as it seemed on paper, since they’d known one another for such a short time. Alastair got Halle’s dilemma—he knew what it meant to have to shove down pain that would otherwise choke the last gasp of joy out of him.
“I’ve gone through similar trials. We’ve almost lost our business half a dozen times over the past decade. It’s so hard at times. If it weren’t for my family and the fact that Clyde Whiskey is a family business, I’d have hung it up on more than one occasion.” As he spoke he felt tremendous relief. As if he were the one unburdening to her. Maybe he was.
She nodded.
“It’s important to me to keep Bluewood Ranch running. I know that the tourist business isn’t going to keep it alive forever, but I haven’t figured out what else I want to do, what would be financially feasible, for the ranch.” She spoke with the weight of an executive CEO, which he found admirable, since Bluewood seemed like a relatively small operation. Halle took her responsibilities seriously, her experience with larger corporate concerns evident. It was another reason she was unlike any other person he’d ever known, and why he desperately wanted to know her better. So much better. Halle did nothing halfway. She was the epitome of “go big or go home.”
“Have you thought about attracting outside investors?” He thought he’d asked it innocently enough, not mentioning Jeremy outright.
“A pity handout? Never. The big money around these parts is the Colton family and I will never take a penny from them. Even in the wrongful death of my father, I never sought restitution. The only payback would have been to put Livia Colton behind bars. Since she’s dead, it’s a moot point.”
“Understood. But Jeremy’s not a Colton.”
“No, but he’s my friend, as is Adeline. I don’t want to mix friendship and business. Not when investing in the ranch is such a risk. For the moment.” A cloud ran across the sky, putting them in shadow. Halle’s face was guarded.
“And yet you allowed Jeremy to send me here. Is there something you aren’t telling me about the risk at Bluewood?”
“No, not at all.” She let out a soft sigh as she looked at the horizon. “I always planned to take over Bluewood from my dad. Looked forward to it. I knew that someday I’d be running it.”
“But?”
“It’s happened too quickly. I’ve had to learn my way around ranching and the tourism industry while still booking clients. I never feel as if I’m one hundred percent in either role—apprentice or ranch expert.”
“Do you have any staff to help out?” He’d only noticed one ranch hand tending to the barn and stables before they set out.
Halle laughed. “No, that takes time and money.” Neither of which she would have yet since her schedule was full taking people on tours like this one and pouring the revenue into repairs. “My full-time ranch hand, Charlie, hasn’t had a raise in two years. He’s loyal but he could decide today to move on and I’d have no recourse. And frankly, I wouldn’t blame him. I hire other ranch hands as needed.”
“I hear you on feeling as though you’re never doing enough. It’s part of being in business for yourself. That’s what I’ve learned, anyhow. I give you credit, Halle. You’re remarkable. I inherited a solid business and grew it. You’re taking something with a lot of challenges and turning it around. I wish I had as much courage as you.” He meant the words and could feel his heart beat with each one uttered. Halle had a way of forcing him to dig deeper, to find the best way possible to let her know how incredible she was. He’d been under his own work stress lately, but it didn’t compare to Halle’s. Except that they shared indefatigable work ethics. His work was never done, and with his current situation the anxiety of an unforeseen buyout made it so much worse. Nothing he could tell Halle, nothing he’d want anyone in Shadow Creek to know about, no matter how much he trusted them. Not yet. They’d know soon enough if he decided to not invest in tech in the Austin area. Because if he lacked the funds, he wouldn’t invest or ask others to. Alastair might be a billionaire but to him his word was worth more than any commodity, cash included.
They pulled the horses up to a wide leg that offered a breathtaking view of the countryside below and in front of them. They sat in companionable silence as they watched the sun start its descent. Streaks of peach, apricot and purple hues soared over the Texas sky. Even Buttercup and Buster were still, as if showing reverence for nature’s spectacle.
“Let’s dismount and set up camp. We’re over there, near the grove of willows.” She nodded toward their night camp. Halle’s eyes reflected the fiery shades of the beginning sunset. It didn’t escape Alastair that if they’d met anywhere else in time, or on earth, they might be together tonight in the best of ways.
But Halle had made her boundaries clear. This was solely a business excursion. He understood and in fact admired her for her professionalism. Even if it meant losing out on an opportunity to explore the undeniable attraction that arced between them. How could he consider campsite extracurriculars with Halle when his entire livelihood could be at risk?
The second day and evening went as the first. They spent the morning and afternoon meandering through the Texas countryside and the evening in front of the campfire sipping the wine Halle had brought. The first night Alastair had used the single-person tent Halle gave him and stayed dry under the brief rain showers they’d endured, but the next night he’d been granted his wish and slept under the stars. Nothing but an armadillo crossed near his bedroll, for which he was grateful. He’d had a hard time falling asleep, knowing Halle was in her own tent. He heard her soft rustles in her sleeping bag as she turned, imagined how warm and soft she’d feel against his body. Did she have as hard a time as he did in not crossing the unseen line between them? The hired tour guide–client line? He admired Halle’s dedication to duty and obvious professionalism, but sincerely hoped she’d ease up and consider allowing them to fully enjoy each other’s company.
By the third morning, Alastair expected he’d wake up ready to finish the journey. Instead, as he looked at Halle packing and loading up their horses, he felt a twinge of regret.
“Where to today?”
“Does it matter?” She faced him as they stood in between the horses. “You’ve had your head in your phone all morning. Is there some international news I need to be aware of?”
“No, nothing earth-shattering. And that’s not completely true. I’ve checked in to see what I can do to help.” More like he’d wanted to check on her, make sure she was safe. Aw, hell, he’d wanted to check her out, look at her up close, see if her body, her smile, still made him hard. And then he’d distracted himself with work, so that he didn’t push her too far too soon. Even though they only had one more night and two days together. Even business, bad business—it appeared his stocks were being gobbled up again, and he had no idea by whom—wasn’t enough to take his thoughts off Halle.
Halle grunted. Even that was sexy. “Don’t ever play poker, Alastair.”
He didn’t answer her. He couldn’t. Because as she spoke, he watched her expression and her body language, and realized they’d become ingrained in his memory. It wasn’t just the close quarters or long days together. It was Halle.
No, it’s you and Halle. He’d never felt so in tune with another person this early in a relationship before. And they weren’t in a relationship—she
