Page 12 of Swift and Saddled

Right.

Focus.

“Do you wanna sit?” I asked, and gestured toward the table. “We can go over…uh…everything.” Well, maybe not everything. I made my way past her and pulled out a chair for her across from where my dad was sitting. She looked apprehensive but sat down anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I misplaced my iPad last night—left it somewhere—so I had to write everything down in a notebook, and I might’ve missed something. I’m going to grab it tonight, so is it okay if we meet tomorrow? I really apologize.”

She was talking to my dad, not me, but the disappointment—in herself—that I could hear in her voice triggered a small pang in my chest.

I guess there was a reason I’d grabbed her bag off the floor of the bar last night. Instead of sitting, I went over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the canvas tote, then came back to the table and placed it gently in front of her.

Ada looked up at me, brown eyes wide. I rubbed at the back of my neck and explained, “Things that get left at the Devil’s Boot might as well get sucked into a black hole—never to be seen again.”

I tore my eyes from her and looked at my dad. I hated thatthis was happening under his gaze, but his expression was blank. His eyes were narrowed a little bit, but that was his only tell that the wheels in his head were turning.

The man always cleaned house at his standing poker game, and it was easy to see why.

“Uh…thank you?” she said, like she didn’t quite know how to react. If I were her, I wouldn’t know how to react either. Earlier, I thought this could’ve been a glass slipper scenario, but now that the situation was unfolding, I felt kind of creepy for taking her bag.

That’s probably what she was thinking—that I was fucking creepy.

“I didn’t look in it or anything—I just didn’t want it to get ruined. I know the bar owner, and he was going to help me track you down to return it.”

She nodded slowly, still unsure.

“Funny how things work out, isn’t it?” That was my dad. He was smiling a bit now—always so fucking observant. “Weston is right about the Devil’s Boot—it’s where things go to disappear—people included.” Ada pushed out a laugh.

“This is great,” she said. It seemed like she was starting to find her footing. I could almost see a mask slipping over her features—what kind of mask, I didn’t know, but damn, I wanted to find out. “Thank you,” she said to me. “You saved me a trip down that dirt road. I don’t think my car would’ve survived.” As I sat down, Ada reached into the bag and pulled out her tablet and stylus.

“So, normally I start by making sure that I answer any questions about the contracts. I know you’ve signed them”—she looked at me and then at my dad—“but, Amos, do you have any questions?”

“No. Weston and I reviewed them with our lawyer before signing, and everything looks great.” Cam was helping us with the legal stuff. My dad had had another lawyer for years, but he had a soft spot for my niece’s mom. She was family, and Amos Ryder took that seriously.

She hadn’t yet passed the bar exam when she reviewed the contracts, but she’d taken it in February and there was no doubt in any of our minds that she would. Her results would probably come any day now.

“That’s great,” Ada responded. She sounded more confident, more professional now. Like she was getting into a groove. “So, we’ll finish up any demo that you’ve already started, then we’ll start with the largest undertakings: the kitchen, living spaces, and bathrooms. Once we finish those, we’ll start on the bedrooms and the exterior at the same time. If all goes according to plan, we should finish up by June fifteenth, but the end date on the contract is July first because the only thing that’s ever certain in a renovation is that something will go wrong.” Ada laughed a little.

If I hadn’t heard her real laugh at the bar last night, it would’ve been believable. But this laugh was practiced, calculated.

“My contractor, Evan, will be arriving tomorrow. He’ll help manage the project and the local crews.” I knew about Evan—he was included in some of the emails, and I’d coordinated his extended stay at the Poppy Mallow Inn just outside of town—but hearing his name fall from her lips now made my nostrils flare.

What the fuck? No, I did not get to be jealous of another man’s name on her lips when I’d known her for less than twelve hours. That was asshole behavior, and I tried really fucking hard not to be an asshole.

“I emailed Evan’s accommodation reservation to both of you last week, so he should be good to go when he arrives,” I said, trying to be helpful.

“Speaking of accommodations,” my dad chimed in, “Ada, I know you said that you preferred to stay on-site for long projects when possible.” Ada nodded. Where was my dad going with this? I’d already prepped the cabin closest to Baby Blue for her. “Weston prepared one of our cabins for you, but we’ve been having some water issues due to this year’s heavy snowfall. I got word this morning that the cabin has flooded.”

Shit. I didn’t know that—it must’ve just happened.

“We’ll work on getting it back up to standards, but until then, you’re welcome to stay here—in the Big House.”

“Oh.” Ada seemed caught off guard. “This is your home—I could never impose.”

“It’s not an imposition, I promise. We’ve got plenty of space—I’ve already made up a room for you—and plenty of food, and this way, you can still stay on-site.” My dad was smiling. He loved it when people were in the Big House. It was usually just him and me. “Plus, the Big House is closer to the project site than your cabin would’ve been, and you’re welcome to our four-wheelers and side-by-sides, so you don’t have to drive your car through the ranch’s terrain. And when your cabin is ready, you won’t have to go very far.”

“Um…that’s very kind of you…” Ada was stumbling over her words. “I do appreciate it, but…”

“It’s temporary, Ada,” I said without thinking, but I had a feeling she didn’t want to take the offer because of me. If she preferred to stay on-site, and if that’s what helped her set herself up for success, then I didn’t want her to have to give that up. “We can probably get your cabin squared away in a week or so.”

---