From the Boots Up Read online

  Around one, she realized she hadn’t eaten lunch yet so she went to the kitchen, hoping for one of Alice’s sandwiches. “Hey, Alice,” she said as she entered through the back door and took her hat off and hung it on one of the pegs near the door.

  “I was wondering when you’d show up.” Alice looked up from the stove. “There are sandwiches in the fridge.”

  “You’re a goddess.”

  Alice laughed as Meg took a sandwich out. She studied it through the plastic wrap.

  “Turkey and Swiss.”

  “Yum. Thanks.” She carried it to the counter by the back door and sat on one of the stools, facing away from the counter so she could see Alice. She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite.

  “That is so good,” she said after she’d swallowed.

  “Maybe you’re just that hungry.”

  “Nope. Your sandwiches are just that good.”

  Alice finished stirring what smelled like beef stew and took one of the to-go cups down from a shelf above the stainless steel restaurant-style counter behind her and filled it with iced tea from the refrigerator. She handed it to Meg.

  “Thanks.” She took a drink and set the cup on the counter behind her.

  “Chatted with that reporter this morning.” Alice checked the other pot on the stove.

  Meg caught the aroma of baked beans and brown sugar. She didn’t respond to her comment.

  “Sharp.”

  “Yeah. So be careful what you say around her.”

  She chuckled. “I like her. Have you had a chance to talk to her?”

  The bite she’d just taken was suddenly a lot harder to swallow. “Not really. Busy.”

  Alice shot her a look.

  “She just got here,” she said defensively. “She’ll be here for a while. I’m sure she’ll corner me at some point and drag Diamond Rock secrets out of me.” But she knew Gina wouldn’t have to do much convincing. One of her smiles would be sufficient.

  “I know you’ll be the best possible diplomat. When you put your mind to it, you can charm the fight out of a bull.”

  She laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Honey, I’ve known you since you were sixteen. You might pretend to be prickly, but underneath, you’re a sweet and sensitive soul. Makes you endearing.” She gave her a wink.

  “Yeah, well, don’t share that with anyone. It’ll ruin my rep.”

  Alice smiled and Meg took the last bite of her sandwich and balled the wrapper up then finished her tea. She put the wrapper into the empty cup and walked both to the trash can in the dishwashing room.

  “Thanks, Alice. That was super good. See you at dinner.” She grabbed her hat from the peg and went out the front so she could cut the distance to the main office. She was halfway there when the main office door opened and out stepped her dad. With Gina. Meg ducked behind one of the SUVs that a couple of guests had driven up and watched them through the windows as they walked toward the stables.

  They hadn’t seen her and she relaxed. Gina made her all kinds of nervous, and she really didn’t want to talk to her when her dad was right there. Because he might be able to tell, and how bad would that screw things up? If he saw that his daughter had a crush on the reporter whose story could change a whole lot of things for the ranch? She just needed a couple of days to get this thing under control, and then she’d be fine.

  “Hey,” Davey said behind her, startling her. He gave her a strange look. “Can you take a ride with Floyd?” He asked. “We’re looking for a few cows and they might be over by the Carlson spread. I’ve got to take a group up the trail with Mark.”

  She almost hugged him, deciding to conveniently forget about Stan wanting her to stick around this day. It was nearly two, anyway. She’d be back in a couple of hours. “Sure.”

  “Thanks. Floyd’ll meet you at the far side of the north pasture.”

  She collected Rusty from the paddock and saddled him at the far end of the stable, though she didn’t see either Gina or her dad. She swung onto Rusty’s back and was on her way before her luck changed, as ridiculous as it was that she was trying to avoid an attractive woman rather than get to know her better. She nudged Rusty into a trot. It wasn’t cool to have a crush on the reporter it had taken weeks to arrange. By the time she got back, she should be able to handle another dinner with her in a mature and detached fashion. With that goal, she let Rusty have a little steam, and the wind on her face and the solid thud of his hooves on the earth cleared her head a little.

  Until she got back.

  She’d no doubt see Gina at dinner, and she’d have to keep it together and hopefully not come across like some damn teenager in lust. She showered and dressed in clean clothes before she went to dinner. She spent the next ten minutes fussing with her hair. She should get a trim, at least, because it fell in unruly dark damp waves to her shoulders and her bangs were starting to encroach on her eyebrows. She messed with it some more and frowned, realizing that she never spent this long on her hair. What the hell was she trying to accomplish? Gina was off-limits.

  A guest.

  The reporter.

  Not an ideal situation for anything besides platonic professionalism.

  She stared at her reflection and laughed, a little ruefully. Like Gina would have any interest in her beyond an interview for her article. She was a journalist, after all, and trained in extracting information and maybe writing stuff that ended up not being flattering after all. She turned away from the mirror. Maybe having a crush on a journalist wasn’t such a good idea, because it could end up biting her in the ass, especially if she told her a story that made it into print in an entirely different context. Yeah, maybe she needed to re-think this from that angle. That should kill any kind of crush.

  She went downstairs and walked around to the front entrance of the dining room. Things got crazy in the kitchen around meal times, so she tried to stay out of the way then unless Alice needed her help with something. The tables were already half-full with people laughing and talking over big bowls of stew and thick slices of Alice’s famous cornbread.

  Meg filled a bowl for herself and carried it and her silverware to a vacant spot at the table closest to the door. The table was mostly empty, though a few guests sat at the opposite end. She smiled at them before she went back and loaded a plate with salad and fresh vegetables then carried it back to her seat, where she settled in and poured herself a glass of water from one of the plastic pitchers that staff put out on all the tables, along with stacks of napkins. Troy came by with a basket of cornbread that he set next to her and Meg took a piece, making sure to fold the cloth back over the remaining pieces to keep them warm and moist.

  “Hi, there,” Marjorie said. “Can I join you? Or are you feeling the need for space?”

  She laughed. “Space? I get plenty of that all day.” She buttered her piece of cornbread.

  “Mental space,” she clarified with a smile.

  “It’s all good. Have a seat.”

  Marjorie sank gratefully onto the bench.

  “Did you go on a ride today?”

  “I did. I do believe I’m going to be a little bit sore.”

  “Hot shower,” she said sympathetically. “And we have a supply of sport rub if you need it.”

  “I may take you up on that.”

  “Do some easy stretches before you go to bed, and take some Advil. We’ve got that, too.”

  “I’ll bet you do.” She took a bit of her stew. “Oh, this is divine. Where did you find Alice?”

  “She found us, actually. Our last cook left when I was around sixteen. We were lucky he left after the guest season ended because that gave my dad time to look around for someone. He was getting kind of worried by January and couldn’t find a good match. Then toward the end of January, Alice comes driving up in her truck. She parked right in front of the office and went right in. My dad was there going over the books and she walks in and says she’s new to the area and she needs a job. My dad asked
her if she could cook.” She grinned. “Turns out, she could. And she kinda liked us, so she stuck around. Lucky us, huh?”

  “And all the guests who are able to experience her meals.” She poured herself a glass of water and took a piece of cornbread out of the basket.

  “Room for another?”

  Meg tried to quell the little kicks in her stomach at Gina’s voice, but it was a lost effort. “Definitely.” She smiled up at her.

  “Hi,” Marjorie said with genuine warmth. “Sit yourself right here.” She patted the bench to her left and Gina sat down. Across from Meg. Right in her line of sight. She was wearing a black tee, tucked into faded jeans. Another round of sparks swirled through Meg’s chest. Her earlier resolve was clearly not working.

  “So what’d everybody do today?” Gina asked. She tossed a little smile at Meg, but Marjorie answered first.

  “A lovely horseback ride, then a stroll up the road. I spent some time chatting with a few of the other guests. It’s been perfectly relaxing. And you?” She asked Gina.

  “I talked to a few people myself. Did some writing.”

  “Do you take notes when you interview people?” Marjorie asked.

  “Depends on the situation. I do generally write a few things down in a live interview because it’ll help trigger me to remember details. When I’m doing a phone interview, I type during the conversation, so I can be as accurate as possible when I quote someone, and make sure that the context is correct, too.” She looked expectantly at Meg. “And your day?”

  “Ranch stuff,” she said with a little smile of her own.

  “Ah. Mysterious. Antelope trafficking, perhaps?” she asked innocently.

  “Definitely. And then I had to go check on the UFO crash, see how the aliens are doing with their repairs.”

  Marjorie giggled and Gina’s smile widened.

  Doomed, Meg thought. I’m doomed. The longest week in the history of weeks was upon her.

  “So when can I schedule you for a sit-down with me?” Gina asked, the hint of an invitation in her eyes.

  Or so Meg wished. “Have your people call mine, we’ll see what we can work out.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  A few other guests took nearby seats and engaged them in another conversation about the history of the area, which Meg knew, so fortunately she was able to maybe impress Gina a little. Marjorie finished and took her dishes to the bus table as Davey joined the group nearby and proceeded to try to charm the daughter of one of the guests, a perky, blond, twenty-ish woman.

  “Should I be offended?” Gina asked in a low voice.

  Meg glanced back at her. “About what?”

  “That Davey doesn’t find me nearly as interesting as Tiffany.” Her smile seemed to heat her eyes.

  She grinned, thinking that Gina probably already knew all of the other guests by now. “So you’ve already figured out a few dynamics around here. Not bad for your first day.” And she was secretly pleased that she’d read her correctly at the bonfire the night before.

  “He makes it pretty easy.”

  “The funny part is, he thinks he’s slick at it.”

  Gina chuckled. “It no doubt works on some women.”

  “You don’t strike me as the type his approach would work on,” she said, and instantly regretted it. Oh, shit.

  She regarded her for a few seconds. “And what type is that?”

  Meg swallowed and wished her dad would suddenly appear and ask her to go check on the horses, immediately. “The, um, type that sees through come-ons like that.”

  “I take it that’s a good type,” and another smile flickered at the corners of her mouth.

  Meg wrenched her gaze back up to Gina’s eyes, but that view was just as disconcerting. “Unless you like that sort of thing,” she managed, wincing internally at how stupid that sounded.

  “Depends on the context.”

  She was about to respond with something that would change the subject before she was up to her neck when Davey interrupted. She hadn’t noticed him get up from his seat.

  “Hey, Meg. Miss Morelli. Gotta borrow Meg for a minute.” He flashed Gina a grin that Meg recognized as the one he used to charm the womenfolk. For her part, Gina simply nodded at him and reached for her iced tea.

  “Excuse me,” she said to Gina. Then to him, “What’s up?”

  “Any chance you could help out on a trail ride tomorrow? Mark’s got to help Jackson pick up a horse for breaking and Floyd’s doing one of the roping demonstrations tomorrow.”

  “Sure.”

  “Cool.” He focused on Gina again.

  “Morning or afternoon?” Meg asked, and he looked at her.

  “Morning.”

  “How many?”

  “Ten.”

  She nodded. “Okay. See you then.”

  “Thanks.” He gave Gina another one of his smiles. “And when will I be able to guide you on a trail ride?”

  Meg shot him a look, but decided to see how Gina played it.

  “Depends.”

  “On what?” he pushed, in one of his flirty tones.

  “On how good your luck is.”

  “I’m a pretty lucky guy. Want to find out?”

  Meg nailed his left calf with a swift kick she delivered using the side of her right booted foot. He exhaled sharply and glared at her, surprised.

  Gina hid a smile behind another drink of tea and Meg looked up at him innocently.

  “I’m sure Miss Morelli will let you know when she’s scheduled for a trail ride. And I’m sure she’ll ask you a whole lot of questions about the work you do here, and I’m sure she’ll totally appreciate your professionalism, with regard to the story she’s doing on the ranch. Right?” She gave him a hard stare.

  He cleared his throat and a little flush appeared on his neck. She’d struck his male ego nerve, knocked him down a bit, and pulled the fraternization card. Too bad. Stan would blow a gasket if he knew how Davey was acting, especially around a reporter. He smiled, but it looked forced.

  “Just let me know when you’re ready,” he said smoothly to Gina. “See you tomorrow, Meg.” He returned to his seat and another female guest who looked like she was probably Tiffany’s mom.

  She turned back to Gina, not sure what to say in the wake of Davey’s overstep.

  “So when can I have my first chat with you?” Gina asked. “My people really want to put you in my schedule.”

  Meg relaxed, relieved that she’d chosen to ignore what happened. At least for now. Shit. What if she put that in her story? “Not tomorrow morning, obviously. After lunch?”

  “That should work. How about I come and find you?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be within earshot of the dining hall, if all else fails.”

  “I’ll expect photos of the antelope trafficking ring.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” She managed a smile, but Davey’s actions had put a knot in her gut. Why the hell did he have to act like such an ass? And to a reporter? Not just any reporter. The reporter. There was a lot riding on Gina’s story, and on what she chose to write.

  Gina put her bowl and silverware onto her plate and stood. She picked up her plate and her glass. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yep.”

  She started to turn away, but stopped and looked back at Meg. “No worries,” she said, and the smile she gave her was warm, maybe a little concerned. “Really.” She watched her a moment longer then walked away, toward the bus tub table.

  Meg watched her, wondering if she was referring to Davey’s sudden turn as an asshole and was letting her know that she didn’t consider it relevant to her story, or if she was just trying to reassure her about talking to a reporter. She had already figured out Davey’s angle, and she probably had to deal with guys hitting on her all the time, including guys she had to interview for other stories. Hopefully, she’d ignore Davey’s bullshit. And hopefully, that’s what she was referring to.

  She organized her own bowl and silverware on h
er plate and stood. Maybe her comment at dinner would help Davey pull his head out of his ass. Hell, she’d tell him again tomorrow to keep his hormones under control. She sighed and went to find Jackson to help set up the bonfire.

  Five

  Meg beat Davey to the stables the next morning and she had already saddled two horses before he showed up. When he did, he ignored her, but she figured he would, so she followed him out to the horse he started to saddle.

  “You need to quit acting like an asshole,” she said before Davey opened his mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting now and again, but not with a reporter doing a story on the ranch. I don’t give a shit how sexy you think she is, or even if she thinks the same of you. It’s your responsibility to represent the ranch, and it’s your responsibility to be the professional here. Are we clear on that?”

  He muttered something and adjusted the saddle.

  “You’re racking up asshole points.”

  “Yes,” he snapped.

  “Good. As far as I’m concerned, the matter’s closed. Unless you decide to be a dick. Your call.”

  He nodded, but he was still pissed, from the set of his jaw.

  Whatever. He was being an ass. “Okay. I’ll take lead if you don’t feel like it.” Davey didn’t like being the lead because he couldn’t socialize as much with everybody up and down the string of horses on the trail. She didn’t mind lead, and gave him the choice as a peace offering.

  He took it. “Sure, if you want.”

  “No problem.” She stared him down and he finally relented and smiled, though wanly.

  She smiled back and went to get another saddle. By the time they’d gotten everybody settled and were headed up one of the trails, he seemed to be in his regular good humor, though he didn’t say much to her either on the ride or when they got back. She’d have to keep an eye on him. Not the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He usually pouted for a day or two after a confrontation and then he’d be fine, like nothing happened. This was probably a two-day pout. She went to wash up before lunch and mentally prepare herself for the next trial of the day, the interview with Gina.

  She finished lunch thirty minutes later and left the dining hall, wondering where Gina might be. Maybe she got caught up with another interview or with writing or something and she could put this conversation off another day or two. She was about to go to the office when she noticed a crowd gathered near the corral, fifty yards past the lodge. Curious, she changed direction.