“Ma’s feeling feisty this morning. We haven’t had a day like this since November, and the pair of us want to take advantage. Can you spare us a couple horses for an hour or two?”
“As long as you want. Miss Fancy, do you still favor that bay mare? The one you named Della.”
“How in the world did you remember such a thing?”
“I never forget a beautiful woman or a good horse.”
She gave him a smile that struck a perfect balance between flirtation and indulgence. Hardly a wonder he was crazy about her.
“It happens she’s in the paddock here today. If you want her, I’ll bring her in, saddle her.”
“I’d be glad to have Della, and I can still saddle my own horse.”
“I’m sure of it, but I’d appreciate you letting me do that for you. You’ve been using Wrangler in the ring, Nana, but that’s where he is right now, doing a lesson.”
“Let’s see who else you have.”
They walked over, and when Cora made her choice, Callen led the bay mare and a chestnut gelding from one paddock to another.
A hand on her hip, her denim jacket—with its emblazoned peace sign—unbuttoned, Miss Fancy eyed him while he saddled the mare.
“You’ve got good hands, boy. I set considerable store in a man’s hands. I’m surprised I haven’t heard about you using them on a two-legged female.”
“Ma.” Cora rolled her eyes as she saddled the gelding.
“If I can’t devil a boy whose backside I swatted when he was three, who can I devil? You’ve got good hands and a handsome face,” Miss Fancy added. “You ought to have your eyes on a woman.”
“As they keep roaming your way, are you offering, Miss Fancy?”
She let out a hoot. “It’s a damn shame you were born fifty—oh, hell, sixty years too late.”
“But I’m an old soul.”
She laughed again, patted his cheek. “I always did have that soft spot for you.”
“Miss Fancy.” He took her hand, kissed it. “I’ve been in love with you all my life.”
“A safe thing for a man to say to a woman pushing toward ninety.” But this time she kissed his cheek. “Don’t you go insulting me by getting a mounting block. You just give me a boost up.”
He basketed his hands, and marveled how smoothly she swung into the saddle. If he lived to pushing toward ninety, he hoped he could do the same.
“Come on, Della, let’s see how we feel today.”
While Cora checked the cinches on her saddle, Miss Fancy turned Della, turned a walk to a trot, a trot to a canter in the paddock.
“She was raring to get out today.” Cora adjusted her hat over her short crop of salt-and-pepper hair. “The winters are getting longer for her. A day like today is a gift. No, I’ve got it,” she said when he formed another basket. “We’ll have them back in a couple hours. I’m raring myself. It’s been a while since we rode around the property.”
“You enjoy it. Ah, I hope you don’t take this wrong, but do you have a phone on you?”
Little silver dangles glinted in her ears as she smiled down at him. “Both of us do, and I appreciate you worrying about us. Are you and Della ready, Ma?”
“Born ready in every life I’ve led.”
“I got the gate.” Callen crossed the sandy soil of the paddock, held it open.
The women rode through, a sedate walk. Then Miss Fancy looked back, sent him a wink. And leaped into a gallop.
“That’s all right,” he mumbled. “I didn’t need that year of my life.”
He watched them, admired them, then went back to work.
When it was close enough to quitting time, he left Ben and Carol covering and rode over to Bodine Town, leading Leo.
He tethered both horses before striding into the building, giving the front desk a wave, continuing back to Bodine’s office.
She sat at her desk, phone to her ear, scrolling through something on her computer. “Yes, I have that. Of course you can, Cheryl. We do have our own gardens, greenhouses, and … It’s absolutely up to you. Yes, we’re thrilled to have you. We’re already billing it on our website and our brochures, and will highlight you and the event beginning the first of the month.”
When she just sat back, closed her eyes, made mmm-hmm sounds, Callen poked into her cooler, took out a couple of Cokes. He opened one, put it on her desk, opened the other, sat down with it.
“I can promise you’ll find our kitchen and our staff worthy of our five-star rating. I’m afraid we can’t pay for that. If you feel you need your own sous chef, you’re welcome to bring one, at your own expense. Yes, yes, that’s firm, and is so stated in your contract. As I said, we’re delighted to have you as our guest chef for the event. I expect it to be sold-out. Please let us know your travel arrangements when you have them. We’ll have you picked up from the airport.”
As she listened again, her gaze narrowed, went just a little fierce.
“I’m sorry, Cheryl, let me just pull your contract up, see if it says anything about providing a limo. Uh-huh. Why don’t you send me an e-mail on all that, and I’ll run it right by legal. Anything else I can do, personally, to make your visit with us more enjoyable, you be sure to let me know. Bye now.”
Bodine hung up very carefully, drew a breath. “Arrogant, snootified bitch.”
“I admire that. I admire how your tone stayed absolutely polite and reasonable, even when you covered it with enough frost to crack a tree branch.”
“Cheryl’s contracted as our guest chef for next month’s Spring Bounty Banquet. She’s head chef at this swank place in Seattle, and when we invited her, did the contract, she was thrilled and cooperative. Since then she had an appearance on America’s Top Chefs, and now she’s a prima donna, wants her own people—and for us to pay for them—wants to bring her own herbs, went on about her own tit soy—”
“Tatsoi, more likely. California,” he said, and she stared holes in him. “You pick things up.”
“Tit or damn tat, I don’t care. She’s being a pain in my ass, and is suddenly insulted we aren’t providing a limo for her during her stay.”
“Tell her to kiss off.”
More fire flamed into her eyes—he admired that, too. “I’m not breaking the contract and giving her an excuse to sue. If she breaks it, I’ll deal with it. She and her tats and tits can be replaced. So…” She lifted the Coke, drank. “What can I do for you?”
“I think about that a considerable lot, but right now, it’s me for you. I’d like to take you up on the job.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Really glad, Callen.”
“I’m glad about that. Especially since I’ve got some asks of my own.”
“All right.” She picked up her pen, nudged a tablet in front of her as if prepared to note those asks down. “It never hurts to ask, unless you’re an asshole chef from Seattle.”
“Happy I’m not. I’m assuming there’s a contract involved here, too, though.”