Hotel Ladd, page 10
Cal cocked his head. “What about his job?”
“He was fired for being late.”
“Being late? How late we talkin’? Did he not show up?”
Annie shrugged, the savory scent of eggs and bacon filling her nose as a waitress delivered plates the table beside them. Her stomach growled with envy as she took in the sight of food, complete with a side of steaming grits and plump biscuits. She pulled her attention away. “I don’t know. Like I said, Casey wasn’t in a talkative mood. All I managed to get from her was that he was fired for being late.”
“Hmm.”
“Didn’t sound right to me, either.”
A waitress appeared tableside. “Can I get you some coffee, juice?”
“I think Fran has got us covered,” Cal replied.
“Okay.” The young brunette practically bubbled with enthusiasm. Pencil and notepad drawn and ready she asked. “Do you know what you’d like for breakfast?”
“I’ll have two eggs, sunny side up with a stack of pancakes, bacon and a side of grits.”
Annie added, “I’ll have an order of scrambled eggs and grits.”
Fran swept in behind the girl, sliding cups and saucers onto the table with a smile. “You two have everything you need?”
“We do.”
Satisfied, Fran and the waitress trotted off.
Cal pursed his lips. “So they’re both back...”
“They are.”
“Well, maybe I can help Troy.” Cal eyed her cautiously. “If it’s okay with you, that is.”
“Help him how?”
“He works with horses and the man at the ranch said he was a real fine boy...” Cal paused, as though churning something through his brain. “I might be able to get him a position working my Daddy’s ranch—until he can figure out his next step, of course.”
Annie reached across the table. “Cal, you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
A slow smile creeping onto his lips, he took her hand and held it. About to protest further, she thought better about it. Cal was a good man. A kind man. But he was also smart. He knew Troy’s situation. If he felt it was a good match, who was she to disagree? “Thank you, Cal.” Three words she was beginning to say an awfully lot to this man. “That’s nice of you to offer.”
“Consider it done.” With a light squeeze, he released her hand and said, “Now on to a more positive note. I talked with the County Manager and he told me the permit would be no trouble. Two weeks at most.”
“Really?”
Cal set elbows to the table, crossing his arms. “So things are looking up.”
Annie felt it was true. Casey was home, the permit would be no trouble—if she decided to go with logging—though she hadn’t made a decision. The subject of selling was something she had yet to discuss with Casey. Jillian had given her time, but she wouldn’t wait forever.
Cal quieted, and she sensed he had something on his mind. “Cal?”
“Yes?”
“You look as though you have something important on your mind. Care to share?” she asked with an encouraging smile. Annie wanted him to share. She wanted him to feel comfortable enough with her to share whatever was on his mind. If she was being totally honest, she wanted a lot more than that. A zip of desire scurried through her. Peering at his clean-shaven skin, his soft brown hair, she wondered what it would be like to be with him. His appeal was easy and natural. Even his cologne was subtle. She savored a private smile. But then again, everything about Cal was subtle and mellow. Easy.
Yes, she decided. That’s what he was. Cal was easygoing and comfortable. The twinge low in her belly warned her she thought he was all that and more, but it wasn’t her place to make the first move. It was the man’s.
A smile worked its way onto his lips and his gaze softened. “Well, since you asked, our discussion has been weighing on my mind.”
“Our discussion?” And it hit her. His job offer. Annie’s heart fell. How could she have forgotten?
Cal slid the napkin-rolled silverware aside. “Have you given it any more thought?”
Which part, she wanted to ask—your new job or me moving?
“Annie?”
Bothered by the sudden plunge in his mood, she felt bad. Annie didn’t want to be the sour milk in his cereal. She wanted to be happy for him. It was clear he wanted the position as General Manager. But she and Delaney didn’t get along. If she and Cal ever did become serious, it could put a damper on their relations. A confusing predicament. Muddled. Delaney was leasing the land to Harris Hotels. She was practically married to the owner of the company, Nick Harris. Working for Delaney was the last thing Annie wanted to do. While Cal didn’t seem to mind the connection, she did. “I think the job is a great opportunity for you, Cal,” Annie said, injecting as much cheer into her voice as she could. “I’m just not sure where I fit in.”
“I’d like you to fit in with me.” At her confusion, he laughed, a flush tingeing his cheeks. “You know what I mean.”
Annie tensed. Drawing her coffee near, she was hit by the moist, sharp scent. “As in me work for the hotel, too?” she asked, swept up in visions of Delaney marching around, barking orders.
Cal grew serious. “Is it only me, Annie?”
“Only you what?”
“I thought we had something growing between us but you seem to be avoiding it.”
“I’m not.” She gulped. “We do.” Heart suddenly racing, she nodded. “We do.”
“But it can’t include Serenity Springs,” he concluded dully.
“I didn’t say that,” she objected quickly, then dropped her gaze to the cup and saucer in hand. She encircled it with her fingers, the white porcelain cup hot to the touch. Kinda like the hot rise at her neck.
“Okay, but are you feeling it?”
Annie didn’t know. She didn’t know what she was feeling other than she liked Cal. She liked him a lot and had been pondering a life with him. She knew he was interested but things were complicated. She had a past. She had issues. Cal didn’t understand what it was like to struggle. He’d grown up with money and land, prestige and position. The Fosters were a staple in the community, one tied to Delaney by their son Jack’s marriage, their granddaughter Felicity. Cal and Delaney were family. Annie didn’t feel it was fair to allow her relationship with Delaney to stand in the way, but honestly, that’s what if felt like at the moment.
Slowly, Annie lifted her head up and met his expectant gaze. Somehow, Delaney Wilkins had once again managed to insert herself into Annie’s business. Sort of. “It’s complicated, Cal. I have a history with Delaney, a history that isn’t wonderful.”
“This isn’t about Delaney. It’s about you and me.”
“Cal.”
“Annie.”
The busy restaurant melted away. The clamor of cooks in the kitchen, the rush of servers moving in and around tables, nothing existed but her and Cal and the mountain of emotion between them. He was asking her a question. He was asking if a future together was out of the question if he accepted Malcolm’s job offer. “I don’t want to stand in your way of a great opportunity, Cal, but it’s like I said, I’ve been needing a change and well...”
“You don’t want to limit yourself to Ladd Springs.”
When Cal said it, it made her sound like a bad person. Shallow. Almost as if she was dumping him for greener pastures. “I don’t want to limit myself at all.”
“I see.”
Annie shot a hand across the table but Cal didn’t yield. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you, I do.”
“Do you want me to move with you?”
The seat bench dropped out from beneath her. “What?”
“I would. If you want me to...”
“Cal.”
“Annie.”
She was stunned. She didn’t know what to say. Cal would forgo a fantastic job offer to be with her? Nerves sputtered and popped. It was the last thing she expected. It was more than she expected. Thoughts of the two of them together in a very serious way flooded her mind, her heart. She and Cal, together. But they’d never said the words, the kind of words that would warrant such a sacrifice. Annie pressed trembling fingers to the table.
“Let’s say we start with something more simple,” he suggested, easing her building angst. “I’d like you and Casey to join my family for Thanksgiving.”
“Thanksgiving dinner?”
“I think it’s time the family got to know you better.” He smiled. “We start around one, if that suits you.”
Amazed by Cal’s seamless switch from offering to move with her to the Foster family dinner, Annie’s mind was spinning. Was this a trial run for the two of them as a serious couple? Annie already knew the Fosters. His family was well-known throughout the community, the boys ranging in age from hers to several years older. She’d known them all her life, but going to their home with Cal for a holiday meal was something different. It was significant. Serious.
Annie glanced about the restaurant, the normality of hometown gossip against a backdrop of clinking utensils and suddenly felt foolish. Almost forty years old and she was nervous about going to a grown man’s home for supper. It was ridiculous! Insanity, though a fresh swarm of nerves pushing through her stomach and chest served to undercut the notion. “Sure,” she replied, mentally scrambling through her schedule and wondering if Casey would prove resistant.
“My folks will be pleased. They’ve been hearing an awful lot about you.”
Which meant Cal was talking an awful lot about her. Anticipation zipped her spine tight as a rod. “Yes, well...” she stammered, “that’s nice of you to say.”
“There’s a whole lot more I’d like to say.” He glanced around the diner. “But this isn’t the place.”
Chapter Eleven
Arms perched along the four-board fencing of his family’s ranch, Cal spit a peanut shell into a Solo cup as he watched Troy Parker work a horse. The midday sun soaked the landscape around them in warmth, fending off the worst of the chill. His cowboy hat kept the glare from his vision. Hills rose on all sides of his family’s property, the colors of fall vibrant, invigorating to his spirit. Fall had always been Cal’s favorite time of year because it signaled a time to slow down and cozy up. Thoughts of Annie came to mind, the two of them nestled around a fireplace, snuggling close. These days, thoughts of Annie permeated him, acting as a constant reminder of all he lost in Arizona and everything he wanted to regain in Tennessee.
Drawn back to Troy who stood in the middle of the round pen, a coiled rope in his hand, Cal watched with interest as the boy kept pace with the horse, forcing the animal to run the perimeter. Dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, he and the mahogany-colored horse stood out against the white four-board fencing. The boy’s attention never left the animal as he walked a tight circle in the center, the animal in constant motion along the fence. Troy was pushing him, creating a sense of leadership between horse and human. Troy spoke the entire time, making an occasional clicking sound from his mouth. With one ear locked down, Cal could tell the animal was listening to Troy’s every word, waiting for his next command. Troy made a quick-charge step, then backed off. The horse reacted, slowing his pace. Cal smiled when Troy increased his pace in the center of the pen, noting the horse did likewise. Another quick step and Troy stopped. The horse stopped, shaking its head with a loud neigh. When Troy didn’t move, the horse approached him warily, tentatively, walking all the way to Troy, who reached out and stroked his snout. “Atta boy,” he said calmly, patting the animal’s side. “Good job.” The horse licked his lips, a sure sign he understood.
Cal was impressed. This horse had come to the Fosters from another ranch to be re-trained and sold. The animal used to be a show jumper but about a year ago went sour. The horse had no more interest in being ridden, in fact, he’d bucked a rider off, causing his owner to take him out of commission. At the moment Troy was evaluating the animal’s personality, assessing how much work would be needed to get the horse back into shape. Cal believed the animal simply needed someone to trust, and from his vantage point Troy was the right man for the job. “He’s a smart one,” Cal called out.
Troy glanced over and nodded. “Sure is,” he replied, then began the process again.
“Cal!”
At the frantic call, Cal pushed from the fence and started jogging in the direction of the voice. Coming from the stables, it belonged to a senior stable hand known around the ranch as “Old Joe.” “What’s going on?” Cal shouted.
“Ginger is having a baby!”
He tipped his hat back. “She’s foaling?”
“Right this minute!” The elder man eagerly waved him over. “Come see.”
Without thinking, Cal turned and called out to Troy. “Troy, come see! One of the mares is foaling!” Watching a foal come into the world was one of the most beautiful sights to behold. His daddy used to include the boys in every birth, teaching them the ways of the ranch, and it seemed natural to include Troy.
Troy hesitated, his expression gripped by the confusion of an employee who’d just been asked to perform a duty outside his job description. “C’mon, son. We drop everything around here for a new baby!”
Erupting into a wide grin, Troy gave the animal a vigorous stroke, then adjusted his hat and ran over. Cal clapped him on the back. “Have you ever seen a foal being born?”
“Yes sir. My daddy had Travis and me practice whenever possible.”
“He’s a good man, your father. It’s one of the most incredible events I’ve ever witnessed.” Cal managed every foaling but missed the birth of his own daughter. A fact that ate at him to this day. “Let’s go.”
“Yes, sir,” Troy replied gladly and followed Cal back to the stables.
A walnut brown mare paced the center corridor, taking her time as she walked back and forth, swishing her bundled tail side to side. Cal could see the first bubble of white placenta poking free from her rear. He tossed his peanut cup into a barrel-styled garbage can and looked to Old Joe.
“Her water broke and she’s squirting milk,” Old Joe informed Cal and Troy as they approached.
“She’s ready,” Cal agreed. As they neared, he could hear the mare’s mild grunts. The rise of hay was strong against his nostrils, along with the scent of leather and horse. “C’mon, Ginger. Slow and easy wins the race.”
“She’s a beauty,” Troy said, admiration shining in his eyes.
“One of our finest Arabians,” Cal replied.
“We have Quarter Horses,” Troy said, then pointed to her tail bound by hot pink tape. “We wrap the tails before birth, too.”
“It’s a practice we began years ago. Once we began breeding for other folks, my daddy insisted.”
“The pink is a nice touch,” Troy smirked.
Cal winked. “That’s my momma’s input. No mare should be foaling in anything but pink. Not on her ranch.”
Troy chuckled and watched with Cal as the Foster’s senior stable hand guided Ginger into an open, spacious pen. The horse went without protest. Circling, she dropped gently to her side. Panting, she undulated, then rolled onto her back, kicking her legs up and out like a dog scratching its back. She thrashed her head back and forth across the hay-covered floor, trying to work her baby free. Powerful rear muscles contracted, relaxed, and a milky sac emerged. A slender hoof was visible through the sheer pliable membrane. “Lookee there!” exclaimed the stable hand. “She’s a coming through!”
Excitement swept through Cal as he watched the placenta spit out in fits of air and liquid. The mare continued to grunt as the three men stood idle. In awe, really. The birth of a foal was an incredibly normal act of nature, yet it never ceased to amaze him, affecting him in a way words could not describe. He imagined the same would have been true had he been there for Emily’s birth instead of passed out at home.
Pushing up to her feet, the mare paced again, this time with two hooves sticking out from her backside. Cal figured she must be in serious discomfort. Troy must have been thinking the same thing, whispering encouragement to the mare as she walked and pushed. “C’mon, girl. That’s it. You’re doing fine, really fine.”
Cal smiled. Men were usually out of their element when it came to things like birth, but not Troy. He was up close and personal and seemed thoroughly intrigued. He was a horseman, Cal mused. It was in his blood.
Back down the mare went, rolling and moaning. “She’s trying to get it into position,” Old Joe observed.
Cal had seen this before. Some births came quicker than others, and a mare would do what she could to help her baby along. Sometimes a man could lend a helping hand by pulling on the hooves, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. Cal preferred to let nature take its course.
“She looks like she’s struggling,” Troy noted, vigilance entering his gaze.
“This here’s her first,” Old Joe told him.
Troy nodded, but remained intent on the mare and her progress.
It looked to Cal like Troy was analyzing the situation, summing up what needed to be done and when. So far, Cal liked what he saw in the young man.
Old Joe pointed to the emerging foal. “She’s a good size.”
Buttocks contracting, Ginger’s enormous belly rose and fell with each effort. Her tail twitched and she moaned louder. Troy didn’t say anything, only watched as the sac tore open revealing a slick black hoof. Resting, the mare paused her efforts. Concern rippled across Troy’s features.
“Should I give her a hand?” Old Joe asked.
Cal stood by, waiting for the horse’s lead. “Give her a minute.” He looked to Troy. “What do you think?”
Without looking away from the horse, he nodded. “I’d give her a minute.”
Satisfied they were of like mind, the men watched the animal lying on her side, veins bulging on the underside of her belly. She grunted, pushed, paused, pushed and paused. Fluid gushed out over the hay covered floor. Sticks of hay adhered to the creamy sac. When nothing significant changed, Cal gave the go ahead. “Give her a hand.”
