Starting Over (Nugget Romance 4) (6 page)

In the room, Tracy had set up a PowerPoint presentation, showcasing the inn’s amenities as well as various local attractions. The three of them made small talk for a while—what’s the weather like in July, you get a lot of bears in summer, blah, blah, blah. As Tracy readied to boot up her laptop, Sam came in with the drinks. Where she’d dug up the Red Bull Nate would never know.

“These are some nibbles Emily made.” Sam set a platter of cheese puffs, palmiers, and mini quiches on the table. For Landon’s benefit she said, “Emily Mathews is our chef.”

“Thanks, Samantha,” Tracy said, waiting for her to leave.

Sam took the hint and backed out of the room. For the next hour Tracy did her shtick. Afterward, she took Landon on a tour of the property and a drive through town to show him the hot spots. Nate had excused himself from that part of the program, confident that Tracy could close the deal on her own. Unfortunately, the pile of work on his desk needed attention.

On the way to his office, Nate couldn’t find Sam. She’d probably gone to a late lunch or out, doing wedding errands for Emily. Lost in his work, he didn’t hear Tracy and Landon return until Tracy’s high heels clicked past his office on the hardwood floors. From what he could tell, they’d gone into Maddy’s office—probably to sign a contract.

But ten minutes later, a panicked Tracy popped her head in. “I need help.”

Nate came around his big pine desk and followed her to the lobby, where Landon peered at the Donner Party picture exhibit Maddy had hung on the wall. Sam was back to sitting behind the front desk.

Sam pointed to the pictures. “It happened just down the road. Did Tracy show you the memorial?”

“Dude, there’s a memorial?”

“There’s a whole Donner state park with a museum, a marked trail where the pioneers got stranded, even one of their cabins. It’s eerie.”

“Does it have stuff about them eating each other?” Landon asked.

“It’s all there.” Sam laughed. “Even historical accounts of the cannibalism.”

“Seriously? I might have to hit that on my way home.”

“The guests find it fascinating,” she said and went back to something on her smartphone.

“So what do you think?” Nate asked Landon. “This a good spot for your reunion?”

Landon bent down to tie his high-top tennis shoe. “The inn’s great. I’m just not sure there’s enough to keep everyone occupied for a week. I guess I was hoping for more points of interest.” He looked over at Sam, who was still messing with her phone. “What are you doing?”

Sam let out a frustrated noise. “I just got this app that’s supposed to organize all my events for the inn, but I can’t get it to work right.”

Landon held out his hand for her to give him the phone and became immersed in tapping the display keys. He played with it for a few minutes before handing it back to Sam. “Here you go.”

Nate wanted to strangle her for sidetracking Landon and getting them off topic.

“Landon, I think we could put together a nice itinerary for you.” Nate tried to maneuver the conversation back to business. “One of the days we could bus you all to Reno—”

“Oh my God, how did you do that?” Sam squealed. “You added icons.”

“Dude?” Landon looked at Sam like
Seriously? Don’t you know I’m a tech genius?

Nate still wanted to kill her for running them off course.

“Thank you, Landon.” Sam smiled so sweetly at him that Nate got an instant toothache. “Did Tracy show you the Western Pacific Railroad Museum? I read in your bio that you’re a train enthusiast. You know it has the largest collection of Western Pacific memorabilia in the country?”

“Yeah, that’s why I picked Nugget in the first place,” he said. “I wanted one day for us to take that train-tour deal through gold country. Tracy and I went over to the station and they said they’re booked the whole month of July.”

“But Tracy told them you’re with the Lumber Baron, right?” Sam said, and all eyes fell on Tracy. “They reserve space for our guests.”

Nate wondered if she was making this shit up, because it was news to him.

Sam picked up the phone and dialed. “Hey, Lloyd, it’s Samantha Dunsbury . . . I’m well, how are you? . . . Good, I’m so glad to hear that. And the family? . . . Excellent. I’m calling because we have a guest who is interested in holding a family reunion at the Lumber Baron in July and would like to take the train . . . Hang on a sec.” She turned to Landon. “How many seats?”

“Maybe twenty.”

“Did you hear that, Lloyd? . . . So is that doable?” She nodded at Landon. “Great. We really appreciate you doing that for us . . . Oh, that’s so nice . . . No, he hasn’t quite decided yet, but you’ll hold them for a few days, right? . . . Terrific. Thanks, Lloyd. Talk to you soon.”

Sam hung up the phone and turned to Landon. “We can also get you into the Plumas County rodeo. The events sell out every year, but the Lumber Baron has a box.” This too was news to Nate. “And you cannot miss cowboy poetry at the grange hall—so Americana. One of the days during your visit we can set up a picnic hike, nothing too strenuous for the older folks, but the wildflowers that time of year—amazing.”

Landon nodded his head, seemingly into it.

“And the millpond in Graeagle, did anyone talk to you about that?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s this lovely swimming beach where you can rent paddle boards and pedal boats. Kids love it. The shops there are also adorable. For the more adventurous among you, there’s horseback riding and mountain biking. Honestly, Landon, you could stay for a year and not run out of things to do.”

“What’s that rodeo like?” Landon wanted to know.

“I just went for the first time a few weeks ago,” Sam said. “And I loved it.” Nate highly doubted that.

“Although a lot of the participants are local ranchers and not professional, it’s still very exciting,” she continued, describing to Landon the various events. Nate noticed that Lowery appeared much more interested.

“You can really make that train ride happen?” Landon asked Sam, and Nate knew she’d hooked him.

“Of course. And the horseback riding, bird watching, river rafting. We’ll keep you busy from day to night.”

Landon peered into the main parlor and took in every little detail. “My folks would really love the inn,” he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You’ll personally handle it, right?” This was directed at Sam, and Nate noticed Tracy stiffen.

“I’ll take charge of the entire itinerary and set up everything,” Sam said. “I can even make up an activity list and put it in each guest’s room.”

“All right, I’m sold,” Landon said.

“I’m so glad.” Sam beamed. “I promise we’ll make your reunion truly memorable. What about the Donner Memorial, you want me to include that too?”

“Hell to the yes!” he said, and Sam looked at Nate as if to say
Ha, you should’ve given me the project in the first place.

Tracy took over the contract end of the deal. Once everything was signed and sealed, Landon left in his Prius and Andy took Tracy to the airport. Nate had to hand it to Sam for saving the day. A guy like Landon Lowery could generate lots of business for the Lumber Baron and they’d been this close to losing him. Then Sam had jumped in, spouting off activities that Nate hadn’t even known the Lumber Baron had special access to. She’d surprised the hell out of him. If Sam could make Landon’s family reunion a success, the inn would attract other VIPs for retreats, conferences, even parties.

Nate found Sam in the kitchen plating Emily’s hors d’oeuvres for the guests.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

He walked straight up to her and planted a kiss on her cheek. Just a congratulatory peck, nothing that could get him into hot water. “You did good.”

“Really?” Her face positively lit up, and Nate’s gut squeezed. She really was an extraordinarily pretty woman.

“Hell to the yes,” he said. “Just tell me there really is a Lloyd and that we have a box for the rodeo.”

“Of course there’s a Lloyd and we absolutely have a box for the rodeo.”

“Since when?” He popped one of the cheese puffs in his mouth and she slapped his hand.

“Those are for the guests. When I first started, Maddy told me to go out, meet people, make contacts, and learn about the area. Grace’s husband, over at Farm Supply, practically runs the rodeo. It’s every weekend during the summer, so Maddy and I decided to buy a box for guests to use. In the scheme of things it’s a pretty small expense and I think the guests will adore it. As far as the train, you would not believe how popular it is. So popular that it sells out the entire summer. So I introduced myself to Lloyd, who’s a sweet old volunteer, and worked out a deal so that they reserve seats for our guests and in exchange we make a small donation to the museum.” She blinked up at him, like maybe he’d be angry. “Maddy said it was okay.”

“It certainly paid for itself today. But what’s small?” he asked.

“Five thousand.”

He lifted his shoulders in resignation. Five thousand wasn’t too bad. “You won’t quit before the Lowery reunion, right?”

“No. Why are you so convinced that I’m such a short-timer, Nate?”

Because I knew someone just like you once
. “How can this town possibly hold the interest of someone in your position for long?”

“You mean someone who’s rich? You’re rich, you like it.”

“I’m not the same kind of rich as you, Sam. So don’t compare us. What I’m saying is that you’re young, you’re single, you’re sophisticated, and this town can be kind of a freak show.”

She laughed. “And you don’t think Greenwich can be a freak show?”

He looked at her. “A freak show with access to some of the best culture on earth. Here you have to travel nearly five hours for that.”

“Here, I can just be me.”

“Yeah, and who’s that?”

“The Lumber Baron’s event planner. I have to get these out there.” She lifted the tray of appetizers and started to leave.

For some odd reason, he wanted to stop her and ask her why she’d ditched her fiancé. Had she just tired of him the same way Kayla had of Nate?

The next time he saw Sam, she was leaving for the evening. “Hey,” he called to her. “You want to go to the Ponderosa and have a celebratory drink?” Nate at least owed her that for what she’d pulled off.

She looked taken aback. “Uh . . . could we do it tomorrow?”

“Why not tonight?” Maybe she had a date. Not his business.

“I have to meet with my lawyer.”

Again, not his business, but the words left his mouth before he could stop them. “Your lawyer? What do you need a lawyer for?”

“I’m suing my father. See you tomorrow.”

“C
an you break away for about an hour after breakfast?” Emily asked, putting the last touches on the best eggs Florentine Sam had ever eaten. It was only her first week on the job, but Emily seemed like she’d been working here forever. “Get those out while they’re still hot, okay?”

Sam scooped them onto individual plates and carried them out to the Dolbys from room 210. The couple, school teachers, were visiting from Seattle.

“Thanks, Sam,” Mrs. Dolby said. “Everything is delicious.”

“Just let me know if there’s anything else I can get you,” Sam said, and dashed back into the kitchen. “Where are we going?”

“To get wedding boots.” Emily said it while her head was in the oven, so Sam thought she might’ve heard wrong.

“Wedding boots?”

“Yep.” Emily straightened. “They’re a surprise for Clay.”

“That’s nice. You know his size?”

“They’re for me. To wear with my wedding gown. Clay has a thing for me in cowboy boots.”

Sam giggled. “Seriously?”

“What do you want? He’s a cowboy.” And Emily giggled too. “There is a woman across town who custom designs them, and she said if I come in today she can have them done in time.”

“So you want me to come with you?”

“I want to make sure the style works with my dress. And you’re my bridal consultant.”

“Yes, I am,” Sam said with pride.

“Donna’s coming too. Maddy had to take Emma to a doctor’s appointment.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” Emily said. “Just a routine checkup.”

Sam served the stragglers, cleared the tables, and loaded the dishwasher. Until she’d worked at the Lumber Baron, she hadn’t done too many domestic chores, but now she did a little bit of everything. Emily had already wiped down the stainless-steel countertops. The kitchen in the inn was as efficient as it was beautiful. Sam especially loved the copper pots and pans that hung over the center island.

“You ready to go?”

“Yep, let me call Donna and tell her to meet us there,” Emily said.

On their way out, Sam left a sticky note on Nate’s door, letting him know she’d stepped out for a while. He’d been deep in the weeds all morning and she didn’t want to disturb him—or disrupt what seemed to be a silent truce between them.

Emily drove them in her van to a part of Nugget Sam had never seen before. It looked pretty shabby, with small, crowded homes, broken-down porches, and dirt yards. The streets didn’t even have sidewalks.

They pulled up in front of one of the nicer homes. A tiny Craftsman with a fresh coat of paint and a wreath of dried flowers on the door.

Emily stuck her head out of her window and read the address on the mailbox. “This is it,” she said.

“Should we wait for Donna?”

“Nah. Let’s go in.”

Sam grabbed her purse and followed Emily onto the front porch. Before they even knocked, a young girl about nine or ten answered the door.

“Hi, is your mother home? I’m here to get boots made.”

The girl didn’t say a word, just disappeared inside the house. Emily and Sam looked at each other like
What do we do now?
But a few minutes later a woman appeared.

“Hi, I’m Tawny.”

“Emily Mathews. I called about boots.”

“Yeah, come on in.” Tawny opened the screen door for them.

Like the outside, the inside was tidy but extremely modest, with only a worn couch and a set of mismatched recliners in the living room. Tawny led them through the closet-sized kitchen, out the back door to a stand-alone workroom. The space, probably an old garage, housed bolts of every kind of leather imaginable. Along one wall sat a line of worktables and several industrial-looking sewing machines. Rows and rows of boots cluttered the other walls.

Sam didn’t know where to look first. There were cowboy boots made from exotic skins, ones with fancy stitching, others with elaborate inlaid designs, and ones that were monogrammed. Every one a work of art.

“Wow,” Sam said. “You made all these?”

“Yes,” Tawny said, and Sam noticed that she was quite pretty. Long brown hair and green eyes that tilted up like a cat’s. But there was also something hard about her, like maybe life hadn’t treated her too well.

“I’ve never had boots made for me. How do we do this?” Emily asked.

“First I’ll trace your feet, then you’ll pick heel and toe styles, shaft height, and the leather you want. After that, we can start working on a design.”

“Okay,” Emily said, examining the rows of boots and looking a little lost. “The only thing I’m absolutely set on is that they’re white to match my dress. And I’d like the McCreedy Ranch brand on them. The rest I’m open to.”

“Have you done wedding boots before?” Sam asked.

“Yep.” Tawny went over to a shelf, pulled out a fat binder, plopped it down on the table, and opened the book, which was filled with pictures of wedding boots. Some were tacky with cut-out hearts and ap-pliqués with the words “Just Hitched.”

“We wouldn’t want anything like that,” Sam said, pointing to the ones with a cartoon bride and groom, and noticed a barely perceptible smile on Tawny’s lips.

“It’s entirely up to you,” she said.

“We probably just want simple. Right, Emily?”

“Yeah, but with a little flair.”

Tawny motioned for Emily to sit in the chair in the back of her studio. “Let’s get the measuring and tracing out of the way.”

Emily sat and kicked off her flats. Tawny went to work drawing, while Sam and Emily continued to eye the shelves.

“I like those,” Emily said, pointing to a brown pair with bright floral embroidery.

Tawny finished tracing and got them down off the shelf so Emily could take a closer look.

“I guess all these colors would be too much,” Emily said, and Sam could tell she really loved the boots.

“What if we did a tone on tone thing, making the background one shade of white and the flowers a slightly different shade of the same color?” Sam asked.

“We could do that.” Tawny leafed through her white leather samples and threw a couple of choices on the table. In a plastic tub, she sorted through a dozen spools of white thread and just like that put together a palette of varying shades of white.

“What about the McCreedy brand? Where would we put it?” Emily asked, getting out of the chair. “I’ve got pictures of it in the van.”

“I have it.” Tawny walked over to a bank of file cabinets and pulled out sketches of the brand. When Emily looked a little surprised, Tawny said, “I used to make Tip’s boots.”

Emily told Sam, “Tip was Clay’s father. He died two years ago from a heart attack.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

“Where on the boot do you want the brand?” Tawny seemed anxious to move this along.

“Hey, ladies.” Donna glided into the workshop in her usual exuberant fashion. “You pick something yet?”

“These.” Emily held up the embroidered boots. “We’re talking about doing a white-on-white thing.”

“Ooh, I like.” Donna walked around the room, gazing at all the boots. “Tawny, where’s the ones you made for Merle Haggard?”

“At his house,” she said, and Sam presumed Tawny and Donna were friends. In a town like this, Donna had probably watched Tawny grow up.

“Show the girls what they look like,” Donna said.

Tawny got out another fat binder, turned the pages and pointed to a pair of snakeskin boots.

“Do you make boots for a lot of country music stars?” Sam asked.

“Not just country-western singers,” Donna boasted. “She made a pair for Tom Hanks. And the one who sings like a girl . . . you know . . . the one with the hair.”

“Chris Isaak,” Tawny said.

“Really?” Emily got excited. “I love him. Was he nice?”

“Very nice.” Tawny nodded.

“Who else have you made boots for?” Emily wanted to know. “What about the Dixie Chicks?”

“No. Some of the players for the San Francisco Giants. A couple of winemakers and lots of rodeo cowboys.”

Sam wondered why then did Tawny seem so down on her luck. Boots like these must cost a pretty penny.

“So where do you think we should put the brand?” Emily held up her inspiration boots.

“Is your wedding gown full length ?” Tawny asked, and Sam dug into her purse for a picture of the tea-length dress to show her. “If you want people to see it, you’ll have to put it on the vamp. It might look funny with all these flowers.”

“Hmm, what about here?” Emily pointed to a low spot on the boot next to the heel.

“That could work.” Tawny seemed to be thinking about it. “Do you have any accent colors? I don’t think we should do the brand in white. It’ll get lost.”

“It could be your something blue,” Sam said.

“I love that idea,” Donna agreed, and Tawny went back to her samples to pull a few swatches of blue leather.

“I thought we would just burn it in, like they do to the cows,” Emily said.

“We could do that. But I thought this would be dressier.” Tawny grabbed a pair of black boots off the rack and showed her a brown leather brand that had been inlaid onto the shaft.

“I like that,” Emily said. “Can we go with the same kind of heel and toe on the embroidered boots?”

“Yep. We’ll keep this whole shape—same shaft height and everything. Does that work?”

“Perfect,” Emily said, and Tawny asked to measure her calves one last time.

There would still be a few fittings, but Tawny assured Emily that the boots would be done on time. Sam, who had never owned a pair of cowboy boots, was seriously considering coming back for a custom pair. She’d have to think about a design, something that would depict her new life here.

When Sam got back to the inn, Maddy’s husband, the police chief, was there.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, fearing that there’d been an emergency.

“Yep. Just dropped by to see Nate. We’re holding a little shindig at the house this Sunday.” His radio went off with Connie, Nugget’s 911 dispatcher, on the other end. “I’ve got to respond to this,” he told Sam. “Get the details about the party from Nate.” Seconds later he ran out the door.

Andy sat at the front desk, looking glum. Sam leaned over the counter to see if she’d gotten any messages. Most people called her direct line and left a voice mail, but occasionally they would call the inn’s main number.

“Your father called.” Andy handed her a pink slip with a message. “He says you don’t answer your cell or office phone.”

She’d actually blocked his calls. Why couldn’t he be a normal father and let her live her own life? The man had to be the most controlling person in the entire universe.

“How was your gig, Andy?”

“It was great. You missed a hell of a show.”

“Next time for sure,” she said. “Is Nate in his office?”

“Yeah. The jack-off’s been here all day.”

“You shouldn’t call him that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s disrespectful, and one day he might hear you.”

Andy didn’t look too concerned. “I might get a job at the Gas and Go, working for Griffin Parks. Now he’s a decent guy.”

The last thing Griffin needed was an employee like Andy. But she kept that to herself. Griffin had recently bought Nugget’s one and only gas station and had completely modernized it. He also ran a custom motorcycle shop in the same garage. And as the owner of Sierra Heights, Griffin also happened to be Sam’s landlord. Small town.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Andy asked.

“I’m getting my hair cut on Saturday.” And apparently going to a party on Sunday, which ordinarily she would’ve totally enjoyed. But having her boss there would make it weird. Especially given that her boss was Nate.

“You wanna hang out?”

Oh boy. Andy had to be at least eight years younger than her. “Uh, I don’t think this weekend will work, Andy.”

“Okay. Maybe next weekend.”

“Mm-hmm.” She turned around and smacked directly into Nate’s hard chest. He gently grasped her shoulders to right her and Sam felt an electrical charge go through her. She chalked the sensation up to being a red-blooded woman who appreciated a nice-looking man. Nothing more.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

“I had to do a wedding errand with Emily.”

She wanted to avoid this conversation like the Ebola virus. Still riding high from yesterday’s Landon victory, Sam didn’t want to upset their ceasefire.

“Come into my office for a second?”

Uh-oh. Sam wanted to make up an excuse why she couldn’t, but followed him anyway. Either he planned to scold her for taking too long at Tawny’s, or he’d found some other infraction to hang on her.

“Shut the door,” he said, and Sam thought
not good
. “Have a seat.”

Sam dragged the wing chair from the corner so she’d be facing him.