Page 1 of Grit
Prologue
Cary didn’t knowhow she was standing, but she was. Melissa Rhodes stood across from him, all five feet and a few inches of tough. In the past three years, she’d lost her grandfather, buried her husband, and taken over the family ranch. All the while, she’d continued to raise her five-year-old daughter and take care of her mother.
And now she was standing in front of Cary, doing the one thing he knew she hated more than anything—asking for help.
She stood with her shoulders back, hands in her pockets, staring intently at the ground. “I don’t want to ask.”
“You wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” Cary cleared the roughness from his throat. “What do you need?”
She blew out a hard breath and looked away. “Just advice, I guess. I have a degree. I know all this stuff on paper, but I have no margin for error. Calvin and I had been talking about this for a while. We have all the money together for the planting.”
“You know you’re not going to see a decent harvest for a few years, right? You need enough money to float the trees for around five seasons. Can the ranch carry that?”
She looked up, and he saw a flicker of the fire he’d thought she’d lost.
Her chin rose. “I can handle it.”
“Okay.” He leaned against his truck. “I’m not gonna sugarcoat it for you; it’s a hard business and the drought has been brutal. The only reason our place has held up as well as it has is that we haven’t had to carry debt.”
Her blue eyes were steely. “What citrus variety will give me the best return the fastest?”
“You’re planting your lower acreage? The Jordan Valley side?”
“Yeah.”
Cary mulled it over. “If my dad were still living, he’d argue with me”—he stuck his hands in his pockets—“but I think you should plant mandarins.”
“Not navel oranges?”
He shook his head. “I can point you to some hardy varieties of small mandarins, and I think the market is turning hot for them. Plus you’ll get a full harvest a year sooner. How many acres?”
“Fifty for now.”
He nodded. It was a decent start for a new grower, especially one who already had a ranch. “I can give you advice, but are you sure you have time for this? The ranch—”
“I can handle the herd,” she said. “Don’t worry about that. I have seasonal workers, and Ox said he can help out more too.”
Depending on family was tricky, but Cary knew Ox, Melissa’s brother, was solid. “Okay.”
The Oxford and Nakamura families had been neighbors for Cary’s and Melissa’s entire lives. The Nakamuras grew citrus. The Oxfords raised cattle.
Melissa Oxford was twelve years younger than Cary, and as kids, they’d never been friends. They knew each other in passing at best. Nothing had prepared Cary for the gut-punch of full-grown attraction he’d experienced the first time Melissa had come back from college in Texas.
She’d left California a leggy teenager obsessed with horses and returned a strong, stunning woman with sandy-brown hair, legs for days, and a defiant smile.
She was also engaged.
It was just as well. Falling for the neighbor girl promised a few too many complications. But Cary was happy to become friends with Melissa and Calvin when they moved back to the ranch in Oakville. Cary and Calvin got close, and the latent attraction he felt for Melissa was solidly locked away.
When Calvin’s truck had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler ten months ago, Cary and his mom had been devastated. Calvin, Melissa, and their little girl, Abby, were family. Cary’s mother, Rumiko, and Melissa’s mother, Joan, mourned together. Cary had dealt with his grief by offering to help, but there was only so much he could do. Melissa was the cattlewoman; Cary grew trees.
And now she was taking fifty acres of their prime grazing land and planting citrus.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Mandarins sound good. It’s always been the plan to diversify.”
“Okay. I’m here if you need advice. I don’t know shit about cows, but I can help with the trees.” He debated asking the question, mostly because it was a sore subject for both of them. “How you doing?”
