Page 46 of More Than This Land

Luke’s ears warmed. “I didn’t do it for the reputation.”

She set the bread aside. “That’s what made it worth doing.”

Around them, women worked and chatted and conspicuously directed their attention away from the two of them while totally paying attention to every word and gesture between him and Claire.

“You know, I have you to thank for helping Brody. That look you gave me sure put me in my place.”

“What look?”

“The one that told me to stop talking to myself and go stand at that fence.” Luke held her gaze. “It’s been teaching me to lead like I actually care about people.”

Color swept across her cheeks. She opened her mouth and closed it again. First time he’d ever seen her without a ready answer.

“I’ll let you finish.” He tipped his hat brim. “Good work today.”

He walked away with the fairgrounds settling into quiet around him and Caleb falling into step a beat later. His brother grinned like a fool but said nothing.

Chapter Twelve

Claire had presented financial reports to corporate boards, county commissioners, and a venture capital firm—all who had laughed at her projections before writing the check she’d asked for. Checking her reflection one last time before she entered a business meeting was second nature, but not the butterflies swarming her stomach.

Those were completely new and entirely Luke’s fault.

She flipped the visor shut, gathered her folders, and stepped out of the car.

Two trucks she recognized and one she didn’t sat outside the Calloway family home. Voices carried faintly from inside, the rise and fall almost familiar despite the short amount of time she’d known them. She stood on the porch longer than necessary before knocking.

Ruth opened the door with a beaming smile. “Come in, coffee’s fresh and Noah already ate two of the cinnamon rolls I made for after the meeting, so at least one of them is sweet today.”

“I heard my name.” Noah appeared in the hallway behind her.

“You heard your conscience.” Ruth ushered Claire inside with a hand between her shoulder blades.

The dining room table had been cleared and extended, chairs brought in from other rooms. Wade sat at the head with reading glasses on, studying the one-page summary Claire had sent ahead on Friday. Caleb stood near the window with his coffee. Graham held a cinnamon roll in one hand and a coffee cup in the other, while arguing with Noah about next year’s auction.

Claire set her bag on the table. “Are you sure today’s a good day?”

“Honey, this is every day. You get used to it.” Ruth patted her shoulder. “Make yourself at home.”

Home. Why did people keep calling Covenant Creek home? And why did her chest warm at the comforting word?

She noted the empty chair between Noah and the head of the table. It had been set slightly apart from the others. Luke’s chair.

Every thought and projection she’d practiced evaporated. She’d known she would have to talk to Luke and present in front of Luke today. But knowing and doing decided they didn’t like each other.

The front door opened, and Luke’s boots sounded against the hardwood.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

She locked her gaze on her laptop and strung the cable over to the TV so everyone would be able to see her presentation. The air shifted behind her, bringing a rush of hay and spring grass with Luke buried in the middle.

She inhaled deep without meaning to, her eyes fluttering closed. A change in the air pressure built an awareness that prickled along her spine. Luke sat, stretched his legs, and crossed his ankles.

“Everyone’s here.” Wade set down his summary. “Let’s hear what Claire’s built.”

She’d organized the presentation in three sections. Where they were, where they needed to go, how to get there. Forty-six slides that represented sixty-three hours of work, twelve interviews with vendors and community members, four rewritten drafts, and one very long night when she’d sat at her grandmother’s kitchen table at two in the morning understanding that this report was the best professional work she’d ever done.

She resisted the urge to adjust her shirt and stepped up to her laptop as the TV screen flickered to life with her first slide in place. “4C Ranch is profitable. That’s not the problem and it’s not changing.” She advanced past the opening slide. “The problem is that profitability has been treated as the primary goal rather than a byproduct of doing everything else well. These are different orientations, and they produce different ranches.”