Chapter Nine Savannah
Chapter Nine
Savannah
How could I forget the damn raspberry jam?
I cover my face with my hands and groan, knowing full well why I forgot the jam at Brixton’s yesterday.
It was because my mind was on Blaze lurking in his truck. He probably thinks he was so slick, parking down the street, hiding behind some bushes. But he doesn’t realize I’ve got Blazar and could find him like a needle in a haystack.
Something I really hate admitting.
I made sure not to acknowledge him at all. Because why would I ever give him the satisfaction of letting him know that? He’s arrogant enough as it is. The last thing he needs to know is that I am completely and painfully aware of his presence.
A shiver runs through me, a smile lifting my lips. At least the nosy bastard definitely overheard the conversation between me and the handsome town vet. His window was down, and I know he saw us. I’ll bet it got his dick in a twist.
I swing my legs around the side of the bed and stretch my arms overhead. Coffee would be so amazing right now. It’d go really great with the chocolate cake I still have yet to bake.
Maybe after I do some work around here, I’ll take a ride back into town and—
A loud crash makes my heart leap into my throat. Metal on concrete.
“What the hell was that?” I leap off the bed, grab a pair of jeans and a shirt, and dress quickly before barreling down the stairs. I slide my feet into my boots, rush out the front door, and head for the barn.
Another crash has me hitting the rafters, every foreign sound a new potential crisis.
A chill prickles my skin as I slow down and creep closer to the feed room. I suck down a breath and pull the handle. The door slowly creaks open, and I take a cautious step into the darkened room.
Okay, relax, Savvie. Just freaking calm do—
A squeal pierces the air, and I scream, whirling around before crashing into a tall can. It tips over, sending feed skittering across the floor, and I fall right into the middle of it.
“Shit,” I cry out, scampering to my feet, my eyes darting left and right. Another feed can is on its side. My heart beats out of my chest, and I press a hand against my forehead.
Relief washes over me just as a dark creature jumps up from behind the other feed can and scurries over my feet. I stumble backward as a raccoon darts out the door.
“Jesus, you’d think I never set foot on a ranch before,” I mutter, struggling to stand up. I shovel as much feed as I can back into the cans and pull them up off the floor. “Freaking raccoon.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and frown at the list of ranch tasks I have to get done today before Mikey shows up with Randy, one of the other hands who’s been helping out. I can do this. I can handle this ranch work on my own. At least with YouTube’s help.
I never really got involved with ranch work growing up.
Dad hired ranch hands to handle the operations.
And now I need to figure out how to keep paying the ones we have.
I’ve gone through the financials, and they’re dismal at best. But this is what I do.
I make companies profitable. I can do the same with Red Rock. I just need money and time.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of either.
My fingers graze the spout of the water pump, my mind tripping back to Blaze saving me from the rogue spray the other day.
I never imagined that I’d ever see him again. But here we both are, back in Whiskey Creek. And not only is he a total insufferable asshole, but he’s an insufferable asshole who still has a piece of my heart.
And dammit, I want it back.
I busy myself, making sure the water troughs are filled and the animals are fed.
It’s grueling work, and by the time I’m finished, I’m ready to crawl back into bed. Holding my shirt away from me, I wrinkle my nose. The new scent I’m sporting—eau de ranch hand—clings to my clothes, my hair, and my skin.
I head back toward the house, my leg muscles tense and aching. Pilates has nothing on ranching, that’s for sure.
My phone rings, and my boss’s name flashes across the screen.
“Hey, Tom,” I say. “How’s everything going?”
“You tell me,” he says, his voice laced with concern. “I just wanted to check in on you since it’s been a couple of days since you left.”
I sink onto the front steps. “My aunt passed away, heart attack. That was the emergency.”
“Savannah, I’m so sorry to hear that. And I don’t want you to worry about anything here at the office. Take as much time as you need.”
“Well,” I start. “Funny you use those words because it looks like I will need some time.” I tap the toe of my boot against a rock. “My aunt owned a ranch here in Whiskey Creek, and she willed it to me.”
“Oh,” Tom says. “Wow. That must be a lot to handle. But I’m sure there are management companies you can hire to look after things—”
“Yeah, there are.” I bite down on my lower lip. “But the stipulation in the will is that I have to make this place profitable in six months, or the ranch will be sold at auction. I was going to call you today to let you know.”
“So . . . are you planning to come back? Or is this you resigning?”
“Oh, heck no,” I say. “I love my job. But I need to know if you’ll work with me while I get all of this straightened out.
I need six months here to get the ranch in the black, and I was hoping I could work from here.
Just until I can get things up and running.
I can use my vacation time in the meantime, but after that, I just don’t know how I’ll be able to balance work with the ranch operations. And I . . . I really need the income.”
Tom pauses for a minute. “There are circumstances where employees can be eligible for a paid sabbatical after being with the company for at least two years, which you have,” he finally says.
“I’ll have to run this past Caroline and human resources to see if this is a workable option and how much time we might be able to give you. ”
“That would be incredible,” I say. “And I really appreciate you looking into it for me. I just can’t leave. Not right now.”
“I understand. Take care of yourself and your ranch, okay? I’ll be in touch when I know more.”
“Thank you, Tom,” I say. “Speak to you soon.”
I stick my phone back in my pocket after ending the call and wipe my forehead with the back of my shirtsleeve. A silver Dodge Ram pulls onto the property. I squint, using my hand to shield my eyes from the bright sun.
The truck stops, and the door opens. Tyler Burgess jumps out. He pushes his glasses up his nose and flashes a sheepish grin. “Hope you don’t mind. Mrs. Brixton gave me the address. Said you forgot this yesterday.” He holds up a jar of raspberry jam. “And I volunteered to bring it to you.”
A smile stretches across my face. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe I forgot it yesterday.”
“I figured if I didn’t wait for you to call, then I wouldn’t be wishing a problem on you. So this is me being proactive.”
“You have just made my entire day. I’ve been itching to bake a chocolate-raspberry cake, and now I have the missing ingredient.”
“Well, since I’m here, why don’t I take a look at the livestock? Just to make sure they’re doing okay?”
“That would be great. And while you do that, I’ll get to baking.” I wink at him. “Hope you’re not allergic to chocolate.”
“Nope, I’m a chocoholic,” he says, grabbing his medical bag from the cab.
“Perfect.” I wave to the house behind me. “Come on in when you’re finished. I’ll make some coffee.”
It isn’t long before the sweet smells of chocolate and coffee beans float into the air. I catch a glimpse of Tyler out by the pasture. He pets one of our nurse cattle, Mom’s favorite, Miss Bea. She’s got a patch of white behind her left ear, so I can always pick her out of the herd.
The front door opens, and I peek into the foyer from the kitchen. “There’s a washroom on your right. You can clean up in there.”
A couple of minutes later, we’re sitting across from each other at the table.
“So I heard about your aunt,” Tyler says. “I’m really sorry. Were you close?”
I nod. “Yes. But I wasn’t here when she died. I was in Denver. I live there.”
“And now you’re back?” He picks up the mug of coffee and takes a sip.
“For now. According to my aunt’s will, I need to make this ranch profitable in six months, or I’ll lose it. And I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He smiles. “You seem pretty capable to me. So what happens in six months? Are you staying if you get the rights to the ranch?”
“To be honest, I haven’t really thought much about it. My goal right now is to make sure it doesn’t get sold to any freaking land barons who are hovering around like vultures.” I shake my head. “I really just want to do right by my aunt and keep our family legacy alive.”
“I get that. Pretty noble of you.” His lips tilt upward. “I’ll be cheering you on, especially if it means you’d have to stay.”
A nervous giggle slips from my lips. “Thanks. On both counts.”
“What did you leave behind in Denver to take this on?”
“I work for a business-strategy-consulting firm. I was actually in line for a promotion right before I got the call about my aunt. But since I need to be here working the ranch, I have to figure out a way to keep my job and still get paid in the meantime. Based on the way things have gone over the past few days, I know I can’t handle both. ”
“Yeah, running a ranch is a full-time job.”
I nod. “It’s more than I anticipated, even with a couple of ranch hands who work here part time.
I can barely keep my eyes open when I finally get a chance to sit down at night.
Thankfully, my boss said he’d speak to senior management about a solution.
” I shrug. “I guess I’ll have to see how it goes. ”
Tyler leans closer, the flecks of gold in his dark eyes glimmering. “Well, I’m glad to have at least six months. Maybe that’d be enough to convince you to stay longer,” he says, a slow grin lifting his lips.
A hot flush creeps up the sides of my neck. “Doctor, are you trying to make me blush?”