The Rancher and the Event Planner

Chapter Eleven



Welcome to the Salvation Summer Festival. Stepping into sun-washed Salvation Park, JC admired the banner strung between two poles proclaiming her first big event to save the town from extinction. She walked toward a large white tent filled with tables and chairs awaiting the crowd ready to sample ten different kinds of pizza. Several people spoke to her and waved. She chalked up another mark on her mental score sheet for how many times people had been glad to see her.

Anticipation brought a smile when she noticed a Dallas television station van in the parking lot. Maybe they would do a feature and put them on the news. A story about Salvation on television would put this town on the map.

Fanning her face with her sunhat, she gazed at the sky. A few white, puffy clouds dotted the sky like scoops of vanilla ice cream in a blue bowl. The temperature was holding steady in the upper eighties but the humidity was off the scale.

She glanced at her watch. The chef still hadn’t shown up but he promised he would be here. As long as he arrived and did his job today, because she wanted this day to be a huge success. So far, she’d managed to work off a chunk of her community service hours and after today she’d be able to add several more.

“JC!”

Molly ran toward her with Rafe not far behind. Squatting down, she gave Molly a hug, the scents of sunshine and light sweat enveloping her. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“Me too.”

The crew was busy inflating the hot air balloon and Molly’s eyes grew big. “Wow, what’s that?”

“It’s a hot air balloon. Would you like to take a ride?”

“Only if you and daddy go with me.”

JC rose but didn’t say anything.

Rafe nodded. “Quite a turn out.”

JC skimmed her gaze over the crowd of people flowing into the park. “Yes, isn’t it great?” She looked at him hoping for a word of encouragement or a glimmer of excitement and pride in his eyes. Instead his expression registered only mild interest.

“So far so good. Where’s the pizza you advertised?”

“The chef is a little late but I’m sure he’ll be here. Probably got stuck in traffic or something.”

“Probably. One of the horses foaled this morning and it was difficult.”

Concern squeezed JC’s heart. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did everything turn out okay?”

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. Mother and colt are doing just fine.”

“The baby horse is so cute,” Molly said.

“I’d love to see him sometime,” JC said glanced at Rafe.

“The wine tasting event is ready to start,” a man announced with a bull horn. A crowd of people migrated toward the tables laden with different wines.

“Hey, JC,” Linc said walking up with a glass of wine in his hand. “Great wine. Have you tried any yet?”

“No, they’ve just started. How did you get served so fast?”

With a smug expression he said, “I told them I was a judge and I would look the other way because they didn’t have their license displayed if they would give me a free glass of wine.”

JC laughed. “I wish I had known you could be bribed when I first arrived.”

Linc held a finger up against his lips and made a shushing sound. “Not so loud or everybody will be lining up at my chamber door. Truthfully, since the wine is free they don’t need to display a license.” He crooked one arm. “Be my escort?”

“I’d love to, but I have a few things I need to see to. Rain check?”

Linc’s gaze flew from her and onto a pretty young woman who was chatting with a group of people. Barely looking in JC’s direction he said, “Excuse me,” and headed toward the woman. Something tugged her dress. Looking down, three little red-haired boys with freckles stood before her. They were dressed as cowboys with chaps, hats and boots and each held a frosty drink in their hands. “Where’s the pizza?” one of them asked.

“Yeah,” another one said, “We’re hungry.”

“I like pepperoni,” the third boy said.

She checked the time again. The cook was nearly forty five minutes late, but she pushed her worry aside determined to think positive. “The pizza should be here soon, I promise.”

The boys ran off toward a group of their friends. JC pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed the shop in Dallas. “Paulo’s Place” a female voice said on the other end of the line.

“Hi, this is JC Barrett in Salvation Texas. Anton was supposed to be here almost an hour ago and people are waiting. Where is he?”

“Hey, lady, I just make pies. I don’t own the place.”

“May I speak to the manager please?”

“Can’t. Anton’s at a big party over in Garland.”

“What! He’s supposed to be here at this event. Why didn’t he call me? Is someone else coming to take over?”

“Only me and Jimmy are working today. We can’t drive all the way to Salvation.”

“What am I supposed to do? Give me his cell number.”

“Anton says never to give out his private number.” Someone shouted in the background. “I gotta go.” A dial tone buzzed in JC’s ear.

She dropped her hand to her side still clutching her phone until the metal bit into her skin. “Damn it.”

“Problem?”

At the sound of Rafe’s voice she cringed inwardly. Of all the people to witness this first failure why did it have to be the man she was trying to prove that she belonged here at his side? What was she going to do? The guy in Dallas had been highly recommended by her first choice of caterer who had another event already lined up. She had been counting on this day to be a success. She looked toward the people crowded around the wine tasting station. At least one part of the event was going well.

She plastered a smile on her face determined to remain positive and turned. Rafe’s hat, cocked on one side of his head cast his face in shadow. Jeans and black boots made her heart go pitter-pat. A t-shirt stretched over his chest emphasizing his toned pectorals. Every time she was near him she fought for breath because the man sucked oxygen from the air with his presence.

“No, just a minor hitch. I’ll take care of it.” She glanced away to give herself a moment to steady her thumping heart and regain her breath. A myriad of voices and laughter echoed around the park and everywhere she looked people seemed to be having a good time. The news crew was chatting with a group of people by the wine tasting table while a camera man filmed the event. She focused her attention back on Rafe. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah. I took Molly over to check out the balloon, but the owner and crew have adiosed the site.”

Her gaze darted to the hot air balloon tethered to the ground, the owner and crew was nowhere in sight. Oh, no, where were they? Kids and adults stood around peering inside the basket. “I’ve got to find them. See you later,” she said moving around him.

His fingers gently grasped her arm, the warmth searing its way through her bare skin down to her bones. “Need some help?”

She looked up into Rafe’s eyes, shining with sincerity. He really wanted to help and she was beyond grateful. “Sure, that would be great. Thanks.”

Rafe went in one direction and JC in the other. JC passed the face painting booth, the concession stands and the wine tasting area but didn’t see the crew’s red shirts with the company logo.

“JC.”

JC rushed over to Rafe standing outside the tent. He gestured toward the back.

Slouching around one of the tables, the owner and his crew slurped beer. Half-full pitchers and empty plastic cups littered the top of the table. One of the men belched loudly and the others cracked up laughing. The owner started to sing The Yellow Rose of Texas in an out of tune slurred voice.

Booze messed up everything. Despite this belief she had organized the wine tasting to promote area vintners and to help the town. She knew deep inside that not everyone who imbibed in beer or wine drank to excess, but she couldn’t stop the anger and revulsion from stinging her veins as she marched to the table. Her father’s addiction to the bottle had ruined his life and those around him namely her and her mother and now, today of all days. “Mr. Shaunessy, you’re drunk,” she said in a loud voice.

Looking at her bleary eyed, a comical expression spread over the man’s face. “I am at that.” He burst into laughter and his crew followed.

Frustration boiled up inside JC. “What about the balloon rides? What am I supposed to do now?”

He held up one finger. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right there as soon as I finish this beer.”

JC closed her eyes and exhaled. “Mr. Shaunessy, unless you can get another crew here you can’t fly the balloon drunk. As soon as you sober up, I’d like all of you to take your equipment and leave.”

The man frowned. “Hey, it’s just a few beers.”

JC whipped around to leave and bumped solidly into Rafe. She had to try to salvage what was left of the day. First, she needed to implement plan B, but she had no idea what plan B was. “Excuse me.”

* * *

Watching JC disappear into the crowd, Rafe stepped from the relative cool of the tent and tossed his half-full cup of beer into one of the trash receptacles. He needed to go after her and offer his help and he knew it had more to do with just this event being a success for the town. He hated seeing disappointment in her eyes. He wanted to put a smile back on her face. He saw Molly’s teacher pushing her on one of the park swings and headed in their direction.

“Rafe.” He turned and saw his brother walking toward him, dressed in jeans and a short sleeved shirt. The new hat he wore shaded his face from the broiling sun. “I just saw Jennifer and she looked madder than a calf with a barbed wire tail. I called to her but she kept going. Did you say something to piss her off?”

Rafe’s mouth popped open. “Me? Why do you think it was me?”

“Because a blind-folded bull rider caught up in a stampede could see that girl has fallen head over saddle for you.”

Rafe snorted but inside his heart bumped against his ribs. She couldn’t have fallen for him. Could she? “Jennifer was upset because the balloon owner and his crew got hammered, so no rides today.”

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Linc gave him his best you’re-an-idiot look. “How can you be so dense? Anybody can see the two of you belong together. Why can’t you?”

Rafe rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do but—”

“Save it. Whatever you do I hope you don’t end up breaking her heart.” Linc walked away.

Molly jumped out of the swing and ran to Rafe’s side. “Hi, Daddy.” He picked her up and she gave him a feather light kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, punkin . Having fun?”

“Yeah, but I’m hungry. I want some pizza.”

“I don’t think there’s going to be any today, Chickapen. No one has—”

“Attention everyone! There has been a delay in getting things ready, but rest assured we will be serving piping hot, delicious pies in just a few minutes, so don’t go anywhere.”

The sound of Jennifer’s voice over the bull horn she held in her hands surprised him. Behind her Grace and some of the other servers from the Bluebonnet were bustling about with sacks of flour and other ingredients. “Seems there will be pizza today.”

* * *

JC plunged her hands into a mound of dough, folding over the soft mass onto itself and pressing it down with her palms. As soon as she’d left the tent she found Grace and she had generously sent some of her staff over with supplies and extra hands to help her.

“Okay, enough kneading. Cover the dough and let it rise while you mix up some more dough.”

JC’s head snapped up to find Rafe standing at her side. She took in the white, ruffled apron tied around his waist and couldn’t help smiling. “I love the new look.”

Rafe tilted his head slightly to the side. “Did you think all I was good for was punching cows?”

She could think of a lot of things Rafe McCord would be good for and none of them had anything to do with cows or cooking. Like Rafe naked except for an apron playing peek-a-boo with paradise while feeding her a succulent slice with extra cheese, popped into JC’s head. Her body temperature blasted from normal to hot damn in the span of a few seconds. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m helping you make crust—the right way,” Rafe said slipping on a pair of plastic gloves. “Besides, I like working with my hands.”

He manipulated the dough with ease, pressing his palm into the mixture, plying the white mass into the shape his fingers dictated. Imagining how his hands could arouse her body, JC’s skin flushed hot. She grabbed one of the extra flyers advertising the event she’d had left and furiously fanned her face and neck. “The right way?” she asked thankful her voice sounded normal. “I know how to mix flour and water together.” She pointed to several covered bowls filled with dough.

“There’s more to a great crust than flour and water. Always take your time when handling the dough, letting it rise slowly, allowing the ingredients to meld for an exquisite burst of flavor on the tongue.”

The words rising and tongue used in the same sentence made her nipples hard. He poured a little olive oil onto the bottom of a pan, tilting it to coat the surface. Grabbing the hunk of dough, he dusted it with some flour and began pressing it into a circle on the oil covered pan.

“Why did you put oil on the pan?”

“Makes the crust extra crispy,” he said without taking his gaze from his work. “It lubricates the pan and makes the dough more pliable. You never want to have hard, chewy or stiff dough.”

Maybe not dough, but one thing in particular benefited from being hard and stiff. She glanced at his crotch. Would the man be that focused in bed?

She had to get a grip. This was about crust not foreplay. She’d never seen a man so serious about the crust business, but at the same time she didn’t need Mr. Tall, Dark and Hunky teaching her how to mash dough and slap it on a pan.

“While I’m preparing this crust, mix up some more dough and add some butter to the mix,” Rafe said. “Massage it in slowly. The butter will make it finger licking good.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious,” Grace said from the other side of the long work table. “Mind if I mix up the dough, JC?”

“Not at all. I appreciate the help.” Everyone had drawn her close since she’d arrived back in town. And now it seemed that Rafe no longer blamed her for what had happened at the barbecue and he shouldn’t because it totally wasn’t her fault or his for that matter. Now here he was at her side helping her. She knew deep inside her heart that they belonged together. Was he beginning to see it now, too? “I’ll get started on the vegetables.” She grabbed a red bell pepper and began chopping. She might not be a crust buff, but she knew how to chop.

“Whoa!” Rafe said eyeing the growing pile of diced peppers on the cutting board. “Size matters, Jennifer. Here, let me show you.”

“Whatever,” she said and handed him the knife with a smile.

“I’m just trying to help.”

“First it’s my crust and now it’s my chopping technique.”

“It isn’t your technique. Did you know the average human has approximately ten thousand taste buds?” He bit into a green olive and chewed.

She loved olives. She loved them even more watching Rafe eat one. How would an olive taste on his lips?

“I can taste this olive on the entire surface of my mouth, under the tongue, inside my cheeks and even the roof of my mouth.” He licked his lips and looked at her. “The taste buds on the lips are extra sensitive to salty foods.”

His tongue swept over his lips causing her lust factor to shoot off the scale. She needed to stop thinking about Rafe in terms of sex, otherwise she was going to become as soft and pliable as the mounds of dough lying on the table waiting to be made into crusts. And the last thing she wanted to be was soft and pliable. She needed to keep herself strong because this job and her future depended on it. “Where did you learn so much about taste buds?”

He grinned. “High school biology and the kissing booth at the school carnival.”

Thinking about the last time Rafe kissed her by the stream at the barbecue made her heart rate jump. She remembered a young Rafe McCord flashing his pearly whites and giving the girls a come-hither look from his startling blue eyes. She tilted her head and laid the tip of her index finger on her chin. “I remember the kissing booth at the school carnival but it was manned or I should say “womaned” by the girls and I was one of them. Come to think of it I remember tasting a lot of flavors back then like cotton candy, soda pop and fried cinnamon tortillas.”

Rafe gave her a long, simmering look and said, “Yeah, the boys were lining up.” His voice was deep, husky and caused a shiver to dance over her skin. Her pulse ka-boomed through her veins and her breath grew shallow. They were lining up all right but not for her. Rona and her drum beaters were the lip lock queens in the kissing booth. She focused her attention back to the pepper to regain her composure and said, “So, you were saying something about size?” She almost glanced again at his crotch but was able to control herself.

“Right. When someone takes their first bite you want the flavors, the juices to explode on their tongue and the way to make it happen is to chop the vegetables into slightly larger chunks. Like this.”

Rafe held the pepper cutting it into long, chunky strips. He picked up two pieces of the pepper, the smaller size she had chopped and one of the bigger strips and held it in front of her lips so she could take a bite. He looked into her eyes then shifted his gaze to her mouth. Her lips tingled. “Open up.” He placed the smaller piece of pepper on her tongue. “Now chew and tell me what you taste.”

She wondered if some of the flavor of the pepper was mixed with the flavor of his skin and found herself wanting more. She swallowed and said, “It tastes sweet and crunchy but not that juicy.”

His lips curved and his eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah…juicy is essential.” He held up a larger piece of pepper and said, “Okay, this time close your eyes while I place it on your tongue.”

She closed her eyes with her heart pounding and opened her mouth. Rafe placed the pepper on her tongue, his fingertips lightly grazing her tongue and the surface of her lower lip. She nearly groaned. Closing her mouth, she chewed trying to focus on the flavor of the pepper and not Rafe’s delicate touch on her mouth. When she opened her eyes, Rafe was staring at her. “Juicy, definitely juicy.”

He nodded, still looking at her. “Yum,” he said in a low voice. “Finish chopping the vegetables while I help put some pies in the oven. Just wait until you taste how juicy the ingredients are when they’re hot.”

When he mouthed the words juicy and hot, she wanted to leap into his arms, clamp her legs around his waist and go for it.

In a few minutes, the first pies were ready and the crowd began sampling the tasty treats. After the first rush, JC took a breather and stepped out of the tent. Rafe was standing with Molly munching on slices. Molly smiled and waved at her while Rafe tipped his hat. Something swelled inside JC, a feeling of accomplishment and pride but also pride in the people of Salvation. It was amazing how so many people had come together to help her. And Rafe had offered his expertise as well. He’d not only taught her something about making a great pie, but had helped her realize how close she’d come to her lust threshold.

“To Jennifer,” Rafe called interrupting her thoughts, “for making the best pizza in the state.”

Unexpected tears filled JC’s eyes as pride flooded her body. Despite the rocky beginning, the day had turned out to be a success.