The Starlight Motel

Chapter Fourteen

“Let me take you to lunch.” Dane stopped in the reception area. A fire burned in the fireplace. If he hadn’t heard through the grapevine what had happened in the motel’s kitchen, he would have attributed the smell of greasy smoke to bad wood.

Kada dropped her arm. “I thought we planned dinner.”

“Give me both.” He ran a hand through his wet hair and wished he brought his hat in from the jeep. After jumping in the ditch surrounding the pump, he and Walter had emerged as muddy as two schoolboys working out their grievances. The pump hummed to life, and he grinned like he never had more fun. But the day was young, and the sun’s height reminded him his interests had recently extended beyond Palmer Farms.

Cupping her elbows, Kada looked at an analog clock. “I have to pick up groceries for a New Year’s Eve cookout, take Lucky to the veterinarian, and run a few quick errands.”

“What kind of errands? Last-minute birthday presents?”

“Good point. What’s your size?” she asked.

He worked his jaw. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine with stale, tiny, pink marshmallows.” He pulled a decorated ginger cookie from his back pocket. “I forgot. Mariah sends her love.”

Snapping off the hook, she took a bite and chewed. “Much better than a donut. Thank her for me.”

He nodded. The cookie rode down the hill with him in an old general-purpose vehicle his dad had rescued from a World War II museum. With an eighty-inch wheelbase, quarter-ton capacity, and four-wheel drive, the old battle wagon served Palmer Farms as well as it served the army. If he had his way, instead of sending Kada’s thanks to his mom, he’d toss Kada into the front seat and deliver her to the farmhouse for a midday reprieve.

“So, lunch is out of the question. How about that coffee?” she asked.

Whiling away an hour over dark roast held some appeal, but he couldn’t squander his reprieve from the farm. “I have bad news.”

Her face fell.

He bit back a smile. Teasing her shouldn’t amuse him, but her motel management proved her mettle. As soon as she saw fit, she could return to painting the world with vivid murals. Judging by her progress on the casita designs, he had six months before she signed the bottom left corner of her mural and packed her bags for greener pastures.

“You can’t break up with me,” she said. “We’re not even dating.”

Tipping his finger, he gave her the point. “Noted. However, it’s New Year’s Eve.”

She tilted her head. “Do you have plans?”

He snorted and leaned against the reception desk. “No, but you won’t find a walk-in vet on New Year’s Eve. Most of the veterinarians have a life, too. I doubt Lucky wants to bump along to the neighboring Imperial Valley.”

She pulled out her phone.

Holding up a finger, he tapped his chin. “I have a solution.”

Narrowing her gaze, she set aside the device. “Do tell.”

“Dr. Vo is coming to the farm to check on Smoky. If I ask nicely, she might swing down and see Lucky, too.” He worked his jaw and left out a few details, like he went to high school with Vo H?nh.

After graduation, H?nh went to the University of California, Irvine for a Bachelor of Science degree in Biological Sciences. He figured she would become a veterinary technician or something similar. She was always adopting strays and fundraising for the local clinic.

She might have stuck with those efforts, but after years of accommodating H?nh’s “pets,” her parents suggested a degree from the Western University of Health Sciences. H?nh returned to the valley as Dr. Vo, but he figured she had dyed her hair pink to prove she wouldn’t always take her parents’ advice. He eyed the tinsel tree and its glittering ornaments. At the Starlight Motel, Vo H?nh and her hair would fit right in.

Kada tilted her head. “Just how nicely do you need to ask?”

He could work with a little jealousy, but the looming holiday and Lucky’s girth left a tight deadline. Swinging one foot along the polished floor, he suppressed a smile. “I don’t think she would mind the extra visit.” He grinned and looked up. “Honestly, she would probably flay me for recommending anyone else. She has a soft spot for strays.”

“Lucky’s not a stray.” She lifted her chin, poured a cup of coffee, and offered it. “She has a home.”

He sipped the coffee. “I’ll call the vet on one condition.”

“Dane, it’s a family motel.”

Spewing coffee from his mouth, he cleared his throat and wiped the back of a hand across his wet lips. “That’s not what I meant!” A man enjoyed hooking up with a beautiful woman, and his intentions were suspect for the rest of his life. “Kada, I merely want lunch.”

Nudging her shoulder against him, she laughed, dropped a handful of napkins over the splattered coffee on the floor, and wiped up the mess with a foot. “I know, but I have a busy day planned. My mom wants to go through Pops’ records. Once she gets going, she might unpack every closet on-site. I have no idea what’s in those closets.”

“Skeletons?”

“Wrong holiday,” she said. “I’m more worried about unleashing her grief.”

He scooped down an arm and gathered the soiled napkins. The wet paper sagged in his hand. “You can’t live off a ginger cookie. Dr. Vo’s a great vet. While she’s looking at Lucky, come for lunch. I know a little hike you might like. We’ll pick up sandwiches and bring them along for a picnic.”

Straightening, she tilted her head. “I don’t want a vet report by phone. I want to be here with Lucky. Last night while I painted, she stayed with me. She knows we’re responsible for each other. Frankly, she slept in my bed all night.”

“Lucky dog.”

She raised her eyebrows.

He grinned, but he would do almost anything to carve out time with her. Her responsibility toward Lucky made sense, but then again, responsibility toward his family obligations got him into this situation. If he hadn’t delivered the date cake on his mother’s behalf, he could have met Kada on familiar ground, wooed her like a beautiful woman, and started their relationship on the right foot. Faced with a challenge, he preferred to double down. “Let’s do it my way.”

She snorted. “You can’t have the bed.”

He massaged his temples. If he’d known she woke up this playful, he would have rolled into the parking lot a minute after sunrise and waited outside her door. Suppressing a smile, he dropped his hand. “I want to show you something.”

“Dane…”

He pointed a finger. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Or?” She straightened her head.

“Or get ready to follow through on your insinuations.”

Her cheeks blushed.

He dropped his finger. “One veterinary house call for one picnic lunch. I get to choose the spot.”

She checked the time. “We can eat cold cut sandwiches by the pool.”

“I choose the spot.” He enunciated each word. “Or you can call every vet in the valley and test your luck.” He crossed his arms. “Your choice.”

Stepping forward, she walked her fingers up his chest. “You’re lucky I overslept, and Stephanie burned the bacon. If the day started like I planned, I’d be elbow deep in dusty boxes, and you’d have a ham-and-cheese sandwich for lunch.”

He captured a hand and pressed it to his lips. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“Will you?” She raised her eyebrows.

Releasing his grip before things got too serious, he reminded himself to take things easy before his responsibilities returned and he left Kada feeling abandoned. “Check on your motel, and give me a few minutes to call Dr. Vo.”

“Do you know her well?”

“She’s gorgeous, talented, and generous.” He held back mentions of their childhood hijinks and the no-fly zone keeping their choose-your-family boundary perfectly intact. If he wanted a friends-to-lovers story, he would have to look somewhere else.

Kada sighed. “I should have stayed in bed.”

Lucky dog. Reaching forward, he wrapped a hand around her waist, pulled her against his chest, and dropped his head. She smelled like almond blossoms, heady coffee, and polished steel. Paint marked her hair, and he wanted to rub the soft strands between his fingers, but he closed his eyes and swallowed. “Thanks for the coffee. I can’t wait for lunch.”

“Is that so?” Wiggling free, she laughed and strolled out the door.

He watched her hips sway and hoped his plan worked out. If not, he might have seen the end of Kada Ritchie’s playfulness.

****

Vo H?nh approached Kada’s casita carrying a black backpack. “Where’s my patient?”

Dane stopped the rocking chair’s motion. After Kada left him, he camped out on her casita’s front porch and shot off emails from his phone.

Lucky claimed a sunny spot behind the railing.

Kada darted around the motel grounds like a zigzagging wasp. Her mother might have chosen the wrong insect.

“You almost stepped on her.”

Frowning, H?nh turned and found Lucky’s hideout. Dropping to one knee, she offered a hand.

Lucky raised her head and sniffed.

“Aren’t you beautiful,” H?nh crooned. “And about ready to pop, aren’t you?”

Dropping her head, Lucky huffed.

“She’s big, huh?” Kada stepped through the gate and wiped clean her hands. “We couldn’t leave her up there on the mountain.”

H?nh made eye contact.

Dane recognized the quick flash of judgment that swept across her face. After hearing about the dog, H?nh had expressed mild frustration with Lucky’s prior owners. He explained the abandoned white car and the flashing headlights. H?nh gave the owners the benefit of the doubt. He elaborated on Kada’s commitment to rescuing the stray. H?nh had agreed to take the case. “Nope,” he said. “We couldn’t leave her.”

H?nh stood and offered a hand. “Vo H?nh, pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise. Kada.”

H?nh donned disposable gloves and ran a hand along Lucky’s side. She pressed against the swells and whispered to herself. “Canine pregnancies last approximately sixty-two to sixty-four days. Predicting the delivery timing can be difficult because the length of pregnancy varies with breed and litter size.”

“What kind of dog is she?” Kada asked.

“A mutt. Some Lab. Some Pitt.” H?nh stilled a hand and looked up. “She’ll make a loyal pet.”

Kada dropped into the second rocking chair beside him and nodded. “She’s already loyal.”

“Based on her increased nipple size, swollen belly, and general lethargy, I think you definitely have a pregnant mama. Other conditions can cause weight gain and a swollen abdomen, but let’s stay with an optimistic outcome.”

“Wait.” Kada leaned forward. “Lucky might be sick?”

“Puppies.” H?nh looked up. “Puppies are the best outcome.”

Kada nodded.

He tried not to smile. H?nh was a holistic veterinarian. When California hippies came to her asking about raw pet diets, she worked with the humans to make sure the animals received the protein and vitamins they needed. Holistic veterinarians combined practices like acupuncture and homeopathy with Western medicine, but H?nh knew when to draw a line and hold her ground on scientific findings.

“We probably don’t have time to start deworming,” H?nh said. “It can significantly decrease the amount of roundworm and hookworm in newborn puppies, but I don’t want to stress the dam.”

Right now, he wouldn’t mind taking a walk. Growing up with a brother and acres of vegetables kept him immune from most pregnancy discussions, but he ran a farm. He could man up and talk canine gestation until the sun went down, but his stomach turned at the thought. Walter took care of most of the farm animals. Clearing his throat, he considered the walk and gripped the chair’s handrails. “What can we do to help?”

“I don’t see any mechanical or anatomical concerns that would prevent Lucky from having a normal whelped litter,” H?nh said. “Put together a whelping box. If you have a kid’s plastic swimming pool, it makes a safe, easily cleaned option. Lucky can walk in and out, but the puppies can’t escape.”

“I can buy a kiddie pool,” Kada said.

Shrugging, H?nh tied up her hair. “Whatever you use, put it in a quiet area with easy access. Let her get used to the space so she avoids your closet.”

Kada shifted the rocking chair and peered through the casita toward her closet.

The chair rail nearly crushed his toes, but his boots saved him.

“Sorry.” She fixed the chair. “My closet?”

“You want her to nest in the whelping box.” Gripping the back of Lucky’s neck, H?nh held down the dog’s head and took the dog’s rectal temperature. “A dam’s temperature usually drops about eight to twenty-four hours before delivery. You have time.” She peeled off the gloves and dropped them onto the porch decking. “In the meantime, if she ignores her food, don’t worry. She’ll return to it after the delivery.”

Kada nodded.

“I counted six puppies.”

“Six?” Kada’s gaze widened.

“Don’t rush her. A litter of six puppies should normally take about six hours total. As long as she’s cleaning the puppies and breathing normally, let her do her thing. If she starts trembling, collapsing, or shivering, please call me.” H?nh extended a business card and a pamphlet. “Otherwise, don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

Kada looked between Lucky and H?nh and repeated the phrase.

He regretted teasing Kada about H?nh. The pair could be friends, and he didn’t want to start a rivalry or give Kada unnecessary concerns.

“Fine doesn’t mean easy,” H?nh said. “You and Lucky might suffer a little nervousness, but the right actions, thinking, and mindfulness will pull you through the birthing process. Try to embrace the present moment and live in the now.”

She widened her gaze. “The now?”

“Do your best to help her stay calm. If you’re too scared about the future or worried about the past, you’ll lose sight of what’s important.”

“Puppies?” she asked.

H?nh offered a soft, comforting smile and a sheaf of papers.

He remembered that smile from their years running around the playground, and he knew her compassion made her an excellent veterinarian. Walter wouldn’t tolerate anyone else.

“After the puppies arrive, I’ll take care of the whole crew and get everyone vaccinated,” H?nh said. “Congratulations. Lucky’s a beautiful dog.”

Kada took the papers, stared at her new pet, and nodded.

He had seen that stunned look on farmhands who plowed through their first day of work, rolled up to a field on day two, and counted the rows. Standing, he offered H?nh a hand. “Thanks for coming down. Send me the bill, and I’ll sort out the charges.”

“Oh, you know I can’t charge you for this little come-and-see.” H?nh tossed her pink hair over her shoulder. “The Buddhist spirit of giving— dana —is about generosity. If I wanted to code every hour of my day and pad my wallet, I would have become a dentist.”

Kada looked up from the papers and wrinkled her brow.

Shaking his head, he met H?nh’s gaze with a smile. Her dad was definitely a dentist.

“I’ll call this visit a favor, and the next time I need a hand, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“Does this mean I’m cleaning gutters?” he asked.

“Maybe.” She winked.

He crossed his arms. “Maybe you should open a new practice in San Bernardino.”

Laughing, H?nh packed up her tools. “My parents would kill me.” With a wave, she stepped onto the path leading back to the parking lot. “Actually, you can carry my bag.”

Unfolding his arms, he wondered what game she played. Nodding, he took the bag, fell into step, and followed H?nh through the palms.

“Your girlfriend looks a little pale,” she said.

He looked over his shoulder and found Kada reading the vet’s pamphlet.

Lucky snoozed in the sunlight.

Her stomach might have rippled, but he chalked up the effect to a trick of the light. “She has her hands full prepping for the end of the year, running the motel, and worrying about Lucky.” Shame warmed his cheeks. He helped out, but if his presence complicated Kada’s days, he should retreat and return when she had more free time. Replaying his experiences at the motel, he wondered if she ever had free time.

“My mother might call her a ‘hungry ghost.’ It’s a Buddhist metaphor that describes a person tormented by unfulfillment. Most people reserve the term for extreme cases like a deceased family member who no longer feels venerated. My mother applies it to every angsty-looking individual she meets. Does Kada have the recognition she deserves? Does the motel fulfill her?”

Stopping, he looked over his shoulder and saw the half-finished mural on the casita . “She’s a muralist by training. This motel gig isn’t her end game.”

H?nh nodded at the edge of the parking lot. “Maybe when she picks up a paintbrush, her color will improve.”

Tugging H?nh’s ponytail, he handed off her bag. “When will your color improve? What’s next orange? Blue?”

H?nh rolled her eyes. “As if. Who looks good with orange hair?”

He thought of Kada’s dark locks catching the sunlight. She would look good in anything.

****

Dane stood in the doorway and considered whether to interrupt Kada as she pored over the veterinarian’s papers. H?nh might be right. Kada looked a little pale, but the shadows this time of day could be funny. He worked his jaw and considered his options.

Kada looked up from the pamphlet. “Where did she go?”

He shrugged. “More patients.”

“I need lunch,” Kada said. “Now.”

“That, I can do.” He lifted the pamphlet from her hands, set it on the rocking chair, and led her down the steps. “Everything will be fine.”

“That’s like what you hear at the beginning of a horror movie. How am I supposed to doula a litter of puppies? Remaking Ocean’s Eleven a third time might be easier.” She walked down the path like a dazed zombie, turned, and pointed toward Lucky. “Don’t you dare have those puppies while I’m gone!”

Lucky snored.

Biting his lip, he pulled his keys from his pocket and led her toward the jeep. “Don’t worry, I know a spot to take your mind off whatever’s bugging you.”

“Let me text my mom and tell her I’m heading out.” Pulling out her phone, she fired off a message. “I’ll ask Mom to check on Lucky every hour.”

Instead of a quick reply, Larissa walked out of the motel, headed straight toward them, and shaded her eyes.

He stepped back to give the women privacy and considered whether rescuing Lucky was the right thing to do. Kada would refuse taking the dog to the animal shelter, but she had a mountain on her shoulders. Larissa might catch on to Kada’s exhaustion and curtail his outing. He could call Walter and ask for help with Lucky. Kada would give him hell, but at least she would have options. He always had options and the freedom they entailed.

“Where are you going?” Larissa planted her hands on her hips.

Kada looked toward him.

“North,” he said. “We’ll be back after lunch.”

Larissa waved a hand and encompassed the rocky gardens. “But who will run the motel?”

“You know this place better than I do.” Kada cupped Larissa’s elbow. “You grew up here, and we still use Pops’ systems. The paper towels are still stacked next to the dishrags. The computer password is still Yucca . I haven’t made any substantive changes. If you want to close your eyes, imagine it’s 1992.”

“What a year.” Larissa shook her head and dropped her raised arm. “I guess I can manage the motel for a few hours. You’ve picked up so much slack this year.”

Kada rubbed Larissa’s upper arm. “Mom, we both own this property.”

“But it’s meant to be yours.” Larissa wiped away a tear. “Pops wanted you to have it.”

“Oh!” Kada wrapped her mother in a hug. “I’m asking too much, aren’t I?”

He shifted. Feeling like an accessory during an intimate moment, he wondered if he should start the jeep or make plans for another day.

“No.” Shaking her head, Larissa pulled free and blinked away her tears. “I’m processing my grief. Some people lose their parents and move on with their lives, but I wasn’t ready. I lost your grandmother too early, and losing Pops hurts as much as losing my mother. Even though he’s gone, I can’t walk around incapacitated, pining, and ruminating.”

Kada pulled back and snorted. “Ruminating?”

Rubbing a hand over her face, Larissa smiled. “My therapist’s words. She said I have to return to previous activities or find new ones. Life goes on. I didn’t expect to find so many memories on-site. You’re lucky you have this place.”

Kaka crossed her hands over her arms. “What if I want more?”

In the bright sunlight, Larissa’s gaze sharpened. “More?”

The two women, standing side by side, looked as similar as siblings, but decades separated their success. He knew the pride and admiration of looking at his old man and seeing his success. Did Larissa recognize herself in the daughter she raised? Did Kada feel the same, and would she take her mother’s path? The jeep held a lot of appeal, but he waded into this situation, and he would hold his ground.

“A partnership.” Kada leaned her head on Larissa’s shoulder. “Even though he was your dad, we both lost someone we loved, and we both love the Starlight Motel.”

“You’re right.” Larissa squeezed Kada’s shoulder.

Kada raised her head. “I am?”

Larissa waved a hand toward the parking lot. “Go! Have fun. If you return to sticky notes and carbon paper card swipes, you’ll know what happened in your absence. Maybe that will teach you to rethink partnerships.”

Kada laughed and hugged her. “You’ll do great.”

He released his breath and opened the jeep door. For a few hours, at least, he could cultivate Kada’s joy and maybe tease her into a dalliance.

Hugging her mother good-bye, Kada turned and stopped short. “What is that?”

“A truck?”

She made eye contact. “Does it have seat belts?”

“Yeah.” He had a sedan back at the farm, but he planned to do a little off-roading, and the jeep had higher clearances. “It runs like a charm.”

Shaking her head, she slipped her phone into a pocket and jerked her head toward the old, blue farm wagon. “No way. We’ll take Pops’ truck.”

If he had to pick his battles, conveyances wouldn’t be one. Pocketing the jeep keys, he grabbed his hat and walked toward the blue truck. “No problem, but I get to drive.”

She narrowed her gaze.

“Pretty please?” he asked. “I know the roads like the back of my hand.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Laughing, he pulled his sunglasses from the V of his shirt. Most people took him for a pampered son racking up family profits. They missed the log books, fertilizer conferences, and numbing insomnia. Give him a few more years, and he would have an eye tic to go with his reading glasses and high blood pressure, but Kada thought he was cute.

He could fall back on his honed tendencies, but her laughter alleviated the pressure in his chest, and her banter held promise. If she could keep up with him, then he would make room in his life for more than crops and the bottom line.

If she needed space, then he would chock up the day to a good deed. He couldn’t fix her life or make her days stress-free, but he could show her something worthy of a smile. Climbing into the cab, he checked the mirrors. “You have no idea how insufferable I am.”

She pulled shut the passenger door. “What?”

“Never mind,” he said. “Let’s roll.”

Shaking her head, she buckled her seat belt. “I think I liked you better when you were on a horse.”

Backing up the truck, he spread an arm over the passenger seat, turned his head, and ignored the rearview mirror. “Is that so?”

She scanned the open desert surrounding the motel.

The land near the highway had room for small businesses, but this far out of town, few businesses thrived beside the Starlight Motel. As the land rose toward the mountains, Palmer Farms claimed the desert’s bounty. “What do you think of the scenery? It’s not L.A.”

“Pretty enough. I find all manner of bugs and lizards creeping through the casitas . I’m thinking about charging them rent. Your mom said the desert takes time to seep into a person’s soul, but the animals aren’t as reserved.”

Laughing, he put the truck into Drive and pressed the accelerator. “Most animals around here are nocturnal animals. If you didn’t stay up so late to paint, you might not see them.”

“I like seeing them,” she said.

He liked the animals, too. If stubborn rats and bighorn sheep could eke out a living in the desert, he could do the same. “Maybe they’re drawn to the motel and its dripping faucets.” He glanced at her. “Have you considered selling?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “How much? Ten million?”

Slapping his chest, he refocused on the road. “You think highly of yourself.”

“As soon as I finish the murals, every hipster in a five-hundred-mile radius will want a selfie by the pool.” Her seat creaked. “Authentic, local interest perseveres, and the Starlight Motel has a lot to offer.”

Glancing at her and seeing her reclined in the sunlight, he believed her, but he wanted to scrap his purchase offer and funnel his inheritance toward a tropical island and a lumbering Internet connection where she could paint to her heart’s content, and he could watch her.

Instead, he kept a straight face and reminded himself he needed wide open spaces as much as he needed fresh air. “You’re probably right. Palm Springs is having a resurgence. Maybe you should stay, handle the hoards, and keep them off my land.”

“You should do agro-tours.”

He wrinkled his nose. I liked it better when we were flirting. If he wanted to talk shop, he would spend the day listening to Walter’s worries, his dad’s advice, or the industry newsletters that flooded his inbox. “Why did you come to the motel in the first place? One thing I knew, Hall had passed, and the next thing I knew, you’d taken up residence.”

She sighed. “My mom feels things so deeply. The minute Pops passed, she looked around the motel, peered in a drawer or two, and said, ‘Gosh, I wish I could do something to help.’ She couldn’t take the onslaught of emotions. I mean, obviously, she could have done a ton, but she needed time to process her father’s death. I thought she would be back in a week or two. Months went by. I was pretty good at picking up the slack.”

Family loyalty kept multigenerational businesses profitable. Each contributor stepped in to fill a need. Until she realized how much she did for her family, she would struggle with her participation. “But why you?”

She made a noncommittal sound.

Slowing for a yellow light, he risked a glimpse of her profile. She looked lost in thought, but she had demonstrated her ability to see the details that escaped most people. When she painted the casitas , she brought the plants to life and made their assets shine. If he saw an unexpected plant, he worried about pests.

“I guess grief hits people in different ways. I saw Pops get weaker. I had time to sit with him and listen to his stories. For Mom, he was here one day and gone the next.”

Regret dampened her conjecture. She had no more stolen those last hours with Hall than Larissa had stolen Kada’s ability to paint. “Maybe she needed more time?”

“Then why didn’t she return?” She drummed her fingers on the door. “What did she think would happen to the motel? The books and the taxes would take care of themselves?”

He gripped the wheel and considered the alternative. “Running a business together defines my relationship with my dad. Sometimes, I’m jealous of my brother’s role. Jud throws the football with Dad, and their banter never degrades into a cost-benefit analysis or satellite weather reports.”

An oncoming vehicle swerved, and he hoped the driver put down his or her phone and focused on the open road. Between driving the old truck and opening up to Kada, he had his hands full. “I guess Jud might resent me, too. Whenever we have a family problem, Mom and Dad come to me first.”

“Is that so?”

“Where does that leave him? As a kid, the roles really confused me. Like, why did birth order make me the heir and him the spare?”

“Have you asked him to take up a role in the business?”

He snorted. “Jud hates farming as much as I hate making cold calls.”

She laughed. “Noted.”

“Huh?” He turned his head.

She smiled. “If you buy the motel, I won’t put you in charge of media requests. I bet you’d make a terrible interviewee. When reporters asked you to expound on farming themes, you would probably recite crop yields and market prices.”

He laughed. “Who interviews farmers? I’d let someone else handle the media requests.”

“Good point.” She adjusted the vent. “You’d come off stoic as shit. Bring Smoky. You’re looser in your element.”

“My element?” He opened his mouth to defend his profession, but her worldview expected glossy produce on demand. He provided it. Shutting his mouth, he adjusted his grip on the wheel. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a good job at the motel. The guests look happy, and the facility shines. Smoky obviously enjoyed his stay.”

Shifting her weight, she put a hand on his thigh. “I forgot to ask. Is he okay?”

The weight of a hand stole the blood from his head and sent it shooting straight south. Her innocent gesture almost caused a one-vehicle accident on a lonely, desert road. Instead of focusing on his desire, he chewed his cheek and thought of the slobbering horse that brought them together. “Smoky’s fine. If you tried, you couldn’t find a stronger quarter horse.”

“I’ve never tried.” She drew back a hand. “On my first trail ride, the horse bucked, and I refused to ride again.”

“Well, I know what we’ll do for date number two. You’d give Smoky a chance, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” she said.

He laughed. “Maybe we’ll start with grooming the horse?”

“Riding a horse is an antiquated hobby.”

He saw her appreciation for Smoky and Lucky. She might be an urban progressive, but she had a soft spot for cuddly critters. If he were lucky, her soft spot extended to hard-ass farmers with a newfound appreciation for painters. Keeping her engaged would help him break through her preconceptions. More sex would help, but so would more ire. “So is painting. Have you tried computers?”

She laughed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Some things don’t translate well into the digital age.”

Thinking of their stolen kiss and the way his heartbeat accelerated in her presence, he agreed. Some things were timeless. “You might be right.”