Page 5 of Her Saltwater Cowboy

“That obvious?” He winked. “You were, but I understand. We want it to become their own, of course, but we will be handing it over in good shape first.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“And this is where you come in, Willow. I’d like you to plan a welcome party for Rafael and Bella for this Friday evening, and I want it to be done up right.”

“Absolutely.” Her mind raced, hoping she had both the street sense and the skills to cook foods fancier than pot pies and hearty meats, though maybe those would be enough. “About how many should I plan for?”

He puckered his mouth and looked up toward the heavens. “I’d say close to sixty.”

She swallowed. Maybe if she waited long enough, if she didn’t respond, he would correct himself.Oh, hahaha, excuse my mental fart, darlin’! I meant ten people, not sixty!

Instead, Ace added, “Give or take a handful.”

“So … we’ll be … gathering …”

“In the barn. Yes. I’ll have the hands pull tables out of storage and set ‘em up. You can come up with some kind of frou-frou for them, I take it?”

Feed sixty-plus people. Put frou-frou on at least eight tables, maybe ten. Sure-sure-sure. “Of course.” She put on a smile. “I’ll see what blooms are available in the garden and create some arrangements for the tables.”

“Wonderful.” He turned to go but stopped and snapped his fingers. “Recruit Chance to help you. Don’t let him give you any guff. I want to see him doing some of the heavy lifting. Understood?

“Yes, sir.”

Ace grinned. “I will see you at suppertime. Enjoy your morning.”

A half hour later, as she sat with her feet soaking in the creek down on the south end of the ranch, she fretted. Why hadn’t she asked Ace for a menu? For suggestions? For a list of foods Patsy might have served?

Because … she was afraid. If she asked those questions, it would make it seem like she wasn’t up for this task. She glanced at her phone and wrinkled her nose. In addition to Sunday mornings being for church, she’d also decided to spend as much time outdoors as possible. It stirred up her creativity, and, for a few brief hours, helped her think about something other than her worries.

Except today. Ace’s request had all but upended her peaceful morning.

“Hello, Sarge.”

Willow jerked a look up. Chance stood nearby, his face solemn, his hat tipped down.

“Chance?”

“Got any new orders for me today?”

Ah. He was still annoyed with her for asking him to clean up after himself. She quirked a smile at him, one to match the cocky expression he wore. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He stepped closer, his boots cracking a twig. “Let me guess. You want me to start washing my dishes in the creek.”

“No.”

“Doing the laundry out here on an old washboard.”

“Negative.”

He squatted down, his face level with hers, those kaleidoscope eyes trained on her. He gave off notes of tobacco and vanilla. “Then what is it, Miss Willow, that you’d like me to do today?”

She turned her head to focus on the creek, licking her lips to chase away her sudden dry mouth. “It’s not today that I need your help, Chance. But soon.”

“Oh?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Your father has asked me to throw a large party for the new foreman and his wife. It’s … this coming Friday night.”

An edge to Chance’s jaw appeared. He stood abruptly and kicked the dust from his boots.

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