Chapter 7
MADDIE
Guests and staff fill the lobby of Hartlands Ranch, and an inaudible murmur of chatter fills the air. The business is thriving, and this weekend, we’re hosting our fiftieth wedding in four years. Which means everything has to go off without a hitch.
Add into the mix that the couple getting married are A-list movie stars who have signed an exclusive deal with a world-famous magazine, and this is a huge deal for us.
I’ve barely had two seconds to think, let alone eat or drink today, with everything that needs to be done in the run-up to such a big event.
At least that’s what I tell myself. It has nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t been able to sleep properly since the rodeo. My dreams have been filled with Wyatt. Not arguments. Not the usual tension. Something else entirely. Something I don’t have the time or energy to even begin unpacking.
I’m the one who keeps everyone in line and makes sure everything is as it should be around here. Especially since Daddy has stepped back. I don’t have time to lose sleep over a man who doesn’t deserve me.
I narrow my eyes when I spot Deacon, a croissant half hanging out of his mouth and leaving behind a trail of crumbs, as he heads for the front door. My brothers are… Let’s just say I love them to death, but they have no professionalism when it comes to behaving in front of our guests.
Without a second thought or look in her direction, I hand the folder I’m holding to Mona, my assistant and literal godsend. It’s not the first time I’ve done this, and I don’t think it will be the last, given the way my brothers behave.
Mona has worked for us for three years, and before she was my assistant, she was Daddy’s.
It’s safe to say she knows this place better than others.
Since Daddy stepped back, she’s become my right-hand woman, and I know that should I ever want a break, she’s more than capable of stepping up and keeping this place running without a hitch.
The door closes behind Deacon, and through the glass, I watch him amble down the front porch steps without a care in the world.
He throws a hammer onto his shoulder, the metal glinting in the sun.
Who knows what he’s been up to, but I’ll be damned if I’m cleaning up his mess.
Again. Deacon has a habit of “repairing” things around the ranch that don’t always need repairing.
Eyeing up the crumbs, I follow him, holding the door for a guest I was close to knocking over in my rush. With a practiced smile on my face, I wait for them to cross the threshold before continuing after Deacon.
Summer heat wraps around me as I jog toward him, the gravel crunching under my boots. When he’s within earshot, and so I don’t make a scene, I whisper-shout, “What are you doing, Deke?”
He whips around, one brow already raised as he chews on a mouthful of pastry. “Working. What does it look like?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be a smart-ass; it doesn’t suit you.”
He holds up his hands, amusement flitting across his face. If there’s one thing my brothers love, it’s pressing my buttons. I know he can’t be that dense. “It’s a beautiful day. What’s got your panties all bunched up, Mads?”
I fold my arms across my chest before bringing one hand up and tapping my chin as I angle my head.
“Oh, I don’t know.” A guest walks into my peripheral vision, and I take a step closer to Deacon, keeping my voice low, when I ask, “How about the biggest event we’ve ever held happening in two days’ time and my brother leaving a trail of crumbs through the lobby like he’s one half of Hansel and Gretel? ”
I’m tired. Exhausted, in fact. And not just because of my sleepless nights at the hands of Wyatt Wilde.
I love my job, but would it hurt for my brothers to quit acting like they’re damn employees, just showing up for a paycheck?
Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one putting in the work to make this business succeed.
I’ve been working upwards of eighty hours a week all summer; it’s not sustainable.
“I’ll come in and clean it up after I’ve checked in with Lyle about the horses. One of the mares is sick, and I wanna see how she’s doing before Lyle heads out for the day.”
I exhale my annoyance, because around here there’s always going to be something that needs doing and I can’t fault Deacon for wanting to make sure the horses are okay.
“Don’t worry about it, Deacon. By the time you’ve done that, the mess will have already made its way through the building.
We’ll get it cleaned up, but can you please, for the love of God, be more careful next time?
” I run a hand through my hair to keep it out of my eyes, making a mental note to grab a scrunchie from my bag when I get back inside.
“Sure, and I’m sorry. It didn’t cross my mind; I just needed to eat and get back to work.”
I roll my lips together and give him one last look before I walk away. I’ve got too much going on to be worrying about Deacon and the mess he’s causing. He doesn’t need me to parent him; he’s a grown-ass adult. Even if he doesn’t always act like it.
My strides are purposeful as I walk back into the main house through the back door. When I enter the kitchen, I mentally run through my jobs for the day. The work around here never stops, and with this big event coming up, I need to be on my A-game.
On Monday, I’m pitching Jim Evergreen. And if Wyatt Wilde is anywhere near that meeting—because let’s face it, he will be putting in a bid even if it’s just so we don’t get the land—I already know exactly how it’s going to go.
Which means I not only have to make sure nothing goes wrong this weekend for the wedding, but I also have to make sure my proposal will knock Jim’s socks off.
Landing this deal could expand the business even further, but more importantly, it will honor my mom’s memory. Nothing too big, then.
It’s bustling and loud in the kitchen, a welcome distraction from the pressure I’ve been carrying all week. I weave my way through the chefs, searching for the head chef, Oscar. He’s on my list of people to check in with.
Jesus, it’s hot in here.
Too hot.
“Oscar,” I call when I spot him speaking to the sous-chef next to the ovens.
He lifts his head, tells the chef something, and heads in my direction. “Miss. Maddie,” he croons. “What do I owe the pleasure?”
I offer him a polite smile before asking, “Has the repairman been?” Based on how hot it is, I already know the answer.
“No, I spoke with Sawyer; he said he’s on it.”
“When was that?” My clothes are starting to stick to my skin, so God knows how the chefs are coping in their whites.
Oscar pulls out his phone, scrolling through his texts before replying, “Friday.”
“A week ago?” I ask, trying to mask my surprise.
Oscar nods, and it’s only then that I notice the sweat beading on his brow. “Si.”
“Thank you,” I reply before turning and heading out of the kitchen.
The air-conditioned hallway cools my heated skin, and I pull out my phone to text Sawyer. A week is far too long for them to be working in that heat. I’m surprised we haven’t had any complaints from the team.
MADDIE
Are you going to get the A/C fixed in the kitchen soon? Oscar said it’s been broken for over a week?
He replies almost instantly.
SAWYER
Yeah, he said the guys can manage for now. It’s on my list, but I’m not sure I’m gonna be at the ranch today.
I rub my forehead, the subtle ache of a headache making itself known. God, I need a better sleep tonight. This is exactly why I don’t have time for distractions. There are too many plates to keep spinning around here and whatever the hell is going on with Wyatt isn’t something I have space for.
My fingers fly across the screen as I type out my reply.
MADDIE
You should know better than to listen to Oscar. He won’t want to cause you any trouble but it’s bad in there, Saw.
Do I need to get someone to look at it?
I don’t want to shut the kitchen down, but it’s getting to where that’s a possibility.
SAWYER
Chill, Mads. I’m on it. I’ll bump it up on my list.
I can’t remember the last time I “chilled,” but it would be nice if the people working with ovens could, especially given the summer heat.
As I enter the lobby, I type out an email to Luke, a local handyman who’s done some work on the electrics for us in the past. If Sawyer can’t get it done, then I’ll find someone who can.
Mona comes to stand beside me, flipping her curtain of black hair over her shoulder as she hands me back my clipboard. “The crumbs have been cleaned up.”
The corner of my mouth kicks up as I look at her. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Probably go insane.