There was a silent pause. “I haven’t been able to reach her in the last hour. Would you be a doll and make sure she’s okay?”
No. He threw his head back and let out a sigh because his mother had the magic touch where he was concerned. She could wheedle him into doing anything. “I’ll do it this time. But Mom, I’m not her keeper. I’ve got a story to write and a ranch to manage.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. Tell her to call me, please.”
He tapped his head against the wall in frustration and grabbed his keys off the hook. This time he was driving. It was too damn hot to walk.
Her BMW was parked in front of the cabin, so why the hell wasn’t she answering her phone?
He jumped down from his cab, climbed the stairs, and tapped on her door. When she didn’t answer he banged harder. “Anyone home?”
Still no answer.
He went around the side of the cabin and found her sitting on the creek bank with her feet dangling in the water. She had on a ridiculous floppy hat and a pair of big red plastic sunglasses, reminding him of vintage photographs he’d seen of Hollywood starlets. He stopped to surreptitiously watch her and despite himself enjoyed the scenery. She looked like a cover shot forLifemagazine.
Sensing his presence, she flicked her head and caught him staring. She pushed the sunglasses down her nose and stared back without saying a word.
“My mom’s looking for you.” He hiked over to her spot and sank down beside her.
“Why? Because if there’s more bad news, I don’t want to know about it.”
“She didn’t say. Publicist-client privilege. But she’s worried about you.”
She turned her head and looked at him. “I think she’s the only one in the world who is.”
He couldn’t tell if she was telling the truth or just feeling sorry for herself. He didn’t have time for either but continued to sit there, anyway.
“You should call her.” He pried off his cowboy boots, slid off his socks, rolled his pant legs up, and dropped his feet into the creek. The water was colder than he expected, but it felt good in the heat.
She nodded but didn’t make a move to get her phone. “Who were the women in the red truck? I saw them drive toward the gate a little while ago.”
“Farmers. They want to lease some land from us to grow flowers and sell them from the ranch.”
“As part of the business plan Aubrey and Charlie have?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Flowers are nice, but they’re not going to turn this place into a destination.”
“Who said anything about turning Dry Creek Ranch into a destination?”
“I thought that was part of the plan.” She lifted one foot out of the water and Sawyer watched her wiggle her toes.
Her nails were painted bubblegum pink. A little cutesy for a woman who ran a multimillion-dollar enterprise, but for some reason he found them hot—and he wasn’t usually into feet.
“Not my plan,” he said. “I just want something that will bring in a steady income in addition to the cattle.”
“And you think flowers will do that?”
No, he didn’t. “Maybe. They just graduated from ag school and they need land. We’ve got it. It’s a win-win.”
Gina didn’t say anything, just continued to nod her head. But she was skeptical. Sawyer could see that.
“What would you do?” he asked her.
“It depends what your objective is. If you’re just looking for pocket change, a flower shop might do the trick. But according to what you told me, it sounds as if you need a steady flow of income. Significant income, right?”
He didn’t want to go into any more financial details about Dry Creek Ranch with her. Truthfully, he was tired of talking about money. Lord knows he and his cousins had been going around and around about it since the day the lawyers had read their grandfather’s will and trust.
