Twins For The Rancher. Trish Milburn

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Twins For The Rancher - Trish  Milburn

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      “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I have limited time to get a lot done, and I’m running behind.” Which hadn’t been helped by all the interruptions. Well-meaning ones, but interruptions nonetheless.

      “No need to explain. I should have called ahead and made an appointment to meet with you.”

      “Hard to do when you don’t know the number.”

      “True.” He smiled, and wow, did he have a nice smile. He ought to be able to sell beef to half of Texas on that smile alone.

      But she also knew better than to trust smiles alone. Phil had an attractive smile, too—until you realized it belonged to a snake.

      “The Rocking Horse Ranch has been in my family nearly a century. Everyone who works there is family, and we have a history of producing high-quality beef products—steaks, ground, ribs.”

      As she listened to Adam’s sales pitch, she grabbed one of the tables she aimed to get rid of and started dragging it toward the front wall.

      “Here, let me help you with that.” Adam lifted the opposite side of the table and together they carried it away from the middle of the large dining room.

      Before she could voice an objection to his continuing to help her with manual labor, Adam launched back into his spiel.

      “I’m sure you already know that diners are more and more interested in where their food comes from, and with our products you’d be able to tell them it’s from a few miles down the road, raised by a family that’s been part of Blue Falls for a hundred years.”

      She had to give him credit—he certainly was passionate about his family’s business. Considering her own strong ties to family and the hard work to share her love of food with others, she admired that passion. Still, when it came down to the decision-making, it would have to be based on the price and quality of the beef. Adam Hartley could have all the charm and belief in his products the world had to offer, but it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t deem his ranch’s beef good enough to associate with her own brand.

      “Sounds as if you have a fine operation,” she said. “If you’ll leave your card, I’ll call for a sample when I’m closer to making those types of decisions.”

      After a slight hesitation, he nodded and retrieved a card from his wallet, then handed it over. The ranch brand was like none she’d ever seen before, a little rocking horse like a child might use. She made a mental note to provide rocking horses for the girls when they were old enough.

      “Interesting brand.”

      “With an interesting story behind it,” he said as he helped her move another table.

      “Well, don’t keep me hanging.”

      “Shortly after my great-grandfather bought the first part of the ranch acreage, he found out my great-grandmother was pregnant with their first child, my grandfather. He used part of a tree he cleared where the house was to be built to make a rocking horse for the baby. And he made the first sign with the name of the ranch using what was left.”

      “That’s sweet.”

      “Yeah, my mom gets teary every time she tells that story. Oh, by the way, I was informed by my sister to tell you that our mom is a big fan of your show.”

      “I appreciate that. Are you a fan?” For some reason, she couldn’t resist the teasing question.

      He placed one of the old chairs next to the growing collection of furniture she needed to get out of the way. “I’m just going to be honest here and say that before today I didn’t even know who you were.”

      She caught the look of concern on his face, as if maybe he’d just shot a giant hole in his chances to land her business. Even seeing that, she couldn’t help but laugh.

      “I can’t say that I’m surprised. I wouldn’t peg you as the main demographic.”

      “If it helps, I do like baked goods. I don’t think I’ve ever said no to pie, cake or cookies.”

      She pointed at him. “And that’s what keeps me in business, the country’s collective sweet tooth.”

      Without direction, Adam rolled an old salad bar toward the rest of the castoffs. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but if you’re known for baking—”

      “Why a barbecue restaurant?”

      “Yeah.”

      “My grandfather has won more blue ribbons than I can count in barbecue competitions. I want to feature his recipe. He’s actually the reason I’m here.” She gestured toward their surroundings, glancing up at the high ceiling with the log beams that she imagined gleaming after a good cleaning and polish. “He grew up in Blue Falls.”

      “I wonder if my parents know him.”

      “Probably not. He left about fifty years ago.”

      “Has he moved back?”

      She shook her head. Not unless you counted the fact he was camped out at their hotel babysitting while she worked.

      “No, and yet he somehow convinced me that this was the place to launch the next phase of my business.”

      “Blue Falls is a good place to settle.”

      “I won’t be living here, either,” she said. “I’ll just be here to get this place up and running, then I’ll leave it in a manager’s hands and go back home.”

      “Which is where?”

      That felt a little too personal to reveal to a man she’d just met.

      “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

      Settling for a compromise answer, she said, “North Texas.”

      Lauren realized when they picked up the next table to move it that it was the last one. “So, have you been helping me haul all this stuff in the hopes I’ll award you a contract?”

      “No, ma’am. Just being neighborly.”

      He seemed genuine with that answer, but she wasn’t sure she totally bought it. Or maybe she was just extra cautious now, having been so recently burned in a very public way. She wondered if Adam Hartley knew about that. She found herself hoping not, and hated the idea that her recent troubles were what sprang to mind when people saw her now. Maybe if he hadn’t known who she was before today, he didn’t know all the ugly backstory, either. That would be refreshing.

      “Okay, neighbor, I could use a suggestion of who to call to make all this stuff disappear.” She pointed toward the pile of furniture they’d moved. It was still serviceable but not at all like what she had in mind for her restaurant.

      “Actually, I know someone who would probably love to take if off your hands at no cost. She repurposes things other people don’t want anymore.”

      “Sounds great.”

      He pulled out his phone

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