“Well, dammit!” one of the other guys said. “Me and Willie don’t stick around for supper.”
“You are awesome, Ms. Stella. Please don’t ever leave us. Elijah don’t know how to make anything but cowboy steak andfried potatoes. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m tired of steak,” Rex said as he piled his plate high.
“And we ain’t had dessert except for store-bought cookies and canned peaches,” Willie declared.
From Stella’s smile, Miles had high hopes that he had finally found a cook. When he bit into a chicken leg, a picture of Lula Ann popped into his head. A warm breeze wafted the scent of salty water across the warm sand that night. Like always, a few curly strands of hair had escaped her braids and were flying around her face. Her blue eyes danced with happiness at the sunset over the ocean, and Miles—no, he was Bubba that night—wished that he could go back to those hours and relive them.
Holly wrestled with doubts and indecision for the first time in her life for days after her mother was back in the office, and Holly was given the okay to go out into the field. After dreaming about Bubba Jones all night, she woke up in a hotel room in Pampa, Texas, on a Saturday morning. She threw on a pair of sweatpants and made her way down to the dining room for a cup of coffee and a bagel and let her mind drift back to the speed-dating event three weeks ago.
“It’s sure not anout of sight, out of mindsituation,” she muttered as she carried her food back up to her room. Checkout was at eleven o’clock, but she planned on being well on her way back home by that time. While she ate her breakfast, she checked all the numbers one more time, went through the notes she’d made to add to the contract, and then put her computer in the case and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt for the eleven-hour drive home.
This is one time that I really wish the company plane wasn’t in for repairs.She slung the computer case over one shoulder, her purse over the other, scanned the room where she had stayed for a week, and rolled her suitcase out into the hallway. She would be back in the office to present her report on Mondaymorning and off to Beaumont the next day to settle a dispute in that area.
She loaded her things in the back seat of a company truck and turned on the A/C as soon as she was behind the steering wheel. Fall had not pushed summer into the history books yet, and wouldn’t for several more weeks. Holly remembered reading that Texas had four seasons like all the other states. Summer, Scorch, Almost Christmas, and Christmas. This was still Scorch season, so it took a while for the A/C to chase the searing heat from inside the truck. She plugged her phone into the dash screen and started her playlist.
One of her mother’s favorites, “Last Date” by Floyd Cramer played first, and the words struck Holly’s heart so hard that she had to blink back tears. The words said that she had found love too late and was miserable, and she let the memory of that evening on the beach flash through her mind. She didn’t want her last date with Bubba to be the final time she saw him. She sure didn’t want to look back and regret that she might have let the love of her life slip through her fingers.
The music had just ended when her phone rang and the name on the screen said that Darlene was calling.
“Hello,” Holly said.
“I’m sending a screenshot of something I saw on Facebook this morning. If you want a cowboy, go after this one,” Darlene said. “He’s rich enough to buy a ranch near Katy, so he’s not just a hired hand.”
Holly unplugged her phone from Bluetooth and glanced down at the picture on the screen. Her breath caught, tightening her chest. She had to make herself inhale. A car honked, and the driver stuck his middle finger up at her.
“What’d I do?” she barked, and then realized she had swerved over into the wrong lane.
“What’s going on?” Darlene yelled. “Did you drop the phone again?”
“No, but … hold on a minute,” she said, and pulled over onto the side of the road. “Where did you get this?”
“An acquaintance, Maribelle, posted it on her page,” Darlene said. “I thought her brother was sexy and figured if you had the hots for a cowboy, this one would do better than a hired hand.”
Holly couldn’t take her eyes off the picture of Bubba Jones with a couple of little girls sitting on a horse with him leading it.
“Bubba told me that he worked on a ranch,” Holly said, “and that he had three nieces and a horse and a sister named Maribelle. I’ve looked for him on all the social media sites, but I couldn’t find him.”
“Are you serious?” Darlene’s tone was pure shock. “That isyourBubba Jones?”
“Yes, it is,” Holly answered.
Darlene giggled and then laughed out loud.
“What is so funny?” Holly asked.
“The caption reads:My brother, Miles Chapman, on the Lazy M, his new ranch near Katy, Texas.”
“What?” Holly gasped. “How … What … When?” she stammered.
“I’ve never met Maribelle in person, but I was doing research on women ranchers for a big article for my magazine, and we had several Zoom meetings. Looks likebothof you were using fake names. You werereallydating Miles of the Chapman empire, one of the biggest ranches in Texas.”
“Holy crap!” Holly gasped.
“I’m going into his social media pages right now,” Darlene said. “Are you already on the road?”
“Yes, I am, but that shocked me so badly that I’m pulled over on the side of the road right now.”
“From what I’m seeing, he really is, or at least was, a player. His picture is popping up all over the place with one woman or another. Fancy restaurants and clubs. I’m pretty sure you were wise to just walk away,” Darlene said. “Call me when you get home this evening. I’m on my way to a brunch interview with an up-and-coming country music star, but we need to talk more about this.”
