“We’re mighty glad you’re here.” Aunt Eileen gave her hand a firm squeeze. “Mike speaks highly of you.”
Warmth slid up Nicole’s neck. “I’ll do my best not to let you down.”
“You won’t.” The man behind the desk stood. Tall. Solid. Authority without theatrics. “I’m Morgan.”
So this was the big boss. He didn’t look mean. He looked steady. The kind of man who expected things done right and didn’t repeat himself twice.
“And that’s Quinn,” Morgan said, motioning to the brother leaning one hip against the desk.
Quinn gave her a single nod. No smile. Not unfriendly. Just evaluating.
She resisted the urge to square her shoulders like she was about to bat cleanup.
Ryan stepped forward and set the small box on the desk. “She had a little truck trouble outside Tucker’s Bluff.”
Morgan’s gaze shifted back to her. “Trouble?”
“That’s what I was telling you. Polly saw her pull into Ned’s from the Cut n Curl, she told Sister about the new girl in townleaving with Ryan, Sissy put two and two together and called me. I figured rather than wait for one of you to bring her home tonight, I’d just pop in and give her a ride myself.” The woman beamed at her nephew.
Morgan paused a moment before looking to her. “Anything serious?”
“Overheated. Need a new hose.” She winced slightly. “Ned says it should be ready some time tomorrow.”
Morgan nodded once. No irritation. No sigh. “Ned will take care of it.” As if he too could read her mind, he continued, “He’ll be fair.”
Nodding slowly, her gaze darted to all the people in the room. Her brother was right, if fair and calm was how this operation ran, then she was going to like working here. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier as planned.”
“No problem. You can walk the site this afternoon. Start fresh in the morning.” He spun around to face his brother. “Ryan, you take the lead. Show her where we’re at.”
Aunt Eileen stepped closer. “You two run along. I need to catch up on a few things and then we’ll head back to the ranch.”
Ranch? Ryan had said most of the men stayed in the bunk houses at the ranch. She had a slew of questions, but for now, she was going to take a look around and then worry about what came next.
Again, Ryan held the door for her as she crossed the threshold. The August heat hit like an oven door flung open. Oklahoma wasn’t exactly Antarctica, but this degree of heat was going to take some getting used to.
“Main Street isn’t very long. It’s a short walk to the carriage house.” Ryan fell into step beside her. “You can pretty much tell all that’s been updated so far.”
That was true. The Mercantile felt like stepping back in time to an episode ofLittle House on the Prairie, and yet, it felt sonew. Not an easy feat to accomplish. As they continued along the wooden sidewalk, Ryan explained all the changes and updates and future plans. She was duly impressed.
At the end of the street the old blacksmith and carriage building stood proud and tall, if a bit off kilter. The weathered exterior remained, but inside, temporary supports braced sagging beams. The roofline dipped in one corner. Nicole slowed instinctively, her carpenter’s eye taking over. The load-bearing wall in the rear had settled. The loft ladder angled slightly off square. If they stored hay up there—“That back corner’s going to torque under weight,” she said before she could stop herself. “If you’re using the loft for storage, it’ll shift unless you cross-brace it.”
Silence.
She turned slowly.
Morgan and Quinn had followed them and stood under the doorway of the wide entry, both watching. Quinn’s head tilted just a fraction. Ryan didn’t say anything.
Heat flushed up her neck again. “I mean, if you’re planning to store hay or spare wheels. The weight distribution—”
“That’s right,” Quinn said evenly.
Morgan’s mouth tipped almost—not quite—into a smile. “That’s the plan.”
Nicole nodded once. Whether she’d just added insult to injury or proved her worth she wasn’t quite sure, but none of the brothers seemed to react as if she’d overstepped.
From the far side of the building, a man strolled over, tool belt slung low. Confidence dialed a little too high for comfort. “Well now,” he drawled, letting his gaze take a slow trip from her boots upward. “Didn’t know we were adding scenery to the crew.”
Ah. If her brother’s descriptions were accurate, she’d wager that this must be the ever unpopular Jet.
