Читать книгу His Last Rodeo - Claire McEwen - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTYLER LOOKED AT the bar staff he’d inherited, trying to ignore the dismay prickling beneath his skin. His employees sprawled in the circle of chairs he’d set up in the middle of the bar. And none of them looked very happy to be at this meeting.
The Dusty Saddle didn’t look great, either. It was even more drab than usual in the bright morning light. The stained, scuffed plank floor probably hadn’t been refinished since the bar was built in the early 1900s. Stuffing poked out of ripped brown vinyl booths. Tabletops were covered in drink rings that couldn’t be scrubbed off anymore.
This Monday-morning staff meeting had seemed like a way better idea when Tyler had planned it. He’d seen it so rosy in his mind’s eye. Everyone chatting happily, excited for his first day as owner of the Dusty Saddle.
But there was no excitement. Quite the opposite. Here he was, trying to give an inspirational speech, but he wasn’t sure if anyone had heard a single word.
One of the bouncers, Ernie, a hefty brick of a guy, was playing some game on his phone. Loomis, his fellow bouncer, had one leg slung over the other and was studying the sole of his steel-toed boot. Lila, one of the bartenders, was sleepily twisting a lock of her long red hair, clearly not excited about being at work this early. Her bartending colleagues didn’t look any more enthusiastic. Maybe they were here just to pick up the fifty bucks Tyler had bribed them with to get them into the bar first thing on a Monday.
Tyler tried not to look at Kit, but his eyes kept straying her way. She barely seemed to see him, her face a mask of studied boredom that did little to hide the anger in her eyes.
She was still pissed at him. Well deserved after his drunken visit a week ago. He’d stopped by a couple times this past week in hopes of catching her alone to apologize. But she’d avoided him each time, disappearing to the stockroom or announcing, suddenly, that it was time for her break. And since it was Chris’s last week, Tyler hadn’t wanted to stop by the bar too often. The guy surely needed time to say goodbye to his business and his staff without the new owner breathing down his neck.
Tyler tried again to inspire some enthusiasm. “Picture the bar expanded.” He pointed north. “This whole wall will be moved out, doubling our seating capacity. Then we’ll build a second bar in the new addition—an area especially for sports fans. That way, we can give the High Country a run for their money on weekdays.”
Lila’s eyes rolled in Kit’s direction. Kit’s answering shrug was the embodiment of whatever.
Yeah, he was really firing them up. Any more enthusiasm and they’d be asleep.
Ernie raised a beefy hand and Tyler nodded to him, relieved that finally someone cared.
“Does this mean we’ll get more hours?”
Hallelujah for something he could say yes to. “Once we’ve renovated and we’re up and running, you’ll definitely have more hours if you want them.”
Mario, one of the part-time bartenders, yawned. So much for wowing them. Tyler’s gaze went to Kit with a will of its own. She was staring somewhere over his shoulder. He followed the direction of her gaze. She was watching the clock.
This chat wasn’t working, but he didn’t know what else to do except keep going. “We’ll have a lot to offer once the renovations are complete. I’d like to add a restaurant with an outdoor barbecue area. And a stage and a dance floor. I’m going to restore the barn and build a small arena. I’m hoping to start a rodeo school. Any questions?”
Of course not.
Then a hand came up. Not one he wanted to choose. “Kit?”
She gave him a smile laced with ice. “Are you gonna give us a raise?”
Damn it. Trust her to ask what he couldn’t answer. “I’m still going over the figures. I’ll know more after I draw up cost projections, revenue estimates, stuff like that.”
She gave him a cool look. “It just seems like if you have all this money to transform the Dusty Saddle into a one-stop cowboy experience, you must have enough to compensate the people who’ll be doing all the work.”
Ouch. Her cutting summation of his plans stung. She was walking a thin line, but he’d be cool about it, for now. “I’ll work hard, too. And I won’t pay myself until we’re profitable. I’ll certainly consider raises once we start making some money.”
There was a slight stirring among the staff, an exhaled breath of relief. It must have been the right thing to say. Or as close to right as he’d gotten so far. But it was clear he was missing something here. Some chance. He could feel it as sure he knew a bull would shift left or right.
His palms were damp. He wasn’t used to talking like this, trying to inspire others. Put him on a bull and he’d inspire. With actions. With stamina. But with words, he was out of his league. “Look, you all probably know I’ve spent the past few years hitting the rodeos. But I also spent a lot of time with corporate sponsors, doing promotion, stuff like that.”
“‘Me and my Wranglers,’” Lila purred. “Yeah, we saw the commercial.”
Heat crept from his collar to his jaw. In the commercial Lila referred to, the camera had been mainly focused on his ass. “I may not have experience owning a bar. But I learned some stuff about business along the way. I’m no expert, but I have a feeling about this place.”
He paused, gratified to see a few nods from the bouncers and Mario. “I’ve thought my plans through and I know I can make this place profitable. I just need good people around me to do it. I need you, if you’ll give it a try with me.”
“What if we like the Saddle the way it is?” Kit leaned forward, her elbows on the table and, oh boy, her neckline had slid down, treating him to an eyeful of what he should not be looking at. When he raised his glance he saw the fierce emotion in her eyes. She wasn’t giving him a hard time for the heck of it. For some reason, she loved this place, ripped vinyl, filthy floor and all.
“There’s history here. I get that. But let’s be honest, most customers don’t appreciate it. The bar is empty most weeknights.”
“It’s a small town. No one’s out drinking,” Kit shot back.
“It’s a growing town, and the High Country is packed. Look, if we can’t bring more customers in, this place will go under. Chris knew it. He told me himself when he sold it to me. And Kit, weren’t you just asking me about raises?”
She looked at him sharply and he knew he’d hit a nerve.
“You can’t have it both ways,” he said. “You can’t keep the Dusty Saddle the way it’s always been and expect a living wage from it. So we’re going to need to make changes.”
“Don’t get all sentimental, Kit.” Loomis finally looked up from his boot. “More money sounds pretty good to me.”
“Amen,” Ernie added, and Tyler saw several other heads nod around the room.
At least he’d gotten one thing right. He didn’t need everyone on board—and clearly Kit wasn’t signing up for the Tyler Ellis fan club anytime soon—but he needed some of the staff with him. He looked at Kit. “Not all change is bad. It might even be fun.”
“Depends on your idea of fun,” Kit murmured, ostensibly to Lila but loud enough for him to hear, too.
“Any questions?” Tyler deliberately looked over Kit’s head.
“You gonna change the name?” Tim, a bartender, glanced around. “The Dusty Saddle doesn’t really fit what you’re describing.”
“I hadn’t thought about it yet.”
“How about the Last Rodeo?” Kit asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently when he glared at her. “I mean, since you just had yours, right?”
“Ouch,” Mario murmured.
“Isn’t that a little depressing?” Tim nudged Kit with his elbow. “Not sure we’ll get people in the party spirit with that one.”
“I kind of like it,” Lila countered. “It’s mysterious. Like Tyler’s rodeo days are over and so what comes next?”
“Dance floors and big-screen TVs, apparently,” Kit tossed in. “Not very mysterious, really.”
“Let’s not worry about it now.” A weariness crawled up Tyler’s spine, threatening to bring on the headaches he sometimes got from too many falls in the arena. “Plenty of time to come up with a name. For now, you’ll all pull schedules similar to what you’ve been doing. If you want to change that, let me know.”
He pulled his new business cards—hot off the press—out of his pocket. An old saddle in faded sepia. His name and contact information in bold letters. He handed one to everyone, feeling inexplicably like a tool. “Call me with any questions or concerns. The schedule will be posted Tuesday, like always.”
“We post it on Monday,” Kit corrected.
He glanced her way to see if she was messing with him again. Her slight smile was unreadable. “Chris said Tuesdays.”
“Chris hasn’t done it in five years.”
“Oh.” This was news to him. But there were bound to be surprises. “Okay, so who makes the schedule?”
“Kit,” Lila answered. “She does everything around here.”
Tyler looked at Kit but she regarded him calmly, not offering any confirmation.
“Well, Kit, maybe you and I could meet and you could bring me up to speed.”
“I’m not working today,” she said.
“Okay, so when are you working?”
“I’m not sure, since no one made the schedule.” At Tyler’s exasperated look, she opened her hands in a gesture of innocence. “Hey, I didn’t know. I thought, as the new owner, you might want to take it on.”
Tyler looked around, feeling a twinge of desperation. “So no one knows when they’re working this week?”
Ten heads shook no.
“Right. Call me later today and I’ll have your hours. Anyone want to work today?”
Ten pairs of eyes exchanged furtive you-do-it glances. He got it. Once a day off was promised, it was hard to let it go. Especially since they’d all given up their morning for a staff meeting.
He’d never thought his first day on the job would be so rocky. Maybe his ego was a little too big. In the arenas, on the road, he was someone special. People wanted his autograph, a handshake, a piece of his attention. But this meeting reminded him that here in Benson, he was still the same screw-up he’d always been.
“Thanks for coming,” he said. “Make sure to put this hour on your time card.” The last sentence was lost in the sound of scraping chairs. It was the most enthusiasm he’d seen so far from the employees. And it all centered on getting the hell out of there.
Well, at least today would give him some time here. He could practice making a few drinks. Maybe he should have considered, before he bought a bar, that he had no idea how to bartend.
He walked to the office and stared at the blank wipe-off calendar titled Schedule. How did he figure out who went where? The lines seemed to bend and blur.
“Welcome to the world of bar ownership.” Kit leaned against the door frame, the position accentuating all the curves defined by her tight black dress.
“Your type of welcome sucks, to be honest. If you want to work for me, don’t act like that in a staff meeting again.”
“Or what? You’ll keep up the family tradition and fire me?”
He tried to process her words. “What are you talking about?”
She straightened, her arms crossed, outraged, across her chest. “Oh, didn’t you know? Your dad fired mine. After my father spent his life working on your ranch.”
Tyler knew he should say something, but shock wiped out any response. Kit’s dad had been Tyler’s mentor. Garth had spent countless hours teaching Tyler how to ride bulls. “When did this happen?”
“A few months ago,” Kit bit the words out, and he could see the emotion she was holding back, in her too-bright eyes and the pink flush staining her cheekbones.
“I had no idea. I haven’t spent a lot of time on the ranch since I came home. I’ve rented a house in town.” It had been a relief to move off the ranch a few days ago. An even bigger relief, now that he had this piece of news to digest. His dad had fired Garth? “Is your dad okay? Does he need anything?”
Pride closed down Kit’s face. He could see it in the tilt of her chin, the press of her full lips into a rigid line. “He’s fine.” But it was clear that she was lying.
Tyler could picture exactly what had happened. His cold, logical dad doing the calculations and deciding that Garth Hayes was no longer an economically sound employee.
A sick feeling melted into Tyler’s stomach. Garth had toiled on Sierra Canyon Ranch from dawn until past dusk six days a week for as long as Tyler could remember.
“I tried to talk to your dad last week. My dad borrowed against his pension fund, so he’s broke now.” Kit’s voice had tears in it, though she’d never let them show. “I asked your dad to forgive the debt. But he wouldn’t bend.”
“Why did your dad need that loan?” Tyler put out a hand to stop her. “Never mind. It’s not my business.”
“It’s okay.” Kit sighed. “Ask anyone in town and they’ll tell you. When I turned eighteen, my mom asked my dad for a divorce. Seems she’d always hated it here. She left and broke my dad’s heart.”
“I had no idea.” Kit’s mom had never come around the ranch, but he’d see her in town and at school events. She’d worn long, flowing skirts and a remote expression on her face.
“My dad still loved my mom. He wanted her to be happy. So he took out that loan to help her start a new life and a business. She owns a groovy crystal shop in a little town on the Oregon coast.”
“No kidding.” Tyler tried to read her mood.
“She even changed her name. She’s Starflower Kindness now, owner of Kindness Crystals and Healing. You can look her up. She has an online store, too.”
Kit was tough, as always, shrugging like she didn’t care. From the tremor in her husky voice, he’d bet she cared a lot.
“Have you seen her?”
“Once or twice. But not lately, because she never paid Dad back. And now he’s struggling to get by. I have trouble forgiving her for that.”
“Makes sense.” It was tragic that her family had fallen apart. Doubly tragic that her dad had sacrificed so much to make sure the woman who’d left him would be okay. “I’ll speak to my father. I’ll try to make this right. Your dad deserves a hell of a lot better after all he did for my family. And for me.”
She nodded, and he realized it wouldn’t help to say more now. He’d talk to his dad, and if by some miracle he got anywhere, he could share that with Kit. Anything else would be empty promises. But they had something else between them that needed to be resolved.
“I can see why you’re upset at my dad. But I don’t want it to cause trouble with the staff. If you’re pissed at me, tell me straight.”
She didn’t answer right away, but he saw a twist of guilt in her guarded expression. Finally she sighed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so rude in the meeting. It won’t happen again.”
“Okay. Good.” He wasn’t sure what else to say now that he’d finished laying down the law. But he still had his own guilt to assuage. “The other night, when I sprang the news on you about buying the bar... I should never have shown up here drunk. And I have a feeling I said some other things I shouldn’t have.”
She smiled faintly. “You did. But if I had a problem dealing with drunks, I’d have quit this job a long time ago.”
He nodded at the truth there. “Seems to me you’re kind of an expert. You had me on the ground faster than a pissed-off bull.”
“It comes in handy.”
“I could use a great bartender like you. I hope you’ll stick around.”
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded, as if considering his invitation. “Do you want help with the schedule?”
He didn’t recognize all the new hard edges on her, but this was more like the Kit he remembered from childhood. Getting mad, forgiving easily, then moving on. “Sure.”
She tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder. “Okay, so...move over.” She walked into the tiny office, brushing up against him to get by. She paused, so close to him that her full breasts pressed into his torso. “Hey, boss? Maybe enlarge this office as part of your remodel. Because this isn’t going to work.”
That was for damn sure. He could barely breathe. His brain had dropped below his belt, making it crystal clear that she was definitely not the same childhood friend he’d known. “The schedule?”
Her derisive smile was back, letting him know she saw the effect she had on him. “Scoot over.”
He shuffled out of her way and she grabbed a file out of a cabinet by the desk. “Let’s talk at the bar.”
He led the way into the empty room, relieved to have more space between them. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, conscious that it was his first time offering anyone anything in his new place.
“Just soda water.”
Tyler went behind the bar and grabbed two glasses. He set them on the counter, then realized he had no idea how to get her what she’d asked for.
“You need a little help?”
He nodded. “And I bet you’re going to give me a hard time about it?”
But she didn’t. Just slid off her stool and came around the bar. “Ice is in that cooler,” she said, pointing to a built-in compartment. “And soda, tonic, it’s all from this gun.” She pointed to a black nozzle that was hooked to a metal bracket.
He picked it up. There were different buttons marked with letters.
“S for soda water.” She put ice in their glasses, then held them out.
He pushed the button and filled the glasses. It was the only easy thing about today so far. He was still absorbing the news about Kit’s dad. And trying to contain the anger he felt toward his own.
He put the nozzle back and followed her to sit side by side. Kit pulled the folder toward him so he could see it and her elbow brushed his. Her dress had short sleeves, and he tried not to stare at the inked rattlesnake that wound its way up her arm, highlighting the way every toned muscle rippled under her creamy skin. It wasn’t a tattoo he’d have imagined for her, but then again, what did he know? They’d both changed a lot since they were kids.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he directed his attention to the papers she’d laid out.
“Here are the schedule requests,” she said. “Everyone fills one out each week, or they get what they get and no griping.”
“Okay.” He picked one up and read over it. “Loomis only wants weekends?”
“He’s full-time at Lone Mountain Ranch during the week.”
“Got it.”
“So once you’ve gone through the request sheets and you know what everyone wants, you plug them into the calendar on the office wall.”
“It sounds pretty straightforward.”
“It is, sometimes. Other times, everyone wants the same thing so you have to be diplomatic. This week, for example, everyone wants to work Saturday night. And, for that matter, so do I.”
“Why this Saturday?”
“The Benson Spring Fling. Huge crowd. Good tips.”
Tyler remembered the Fling, with its rummage sale, the art walk downtown, horsemanship demos at the fairgrounds. And he remembered one Spring Fling especially. He and Kit had met up as the day became dusk, and ended the night in the back of a cop car.
She might have remembered it, too, because her pale skin tinged pink. Or maybe she wished he’d hurry up and learn the scheduling so she could get out of here.
“So how do I decide?”
“You’re the boss. Figure it out.”
“But what would you do?”
“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.” Her feral-cat smile gave no guarantee she told the truth.
“Right.”
She took a slow slip of her water, regarding him levelly over the glass. “It’s a little surreal, you know, that you’re going to be my boss.”
“So that means you’ll stay and be my employee?” He said it lightly, but it was a real question and they both knew it.
She studied him for a moment, as if considering a serious answer. Then all her sass and attitude were back. “If you’re really, really lucky.” She slid off her stool. “I’ve got to go. Make sure you put me on for Saturday night.”
She gave him the opening. Not his fault if he took it. “Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.”
Laughing low, she grabbed her bag. “Story of my damn life. See you around, Tyler.”
He watched her saunter out of the bar, riveted by the way her hips moved, by the fall of her hair when she shook it down her back, by the brittle note he’d heard in her laugh that made him wonder if she was really laughing at all.
* * *
KIT BLINKED, the bright sunlight of the parking lot accosting her after the dim light inside the bar. Round two with Tyler. At least she hadn’t knocked him down this time. That was an improvement.
But not a great one. She hated feeling out of control, but that’s how she’d been in that staff meeting. She knew she was being rude, but somehow she’d been unable to stop. She’d been overcome with a fiery resentment that Tyler could walk in and have the power to change the bar she loved. Just because he had money.
Her thoughts stopped her in her tracks and she fumbled for her keys, absorbing the idea. They’d been friends growing up, but he’d always been the rich kid. The one with the horses they rode, with the truck, as they got older. He’d always had so much to offer, and she’d just tagged along behind.
Is that what all of this fury was really about? Whatever the reason, she had to get it under control. Tyler was right to reprimand her. Her behavior at the meeting was childish and rude. If she wanted to keep working at the Dusty Saddle, she’d have to learn to keep her mouth shut.
She located her keys, but instead of opening the Jeep she leaned against it, looking west toward the immense Sierra peaks, as tumbled and jagged as the jealousy that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her soul. It had been there ever since Arch came to town and fell in love with Mandy. But now the jealousy encompassed the bar, too. Because once again, something she’d wanted had been scooped up by someone else. Someone who couldn’t appreciate it the way she did.
She shouldn’t keep working here. Not if it ate at her like this. Not if it was going to bring her to this place where she didn’t want to be, wishing so badly for what someone else had.
She’d lied to Tyler about not being able to work today. About having something on her calendar. She had nothing. Just a pile of self-help books and a long afternoon in front of her. Maybe she’d make use of it to fill out an application for a job at the High Country Sports Bar. Because clearly it was time for a change.
* * *
TYLER PULLED HIS truck alongside his father’s cattle barn and cut the engine. A ranch hand had pointed him this way, saying that his father was here looking over a new bull. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the spring sunshine on his face. The warmth felt good after all the tension this morning. He still couldn’t decide what was worse. His challenging staff meeting, or learning that his dad had fired Garth.
There was also the way he kept thinking about Kit. That wasn’t great, either. Because she was beautiful and sexy as hell, and he had no business noticing that. Maybe it was a little twisted, but he’d kind of liked the way she stood up to him. He wasn’t used to it. The women he met on the road were drawn to him because they liked rodeo cowboys. They’d flirted with him and fawned on him more with each victory. Kit, on the other hand, seemed totally unimpressed. It was strangely refreshing.
Tyler shoved his shoulder into the door of his truck when he opened it, not because it was stuck shut but because he needed the impact to jar him out of his reverie. Kit was his employee, and hopefully, still his friend. He should just be grateful for her help with the schedule today.
He should be focused on the injustice his dad had done to hers.
“Dad,” he called as he stepped into the barn. He paused to let his eyes adjust to the shadows and spotted his dad at the end of the center aisle. He walked toward him, trying to assemble the words he needed to say into some kind of coherent order.
“Tyler.” His dad nodded at his approach. “Check out Red Letter.”
The Hereford bull was knee-deep in straw, chewing on alfalfa hay. He eyed Tyler balefully, so much calmer than the bulls he’d faced in the arena. “Looks too mellow to get much done with the heifers.”
Talking cattle was about the only time Tyler saw his dad smile. “Don’t underestimate him. Give him his own herd and no tough Angus bulls to compete with, and he’ll do just fine.”
“You’re cross-breeding. Doesn’t that reduce the price when you sell?”
“A little,” his dad said. “But it strengthens the herd in the long run.” He turned away from the bull and fixed his piercing gaze on Tyler. “You miss the bulls? Is that why you came by?”
“I miss them a little, but it’s not why I’m here. I came by to talk about Garth Hayes.”
His dad looked startled. Then worried. “Is he okay?”
“Depends on what you mean by okay. According to Kit, you fired him.”
His father’s face drew into harsher lines. “I did. He wasn’t pulling his weight.”
“I’m sure he was doing all he could. He’s getting older, but the guy can still work.”
“If he wants to work, he can. Just not here.”
“And who the hell is going to hire him?” Tyler tried to keep his voice steady, but frustration cut through his tone. “He should be allowed to grow old working here, on the ranch he’s given everything to. Why don’t you want him here anymore? Did he do something wrong?”
“Not really. But now that your brothers are taking on so much responsibility, we just didn’t need him anymore.”
A deep breath stemmed the fury that threatened to erupt at his father’s cold dismissal of a loyal man. Sometimes it seemed like his wife’s death had siphoned all the compassion out of Ken’s soul.
Tyler willed away the feeling that he was a kid about to get his ideas shot down by his dad one more time. “He’s got no money. He isn’t receiving much of his pension.”
Annoyance drew his dad’s thick gray eyebrows together. “I already told that daughter of his that Garth’s pension situation is out of my control. He borrowed against it and never repaid the money. If he has a complaint about that, he has to contact the folks who manage the pension fund.”
“You know full well that the pension fund isn’t going to help him out. And did it ever occur to you that the reason he never paid back that loan is maybe you didn’t pay him enough? When was the last time you gave your ranch hands a raise?”
“They make plenty,” his father snapped. “What, you want me to pay off their gambling debts, too? Their bar tabs? I have grown men working for me and I expect them to handle their own finances.”
“And I’m sure most of them do. But Garth worked for you almost his entire adult life. He put in twelve-plus hour days, whether the sun was blistering or the snow was piled deep. He was here on Thanksgiving and Christmas, making sure things ran smoothly while we were all inside enjoying our dinner. He took that loan out because he’s an honorable man who felt obligated to provide for his wife, even though she left him. Don’t you think we should help him out?”
His father’s face went pale with a rage Tyler hadn’t seen since the day he told his father he was hitting the road to rodeo full time. “I have fulfilled my obligations to Garth, and to all of my other employees.”
Tyler pulled out his last ace. It was just a guess, but it was worth a try. “What do you have against him? What did he do to you? Is this about how he taught me to ride a bull?”
His father flinched and Tyler knew his guess had some merit.
But no way would his father admit it. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Garth Hayes retired with all the money that was due him. I met my obligation to him.”
“You fired him for no good reason. The least you can do is give him a comfortable retirement. You can certainly afford it.”
His father shook his head, his entire face drawn into a defensive mask. “You’re a businessman now, son. And you’ve got to learn to keep emotions out of your work if you’re going to have any success.”
“If success means turning my back on the people who work for me, then I’ll take failure any day.” Tyler turned away from his father’s narrow worldview, shoulders aching from the tension. He started back through the barn, disappointment weighting his steps.
“Tyler,” his father called.
A flicker of hope rose in his heart, but sputtered as soon as Tyler saw the bitter line of his dad’s mouth.
“You’ll see that I’m right.” His father clenched his fists at his sides as tightly as he’d clenched the warmth out of his soul. “The best thing you can do for your employees is to run a tight ship. Expect a lot from them, give them what they’re due and nothing more. Everyone will benefit.”
“What I see is that you and I are different,” Tyler said. “And I don’t believe your view is one I want to live by.”
He headed for his truck, refusing to look back again. He couldn’t control his father’s choices, but he could make amends. He’d find a way to repay Garth the debt his family owed him. That he personally owed him. And if he made Kit feel a little better about things in the process, well, that would ease his mind, too.
