Page 18 of Snowed In With the Maverick
He was next-level wealthy, and paying Jesse for three hours of overtime work was likely a drop in the bucket for him. But that was beside the point.
Early in their relationship, Harold had taken Andrea for dinner at a restaurant outside town, and she remembered her irritation when the waiter was passing her the thick leather-bound menu, and Harold had waved it away. He knew the restaurant well and knew exactly what to order, he’d told her. Forget the fact that she’d looked the menu up earlier that day at work and had already decided she was going to choose between the half-rack Australian lamb with honey Dijon butter and the striploin with mixed mushrooms and potato gratin, depending on how she felt at the moment.
She almost said something, but didn’t want to start the date off on the wrong food, so she’d smiled and acquiesced. The pan-seared Chilean sea bass was okay, but she remembered the moment another waiter strolled by the table with the perfect steak and regretting her decision not to speak up.
Seth’s just being helpful,she reminded herself, but something about it was still not sitting well with her.
She would ask Seth about the cost tomorrow, at the booth, then send him an e-transfer for the full amount.
And until then, she was going to enjoy her now completed remodeling of the front space.
A shiver of excitement washed over her when she pictured what it would look like once it was painted, and all the furniture was in. Deep camel leather club chairs near the fireplace, and a coffee table with stacks of nature and history books. Four o’clock happy hour, featuring some local craft beers, fresh-baked jalapeño and sun-dried tomato popovers and spiced pecans. A chest full of board games and puzzles, and a record player. One thing she’d been scouring the internet for was a vintage jukebox.
Some long-range plans included building a barrel sauna at the back of the property and hanging a few hammocks between the trees. In the meantime, some firepits would be a simple and cost-effective way to set up the outdoor space. They’d make for a cozy spot for stargazing. And, fingers crossed, if the ranch did well, there was more than enough space to build some cabins separate to the main building. Andrea loved the idea of them all having different names for different animals that were local to the region.
Or, if Seth’s plans panned out, and the majority of the guests coming through were traveling to see the dino park, maybe a nod to that?
That was down the road. In the meantime, she had to focus on getting the rooms decorated, the foyer and main living space set up and then consider the day-to-day operations of the ranch. Breakfast menus, cleaning schedules, laundry services, insurance: all the things required to operate a business like hers.
There was still a ton of work to do to get the ranch ready to open, but for now, some perfectly trimmed baseboards felt like one more big step forward.
* * *
Seth stood leaning at the edge of the corral, one boot resting on a wooden post as he observed one of the ranch’s cowboys working with a chestnut Mustang on some basic flexing and yielding, getting him ready to join their remuda sometime in the coming days. It was a quiet morning, the air still and cool.
The peaceful moment was only interrupted when he heard the trademark jingle of keys approaching that could only be one person.
Thaddeus.
His father kept his full collection of keys for various parts of the ranch on a ring clipped to his belt loop with a carabiner, an auditory signal that had been helpful to the Taylor children as kids. No matter what kind of trouble they were up to, they always had a warning when Dad was close by.
Today, Seth wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be doing. But nevertheless, he was sure Thaddeus would have something to say about it.
The jingling came to a stop as Thaddeus joined him at the corral, his Stetson casting a shadow over his white hair, a coffee mug in his hand. “Morning,” he said, glancing at the horse. “How’s that one doing?”
“Coming along,” said Seth. “He should be ready to join the fold in a few days’ time.”
Thaddeus grunted. “I’ve always preferred quarters and stocks,” he said, a hint of disdain in his voice. “Mustangs are too independent.” He paused for a moment, and if a bookie had been close by, Seth would have placed a sizeable bet on what he knew was coming next out of his father’s mouth.
“Like you,” Thaddeus said.
Jackpot.
Seth said nothing, the clomping of the mustang’s hooves filling the air. Most parents would be happy with an independent child. But Seth knew very well that the independence that his father was referencing had more to do with the fact that Seth didn’t always fall in line. He wasn’t a pleaser, the way he knew Thaddeus would have preferred.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been absent more than your fair share these days,” Thaddeus continued. “Just because your name is on the ranch doesn’t mean you don’t have to contribute just like the rest of us. Where’ve you been for those hours on end these days?”
Seth felt his blood start to boil. “There’s not a single part of my job that hasn’t gotten done,” he said.
“Maybe it’s gotten done. But not always by you. I’m not paying you to delegate your work to others.”
“I’m not—”
“Daniel’s already made it clear he’s unlikely to come back. What kind of family business is this if another Taylor drops off?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me pursuing some side projects, Dad,” Seth said. He could only imagine the field day Thaddeus would have if he shared his ideas for the dinosaur park. Not like Andrea, who seemed to believe not just in his idea, but his ability to execute it. The thought of her helped temper his annoyance in the moment, and the idea of seeing her on election day helped him fight the urge to bite back at his father. “I’m still committed to the ranch.”
Thaddeus nodded curtly, then stood back from the corral. “I hope so. Because if you’re not, I’m not sure why I’ve been busting my ass all these years to have a business to pass down.”
