Libby liked Jackson. She’d known him since almost the day he’d shown up in Pine River more than a year ago. She knew there was a lot of speculation about him—he’d told people he got tired of big business lawyering and had come to the mountains to chill out. But the truth was that Jackson was gone a lot, and he kept to himself. He didn’t really date anyone in town, although Libby knew there were a few women in town who would definitely be interested. Sherry Stancliff, for one, judging by the way she kept trying to catch his eye.
Jackson had been Libby’s father’s last financial manager—Grant tended to fire them when they advised against outrageous and foolhardy investments. Jackson had come in at the last possible moment, a few months before her father had died. He couldn’t stop the financial damage her father had begun—meaning, losing everything he’d ever had—but Jackson had managed to save Homecoming Ranch for Libby and her sisters.
Now that her father was gone, and the ranch had been probated, Libby didn’t understand what Jackson did. He wasn’t being paid by the estate any longer, but he still tried to help her and Madeline manage it. Tonight, he was grilling her on the specifics of the Gary and Austin wedding, shaking his head as she described what they’d planned and what Gary and Austin had agreed to pay.
“Where’s the profit? There’s no profit in that, Libby,” he scolded her.
“There is some profit,” Libby argued. “I thought it would be better to get the business so we could say we’ve had the experience rather than make a lot of money at first.”
“That’s not going to work,” Jackson argued. “Yes, you need the experience, but you also have to cover your operating costs. If you really want to turn Homecoming Ranch into an event destination, you’re going to have to figure out how to turn a profit. You need help, kid.”
“I am painfully aware,” Libby snorted. “I could use a lot of help.”
“What about Emma?” Jackson asked. “She’s an event planner, right?”
What about Emma? Most of the time, Libby couldn’t get her on the phone, and when she did, Emma was elusive or, worse, bored. “Honestly, I don’t know what she does,” Libby said. “But she’s made it very clear, she’s not coming to Colorado. Not to help, not to visit.”
Jackson nodded and looked thoughtfully at his plate. “Look, I’ll ask around, find someone we can talk to,” he said. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it. “Don’t worry, Libby,” he said kindly. “I know how much you need Homecoming Ranch. We’ll figure out something.”
With that, he turned to talk to Greg on his left.
Libby stared at his back. What did he mean, she needed Homecoming Ranch? She inadvertently glanced across the table, to where Sam was deep in conversation with Michelle.
She instantly looked away and leaned back. She’d actually been a little excited when she saw Sam tonight, and more than a little curious as to what that kiss had meant to him. She hadn’t expected that perhaps it didn’t mean anything to him. He’d certainly made that abundantly clear.
Free country. Libby rolled her eyes.
And then again, what did she care? She had her hands full with the ranch and making nice with Ryan so that she could see Alice and Max. She didn’t need Sam’s kiss hanging over her head.
She glanced at Sam, at his square jaw, and the way one dark strand of hair curved over his temple. A fluttery feeling shot through her, and she looked away . . . right into Leo’s eyes, who had shifted his chair around to face her. He smiled crookedly. “What are you thinking about, Libster?”
“I’m thinking I’m really full.”
“Liar. You know MND is like going blind, right? You can’t do as much stuff, but your powers of perception get like, super strong. Which means I am also very perceptive.”
“You forgot modest.”
He grinned. “I don’t have enough time left to be modest. So what’s up with the ranch?”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “We’re meeting with Austin and Gary and Gary’s mom next week.”
“Not that. I’m talking about the ranch. Everyone’s in a tizzy thinking that it’s going up in flames because you don’t have any anniversaries or retirement parties or bar mitzvahs lined up.”
“Bar mitzvahs?” Libby said, trying to follow.
“Just raising the possibility,” Leo said congenially. “What I mean is you’ve got folks worried that you don’t have anything lined up, and ergo, Homecoming Ranch is going into the toilet. That would not be good. Not good at all.”
“I agree,” she said. “But right now, we have a lot on our plate in staging this civil ceremony. After it’s done, I’m going to develop a business plan. I’ve already talked to Michelle.”
“Hmm,” Leo said, and frowned thoughtfully as much as he was able. “Sounds like something you’d say to cover up the fact that you don’t have any ideas, Libs. Oh! I can see by your expression that I am right. Again! It’s amazing, isn’t it?”