Page 85 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

Walter asked a few questions about sourcing. Graham was concerned about markups. Weston offered to create a prototype for braided-leather key fobs. Cool. She hadn’t thought of something like that!

“One final question, Eryn,” Walter said at last.

She steeled herself. “Yes, sir?”

“Is management of this gift shop something you would personally like to take on?”

Her gaze flicked to Nadine. The older woman smiled. “I’ve never managed a store before, so I’m not sure I have the skills.”

“But would you like to?” Walter persisted.

Eryn took a deep breath. “Yes, sir, I’d like to try.”

He waved a hand. “It’s different here than retail elsewhere. You won’t have to worry about payroll, since the ranch accounting department will handle that.”

Graham nodded and keyed into his tablet.

“You also won’t need to be concerned about utility bills or details like that.” Walter held up a hand. “That’s not to say the gift shop shouldn’t be profitable, because it should. Every part of this operation needs to pay its own way plus at least a little extra.”

Maxwell covered his smirk with his hand as he turned away from his grandfather.

The old man glanced around the table. “Does anyone have any objections to offering Eryn the opportunity to run with her plan? Not that I care what you all think. I still hold the reins around here.” He gave a pointed look between his two sons.

Murmuring assent flowed from around the table.

He tapped a gavel lightly onto the table. Where had that thing come from, anyway? “Make a note of that in the records, Theodore.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Now, is there any other business we need to wrap up before our next meeting in April?”

By the shaking heads, that would be a no.

“Thank you.” He looked at Eryn. “I look forward to seeing this become reality. Feel free to contact me directly if you need anything specific. Otherwise, I expect to see the room stocked and ready for business by the first of May. Is that doable?”

“Yes, sir.” She’d heard that Memorial Day was the real kickoff for the resort, but she could have everything in place earlier. She was sure of it.

He gave a firm nod and closed his laptop. Others gathered up their notes as they chatted with each other.

Maxwell, who’d already turned off the presentation, stood and reached for her hand. “Come on. I’ve got something I want to show you.”

“You do?” What could it be? He wasn’t going to propose with a lead-in like that, was he?

They grabbed their jackets from near the front door, and he led her out to one of the little golf carts. They’d get parked when there was too much snow on the roads, but for now, they remained viable.

“Where are we going?”

“My place.”

In the nearly two months she’d lived at Sweet River, she hadn’t been inside Maxwell’s home. With the attraction zinging between them, it hadn’t seemed wise. Why now?

He pulled to a stop beside his duplex and ushered her inside. No surprise the place was perfectly tidy with a large desk holding three monitors taking up the place where the Ralstons’ unit had a kitchen table.

“I want to show you the quilt I found in that attic three years ago.”

“Okay?”

“Because I realized something interesting about it. Now, it might be a coincidence. It probably is, but maybe not.”

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