Chapter One
It didn’t take Carly Baron long to figure out coming home to the Roughneck just might have been the worst decision she had ever made.
Every minute she stayed on the ranch, every second spent in her family’s farm store, every moment anywhere near her dad pushed her closer to a confrontation with his ranch manager, the one man she never wanted to see again.
At the worktable in the back room of the Peach Pit, her thoughts shifted from the images she’d rather forget to the cartons she was filling with jars of preserves. She’d spent days out here at the store helping with new orders and most of this afternoon lending a hand to package them up. Finished with the final carton, she slapped the top of the box. “That ought to get these to their destination in good shape.”
“I can’t believe we’re finally done,” her older sister Savannah said. “I owe you, Carly. I’ve been so wrapped up in day-to-day business lately, I let the plans for expansion slide. That was a brilliant idea of yours for the targeted ad. This was my biggest order yet.”
“No big deal.” Carly shrugged. “Marketing 101. I need to get some use out of my degree. Selling Western wear wasn’t exactly part of my five-year plan when I got out of college. And I’m glad you stuck to your guns about the store.” The Peach Pit offered fresh produce and baked goods made from peaches and pecans grown on their farm, part of the Baron family’s ranch.
Turning the small roadside stand into a full-fledged store had been Savannah’s idea, one she had managed to implement and keep going despite resistance from their dad. Brock Baron never liked the thought of sinking capital into any endeavor he didn’t control himself. His focus was—and always would be—on their North Texas ranch and on Baron Energies, the oil company he ran from the executive offices in a downtown Dallas high-rise.
“Daddy’s got to see that this farm store’s a little gold mine,” she assured Savannah.
“Well, it’s nowhere near there, yet. But it has the potential. Thanks to the ads, we’ve now got almost more orders than we can handle.”
Carly put the tape dispenser back into its spot on the shelf and rested her hips against the worktable. “Speaking of orders, it’s probably time for me to head back to the house to get mine.”
Savannah shook her head. “And I’m sure Dad will have an entire list. You know we were all thrilled to have you come to visit a couple of months ago when Lizzie was in the hospital. But I’ll confess we were overjoyed when you decided to come back again to stay for a while.”
“I’ll bet.” Unwilling to think about her reasons for not returning to the ranch, Carly focused on what had finally brought her home—she was here to play nursemaid.
Seventy years old and as bullheaded as ever, Brock Baron also couldn’t accept that the time had come for him to give up rodeoing and just let his kids continue to carry on the family tradition. His last seniors’ event had left him with a broken leg and more aches and pains than he would ever admit to. Now, his enforced inaction was giving everyone else major headaches. “He was driving y’all nuts from the beginning, I’m sure.”
“Oh, that’s an understatement. Lucky for us, you’ve always been able to stand up to him.”
“Another understatement.” She’d be the first to acknowledge she had more than a little of their dad’s hardheadedness in her.
They both laughed.
“Really, though,” Savannah said. “How are you holding up?”
“Just fine. But I have to say, now that Daddy’s reached the point he can get around by himself in that wheelchair, it’s nerve-racking. I can never tell where and when he’ll turn up in the house.”
“Trust me, I know. It’s only the fact he can’t travel too far with it that’s keeping me safe here at the store.”
They smiled at each other.
Carly pushed away from the workbench, and Savannah reached out, surprising her with a hug. Her next-to-oldest sister had always been the quietest of the three girls in the Baron family.
“As much as I appreciate all your help this week,” Savannah said, “I’m even happier just to have your company.”
“Same here.” To her surprise, she meant it. With a family of six kids, four of Brock’s own and two stepsons,
