CHAPTER 16
Three weeks later
Lydia sat at a picnic table near her mother’s food truck, leafing through a shoe equipment catalog with Emmaline and Luci. “You sure it would be okay to put another industrial machine in the dining room?” The first check from Colton had arrived by certified mail the day before and was currently burning a hole in her pocket. She was anxious to get the ball rolling.
Luci shrugged, giving Lydia a wry smile. “When my parents gave me the bungalow, I never imagined it becoming a sweatshop.”
“I’ll be moved back into my apartment over the dress-shop as soon as Main Street reopens,” mentioned Emmaline. She turned to Lydia. “I have plenty of space in there. You’re welcome to move your equipment in while you’re in start-up.”
Lydia pulled a sketchbook out of the bag she used as a catch-all for her wallet and everything else. “What do you think of this design?” She pointed to one of the Grace Boots logos she’d doodled. “And I’ve been thinking, Emmaline, what if we team up for bespoke western wedding wear?”
Emmaline’s eyes grew wide. “You mean like trying to get customers?”
Lydia nodded eagerly. “Your dresses are gorgeous. And a bride would love nothing more than your special touches on a dress.” She grinned across the table at her roommate. “And a custom-made pair of boots.”
Emmaline shook her head. “Oh, wow. I don’t know. I’m really just a tailor.”
“Pfffft,” Lydia scoffed. “You’re brilliant. Can we at least team up for a photo shoot? Your dresses and the wedding boots I’ve made?”
“Morning, ladies.” Jamey Sinclaire joined them.
“Just the person I was hoping to talk to,” said Lydia, raising her cup of coffee. Post tornado, Jamey had teamed up with her mom to run the food truck while the diner was being rebuilt. It turned out that Jamey and Dottie made a great team in the kitchen, something that shocked and thrilled Lydia. She never thought she’d live to see the day her mother shared a kitchen with anyone, let alone a Cordon-Bleu trained chef. But stranger things had happened in the aftermath of the tornado that had nearly destroyed Prairie.
Jamey refilled everyone’s cups, then straddled the bench. “What can I do ya for?”
“Emmaline and I were just talking about teaming up for western wedding attire–”
“I said I was thinking about it,” Emmaline interjected.
“Give Lyds an inch and she’ll blow a hole in the barn door,” chimed in Luci.
Lydia raised her hands. “Okay, okay, we’re thinking about it. And we wanted to know if you’d be willing to put on your wedding dress and boots again, for a photo shoot?”
“I’m sure Brodie would like that,” Jamey said with a smirk. “Sure. You bet. Just tell me when and where.” She waved at someone across the way. “You guys need to talk to my sister-in-law.” She stood up, waving harder. A young, slim blonde woman, not more than twenty-three or four paused at the table. “Em, you know Lydia and Emmaline, right?”
Emma nodded, accepting a cup of coffee from Jamey. “Sure. What’s up?”
“We’ve been catching up,” Jamey said. “Emmaline and Lydia are thinking of teaming up to create a line of western wear.” Jamey turned to them, brimming with pride. “You know my little ’sis, here is a crackshot marketing genius.”
“Oh?” Emma perked up. “How can I help?”
“Branding for starters.” Lydia pushed her sketchbook across the table. “I’ve got some ideas, and a template for a simple website sketched out, but my expertise is in footwear, not marketing.”
Emma nodded. “I’d give anything for a pair of your boots.”
Lydia blushed at the compliment. “I’d be happy to trade. My work in New York was haute couture, and with Emmaline’s talent for dresses, the obvious starting place is bespoke wedding attire, but we need help.”
“I can absolutely help,” Emma enthused. “Have you thought about a photo shoot?”
“We were just discussing that before you arrived,” affirmed Lydia.
“I’m going to rearrange my schedule next week and work from Prairie. Let me see what I can do. Have you thought of a name yet?”
Emmaline’s eyes grew big, and she shook her head. “I only make clothing. Everything else is Lyd’s thing.”
Lydia took a big breath. This was it. The moment the dream came to life. “I always liked the sound of Grace Boots, but I’m not so sure if that works with the addition of apparel.”
Emma nibbled on a pen, eyebrows pulled together, deep in thought. “I’ll think on it. Maybe this needs to be a collaboration between two different brands.”
Lydia took a big breath and glanced around the table, heat racing up her spine. “I should also tell you in the name of disclosure, that I made a deal with Colton Kincaid.”
Emma’s eyebrows flew skyward. “Colton? That’s quite a coup. I think the man has more groupies in Vegas than Elvis.”
“What?” Luci banged the table with the palm of her hand, practically shouting. “I KNEW there was something up between you two.”
Lydia’s face flamed. How Luci suspected anything was beyond her. She and Colton had been totally discreet when he’d briefly returned to town two weeks ago, and she hadn’t seen him since. Of course, she hadn’t been very discreet at Thanksgiving. But still. She glanced Emmaline’s direction. Emmaline stared at her, slack-jawed. How in the heck was she going to pull off a fake engagement? Her roommates would smell a rat in a New York minute. “Umm, yeah. We… ah… have an understanding. But it’s very confidential.”
Luci stared at her speculatively. “Don’t ever play poker, Lyds. You’ll get your ass handed to you.”
Truth. And exactly why she was so worried about this whole fake engagement business. She wasn’t slick or sophisticated. If anyone was going to blow it, it was her.
“If you’ve managed to talk Colton into being a brand ambassador, you’ll have orders in no time.” Emma stood. “I’ve gotta run, but let’s talk more next week. Jamey, would you be willing to make dinner? I’m certain there’s a way I can help all three of you. I’m meeting my favorite print photographer over at Resolution Ranch shortly, so I’ll talk to her too. She may have some ideas.”
Jamey hopped up and gave Emma a hug. “I knew you’d be able to help.”
Emma stood and topped off her coffee. “Figure out what night works for the three of you and send me a text. I’ll bring my laptop and pens.”
As soon as Emma had disappeared, Luci leaned forward. “An understanding? Between you and the hottest cowboy on the rodeo circuit? Spill.”
Lydia tried not to squirm in her seat. “There’s nothing to spill. I made Colton a pair of boots, he liked them, I asked him if he would invest in my crazy idea, he said yes. End of story.”
“Girl.” Luci shook her head. “That is so not the end of the story. There are always strings attached where Colton Kincaid is concerned. That boy doesn’t have an altruistic bone in his body.”
“Maybe he’s changed,” she snapped defensively. It had been on the tip of her tongue to confide everything in her roommates. But Luci’s comment rankled her.
Luci’s hands shot up. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Maybe he’s changed. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m a big girl, Luce. I can handle it.” Lydia stood. “I’m going to go order my equipment, see you back at the house?”
Luci nodded. “I’ll be over at my folks most of the day, let’s meet for drinks at the Trading Post around six?”
“Great. Emmaline, you too?”
She nodded. “I’m in. I have to go visit mama today.”
Lydia gave her roommate a sympathetic hug. “Let us know if you need anything.” Not many people knew Emmaline’s mother was in an Alzheimer’s care unit up in Topeka. Lydia couldn’t imagine what she’d do without her own mother, and unconsciously made her way to the food truck. “Have a good day, mama,” she called once the line had cleared.
Dottie leaned out the window. “You too, sweetie-pie. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner?”
“Of course.” All hell would break loose if she blew off her mother’s Sunday dinner. Not that she’d miss it for anything. Sundays were the only day Dottie cooked for the family, and she held nothing back. Lydia could always count on roast chicken, mashed potatoes, fluffy biscuits, and most importantly, pie. She blew Dottie a kiss and hurried home to the bungalow, making lists of everything she needed to purchase to be ‘official’.
She itched to call Colton. They’d texted back and forth over the last couple of weeks, but she wanted to hear his voice, share a couple of design ideas with him. She checked her watch. Eleven. If he’d had a rough night, surely he’d be up by now. Not bothering to wait until she reached the bungalow, she pulled him up and pressed ‘call’.
The phone rang once, twice. On the third ring, his rich voice, still filled with the fog of sleep answered. “Circus music? You programmed circus music?”
Laughter pealed from her throat. “Like that?”
“I like pretty much anything coming from you.”
Oh. Her stomach did a somersault. “I got your check yesterday. Thanks.”
“Don’t spend it all in one place.”
“I aim to.”
“Yeah? On what?”
“First major purchase is an industrial sewing and embroidery machine. I’ll have some left over for website development. I’ll need more lasts and samples, but I can purchase those with the first few deposits.”
His voice filled with concern. “Do you need more? I can have my bank wire more if you need.”
His concern shouldn’t make her heart lurch the way it did. Any concerned business partner would ask the same question. Somehow, his tone of voice made everything more… personal. “I’m good, thanks. But I’ll let you know.”
“Do that. I want you to start off on the right foot. Have everything you need.”
She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “Hey, can I tell you about the meeting I just had?”
“You bet, darlin’.”
If anyone but Colton had called her that, it would have had her hackles rising. If a New York exec had ‘little miss’d’ her, she’d have hobbled out of the office on one stiletto, because the other would have been impaled in the wall behind his head. But coming from Colton, it felt sweet. “First off, Emmaline and Luce and I were down eating breakfast at mama’s food truck, and Emmaline and I decided to team up for custom wedding attire. Emma Sinclaire is going to help us with marketing.”
“Hey, that’s great news.” He meant it too, she could hear it in his voice. “But does that mean I don’t get my custom ropers?”
She let out a little laugh as she turned the corner to make the final two-block walk to the bungalow. “For you, I’ll make anything, but especially as a solo start-up, it makes sense to me to focus on high-end materials for special occasions. People will justify the cost of custom dress boots when they’re walking down the aisle.”
“Agreed.”
As Lydia neared the house, a question that had been eating at her the last few weeks, surfaced again. Taking a breath, she dove in. “Do you ever think about getting married?” she ventured. “For real?”
“Me?”
“No. The man on the moon. Of course, you.”
“Why you bringin’ this up?”
She shrugged as she hopped up the steps to the front porch. “Curious. Probably a good thing to talk about if we’re going to pull off being engaged.”
Through the phone, she heard him sigh. “The short answer is no.”
“What’s the long answer?”
“You mean the complicated answer?”
“Sure. Go with that.”
“Seeing Travis and Elaine together, being an uncle? Yeah. But I don’t see it happening,” he stated flatly.
“Oh.” Her stomach hollowed at his denial. “Why not?”
“Rodeo life is hard. And not many women want to be, what’d you call it? Camp-followers?”
“Yeah, that.”
“What about you? Do you see yourself married?”
“Someday, sure. I’d like kids. But most men want a homemaker. Someone to cook and clean and be mommy-taxi, but that’s not me.”
“Aww, c’mon,” he chuckled. “I can see you wearing a frilly apron and prancing around in a pair of those girly shoes you made.”
She laughed outright at the image. “With or without the cocktail dress on?”
“Definitely without.”
“Oh, and I suppose you’d have me wearing one of those scandalous see-through crotchless bodysuits?”
His voice dropped an octave. “Would you wear one if I bought it for you?”
Her chest grew hot, and the inside of her mouth turned to sandpaper. She moved her mouth, but no sound came out. She licked her lips, unable to stop the fantasy he’d painted from playing out in her head. Her eyes darted to the kitchen counter. She should hang up right now.
“I made you blush, didn’t I?”
“I got the travel schedule you texted,” she said quietly when her voice worked again.
His low laughter came through the phone. “Not gonna touch that one, huh?”
There was no way she was going to touch that one. “What if I joined you in San Antonio?”
“That’d be a good one not to miss.”
“What are the chances I can get a last-minute booth at the exhibition hall?”
“If it comes down to money, don’t hesitate. Book it.”
Her stomach dropped. This was really happening. For a moment, paralyzing fear seized her. “Colt?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I can do this?”
When he answered, she was buoyed by the steel in his voice. “I don’t make bad bets, darlin’.”