Page 5 of Snowed In With the Maverick
Seth understood. Taylor family holidays had a reliable trifecta: excellent wines and spirits. Top-notch meals cooked by the housekeeper and chef, Lina, or, if their mother, Imogen, was feeling energetic, all of the Taylor children’s favorite dishes. And some family drama, served hot, which usually began sometime between aperitifs and hors d’oeuvres, and came to a crescendo at the sweet spot about three-quarters of the way through the meal—just in time to completely ruin dessert. And Thaddeus Taylor, who presided at the head of the table, was the chief conductor of the discord.
What kind of inappropriate comment would their father make about Mike and Daniel that could get their sister Charlotte rushing to their defense, or Seth making a comment under his breath, just loud enough for Thaddeus to hear, that made it clear none of them gave a damn what their father thought about Daniel’s relationship?
“He’ll behave himself,” Seth said. “Might be wise to give him a heads-up, though. For Mike’s sake, if anything. Spare your man a full-on familial meltdown when you announce your news at the Christmas dinner table.”
Daniel nodded. “I will.” A cold wind passed, and they started walking back to the office. “I just want to enjoy all of it first. Before Dad has the opportunity to ruin anything.”
“Happy for you, brother,” Seth said, clapping Daniel’s back. “But what if Mike says no?”
Daniel chuckled. “Well, at least you’ll still be around to keep me company.”
* * *
When Andrea entered Castillo’s, the Mexican restaurant on Tenacity’s Central Avenue, she was greeted with the heavenly aromas of cumin and oregano, and what she guessed was the freshly baked corn muffins she’d heard so much about. The decor and atmosphere of the restaurant were just as inviting as the smell of the food cooking: Colorful bunting hung throughout the space, and cheerful music spilled out of the speakers near the bar, where a man was squeezing lime juice into a cocktail shaker.
She scanned the room, which was about half-full, then out of the corner of her eye noticed someone waving from the table near the window.
Andrea waved back and approached the table where three women were sitting. She’d only met one of them, Nina Sanchez, a pretty dark-haired woman who had dropped by the ranch a couple of weeks after Andrea had moved in with a box of apple fritters from Betty’s Bakehouse bakery on Central Street as a way to say welcome to town.
“Andrea, great to see you,” Nina said. “And thanks for coming. This is Angela Corey.” She gestured to the woman beside her, who appeared to be in her mid-seventies, her silver hair cropped close in a chic, natural style that highlighted her high cheekbones and warm, deep brown skin, and then to the woman across the table, who seemed to be about Andrea’s age or a little younger and had a service dog curled up under her chair. “And this is Renee Trent.”
Angela stood up and shook Andrea’s hand. “Nice to meet you, and welcome to Tenacity. We were so happy that the ranch finally sold after all that time. Seemed a shame to have it sitting there empty.” Her handshake was as warm as her smile and set Andrea at ease. Small-town committees weren’t exactly her area of expertise, but then, nothing about this new life fit snugly into her wheelhouse.
“Thank you,” said Andrea, then turned to Renee, who took her outstretched hand next. “Nice to meet you too, Renee.”
Renee gestured to the yellow Lab under the table. “And this is Buddy. He makes sure my blood sugar levels don’t dip lower than they should.” She reached down and scratched the scruff behind Buddy’s ears, then looked back at Andrea. “We’re thrilled you could join the committee. I’m not sure how much Nina filled you in on this event, but the Holiday Hoedown is a big deal around here. We started planning in September but could really use the extra help.”
“I can’t say I’ve even been to a hoedown. But I’m happy to be included,” said Andrea.
“The money from the fundraiser we’re organizing is going to the town improvement fun,” said Nina. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that Tenacity is a little…rough around the edges.”
“It could use a little love,” agreed Renee.
“But we make up for it with a community of salt-of-the-earth residents,” said Angela. “What we lack in pristine amenities we make up for with heart.”
“I’ve started to notice that,” said Andrea.
For a moment as she shrugged off her jacket, she thought back to her first impression of Tenacity, back in July when she’d been looking at properties in the surrounding area.
Adam, her real estate agent, had arranged for her to tour five spaces, keeping in mind her specifications: quiet community, fixer-upper, room to breathe.
After they’d toured the last property of the day, she knew she wasn’t hiding her lack of enthusiasm. Adam had done a search on his phone and made a quick phone call. “Tenacity’s about a twenty-minute drive from here, if you still have time,” he’d said. “I wouldn’t call it ‘cute’ or ‘quaint’ or anything, but there’s a… There’s a certain charm to it. And this ranch, just outside of town, has good bones.”
Despite her exhaustion, Andrea had agreed, and had felt something shift in her as she’d followed Adam through the old ranch, long empty but well-kept. There was something ethereal about the quality of light that spilled into the space in the late summer afternoon. The whole ranch had glowed in a way that beckoned her. Reassured her. Like it wasn’t just wooden beams and plaster drywalls, but it was the building equivalent of a great big hug.
Unlike a few of the other properties they’d toured that were more on the modern side, or at least had been renovated within the past decade, the ranch was begging for a refresh, and Andrea could see the before-and-after pictures vividly in her mind.
After the walk-through, she’d been starving. The day had been long, and she still had an over two-hour drive in her rental car back to her airport hotel near Billings-Logan, so Adam gave her directions into Tenacity’s downtown area. “There’s a café there I’ve heard is good. Silver Spur, I think it’s called. If you go now, you’ll make it before they close after lunch,” he’d said.
Andrea remembered driving slowly down Central Avenue, taking in the little town she’d never heard of before that day, with its clapboard storefronts, the mud-spattered pickup trucks parked along the street, the handmade signs taped to the lampposts advertising community potlucks and the grain elevator in the distance.
She’d had a moment of trepidation—could she really see herself living in a place so…rustic? But lying in her hotel bed before her morning flight back to Denver, all she could think about was the warm smile on the face of the young woman who’d served her the burger she’d ordered at the Silver Spur Café on the town’s main strip, even though they were just about to close when she’d walked through the front door. The curlicue of the lettering on the hand-painted sign outside the Goodness & Mercy Nondenominational Church. The satisfying ding of the antique cash register at Tenacity Drugs & Sundries, where she’d stopped to buy a pack of gum before getting back on the road.
Despite its lack of polish, there was something about Tenacity that tugged at her. It was small. It was quiet. It was safe.
First impressions matter,Andrea reminded herself as she took her seat and accepted the menu that Angela passed across the table. “Thank you,” she said.
“Not sure if you’ve been here yet, but the enchiladas verde are worth a try,” said Angela. She made a chef’s kiss motion with her hand.
