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Authors: Claire McEwen

Tags: #romance, #Contemporary, #Western, #Fiction

Convincing the Rancher (9 page)

BOOK: Convincing the Rancher
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“Maybe you don’t need to hear it, but I need to give it. I messed up and I know better.”

“You really are a Boy Scout, aren’t you?” She set the flowers down on an end table next to a white armchair.

“Eagle,” he said automatically before realizing how stupid that sounded.

“Right. Well, Scout, apologies are for personal relationships, and we’re not personal. We’re business. So you do what you need to do, and I’ll do what I need to do, and we’ll just try our best to keep it civil. How’s that?”

Scout. Her nickname had him feeling like a little kid. It didn’t help that she sounded as if she was explaining the ways of the world to a child. He’d come here with flowers, stood on her doorstep struck speechless by her beauty, and that was how she saw him. Some Boy Scout country boy who needed her to school him in being professional. Irritation ran up his spine and he stiffened. “That’s fine. And since we’re being civil, I think I owe you a heads-up.”

“About?”

“The city council just voted to pursue a plan to make Benson the first one-hundred-percent solar town in the country.” He waited for her reaction, but if she was worried, he couldn’t tell—she was that good. She just stood a little straighter, tipped her chin up a little more proudly.

“Well, I appreciate you telling me. I’ll need to let my client know, as well... You understand?”

Hell, he hadn’t thought of that and neither had Jack. Renewable Reliance might be able to pull strings and put obstacles in their way that Tess on her own could not. “Of course,” he said, trying to play it as cool as she did.

“Is there anything else?”

“Um. A thank-you? For the flowers?”

“I didn’t realize I had to say thank you for an apology.”

Damn. If there had ever been anything between them after their night in Phoenix, she was making sure it was buried under about a mile of ice...and he was slipping and sliding like a fool without skates. He tried one last time. “Look, if you want to go back to San Francisco and get someone else to take your place in Benson, I’ll be okay with it. I should never have tried to make you stay.”

“I can see why you’d rather I was gone now, but I don’t back away from a fight, Slaid.”

“I don’t want you gone.” There, he’d said it, and the shock on her face might well be worth the embarrassment of putting his feelings right out there. “That’s not my intention. Tess, I’m
apologizing
—for forcing you to stay in the first place and for my behavior since. I’m trying to correct my wrongs.”

She stared at him warily. “That’s nice of you. But like I said before, I don’t need apologies. We’re on opposite sides of this issue—that’s just the way it is. We have to agree to do our work and not take anything personally.”

He’d have to remember those last few words next time he was distracted by her beauty or memories of what they’d shared. None of this was personal. Even the sex hadn’t been personal for her. “I’ll just say good-night, then.”

“Good night,” she said calmly, and went to the door, opening it for him, signaling that their conversation was over.

Slaid clapped his hat on his head and walked out, the shreds of his dignity trailing behind him. He thought back to Jack’s warning earlier today. His friend had cautioned that Tess was hard to get to know, but he hadn’t mentioned that she was a cat, with sharp claws hidden beneath her sleek form. Claws that could softly and easily slice a man’s confidence into bits.

* * *

T
ESS CLOSED THE
door behind Slaid and leaned against it, letting out the breath she’d been holding. She prided herself on anticipating all obstacles, but she couldn’t have predicted this one. An entire town going solar? It was brilliant. She had no idea if they’d be able to pull it off, but it was a truly inspired move.

Unfortunately, she was on the receiving end of their inspiration. She would call Ed tomorrow and tell him about this new development, and then wait to hear what Renewable Reliance wanted to do about it. And in the meantime, she would have to come up with something good, something fabulous, to convince the people of Benson that solar wasn’t the way to go.

I don’t want you gone.
His words were pulsing neon in her brain, emanating fear and desire that sent a shiver up her spine. He made her crazy, angry and frustrated. He was her enemy in what was going to be a very tough fight. But in those few moments since she’d arrived when they hadn’t been arguing, when they’d shared a spark of humor or a smile, she hadn’t wanted to be gone, either. And those moments troubled her.

She wandered over to the flowers Slaid had brought—white roses, some pink carnations and a whole bunch of baby’s breath. A standard supermarket offering. She trailed her fingers over the soft rose petals anyway. No guy had ever brought her flowers before. Probably because she rarely told them her name or where she lived. And because women like her, who were so clearly out for just a one-night stand, didn’t inspire the traditional thank-you bouquet after a night of sex, no matter how good.

It was kind of sweet that he’d brought them. Totally inappropriate, of course, but sweet. And yet she’d been hard on him—she’d had to be. Seeing him at her door, totally gorgeous and all hopeful, flowers in one hand, his leather cowboy hat in the other, had just about taken her legs out from under her. And there was no way she could let that happen. She needed them strong and steady and completely reliable if she hoped to win this fight.

She picked up the flower-filled mason jar and carried it back to the kitchen, setting it on the table. Opening a cabinet, she pulled out a glass and the bottle of single malt she’d brought with her. She poured herself a small amount and stood sipping the fiery liquid, its heat the only thing she could think of that would calm her nerves.

Staring out the window into the thick darkness beyond, she let the alcohol do its work. She’d figure out a way to deal with Slaid’s solar plans. They were just one more challenge in a challenging job. It was the personal stuff she was really worried about—the mixed-up way he’d made her feel tonight.

Something on the table caught her eye, a local newsletter that had shown up in the mail today, presumably meant for the owner of this cottage. Pumpkins and fall leaves decorated the front and framed the words
Fall Harvest Festival
. It was on Saturday, only four days from now.

Inspiration hit her and brought hope with it. It would to take a lot of work—a crazy amount of work—but if she could book a spot at that festival she knew she’d have a chance to meet most of the people who lived in and around Benson. And with the right literature, the perfect festive booth and the chance to talk with people face-to-face, she’d have a good shot at convincing at least some of them to support the wind farm. And if she undermined Slaid’s solar strategy in the process, well, all was fair in love and war. And though he’d shown up with flowers tonight, he’d clearly declared war.

* * *


S
AMANTHA?”
T
ESS KNOCKED
on the wooden frame of the screen door. “Are you there?”

“Come on back!” Her friend’s voice echoed through the rooms of the old farmhouse.

Tess pushed open the door and followed the sound across the old worn floorboards of the living room. It was filled with slightly shabby furniture that had belonged to Samantha’s grandmother—a big contrast to the stylish, modern home her friend now shared with Jack. Off a hall behind the living room was the office.

“Hey!” Samantha greeted her, getting up slowly from her chair to offer up a hug. “So glad you wanted to stop by.”

“Thanks for making time for me,” Tess said, returning Samantha’s embrace and giving her a brief kiss on the cheek. She took in the built-in shelves, the huge antique desk and the framed bulletin boards. “I forgot you have such a nice office. So this is where the local PR magic happens.”

“I’m not sure it’s magic,” Samantha said. “But it’s nice to have this place to work in. It keeps me from getting distracted by all the stuff I need to do at home. I mean—” she waved vaguely up the hill “—home is right next door, but it’s nice to have my own quiet space.”

Tess took a slow breath, trying to calm her stomach. She hated asking for help, but she was desperate. “I have a favor to ask you. Kind of a big one.”

“Sure. Sit down.” Samantha lowered herself gingerly back into her desk chair. “Oof! Once I’m sitting or standing I’m fine, but getting from one position to the other is a challenge.”

“Well, you look great,” Tess assured her. “You’ve got that pregnancy glow.” She took a seat on the chair next to Samantha’s desk. “Okay, here’s my request. Can you get me a couple of booths at the harvest festival?”

“A couple?” Samantha pushed her cat’s-eye glasses further up her nose and peered at Tess. “It’s this weekend!”

“Yes, but Ellen who works at the market told me that you’re the head of the planning committee.”

“You talked to Ellen at the market?”

“Yes. I’m getting to be a regular fixture around town. Why do you look so surprised?”

“I don’t know. Because you’re Tess! You love San Francisco, you hate it here and yet you’re chatting up Ellen at the market. It’s just strange.”

“Well, believe me, it feels strange to me, too. So can you help?”

“Why do you want booths?” Samantha asked.

“Because the city council wants to put solar panels everywhere to prove they don’t need wind power. It’s a crazy idea, it will never work, but I need to step up my game regardless. So I’ve decided to have my very own mini wind-power expo at the festival.”

Samantha was quiet for a moment, looking anywhere but at Tess. Finally she sighed. “Tess, that crazy idea... It was Jack’s. And mine.”

“Oh. Really?” Tess stared at Samantha—the urban PR expert she thought she knew so well. When had her friend morphed into an environmentalist? Slowly hurt trickled in. She hadn’t thought Samantha would work directly against her.

“I’m sorry,” Samantha said quietly. “I know it’s awkward between us right now. It was just an idea we came up with, and Jack ran it by Slaid, who took it to the city council. They liked it.”

Tess sighed. “Well, thanks for telling me. I guess I’ll get going.” There was no reason to stay—no way Samantha would help her now. She was just embarrassed that she’d even asked.

“Tess.” Samantha’s plea was quiet. “I don’t want this to change us.”

“I think it already has,” Tess said. “Look, right now we’re on opposite sides, but let’s just agree that when this is all over, no matter who wins, we’ll still be friends.” She stood up.

“Wait.” Samantha held up a hand to stop her. “I can get you the booths.”

“Really?” Tess sat down again. “Are you sure?”

“You’re my friend. You deserve the chance to do your job, to present your side of this debate. You can have the three booths on the east end of the fair.” Samantha picked up a file folder and pulled out a photocopy of a crude hand-drawn map. She pointed to a pair of crossed wavy lines. “This is the corner of Third and Main. See? You’ll be here.”

“And can I put up a stage?”

“Excuse me?”

“A stage,” Tess repeated. “And a dance floor. I’d like to bring a band. I know there’s one scheduled for later in the day, but I’ll have mine play earlier.”

“Where are you going to get a band?”

Tess couldn’t tell her that Renewable Reliance was giving her an unlimited budget for this event. Ed had called her this morning with the news. “Connections, of course! I’ve booked the finest Texas blues band in California.”

Samantha’s eyes got wide. “You got Danny Click? To come here?” She and Tess and their friend Jenna had gone to hear him many times in San Francisco, joining his fanatical followers in dancing until the early hours of the morning.

“With his band. The Hell Yeahs.”

“How did you do that?”

“Danny and I actually go way back.”

“Did you sleep with him?” Samantha asked.

“No! Of course not! He has a girlfriend and she’s become a good friend of mine...now that one of my best friends left me to live in a small backwater town.”

Samantha smiled. “I didn’t leave
you
...”

“I know, I know.” Tess grinned, glad that some of the tension between them had faded for now. “The truth is I just promised Danny a lot of good barbecue and a chance to support clean energy. I’m calling it Brunch with the Blues.”

“You’re serving food?” Samantha asked. “Tess, how are you going to organize all this in the next few days?”

“No problem,” Tess assured her, mentally saying goodbye to any sleep she might have gotten this week.

“Well—” Samantha reached into the folder again “—here’s the form for the food permit. Just read it carefully and sign the bottom. I don’t know what to say about the band. I can run it by the committee, but I doubt...”

“Pretend I didn’t even mention the band. Once people hear him play they won’t send him away. I’ll take all the blame for not having a permit. I’ll even pay the fine if there is one.”

“But—”

“Please, Sam? I know you don’t agree with the project, but I have to try my best to make it happen. Please don’t say anything about the band?” She couldn’t believe she was begging. Ed had better have a huge bonus for her when this was over.

“I feel bad doing it, but okay.”

Tess tried to suppress her sigh of relief. She had a shot at winning now. Great music and good food could make anything sexy, even wind power.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more supportive.”

Tess was already reviewing the food form. She scrawled her name on the bottom once she’d finished. “Don’t worry. We’re both professionals. We can handle this.” She gave the form back to Samantha. “I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“To Slaid?” her friend asked, smiling.

“He came over last night and apologized for everything. He even brought flowers.”

“Oh, that is so nice!” The worried look that had sobered Samantha’s features was replaced by a grin. “He likes you.”

“He likes to win. He said he won’t pressure me to stay anymore. I think it was his way of trying to run me out of town.”

“Well, I can’t blame him. Especially after he finds out what you have planned for the Fall Harvest Festival.”

BOOK: Convincing the Rancher
7.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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