Cade's Loss: California Cowboys 1 Page 5

  “I was. Ranked fifth in the world when I had my, uh, early retirement.” He chuckled and shook his head. “But before that, I was a college sophomore with crappy grades, a chip on my shoulder, and a sponsorship from a start-up surfboard manufacturer.”

  “Your parents didn’t want you to quit school.”

  “That would be a yes.” Cade closed his eyes, watching as the memories of that time played across the inside of his eyelids. “I remember the weekend I came home to announce to them that I wasn’t going to finish out the semester at University of Malibu and was joining the circuit instead. God, I was an arrogant little fuck.” He grinned at her, and she smiled back, filling the whole barn with sunshine, and a little piece of his soul too.

  “I really can’t believe my father didn’t just kick my ass all the way back to LA.”

  “What did they do?” Nina asked as the calf finished the bottle.

  “Well, my dad raged at me for a bit, but then he sat down at the kitchen table and said, ‘If you’re going to make adult decisions, then you’d better show me you can make adult plans,’ and he made me sit there for three hours and figure out how I was going to support myself. And in the end, the plan depended on winning three second-tier meets in the next twelve months and acquiring at least one more sponsorship.”

  “And did you?” Nina asked, eyes sparkling with an interest that made Cade’s chest swell with pride.

  “I did, actually. And the next year, I won my first world-class meet and gained two more sponsors, and the year after that, I ranked in the top twenty for the first time.”

  “You were at the height of your career when they died.”

  He was touched that she didn’t need to ask. She already got it. The tone of her voice said so.

  “Yeah. As I said, I was ranked fifth, and the O’Neill World Cup was coming up. I was favored to win, which would have popped me up to third in the world.” He shook his head, hardly believing it himself. It seemed like it was a lifetime ago, another person altogether.

  “Could you have found a way to go back?” she asked, petting the calf some more as it yanked the empty bottle out of Cade’s hand and shook it from side to side.

  “Maybe. After I got Vaughn through high school, I could have sold the ranch, put the proceeds in trust for him and Ty. I could have told Ty to get a job and sent Vaughn on to college.”

  “So why didn’t you?” She watched him carefully, and he gave her a weak smile.

  “Because they’d just lost both their parents, and the only thing they had left of them was this ranch. No matter how much I wanted to go back to my life, I couldn’t leave them anchorless, so I stayed. And Ty graduated and came home to live and work here with me, then Vaughn finished college and did the same a few years later. Neither of them wants to be anywhere but here. I think it makes them feel closer to Mom and Dad.”

  The calf lowed, and Cade patted it on the head before standing and brushing the straw off his jeans. He held out a hand to Nina and she clasped it as he pulled her to her feet. At the very last second, he resisted the urge to pull her farther—all the way into his arms. No, not only was his life committed to things that precluded a relationship, but her controlling their future organic certification was a no-fly zone for sure. He’d promised Ty he’d treat her professionally, and she’d requested that as well, so professional it would be.

  Then she smiled at him before climbing onto the bottom rung of the gate to reach over it and unhook the latch, which placed her nicely rounded ass front and center in his line of vision. And suddenly he remembered what that ass felt like in his hands. How he’d squeezed and kneaded the firm flesh while she wrapped her legs around him, her back pressed to the wall of her hotel room while his cock was deep inside her.

  Damn.

  Cade quickly adjusted himself before she hopped off the gate and swung it open.

  “Well, whether you wanted it or not, you have a beautiful ranch here,” she said as he walked out of the stall, trying to keep his eyes and hands off her.

  “Yeah?” Cade chuckled. “I guess…lots of acreage, lots of cows. But it does what it needs to. Without fancy organic certifications, I might add.”

  He watched as her lips twitched, and he knew right away he’d thrown a wrench in their tentative truce.

  She gave him a tight smile and turned to leave.

  “Nina…wait,” he said, stepping quickly to catch up with her. She stopped, turning to face him but with her arms crossed defensively.

  “I’m sorry, it’s not you. I’m just not convinced that Ty’s on the right track with this. He got the fancy business degree, I know, but I’ve been running this place for six years, and honestly, things work best when you stay the course. Sure there are ups and downs, but radical changes like these aren’t what made Big Sur Ranch what it is today.”

  She seemed to process that, then said, “And maybe that’s where you’re misunderstanding the move to organic. It’s not a radical change. You’ll still produce beef and eggs and milk. You’ll just do it with healthier, happier, more productive animals, and land that can sustain this production for centuries instead of only decades.”

  She was passionate about her work, Cade could see that, and it made something inside his chest ache, because he remembered what that was like, to love something so much that working hard at it wasn’t a chore but a joy.

  “Well, it looks like we’re going to find out,” he said, gesturing for her to go ahead of him out of the barn. “And in the meantime, I guess you’re going to know as much about my ranch as I do.”

  She turned to him then, fixing him with her solemn gaze. “The things I’ll learn about your ranch are only superficial, Cade. The indicators, we call them—how much pesticide you used on what acreage, where the feed you buy came from, or how much space you have per chicken. There is no way someone like me can understand the heart of your ranch. Only those of you who live it, work it, grew up on it, can know that. Because there is a rhythm to land, to animals, to a place, that you can’t possibly understand unless you live it, day after day, year after year. You know that heartbeat, whether you realize it or not, and organics won’t change it. It’s the combination of this place and you, Ty, Vaughn, everyone who works here that makes it what it is. And maybe someday you’ll stop for a minute and listen to it, because it might be able to tell you things you’ve never dreamed of.”

  Then she turned and walked back to the house, and Cade watched her go, wondering which was going to protest first, his head, his dick, or his heart.

  “So you grew up in Washington?” Lynn asked as Nina helped her slice tomatoes for a salad.

  “Yes, in apple country. My parents own an apple farm.”

  “So you know this life, then. It’s hard work, but I loved being raised here. I wasn’t sad that my brother took over the business so I didn’t have to, but there’s no better place to raise a child than in the country.”

  She paused, tossing some carrots into the salad bowl. “I’m sorry if Cade’s been giving you trouble about doing your job. He has a hard time making any changes around here. Maybe having his parents die like they did was all the change Cade could take for one lifetime.”

  Nina gave her a wry smile.

  “But tell me more about you. Where do you live when you’re not traveling to farms and ranches?”

  “The company is based in Seattle. I spend about half my time there and half of it on the road.”

  Lynn took the platter of tomatoes away and handed Nina a bunch of parsley to chop.

  “That’s a lot of time traveling for a young single woman.”

  Nina thought back to what her life had been eighteen months ago. Long days on the farm in Washington, working with the staff at Carver Farms, being outside in the fresh air, doing things with her hands that made the food and the community healthier. That familiar ache bloomed in her heart when she thought of everything she’d lost. But then she reminded herself that it had never been hers to begin with. Carver Farms bel
onged to Liam, it always had, and she’d been a fool to ever think he’d share it with her.

  She blinked the memories away and put on a watery smile. “Actually, I think it’s easier to do when you’re single,” she said. “I don’t have to worry about anything except my cat, and I’ve got a great neighbor who looks after her.”

  “Well, we need to get you off this ranch some while you’re here. You haven’t even been into town yet, have you?”

  Nina scraped a pile of parsley to one side and started on another small batch. “No, but I hear there’s a great coffee shop on Main Street.” She winked, and Lynn laughed.

  Her phone chimed from her back pocket, and Nina put the knife down to pull the device out and look at it.

  Dammit all to hell. It was like she’d conjured the devil himself.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said to Lynn.

  Outside, she swiped the screen and held the phone to her ear. “What do you want?”

  “Nice to talk to you too, babe.” Liam’s arrogance oozed through the cellular waves, and for the millionth time, she wondered how she could ever have thought he was someone she’d want to spend five minutes with, much less the rest of her life.

  She didn’t answer his patronizing remark, so he was forced to go on.

  “I’m looking for some customer records that you were in charge of. A regional chain of groceries we supply in Indiana—Watertown Markets.”

  Damn, he had a lot of nerve.

  “Why don’t you ask your secretary? You know, the one I caught you fucking two days before our wedding?”

  “Jesus, Nina, I’ve apologized over and over again. I know it was a dick move, and I’m sorry that it hurt you. But this is business, and I need to find these records for a routine audit we’re conducting.”

  “And you can’t ask your bookkeeper?”

  “He’s not around, and you always knew how the filing system works.”

  Oh no, he was not going to pull this crap. He had a damn secretary, he was intimately familiar with the woman, she could find his files for him—she’d had no trouble finding his dick after all. Nina paced the packed dirt of the parking area outside the back door of the ranch house.

  “Liam, don’t call me about this stuff. Ask your secretary to find it for you. That’s her job.”

  “C’mon, Nina, don’t be such a pain in my ass. I just need a file, I’m sure you can help me, right?”

  She sighed. “No. I’m actually paid to help clients of Certified International achieve organic certification. Carver Farms’ bookkeeping issues are not in my job description anywhere.”

  “Thanks for nothing, Nina. Truly.”

  She grinned even though he couldn’t see her. “Any time, Liam. Don’t call me, and I won’t call you.”

  She shoved the phone back in her jeans pocket and turned to go back inside, but she jumped and squeaked when she saw Cade leaning against the wall next to the back door.

  “How long have you been standing there?” she said, her face feeling much warmer than the weather warranted.

  He looked up at her from under his hat. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt that clung to his chest and abs, the sleeves stretched around his full biceps, and a pair of faded jeans that molded to his legs and hips like a second skin. His right arm had a tattoo that peeked out from under his sleeve, and she knew exactly what that inked skin felt like under her tongue. She wasn’t religious, but Lord help her, because she really had to quit thinking about her client naked.

  He flashed her a blindingly white smile, and her head spun.

  “Long enough to know you aren’t very happy with whoever that was.”

  She sighed and crossed her arms. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I live here, in case you hadn’t noticed, and I was on my way to my truck when I noticed you seemed agitated. I was stopping to make sure you were okay. Being a polite host and all.”

  “Well, I’m fine, thank you.” She marched up to the door, pausing as her hand fell on the latch and he was mere inches away from her, his spicy aftershave wafting toward her and wreaking havoc on her poor overwrought hormones.

  “Mmhm,” he murmured as she twisted the doorknob and tensed to push the door open.

  She swallowed but kept her eyes on the door handle and shoved her way into the kitchen as fast as her pounding heart would take her.

  And as she went back to chopping vegetables, she couldn’t decide which man was worse, the one she liked to hate, or the one she hated to like.

  Cade strode into the quarantine barn, neck stiff, face hot. Dammit, he needed a break. A way to vent, some sort of outlet. That woman was going to drive him insane in a hurry. When he’d overheard how upset she was on the phone, he couldn’t stop himself from going to her, wanting to reach through the phone and make whoever was on the other end apologize.

  And now all he could think about was who the mystery caller was. A boyfriend? A boss? Family? Dammit, it shouldn’t matter, but he hated the idea of someone treating her poorly. But then he’d treated her poorly several times since she’d arrived, so maybe that was hypocritical of him.

  Fuck.

  “Need me to hang up the punching bag like I used to when you boys were small?” Dirk asked from where he leaned against the railing next to the calf’s pen at the end of the room.

  Cade shook his head, expelling a big breath. “Rough day,” he grunted.

  Dirk walked toward him, his short legs bowed a touch from all the years of riding horses. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that pretty blonde who’s going through all our records and procedures, would it?”

  Cade leaned his elbows on the closest railing as Dirk reached him and adopted a parallel stance a few feet away.

  “We don’t need to be organic. But Ty went and signed the contract with her company before I could stop him. So, now we’re stuck.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it…” Dirk spat tobacco juice in a tin can that was wired to the railing nearby. Cade struggled to restrain the grin that wanted to break out on his face. Dirk had been chewing tobacco for as long as Cade could remember, and he’d been old for as long as Cade could remember as well. At some point in time, Cade’s father had given up on getting the ancient cowboy to stop his bad habits and had devised the spitting cans that were sprinkled throughout the compound on fences, railings, and a tree or two. It kept the tobacco juice off the barn floors, and as long as you didn’t look too closely inside one of those cans, or at Dirk’s teeth, you could get by.

  “What other way to look at it is there?” Cade asked.

  “That Ty’s come into his own, he’s a valuable partner to you, and maybe you can relax a bit. Maybe you did your job well, and now you can reap the benefits.”

  Cade shook his head even as his mind said maybe, his heart said never.

  “I know he’s a big boy. You don’t need to remind me. And yeah, he’s smart, I’m not arguing that. But that doesn’t mean he knows what’s best for this business. I run things the way Dad did for a reason—it works. That’s all there is to it. No reason to fix what isn’t broken.”

  Dirk spit again, then ran the back of his sleeve along his mouth. “Did I ever tell you about the first year your dad took the place over from your granddad?”

  Cade had been only four when his grandfather died, so he didn’t remember much about the man, and definitely nothing about the transfer of the business that had happened a couple of years before his grandfather’s death.

  “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard much about that.”

  Dirk chuckled. “Your granddad had that first stroke, and it was obvious to everyone that he wouldn’t be able to keep running things. So, your dad, who’d been in charge of calving and the dairy, took over the whole place.” Dirk cleared his throat and turned to lean his back against the railing. “First thing he did was to try to move from paper files to computer. He sent all the old files to a place in San Fran that scanned ’em all to pu
t ’em online, then he bought computers for the office and a server and started using all that fancy bookkeeping software. Hell, he even had me going to training sessions, and I’d only ever seen one computer up close in my life.”

  The old man chuckled at the memory, and Cade’s heart pinched, trying to imagine his father all those years ago, young and ambitious, itching to make improvements to the business.

  “Well, your granddad found out what was going on, and he hauled himself out of his sickbed one day, and he hobbled across the compound with his walking cane and straight into the office. He looked at your dad, and even though he’d had trouble speaking since the stroke, he took a deep breath and he said, ‘Stop trying to fix what isn’t broke.’ Then he shuffled on back to his bed and refused to see your dad for a week.”

  Cade shook his head. “God, Dad never told me that story.”

  “’Course not. He didn’t want you to think your grandfather was a controlling old son of a bitch who couldn’t handle innovation.”

  Cade blinked at him.

  “You heard me right,” Dirk murmured.

  “So you’re saying I’m granddad and Ty’s dad?”

  “I’m saying that this idea you have about the ranch always operating the same way is bullshit. There’ve been all sorts of changes here over the years. Some of them—like switching grain vendors last year—are easy and obvious. Others, like putting in computerized bookkeeping or moving to organic, aren’t. But that don’t make them any less worthy.”

  Cade nodded, not sure how to express what he felt.

  “I hear what you’re saying,” he said, his voice strained. “But I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to change it, even if it makes sense. I can’t explain it, but it doesn’t feel right to me, and I’ve been trusting my gut since the day they died. I’m not going to stop now.”

  Dirk put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “You did good, son. Your dad would be proud of you. But it’s time to let go. You don’t need to be afraid anymore. They’re safe. You’re safe. Let go.”