Starting Over (Nugget Romance 4) (8 page)

“Ooh,” Mariah said. “Do you know why she dumped the guy? If so, do tell. I have a bet with Owen.”

Nate looked at her and shook his head. “With Owen?”

“Whatever the reason,” Sophie interrupted, “Sam’s no longer with him, which makes her available. As far as the employee thing . . .” She waved her hand in the air as if there weren’t workplace rules about having sex with a subordinate. “And she is too your type.”

“Really? What’s my type, Soph?”

“Beautiful women with big boobs and brains. And Sam’s a sweetheart to boot.”

“When did you two become bosom buddies?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re bosom buddies. But I like her. You like her too, right, Mariah?”

“I do,” Mariah said. “I give her a lot of credit for starting over the way she has. Especially in a town like this—not your typical milieu for a woman like her. But she seems to fit right in.”

“Well, I’m not in the market for a spoiled rich girl, even if she’s slumming it with the rest of us.”

Sophie reached for his hand. “It’s time to let what happened between you and Kayla go, Nate. It’s been ten years. If you’re not into Sam, you’re not into her. But don’t compare her to Kayla just because both women come from similar backgrounds.” Then she looked at him like she could see right inside his head. “I’ve seen you with a lot of women, Nate. But yesterday, with Sam, it was different. The current between the two of you was so strong, I could feel the charge clear across the yard. That kind of chemistry is hard to find. Don’t ignore it because you hold a decade-old grudge against someone who bears a few likenesses to Sam.”

Sophie tended to be overly romantic. He didn’t know what she’d seen at Maddy and Rhys’s barbecue, but whatever it was, Sophie had read too much into it. Sam was hot. Any single guy would’ve spent his time talking to her, hoping to get lucky.

That wasn’t electricity Sophie felt clear across the yard, that was hormones.

 

In May, Nate went to San Francisco and left Sam in charge of the Lumber Baron. He said he would be back in time to relieve her for the bridal fair in Sacramento. But oddly, the place felt lonely without him breathing down her neck.

One afternoon, Harlee and Darla came over and the three of them ate Emily’s breakfast leftovers in the kitchen.

“How are the McCreedy wedding plans coming along?” Harlee asked, pouring herself a second cup of coffee.

“Good,” Sam said. “We picked out the table linens yesterday. I talked her into these beautiful flouncy floral tablecloths—very British countryside. I think it might be the most gorgeous wedding ever.”

“Hey,” Harlee called out. “What about mine and Colin’s?” Their wedding would be in August.

Sam smiled mischievously. “I’ll have to up my game for yours, since I didn’t realize it was a competition. Please tell me you ordered the dress.”

“Done. And I picked out the bridesmaids’ dresses for Darla, my brother’s wife, and Colin’s sister, Fiona. Darla loves them, don’t you, Darla?”

“I do, even though they’re a little subdued for my taste.” One of those crazy fascinator hats with a bird bath on it would be too subdued for Darla’s taste.

“Good,” Sam said. “We’ve got to get going on your invitations.”

“My mom is coming next weekend. Maybe we can do it then.”

“Uh-uh,” Sam said. “I’m in Sacramento for a wedding fair. Oh my gosh, you guys should come. It’ll be a great way for you to look at all the vendors, everything from party favors to DJs. You can stay in the hotel with me.”

Harlee’s eyes danced with excitement. “I’ll cancel my mom and tell her to come the following weekend.”

A wedding fair to a bride-to-be was like Christmas to a child. Sam hadn’t gone to any while engaged to Royce. Not all that strange, given their situation.

“You in, Darla?” Harlee asked.

“I’m booked all Saturday with hair appointments and I promised to spend Sunday with Wyatt. He’ll be upset if I cancel.”

Harlee looked momentarily disappointed, but said, “I’ll send you pictures from the fair. You can text me yea or nay.”

“Sounds good.” Darla cut her muffin down the middle and gave half of it to Sam. “I’m trying to diet. Did you guys hear Lucky Rodriguez is coming back?”

“Who’s Lucky Rodriguez?” Harlee asked.

“Uh, world champion bull rider and the most famous person to ever hail from Nugget. Not to mention a hunk of burning love.”

“World champion bull rider, huh? Sounds like a good feature story.” Harlee pulled a reporter’s notebook from her purse. “Do you know how to reach him?”

“No, but he’s buying the old Roland summer camp on the other side of town. You can drive by and see if he’s around.”

Harlee whipped out her phone, searched Lucky Rodriguez on Google and showed the picture that came up to Darla. “Is this him?”

“Yep.” Darla waggled her brows and handed the phone to Sam for a look-see.

“Oh my,” she uttered, because the man was quite nice-looking.

“Why’s he coming back? And where’s he been?” Harlee, the consummate reporter, asked.

“I guess he’s been traveling with the PBR. I don’t know why he’s coming back; maybe he’s retiring. He’s getting kind of old for that stuff.”

“What’s the PBR?” Sam asked.

“Professional Bull Riders,” Darla and Harlee said in unison.

“It’s dangerous, isn’t it?” It had certainly looked death-defying at the one and only rodeo Sam had attended.

“Uh, yeah.” Darla finished her own muffin half, grabbed back the piece she’d put on Sam’s plate, and took a big bite. “They’re so good.”

“He’s actually buying the property?” Harlee asked.

With her mouth full, Darla said, “That’s what I was told. My dad heard that he’s opening a dude ranch.”

“Really?” Sam said. She didn’t know much about dude ranches, but she did know that they entailed lodging, which could be competition for the Lumber Baron. Jeez, she’d only been here four months and already she felt proprietary. When had that happened?

Darla nodded. “But you know how gossip works in this town. Half of it is usually wrong.”

“But it makes sense,” Harlee chimed in. “Why else would he buy such a big place? I saw it once when I went out on a story. It has a big lodge and a bunch of outbuildings.”

The phone rang. Andy had gone out to lunch, leaving Sam to mind the store. “I need to get that. Don’t say anything important until I get off the phone.”

She grabbed the phone in the kitchen. “Lumber Baron Inn.”

“What took you so long?” Nate barked.

The man was so moody, but stupidly she liked hearing his voice. “Give me a break. I’m here alone.” Unless she counted Harlee and Darla. “What’s up?”

“Just checking on things. Everything okay?”

“Yes. Hold on a second.” She took the phone to her office. “Do you know a Lucky Rodriguez?”

Nate went quiet on the other end. “No. But the name sounds familiar. What about him?”

“He rides bulls for something called the PBJ.”

“PBR.” Nate laughed. “So?”

“Apparently he’s buying the Roland property. Do you know the place?”

“Yes. Why’s he buying it?” Nate suddenly sounded very interested.

“Darla says that Owen heard that he’s opening a dude ranch.”

Silence. Then finally, “Hmm. Do me a favor—the next time you talk to Emily, ask her about it. Clay would know about that kind of news.”

“Why? Are you worried?”

“Not worried, just curious. How we doing today?”

“Good, especially for a Tuesday. Only four vacancies.”

“Nice. Where the hell is Andy?”

“He’s at lunch, Nate.” Sam felt protective of Andy, even though he was a loafer.

“All right. I’ll be back in time for your Sacramento deal. If you have any emergencies you can always call Maddy.”

“I’m fine, Nate. See you when you get back.” She hoped it would be soon. Only because having a little eye candy in the office broke up the workday.

“Thanks for taking care of the place and for the intel.”

“You’re welcome. See, I’m reliable.” Sam missed dueling with him. At first, he’d intimidated her. But she’d learned that as long as she worked hard, Nate didn’t have a problem with her speaking her mind. In fact, she got the impression he enjoyed clashing swords with her.

She went back into the kitchen to dish some more with the girls, but Harlee and Darla needed to get back to work. Darla had a cut and color at one thirty and Harlee wanted to hunt down Lucky. Reporter on the prowl.

“You’ll tell us if you find out anything?” Sam said.

“If I find anything, I’m getting the story out as fast as my fingers can type it.” Harlee updated the
Nugget Tribune
, once a weekly rag, now a daily website, constantly. The residents loved it because they could read up-to-the-minute Nugget news—like when Maddy and Rhys gave birth to Emma—on their phones. “Last thing I need is ESPN scooping me in my own backyard.”

Sam planned to watch the website like a hawk today. Four months ago, the goings-on of a hometown rodeo star wouldn’t have rated high on her scale of interests. But being up on Nugget gossip was a town requirement, and Sam had to admit that it made her feel like part of the community. She also didn’t want this Lucky Rodriguez character horning in on her business.

In her office, she plugged “dude ranch” into her computer search engine and checked out various sites. A lot of rustic ones, where the guests stayed in bunkhouses and worked for their supper. She didn’t see how those would attract the same kind of clientele as the Lumber Baron. It was the ones that were like resorts with swimming pools, game rooms, and four-star chefs that had her worried. A lot of those specialized in large events like weddings, family reunions, and corporate retreats. Not good if that’s what this Lucky Rodriguez fellow had in mind. Not good at all.

“Hey, Sam?” Back from lunch, Andy, who hadn’t learned the fine art of knocking, barged into her office. “Your dad’s on the phone.”

Oh no!
“Did you tell him I was here?”

“Yeah,” Andy said. “You want me to tell him you’re in the bathroom?”

“No, no. I’ll take it.” She looked at the blinking line on her telephone and wondered why she hadn’t heard it ring. Andy, of course, just stood there. “Thanks, Andy.”

She sat there, waiting for him to leave, and when he finally got the clue, Sam shut the door behind him. Blowing out a long breath, she answered the phone.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“So I guess you got a call from my attorney.” She held the phone receiver against her chest and counted to five. He was still yelling when she came back on. “Daddy, Daddy . . . Daddy . . . Oh, for goodness’ sake, will you just let me get a word in?”

“Do you know what kind of negative press a stunt like this could cost our family? Really, Samantha, why are you doing this? Why would you intentionally try to embarrass us this way?”

“I haven’t filed anything yet, Daddy. But I will if you leave me no choice.”

“All I want is for you to come home and stop this nonsense. Is that too much for a father to ask?”

“Yes, it is,” she said. “Can’t you understand that I want my own life?”

“You can have your own life, here, at Dunsbury Hall, where you belong.”

She cringed. Dunsbury Hall. Now that she’d left, it sounded so pretentious. “I like it here, Daddy.”

“What about Royce?”

He didn’t know about Royce, and even if he did, he wouldn’t understand. “There is no Royce,” she said. “There is zero chance of reconciliation.”

Her father started to say more on the Royce topic when Andy rushed into her office again. “We’ve got trouble.”

“Daddy . . . Daddy, I have to go. I’ll call you tonight. Love you.” She hung up and got to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

“The couple in room 207 say the bathroom above them is leaking. All their stuff’s ruined.”

Great! Why did this have to happen on her watch? She went out into the lobby to find two livid people. Neither of them said a word, just folded their arms over their chests and stared daggers at her.

Finally the woman said, “We want our money back and we want to be reimbursed for the damage.”

Nate would surely kill her, but what else could Sam do in a situation like this. “Of course,” she said. Her ready acquiescence seemed to surprise the woman. “We are so sorry for the inconvenience this caused. Let me just run upstairs and assess the damage and then I’ll get you settled.”

She grabbed the master key and jogged up the stairs, praying that the room wasn’t a swimming pool. It turned out it was only a slow drip coming through the ceiling. Not the end of the world. Sam wiped the dresser where the water had started to puddle, grabbed a bucket from the utility closet, and placed it under the leak. Crisis averted. At least until she could get Colin out to fix the problem.

When she returned to the registration desk, the husband put his open valise on the top of the counter and shoved it at her. “All these clothes, ruined.”

They merely looked soggy to Sam. She glanced at the front desk cheat sheet for a name and said, “Mr. Cole, we’re terribly sorry. The Lumber Baron would be happy to launder your clothing or else pay for your cleaning bill, whichever you prefer. We’ll also get you moved to a dry room.”

“We don’t want another room, we want our money back,” he said. “As for the clothes, these will all need to be replaced—not laundered.”

Sam felt the mother of all headaches coming on and tried to guess what Nate would do in a situation like this. The leak was hardly the deluge these people were making it out to be, but wasn’t there a rule that the customer was always right?

“We will absolutely reimburse you for the room, Mr. Cole. You and your wife are welcome to stay in another room as our guests. As for the garments, I really think a good laundering ought to do it.”