The Cowboy And The Ceo

“Care to wager that bottle of Chardonnay against that?”

He opened the picnic basket and pulled out several items wrapped in waxed paper. “You know, we’ve had a few bull riding events at Madison Square Garden.”

“No kidding?”

“No kidding. Now, grab a chair and let’s see what Cookie made for us.” He opened one of the bigger packages. “Roast beef sandwiches.”

He kept unwrapping and found pickles, a container of macaroni salad, two apples, potato chips and a couple of cans of cranberry-grape juice.

“Cookie thinks of everything,” Clint said.

“What’s his real name?”

“I don’t know, actually. Every cook is called Cookie. It’s a throwback to the chuck-wagon and trail-drive days.” He held up the bottle of Chardonnay. “Some wine?”

“Why not?”

Clint opened the wine and found a couple of glasses in the cabinet next to the sink. Filling them halfway, he handed one to Susan. “Here’s to your stay at the Gold Buckle Ranch.”

“Thank you.” They clinked glasses. “You like it here, don’t you, Clint?”

“I do. I love the kids. They have a lot of heart and what we cowboys call try. The volunteers that come every year are special people, and the Dixons are the epitome of try. I see that you have the word in your logo.”

“Emily liked my logo, too. That’s why I’m here, I guess. But I can’t take all the credit. My mother and I came up with our motto, theme, mission statement, whatever you want to call it when we were making nurses’ uniforms in our kitchen. Trying our best is what got us through some tough years.”

“And now you’re the CEO of your own company.” He shook his head. “That took a ton of ‘try.’”

The way her eyes brightened and the way she smiled, he could tell she was proud of herself. She should be. But there was still that haunting sadness in her eyes.

They ate and talked about nothing in particular and everything in general until he noticed that she was trying to stifle a yawn.

He was just about to leave when Mrs. D came up the steps of the Homesteader Cabin.

“I saw your light on, Susan, and I wanted to stop by and welcome you to the Gold Buckle Ranch,” Emily said. “Evening, Clint. Did you see to our guest?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I knew you would.” She flashed him a teasing smile.

“Emily, do come in.” Susan stood, looking for her sample books. “Would you like to talk about the merchandise now?”

“Heavens no, sweetie. It’s late and you must be exhausted. I just wanted to welcome you and make sure you have everything you need.”

Mrs. Dixon enveloped Susan in a big bear hug. Susan closed her eyes and looked uncomfortable at first, but Emily didn’t let go. Eventually, Susan’s tense expression turned into a big grin.

And Clint realized that Susan seemed to need just such a hug.

Emily was about Susan’s height, and was one of those women who perpetually smiled. She wore her brown hair short, tucked behind her ears, and she seemed like a bundle of controlled energy.

Emily took a couple of steps into the Homesteader Cabin. “Maybe I will come in for a minute. It’s been a stressful day—nothing big—just a bunch of little things.”

“Anything I can help you with?” Clint asked.

Emily made her way to the living room and sat down on the couch, clearly exhausted. “I don’t think so, Clint, but thanks, anyway. My biggest problem is that my arts and crafts teacher had to leave tonight. She was going to chaperone on the trail ride, too. Her daughter is having a baby, and it’s coming earlier than they thought.”

“I hope you find someone,” Susan said.

“Me, too. I’d hate to cancel the arts and crafts program next week when the Gold Buckle Gang program begins. The kids just love making things and taking them home as presents.”

“How about someone from town?” Clint asked.

“I’ve already put out feelers, but so far, there have been no calls, and I’m running out of time. Beth wanted to help—” She turned to Susan. “Beth’s my daughter-in-law, Jake’s wife. But she’s due to deliver her baby in a couple of weeks, and the doctor wants her to stay off her feet.”

Susan knew she should offer to help, but she’d be leaving in a couple of days herself. Besides, she truly didn’t know if she could handle working with the kids in such close proximity.

She’d kept her charity work at a distance by donating money and by organizing and running fund-raisers. She did everything she could for handicapped children in Elaine’s memory. But she had never worked with children on a one-on-one basis. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to face that pain.

“Well, this is my problem,” Emily said to Susan. “I didn’t mean to burden you with it on your first night. You’re here to relax and enjoy our spa. It should be operational soon. You’re staying with us a week. Right, Susan?”

Susan bit back a smile at the spa reference. She now knew that it was a hot tub on a deck somewhere. “Don’t worry about the spa. And, Emily, I’m sorry, but I’m only staying for a couple of days.”

As he listened to the women chatting, an idea struck Clint—one that guaranteed him more time with Susan. Clint snapped his fingers. “Susan, why don’t you take over the class. You’ll be great. The kids will love you. Stay the week.”

Emily smiled. “Oh, Susan, that would be wonderful! I don’t think the classes would take up too much of your time. Just Monday through Friday—two hour-long classes a day.”

Susan’s mouth went dry, and she felt an uncomfortable lump in her stomach. She had to convince Emily that she wasn’t staying for an entire week. That she’d planned on leaving the day after tomorrow.

“I don’t know if I’d be that great with the kids,” Susan finally said.

“Sure you would.” Clint winked at her. “And I really love your company’s motto—For Those Who Try Their Best.” He raised an eyebrow, pointing to the logo on her shirt. He gave her the thumbs-up sign.

Oh, he was sneaky! She could see through him like cheap gauze. He had thrown her own motto back at her.

“Oh…Emily. Okay. I’ll do it,” she heard herself say. “For the whole week.”

“You are a darling!” Emily gathered her into another big hug. “Thank you so much.”

Thanks to Clint and his cute dimple and turquoise eyes, she’d just volunteered. To be a teacher. She didn’t know how to teach. She didn’t know anything about arts and crafts. She’d made a key chain out of braided boondoggle once, if that counted.

Emily walked to the door. “I’ll rearrange my schedule to give us some time to plan. Are you also willing to chaperone on the overnight campout and trail ride, too? If not, I understand. I’m already taking too much advantage of you.”

She looked at Clint. “I-I’ll do it.”

What was she doing? The words were just coming out of her mouth. Maybe she was just overtired. She’d never acted like this.

“Susan, do you know how to ride?” Emily asked.

“Not really, but I took some lessons when I was twelve.”