continued, “Hart’s parents, Frank and Fiona Sanders, hired me to craft a new marketing campaign that involved utilizing social media for their wedding train business. I moved here to do that. Once I finished that, I decided to go into business for myself. Which is why I bought the one hundred acre ranch in the valley between Sanders Mountain and Echols Mountain last summer, and spent the past few months—” and almost all her savings “—turning it into a corporate retreat.”
He regarded her with respect, one business person to another. His glance fell briefly to the rings on her left hand, before returning to her eyes. “How’s that going?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.
“My first event is a week from today.”
A corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re worried about the noise from the tree-cutting.”
Callie forged ahead. “I advertise a peaceful setting for important meetings. If I don’t deliver that right out of the gate...” She’d be out of business before she even got started.
Nash rubbed a hand across his jaw. He clearly hadn’t shaved since morning, and the evening shadow gave him a sexy, rough-hewn allure. “How many bookings do you have?”
Seeing him push his empty plate and bowl away, Callie got up to cut them all a piece of cake. “I have four events planned from December first to December eleventh.”
He thought a moment. “Are they day-only events?”
“Yes.” Callie resumed her seat. “From eight in the morning till around ten in the evening, although if my clients’ meetings are slow to wrap up, it could run slightly later than that.”
Nash smiled, watching Brian dig into his cake. “I see where you are coming from.” He leaned closer. “But here’s my problem. I have been contracted to deliver four thousand fresh-cut Christmas trees by December seventh. I have a temporary crew of eighteen, coming in to help with the cutting and bundling and delivery, for the next two weeks.” There was a long pause. “However, today, for a lot of reasons, we only managed to get two hundred trees ready to go. And that doesn’t even include possible inclement weather because we can’t cut down trees if it gets too wet. So for me to suspend operations for four whole days—”
“Would likely mean you wouldn’t meet your business goals.”
A quirk of his dark brow. “Unless...”
Trying not to think what his steady appraisal and deep voice did to her, Callie cleared her throat. “What?”
“I’m not sure it would work.” His sensual lips thinned. “But...if I can get the guys to work through the weekends, including Thanksgiving Day, with the promise of equivalent days off during your events...” He paused to look her in the eye. “Would you be willing to bring in Thanksgiving dinner for everyone—if I order it and foot the bill?”
Callie was willing to do whatever necessary to facilitate peace. “I’ll do better than that,” she offered, beyond thrilled that they had found a solution at long last. “I’ll cook. You-all can come to my ranch and have dinner there.”
* * *
“I HAVEN’T SEEN you this excited since the first time you cooked dinner for Seth.”
Callie turned to her twin sister. The six-months pregnant Maggie had come over with her husband, Hart, and their three-year-old son, Henry, to aid in the preparations. Currently, Hart had both Henry and her son, Brian, out riding tricycles on the sidewalk that led from the converted bunkhouse, where the meal was being prepared, to the ranch house, where she and Brian lived.
Callie carved the first of two big roasted turkeys. “The first time I cooked for Seth, it was for just him and me. Tonight, we’re having twenty-four people.” Hardly an intimate setting, even if her meal with Nash three evenings before sort of had been. “So if I seem a little overwrought or whatever, it’s because I’m using this evening as a trial run for my first hosted corporate retreat next week.”
It had nothing to do with the ruggedly handsome man heading up the team of cowboys turned temporary lumberjacks. Or the cozy dinner they’d shared. Or that this somehow carried all the emotional impact of a date. Because she wasn’t dating again for a good long time. If ever.
Maggie stirred the big kettle of gravy on the stove, clearly not buying it. “Hmm.”
“Plus, you know how I like to stay busy during the holidays. It just helps, not having time to think.” Because it was when she let herself ruminate on the events of the past that she felt her mood fall, and she couldn’t let that happen now—not when she had a child depending on her to provide the best holiday ever.
“Furthermore, just because you’re happily married and expecting another baby in the spring, doesn’t mean I need to be doing the same.” Callie finished slicing up the first turkey and started on the second.
Maggie brought out the cranberry relish and dinner rolls, and then carried them to the long plank tables. The scent of sage dressing and freshly mashed potatoes added to the delicious aromas in the air.
“I still think you’re selling yourself short,” Maggie told her. “You’re still young enough to marry again and have another baby or two.”
And Nash Echols was definitely sexy enough, Callie thought. If she were looking for a mate to father more children. Which she wasn’t. “The only things that concern me right now are my son and my business—”
Callie stopped at the sight of the gorgeous man in the kitchen door.
He was dressed pretty much as she’d expected. In dark jeans and a slate-gray shirt that molded his sinewy shoulders and chest and brought out the mesmerizing dark silver of his eyes. His black hair was freshly shampooed and combed, and as he strolled nearer, she caught the tantalizing scent of his aftershave lotion.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Nash Echols nodded at Maggie then turned back to Callie with a genial smile. “Hart said I should just come on in.”
Callie set down the carving knife and fork. Trying not to feel too excited, she wiped her hands on her apron. He was a guest...that was all. “Are the rest of the men here, too?”
His glance moved over her lazily. “They will be momentarily—if you’re ready for us.”
Callie fought back a reaction to all that testosterone. She jerked in a bolstering breath and returned his smile. “We are.”
The question was, was she ready to spend so much time with Nash Echols—even in a group? All he’d done was walk into the spacious bunkhouse and already her heart was going ballistic.
Fortunately, the crew was right behind him.
Clearly not one to simply stand around, Nash took over the rest of the carving, while Callie pulled out big stainless-steel trays of buttermilk mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole and green beans from the warming ovens. Maggie helped spoon hot food into serving dishes while her husband situated both little boys in booster seats. Their guests all pitched in to carry the food into the dining room.
One by one everyone found a seat. Callie took the head of the table. Nash, who had been busy filling water glasses, paused when it appeared there was only one chair left—at the other end of the long plank table. He lifted a quizzical brow her way. “Will
