Chapter Seven
“Why hasn’t he sent the offer?” Sven asked for the tenth time that evening.
“Because he’s trying to throw you off,” Carl said. He leaned back on his bed in the guest room and watched the sun disappearing below the horizon. “Fulsom knows you’re new at this, and he knows how badly you want his offer. He’s got all the power, and he’s letting you know that. We’ve been over this.” It was a struggle to keep calm enough to soothe his friend; he was consumed with thoughts of Camila after Luis had interrupted them earlier. At least the man hadn’t caught them going at it right there on the creek bed. Ten more minutes and he would have.
“But he said he’d send it in a couple of days. He said he wanted this all wrapped up by the tenth.”
“Then expect the offer on the ninth.”
“Would he really do that?”
Carl could picture his friend pacing his office. Sven sounded frantic. He felt for the man, but of the two of them he thought he was more deserving of pity. He’d waited three years for the chance to be with Camila. Just as he’d been about to buy a ranch, it was stolen out from under him. Now he was thrown together with her night and day and he wasn’t even allowed to kiss her, let alone everything else he wanted to do with her. And who knew if Virginia even had a ranch to point him to when all was said and done with the school project.
“He might. Look. There’s nothing more you can do right now. You’re ready for the deal when it comes. Take tonight off. Go see a movie. Do something.”
“But you’ll be here in two days no matter what?”
“Yes. As soon as the party is over tomorrow I’ll fly back to Chance Creek. Meet the architect the next morning, and be on a plane to California that evening.”
“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Sven told him.
I know what you mean, Carl wanted to tell him. Instead he said, “Go to the gym. Or go for a jog. Don’t let Fulsom get to you.”
“I guess I can do that.”
“You’ll feel a lot better. Get all that adrenaline out of your system, then go home and go to bed. Be fresh for tomorrow.”
“What if the deal comes while I’m sleeping?” Sven asked.
“It won’t.” Not if he knew Fulsom.
Carl called Virginia next, but to his surprise Olivia picked up.
“Virginia’s phone,” she chirped.
“Olivia? What are you doing?” He climbed off the bed and crossed the floor, straightened a few knickknacks on the bureau and crossed the room the other way to gaze out the window. Great; now he was the one pacing.
“I’m supposed to tell her when you call. She’s taking an after-dinner nap.”
“Virginia naps?”
Olivia laughed. “Don’t ever tell her I told you.”
“Things going all right there?”
“If you’re asking if we’ve had another pitched battle with the Turners lately, the answer is no.”
“Good to hear.”
“It’s getting a little boring.”
“Please don’t spice things up.”
Olivia laughed again. “You’re a stick-in-the-mud. Let me get my aunt.”
“Wait—” Carl held his breath until Olivia came back on the line.
“What?”
“Don’t wake her. Just tell her I’m on it and I’ll be home soon.”
“She won’t believe you.”
“Tell her anyway.”
Done with his phone calls, Carl spent what was left of the evening helping set up for the party the following day. The women had decorated the house with candles and garlands, and he was beginning to look forward to the festivities.
Whenever his gaze met Arturo’s, the other man’s eyes glinted with their shared secret. He knew Camila’s cousin was dying to let the cat out of the bag.
Carl managed to get a moment alone with Camila late that night. “Ready for tomorrow?”
“I think so. You?”
“Sure, but it’s not my rodeo.” He put his hands on her hips. “I want to be with you,” he growled.
“I know. It’s like being a teenager.” Her fingers tightened on his shoulders where they rested. Then she let go, smoothed the fabric of his shirt and sighed. “I don’t know what my parents will think about Ximena’s idea when they get here. And I don’t know what Ximena is going to think when she realizes Juana has a different plan.”
“I guess we’ll see what happens when it happens. Camila—” He tugged her close before rapid footsteps approaching in the corridor sent him backpedaling toward his room. Camila darted toward hers.
“Good night,” she whispered from her doorway, grinning mischievously at him.
“Good night.” When she’d slipped into her room, Carl entered his own, shut his door with a click and had to laugh. Camila was right; it was like being teenagers.
And he was ready to be a grown up with Camila.
When Camila’s phone buzzed early the next morning, she nearly didn’t answer it, but when she saw her brother’s name on the screen she slipped out of the busy kitchen and into the yard to take it in private.
“Mateo? Is something wrong?”
“Did Tía Ximena give Papá the mask yet?”
“No. They haven’t even arrived yet. The party starts at lunchtime. What’s going on?”
“It’s just… he’s miserable, Camila. And so am I. I don’t know what to do.”
Camila was surprised he was confessing this to her. She and her brother hadn’t had a real talk in ages. “Can you keep a secret?” she asked.
“Of course.”
She wasn’t sure he could, but her parents were due any minute. He wouldn’t have time to warn their father about the trap Ximena had set for him. “Tia Ximena had an idea,” she said and explained all about the mask and her plan to send Juana across the border.
“So Juana’s going to run the restaurant?”
She could hear Mateo bristling at the idea. “Actually, no, but Ximena doesn’t know that yet. Juana doesn’t want to work with you; she wants to work with me. She can send money home from Montana as easily as from Texas.”
“So… I’ll run the restaurant by myself?” He didn’t sound as pleased as she thought he might be.
“Don’t you want to?”
“I don’t even like cooking that much,” he said. “Now it’ll all be on me.”
Camila held the phone away from her ear for a moment. A fine time for Mateo to admit what she’d always suspected. Why did he make such a fuss about being in control if he didn’t even like the job?
“What do you want to do?” she asked when she pressed the phone against her ear again.
“Something else.”
“Then I think you’d better tell Papá that,” she said in exasperation. “After his birthday party. Let’s see what he chooses to do first.”
“Fine. Talk to you later.”
“Mateo?” she said, worried by how discouraged he sounded.
“Yeah?”
“I miss you.”
Her brother sighed. “Miss you, too.” He hung up.
“Diego! My brother,” Ximena cried when Camila’s parents arrived later that morning. She threw her arms around Camila’s father and gave him a bear hug. Carl hung back as the family exchanged greetings and were ushered into the kitchen. “It’s been so long.” Ximena hugged Diego again, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I thought you might never come home.”
Camila was watching her parents anxiously, and Carl had braced for discord between Ximena and Paula, but Camila’s mother had stopped near the table and stood looking around as if trying to memorize every inch of the room. She inhaled deeply. “It smells like home.” Her eyes were moist, too.
Even Diego looked like a man close to tears.
Carl wondered if he should give the family some space, but when he stepped toward the door, Ximena swooped across the room and took his arm. “We have so enjoyed getting to know Carl,” she said. “He is a wonderful man. And your daughter—she is wonderful, too. Her cooking—amazing!”
Diego lifted his gaze in surprise at that, and Carl was glad Ximena had said so. Camila never got enough praise from her family.
“She takes after her father. We are proud of her,” Paula said.
Camila’s eyebrows shot up, and Carl had to hold back a laugh. Funny how family never said anything nice to your face but bragged about you to everyone else.
“Come. Sit. Our other guests will arrive in an hour, but for now it is just family. I will get you something to drink.”
Soon they were all seated around the table, except for Ximena and Juana, who kept working on the meal they were preparing for the party.
Carl noticed Diego looking at the empty shelf where the mask usually presided over the room.
Diego frowned. “You moved the mask?”
“Let’s talk about that later,” Ximena said from the stove.
“I would like to see it after all these years. Where is it?”
“First you need to rest, brother. Here, have some coffee. Take a breath.” She handed out cups of the strong brew to everyone.
“Where have you put it?”
Ximena looked to Paula in desperation. Paula shrugged. “You might as well give it to him now. It’s why we’re here, after all.”
“Yes, it’s why you’re here. But it is a complicated conversation and—”
“Complicated? How?” Paula demanded. “Are you going back on your word?” She set her coffee cup down on its saucer with a thump.
“Of course not.”
“Then what is there to talk about?”
“Where the mask will stay.” Ximena put her hands on her hips.
“It will stay with Diego,” Paula said. Diego looked from one to the other as if he was watching a ping-pong match.
“Exactly, which means Diego must stay here. In Mexico!” Ximena burst out.
Paula couldn’t seem to find an answer to that. “Stay here?” she finally managed.
“You know I’d like that, Ximena,” Diego said wearily. “And you know why I can’t. Let’s not discuss it. As for the mask, it is generous of you to offer it as a present, but it must stay here, where the heart of our family is.”
“You are the heart of the family, hermanito,” Ximena said, bustling over to the table. “We need you here, too. With the mask. My daughter—my Juana—is ready to go to Texas and work in your place. It is time for the next generation to take up the burden.”
“Juana?” Diego’s chin went up. “She is a girl.”
“Mamá, I don’t want to go to Texas!” Juana said hurriedly. “I want—”
Ximena shushed her. “That’s enough, cariña. It is all agreed.”
“It’s not agreed.” Diego slapped a hand on the table. “I have a daughter myself. I don’t need daughters. I need to keep this family afloat. That is a man’s job. I will do it. End of conversation.”
Ximena threw her hands in the air. “You are being ridiculous. I’m solving everything—”
“Not everything—” Juana said angrily.
“Hush.” Ximena turned back to Diego. “Why won’t you listen to me? Juana is a good worker. Smart. Strong.”
“I say it again—it takes a man to run a restaurant.”
“Then why don’t you let Mateo run it by himself?” Camila burst out angrily. Carl couldn’t blame her for being angry at her father’s blanket put-down of women.
Paula and Diego both looked away. Carl wondered why. Did they worry Mateo couldn’t run it alone?
Or did they want to stay in Texas?
Diego’s shoulders sagged suddenly. “Mateo is a fine son,” he said, “but you know the restaurant business… sometimes his heart, it isn’t in it.” The admission seemed to take all the air out of his lungs, and Carl felt for the man, forced to admit his son’s failings in front of everyone.
Camila stood up, pushing her chair back so abruptly it scraped over the slate floor. “Right. Even he’s admitted that now. And yet you let me go to Montana rather than embarrass him. When my heart is in my cooking.”
“You don’t understand a man’s pride, Camila,” Diego told her. “You never have. You don’t understand what it would do to a first son to be pushed aside by a daughter.”
“I might not understand a man’s pride,” Camila said tightly. “But I know exactly what it does to a daughter to be kicked out of her own home so that a son can keep his!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now you’re making Mateo miserable by forcing him to do a job he doesn’t even like.”
“Which is why I must stay. To make sure the job is done right,” Diego asserted.
Ximena spoke up again. “Juana will solve this problem. She will make sure the job is done right.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if Mateo doesn’t want my help?” Juana crossed her arms, too. “Dios, you two really are twins, aren’t you? Always thinking you know what’s best for everybody else.” She looked from Ximena to Diego. “I barely know my cousin, and yet it’s clear as day he wasn’t meant to run a restaurant. But you two won’t even ask what he wants to do. I know how that feels. I’ve spent my life pretending I didn’t want to visit Tío Diego and Tía Paula. That I didn’t want to travel and learn about new things. Well, guess what? That’s exactly what I want to do—and I’m not going to let you use me to make Mateo feel even worse! I’m going to Montana with Camila. The rest of you can stay here and fight over that stupid mask like dogs over a scrap of meat.”
“Montana? But—” Ximena stared at her daughter, clearly at a loss.
Diego shook his head. “That settles it. If she goes to Montana, I stay in Houston.”
Paula lifted her hands. “Maybe we should sell the restaurant and help buy back this ranch.”
Diego turned on her. “This again! If we do that, what legacy can we hand to Mateo—and our other children? They are not ranchers. They don’t want to move back here. They are Americans now.”
“I just said I’ll send home the money I earn in Montana,” Juana burst out. “Why isn’t anyone listening to me?”
“Because without help, Mateo will fail,” Diego said. “I will not allow that, either.”
“You are so stubborn!” Paula lit into him. Juana joined her, and soon the noise level rose as everyone competed to be heard.
“I will keep working for my family, like I’ve always done. Mateo—”
“Mateo knows nothing of cooking,” Paula shouted at Diego. “All he knows is that stupid music! Blasting it night and day—”
Camila straightened, and Carl leaned forward. He could tell she’d had an idea. But she’d be hard-pressed to make herself heard over the shouting. He figured her family was far more likely to listen if a stranger interrupted them.
“Camila?” he said loudly. “What do you think?”
Just as he’d anticipated, the room fell silent as the whole family turned to look first at him, then at her.
“I think there’s an answer no one’s considered yet,” she said slowly.
Camila waited until a new spate of exclamations died down before speaking again. Her mother was right; Mateo could care less about Mexican food, but if there was a new band within five-hundred miles, you could bet he’d try to score a ticket. He made friends with everyone he could in the music business. Was constantly inviting bands back to the restaurant to eat.
“What if you let Mateo do what he really wants to do? Turn the restaurant into a club—and book live music? It could be a real money earner.”
Diego looked indignant, but Paula stared at her. “Ay, Dios. She’s right.” Suddenly, she smiled. “Camila is right. Why have we never thought of that? He could do it, Diego.”
“But my restaurant—”
“Could still be a restaurant,” Camila told him. “It would simply feature music and dancing, too. Mateo would be the manager. He could hire someone to run the food side of the business.”
Carl nodded at her, and Camila’s spirits rose. It was a good idea, and she could see her brother working night and day to make it successful.
“It would make our son happy,” her mother said to her father. “Think about it, gordito.”
“Si,” he said slowly. “You’re right; it would.”
“I’ll still send money back as long as you need it, to help things out,” Juana added eagerly.
Ximena nodded. She turned to Diego. “And you will help us do everything we can to increase our income here. We don’t want to be a burden on our children forever.”
“All of us working together will pay off the debt in no time,” Juana said happily.
Camila didn’t correct her, but she knew that wasn’t quite accurate. With the changes Mateo would have to make to the restaurant, it would be some time before he could send much money here, but with all of them focusing on it, they could get it done. She’d never even known about these debts. She bet none of her siblings did, either. If everyone helped a little, surely they could get the situation in hand.
“So?” Ximena asked Camila’s parents. “You’ll come home? We’ll be together?”
“Yes,” Paula said emphatically. She nudged Diego. “Tell her it is so.”
“We must talk to Mateo first and listen to his answer,” Diego said. “But if he agrees, then… yes. Yes, I think we could move home. If we all work hard, one day we may pay off our debts.”
Arturo snorted. “Dios mío, Carl, when can we tell them our news?”
Camila turned to Carl in surprise.
Carl chuckled. “I guess now is as good a time as any.”
“I know I said I went to Acapulco to meet with an associate,” Carl began. “That wasn’t entirely true. I met with Señor Valenzuela, and he’s agreed to make some modifications to your agreement. He had passed the ranch on to a partner to manage, and he was disappointed to learn how the man had taken advantage of the situation. We went over the numbers, and I was able to prove that you’ve been paying far more interest than you should have for years. Valenzuela agreed to write down the debt considerably. From now on a portion of your monthly payment will go toward the purchase of the property.”
“That’s not all,” Arturo chimed in. “Valenzuela agreed to match any money we put into repairs or upgrades for the ranch.”
Carl nodded. “With another provision that these upgrades will not be counted toward the ranch’s value regarding your purchase of the property. You only have to pay off the ranch’s current value. A man should be by sometime this week to make a final appraisal, and then you’ll receive a new contract, but I think you’ll find the terms more than reasonable.”
Diego turned to Camila. “Is this true?”
She kept her gaze on Carl. “It’s the first I’ve heard of it. But if Carl says it’s true, then it is. You can trust him.”
Relief filled Carl. She wasn’t angry he’d interfered.
Instead she’d sounded… proud.
But Carl didn’t want this day to be about him, so he was glad when a knock on the front door announced the first of their guests. As he stood up with the others to greet them, Camila came and took his arm.
“Thank you,” she said. “You don’t know how grateful I am. This debt seems like it’s been a millstone around my family’s neck; I had no idea how much it was dragging everyone down. How long will it take to pay it off, do you think?”
“A while,” he cautioned her, “but the way the loan was arranged before, they’d never have paid it off—and never gotten to buy the ranch back, either.” He hesitated. “You know I’d gladly contribute—”
She shook her head. “You have contributed, in a way that allows my family to keep its honor. You can’t be the one to pay it off. We have to do that.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“You’ve done more than you know.”
“What do you mean?”
She smiled impishly. “Mamá said she wouldn’t give me permission to marry you until the mask was in my father’s hands.” She nodded to where Ximena had just placed a wrapped package on the table in front of him.
“You should have told me!” Carl tugged her closer. “What if I’d lost you?”
“Dios mio, the way you two behave.”
When Carl pulled back, he found Paula shaking her head at him. But then she smiled, and he knew he really did have her blessing to court Camila.
Later that afternoon Carl was in the kitchen by himself when Diego wandered in, saw him, nodded, poured himself a cup of coffee and joined Carl at the table. The rest of the party had moved into the living room after they’d eaten their fill, and now the house hummed with the low murmur of conversation, the guests mellow from good food and drink. Carl was working out his flights home. The next forty-eight hours were going to be busy.
“So, you talked to Valenzuela,” Diego said.
“Yes.”
“Money has its perks.”
Carl couldn’t argue with that. “Yes. Connections, too.”
“I suppose I need to thank you.” Diego didn’t sound too eager to do that, but Carl understood he was a proud man.
“No thanks needed. But I did want to have a word with you. About Camila.”
“You want permission to marry her.”
“Yes.” Carl didn’t feel the need to elaborate. Camila’s family had gotten a chance to see him in action. It was up to Diego now to decide if he approved of him or not.
“My daughter is very special to me,” Diego said after a minute or two had passed. “She must be cherished by her husband.”
“I intend to do that.”
“She deserves a home of her own. A good one—not that cabin she rents.” He waved his hand in disdain. “I’ve seen pictures. Bah.”
“I’ll give her a home.”
“She’ll need to fly here to visit us often. Her mother misses her.”
“That can be arranged. I value family, too.”
“Do you?”
Carl nodded. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much of it.” He related the circumstances of his parents’ deaths. “I’m looking forward to having a new family.”
“And children?”
“I’d like that. If Camila does.”
Diego surveyed him. Nodded, finally. “You have my blessing.”
His pronouncement meant more to Carl than he’d anticipated, and he had to clear his throat before he could answer. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Diego said. “For helping my family find its way back together.” He shook Carl’s hand formally, stood up and fetched a second cup of coffee before returning to the living room.
A moment later Camila crept into the kitchen.
“Did you hear that?” Carl asked, guessing the source of the happiness shining in her eyes.
“I did. He said yes, and we didn’t even have to steal the mask.”
Carl stood up to cross the kitchen. “I’ve got to leave tonight,” he said reluctantly. “I’ve booked a late flight. Do you think I’ll be able to get a ride to Taxco?”
“Yes. I figured as much. Luis is ready when you are.”
“Will you stay long?”
“No. I’ve already been gone for too many days. I promised Fila I’d be back. I’m planning to fly out tomorrow. Juana says she wants to come, too.”
“When I’m done with Sven and Virginia, you and I need to spend some time together—alone.” He cupped her face with his hands. “Have a real date, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I know what you mean.”
As he leaned down to kiss her, he caught himself looking to the doorway to see if someone would arrive to stop them.
Camila did, too, then laughed.
“God, I want you,” Carl groaned, pulling her into a hug instead. If he kissed her now, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop, and he didn’t want to appall her family just when he’d convinced them he was worthy of their daughter.
“I know,” she said. “Soon.”
Saying goodbye to the others was more difficult than he’d imagined. As ready as Carl was to go home, he was leaving behind some new friends here in Guerrero.
When it was time to go, Diego and Gerardo shook his hand. Arturo did, too. “We are looking forward to seeing Montana someday,” he said.
Carl grinned, but worry dogged him. He had to get things right these next few days. Sven was counting on him. So was Virginia. Camila, too—and Juana—although he’d make sure they had a place to live, even if it wasn’t the ranch Virginia had promised him. Still, he’d be disappointed not to follow through on his promise to Camila—and her father—sooner rather than later.
“Ready?” Camila asked him as Luis carried his bag out to his waiting truck.
“I guess so. I’ll always remember this, though.”
Ximena hugged Carl, too. “Make an honest woman of Camila,” she scolded him. “Soon.”
“Aunt Ximena!”
“I will.” He turned to Paula. “Thank you for sending us here. My life is richer for having met your family.”
“You are a good man,” Paula told him. “I will see you soon.”
“You bet.” Carl pulled Camila into another fierce hug. “I’ll see you back in Chance Creek.”
“Can’t wait,” she said.
“Camila? Where have you been?” Fila exclaimed when Camila called her from the airport the following day. Camila knew her roaming charges for the cross-border call would be horrible, but she needed to talk to Fila rather than text her. “Where are you? Still in Mexico? Please tell me you’re coming back soon!”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. It’s been crazy. I can’t believe how much I’ll have to catch you up on. Everything okay at the restaurant?”
“Yes, but I need you back.”
“I’m on my way. Waiting for my first flight. But I need to ask you something.” What if she’d made Juana a promise she couldn’t keep?
“Ask me what? What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
“My cousin. She’s a really good cook. And she was wondering… well, I was wondering… if she could come to work for us. First as a volunteer,” she said in a rush. “But then, if we like her, we’ll need to sponsor her as a worker. She knows all about authentic Mexican cooking, something I want to learn more about. She really wants to come to Montana—”
“Of course—as long as you’re coming home! We’ve got plenty of work for another person. Just get on that plane, okay?” A teasing note came into her voice. “I’m sure Carl’s starting to miss you.”
Camila bit her lip. “Funny story about that…”
“You’re definitely on the plane tonight, right?” Sven asked when Carl took his call first thing that morning. He was just pulling into Thorn Hill after flying overnight, and there was Virginia on the front steps looking like she wanted to murder him. He’d texted her he’d be home this morning and that he’d call when he got in. Seems she hadn’t wanted to wait that long.
“That’s right. Any sign of the offer?” Carl parked the truck and shut off the engine.
“Not yet. But any minute, right?”
“I’d expect so.”
“Well, you decided to show up,” Virginia called from the front stoop. “I suppose I should be grateful.”
“Who’s that?” Sven asked.
“My next meeting. Gotta run. See you tonight, but let me know if you get that offer.” He cut the call, gathered up the things he’d need for his talk with Virginia and climbed out of the truck, wishing he could have stopped at his cabin first to clean up.
“You’re late,” Virginia announced when he reached the top of the stairs. Carl passed by her into the house and kept going until he reached the formal dining room. He took a seat and set his laptop on the table.
“I’m here now. Where should we start?”
“You tell me. Tonight’s the presentation to the board—and I don’t have a speech. Where is it?”
Carl straightened. “Tonight? What do you mean it’s tonight? I thought we had four more days.”
“It got moved. I was calling all yesterday.”
He’d seen those calls. And ignored them. He’d spent hours after the party getting to the airport, then had flown all night to reach Chance Creek. He’d figured sleep was more important than soothing Virginia’s nerves all over again.
Now he’d pay for that mistake.
“But—” Hell, could he fix this? Carl tapped a finger on the table. He didn’t technically have to be in California until tomorrow morning. He hated to jerk Sven around more than he already had, but he could leave after the meeting tonight and arrive before the workday started.
“We’d better get right to work, then,” he said resignedly. “Give me what your architect has done for you, and I’ll incorporate it into the presentation. Then I’ll call Sven and change my flights.”
“Where’s your printer?” she demanded.
“Why do I need a printer?”
“To make me a copy of my speech. What do you think I’m going to do, read that thing’s mind?”
He was fast losing patience. “I’m creating a multimedia presentation, Virginia. I can’t just print it out.”
“I don’t want a multimedia thingamajingy. I want a speech!”
Carl stopped himself from saying something he’d later regret. She has a line on a ranch, he reminded himself. And I need a ranch.
“The whole point is that we’re going to upgrade the school with technology to prepare Chance Creek High’s students for the future. You can’t convince anyone of that unless you’re using technology.”
She eyed his laptop askance.
Carl sighed. “I’ve seen your cell phone. You’ve sent me emails. I know you’re capable of using a computer.”
She shook her head. “Not like that. Not a bunch of clicking and pointing and whatever.” She lifted her chin. “You’ll have to come up onstage with me and run that part.”
“Fine.” Carl tapped on the laptop’s keys, pretending to mess with the presentation while he rescheduled his flight. There was a flight out around midnight, and he’d land in San Francisco before dawn. He’d sleep on the plane. It was as simple as that.
“Pull up that presentation and let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Carl said, wishing all of this was over. He was juggling too many balls. The search for the ranch, wooing Camila, the travel, Sven’s buyout, the school update project…
One thing at a time, he told himself. Make a list, cross things off. Get it done. When the board had approved of the project and Sven’s buyout was completed, he’d be able to concentrate on Camila and Camila alone.
He couldn’t wait.
By the time she’d explained everything to Fila, it was time to board their flight. Camila hung up, and she and Juana joined the line of passengers showing their identification and tickets before getting on the plane.
“Ready?” Camila asked her cousin.
“I think so.”
It had been a teary goodbye between Juana and Camila and their respective parents. Camila had learned so much about her family in such a short period of time. “I already want to go back to visit again.”
“You will,” Juana assured her. “I think we’ll both be traveling more now.”
Camila liked the idea of that. Maybe next time her other siblings would make it to Mexico, too, and they could have a real family reunion.
The thought of it buoyed her spirits during the rest of their journey home, but by the time their third flight began its descent into the airport, she was exhausted, and Juana looked done in, too. Camila had only been in Mexico for a week, but she felt as if she had been gone for years. The relatively tame landscape was something of a relief. Not that she hadn’t appreciated the colors, noise and chaos of Mexico, but she had to admit it got a little overwhelming.
Juana had kept up a cheerful running commentary throughout their flight, but toward the end she grew quiet, too. At first Camila thought she was tired, but as they waited for their turn to deplane she started to suspect it was something else. Juana clutched her carry-on so tightly her knuckles were white, and she scanned the airport through the plane windows like she was entering enemy territory.
Was she getting cold feet about coming to Montana?
Camila put a hand on her cousin’s arm, determined to do whatever she could to make Juana feel at home here.
Juana had come as a tourist, and they’d agreed she’d help out at the restaurant for free while they consulted with an immigration lawyer about the correct way for Camila to sponsor her. More than likely, she’d have to go home again before coming back with a work visa. It would all take time, and Camila had assured her she could head home whenever she was ready to visit her family.
Still, she knew how intimidating it could be to enter another country. “Fila’s meeting us to drive us home,” she assured Juana. “Wait until you see how small the airport is. You’ll think it’s funny.” She thought of something else. “Juana, can you keep a secret?”
“Si. Of course I can.”
“Good, because you can’t tell anyone except Fila that I’m dating Carl.”
“Why not?” Juana was taken aback.
“It’s a long story. The families we live with—the Turners and the Coopers—don’t like each other much. So when we see him again, pretend you’re just meeting him.”
“You gringos are strange.”
Finally it was their turn to walk down the portable steps and cross the tarmac.
“Welcome home!” Fila cried as soon as they walked through the door into the airport. She wrapped Camila in a big bear hug. Fila’s husband, Ned, was close behind her, carrying Holton, followed by all the Turners. The crowd of friendly faces chased away all her regrets about leaving Mexico.
Juana stood awkwardly to one side, watching Camila’s friends cluster around her, and Camila remembered how she had felt getting off the bus in Taxco, where everybody knew everyone else, but no one knew her. She extricated herself from another of Fila’s embraces and pulled Juana into the knot of greeters. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my cousin Juana Sofia Valentin Torres.”
Juana greeted the crowd timidly, and Fila embraced her the same way she had Camila. “Fila Matheson,” she introduced herself. “I’ve heard all about you! Camila says you’re going to show us how to cook real Mexican food.”
Camila introduced Juana to the rest of her friends in turn, and by the end of it she thought her cousin was looking a little more like herself. Everyone else headed out when she went to collect their luggage, but Fila and Ned hung back to drive them home.
“The Turners are up in arms about this Founder’s Prize,” Fila warned her. “It’s a good thing Carl didn’t fly back with you.”
Camila nodded. “I know. We’ll be sneaking around for now.” Something had occurred to her on the plane, and she thought maybe this was a good time to bring it up. “I should have asked this sooner,” she said, “but if you’re letting me and Juana make changes to the menu, it’s only fair you get to do the same. Have you ever thought about offering more traditional Afghan food?”
Fila shrugged. “Not really. I love it, but all my fondest memories are of food with an American touch. The dishes my parents made. The only time I ever ate genuine Afghan food was when I was captured by the Taliban.”
“That makes sense.” Camila could understand why Fila didn’t want to revisit that time. She’d spent ten years in Afghanistan before escaping and making her way back to the United States. For the first time Camila wondered how Juana’s cooking would fit in with their fusion food.
They’d figure it out, she decided. She wouldn’t worry about it now.
Fila and Juana chatted cheerfully on the ride out to the Flying W, and Maya Turner invited them in for tea when they reached the ranch.
But later, when Fila had gone, and she and Juana stepped inside her rented cabin, its musty smell assaulted her nostrils, and she hurried to throw open the living room windows, realizing she should have asked Maya or Stella to do that before she got home.
“Come on in,” she told Juana, who lingered in the door. “Sorry for the mess. I left quickly. I should have cleaned up more.”
Juana nodded. She stepped inside and looked around, as if afraid to venture any farther.
Camila could understand why. She’d left dishes in the sink. Something in the refrigerator smelled off, and a banana she’d left in a basket on the counter was rotten. But the day she’d left had been so hectic. She rushed around to gather the bad food, throw it all in the trash and take the bag out to the cans secured in a bear-proof container out back. Inside again, she opened more windows, sprayed some cleaner on the kitchen counters and gave everything a good wipe-down.
“I had no idea I’d be out of town more than a day or two,” she explained to Juana, who finally came to join her in the living room.
“This is your house?” Juana asked.
“I’m renting it from the Turners. For now.”
“I guess I thought…”
“What? That I’d live in a castle?” Camila smiled, but she wished Juana could see the charm of her little cabin. She’d never minded it until now.
“Carl will buy you a castle,” Juana pronounced.
“We’re going to live on a ranch when we’re married. Like the one you grew up on.” Hilltop Acres wasn’t any fancier than her aunt and uncle’s house in Mexico.
Juana didn’t look like she believed her.
Camila picked up her suitcase and lugged it into her bedroom, coming back out with clean linens to make up the sofa bed for Juana. Juana watched as she pulled out the hidden bed and put on the sheets. For the first time Camila wondered what it would be like to live at Hilltop Acres. Neither she nor Carl had been exactly enthusiastic about it.
Could they make it into a home together?
Camila slowed her work, suddenly overwhelmed with shame for what she’d put Carl through. What kind of a woman forced a man to buy her a house before she’d even date him?
“Is something wrong?” Juana asked.
“Yes, there is. I need to talk to Carl.” But when she called him, he didn’t answer. He’d said something about an appointment earlier, and she knew he had a world of work to catch up on before he hopped in a plane and flew out to California. But later she’d try again. She needed to tell him he didn’t need to own a ranch in order to be with her. She could be patient until the right one came along.
She hoped she wasn’t too late. Camila wasn’t all that clear on the escrow process. She had no idea if Carl would be able to cancel the sale at this point. If he couldn’t, she’d gladly live with him at Hilltop Acres once their relationship had progressed that far. They’d make the best of the situation, she decided. As long as they were together, she didn’t mind where it was.
“There,” she said to Juana. “All set for you tonight.”
“Fit for a queen,” Juana said wryly. “Welcome to America.”
Camila laughed out loud. “Now who’s acting like a princess?”
Juana laughed, too. “Maybe I should go stay with Carl.”
Camila snorted. “Good luck. His cabin is even worse than mine. Come on,” she added, having a sudden inspiration.
“Where?”
“To Fila’s. I’m hungry. Aren’t you?
“Si.”
When they arrived at Fila’s Familia a half hour later, Camila braced for Juana’s reaction. She hoped her cousin liked her restaurant better than she liked the cabin.
Juana stared up at the sign above the door. “It’s wonderful. It looks just like the photograph,” she said, “but it’s real.” Her eyes were shining, and Camila’s heart lifted.
“You like it?”
“I love it.”
“Good. Come on in. Let’s get something to eat!”
Inside, the restaurant was half-full. The dinner crowd was just picking up, and they were able to snag a booth and have some privacy while they ate. She led Juana to the counter.
“Everyone loves our butter chicken nachos, and the kofta burritos are good, too,” she said. “But order anything you want.”
“Camila!” Fila came out from the back. “I didn’t expect to see you again until tomorrow. What are you doing here?”
“We’re starving,” Camila told her, “and I wanted to show the place to Juana.”
Fila took over and gave Juana a quick tour of the kitchen and then ushered them into seats at a booth.
“I’ll play waitress today,” she said. “Tell me what you want.”
A lively debate followed, and Camila helped Juana pick out a meal—an Afghan tomato salad and an order of samosas.
“They remind me of itacates,” Juana said when her samosas arrived.
“Ita-what?” Fila asked.
“They’re like tacos made out of potatoes.”
“How would you make that?”
As Juana elaborated, Camila relaxed. Fila and Juana were already getting along. When her phone buzzed, Camila peeked at it. It was Stella Turner.
“Did you hear about the school board meeting tonight?” Stella asked without preamble when she took the call. “It has to do with the Coopers’ plan to win the award. We’re all going. What about you?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty tired.”
“Virginia’s got Carl Whitfield working with her, from what I’ve heard. I’m worried those Coopers are going to somehow win the prize.”
“Carl’s working with Virginia?”
“That’s right.”
Camila couldn’t fathom that. Either Stella was wrong, or Carl had been hiding this from her. Either way, she needed to find out. “Huh. What do you think Virginia wants the board to do?”
“I’m not sure. That’s why I’m going. You should come, too.”
Camila nodded. “Sure. I’ll come.” If Carl really was working with Virginia, why hadn’t he said a word to her about it in Mexico?
And what else was he hiding?
“See, we’ll make a Turner out of you yet.”
By the time Carl entered the auditorium at Chance Creek High that evening, he was so tired he was having trouble seeing straight. He was glad it would be Virginia, not him, giving the speech. They’d spent hours going over the slides, with Sven on a video feed so he could add his two cents. At first Virginia had been put off by the video chat, but she’d gotten the hang of it and soon was ordering Sven around as much as Carl.
Carl had worried Sven would be pissed, but later, when Virginia had gone, Sven told him he welcomed the distraction. “Fulsom’s got to send me that offer any minute. If I wasn’t doing this, I’d be pacing a hole in my office floor.”
Carl had wished him luck. Now he was the one who needed it. He spotted Steel, Lance and Olivia filing in and taking seats in the audience. He followed Virginia backstage to where the superintendent of schools, the principal and several members of the teaching staff had gathered.
“We’re very interested to hear what you have to propose, Virginia,” the superintendent said. “I’m Chuck Millgrove,” he added and stuck out a hand to shake with Carl. “Always looking for a way to better serve the needs of our students.”
“Carl Whitfield.” He wondered if there was a pot of coffee around.
“I’m Geraldine Hook, Chance Creek High’s principal,” another woman announced. Dressed in a demure suit and sensible shoes, she looked the perfect candidate for the job.
“Nice to meet you.” Carl shook with her, too.
“You think this upgrade you’re proposing is the answer to Chance Creek High’s problems?” Geraldine asked him.
“It may not be the cure for all of them, but it can certainly help.” He wasn’t on his game today, and he needed to pull himself together. He couldn’t assume everyone would be on their side, even if he felt they were making a worthy contribution to the school.
“Do you even know what Chance Creek High’s problems are?” she challenged him.
Carl opened his mouth, but the smooth answer he could normally count on didn’t jump to mind. Did he know what the problems were?
He realized he’d never even thought to ask. He turned to Virginia to include her in the conversation, but Millgrove announced, “Time, people.”
Geraldine Hook lifted an eyebrow, as if sensing Carl’s relief at the interruption, then turned away, her disdain clear.
Carl watched Millgrove help Virginia to a seat on the stage and wondered at the source of the man’s almost overblown deference to her. Was there more to this school deal than he knew? Virginia liked to manipulate people. Was she manipulating Millgrove?
Not for the first time, Carl wished he’d moved faster on the Hilltop Acres. He didn’t like being in Virginia’s thrall. But he was proposing a plan to bring Chance Creek High into the twenty-first century. There was nothing wrong with that. In fact, if there wasn’t so much riding on the outcome, he’d be energized by this situation. He loved technology, and Chance Creek was his town. He was going to marry Camila. Have kids of his own. They’d go to the high school.
Carl straightened up. He’d let himself get overpowered by the details, but the important thing was he would be making a difference to his neighbors. So what if Virginia had been the driving force? Maybe this would be the start of a new era in Chance Creek. While some ranch owners were quite prosperous, others scrambled to hold their heads above water. There weren’t a lot of choices for young folks in this town, and a lot of them ended up moving somewhere else. If Chance Creek could diversify, more of them could stay. Families could stick together and help one another. That would lead to greater prosperity for all of them.
When he saw Olivia, Steel and Lance sitting by themselves over to one side in the audience, he hoped this initiative would end up helping them, too. Maybe once they’d experienced doing something good for the town, they’d feel more of a kinship with the other people who lived here. They mostly kept themselves to themselves, except for Lance, whose friends Carl didn’t like. If they felt more confident of their welcome, they could branch out and meet people who were more positive in their thoughts and actions.
Carl decided he’d throw himself heart and soul into the proceedings tonight—not to get access to a ranch for himself but to help a family who’d helped him these past few years. Olivia, Lance and Steel deserved a chance.
“What are they doing here?” Virginia cut into his thoughts, pointing toward the back of the auditorium.
Carl followed her gaze and caught sight of Stella, Maya, Liam and Noah making their way down the central aisle to a row of seats near the front. His heart sank. He’d hoped the Turners would keep clear of the meeting. Were they here to cause trouble?
When Camila entered the auditorium, he stifled a groan. He should have known she’d find out about what he was doing, but he’d hoped she wouldn’t until after the meeting—when the school board’s decision had already been made, and Virginia had put him in touch with the owner of the ranch like she’d promised him. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of helping the Coopers; he simply didn’t want Camila to know that he’d lost the Hilltop Acres until he had something better to offer her.
Camila stood in the back, scanning the seated crowd, but when she lifted her gaze to him, he made a snap decision and pointed to the door behind her.
“Be right back,” he told Virginia. He didn’t want to worry through the presentation what Camila was thinking. He wondered why Camila had come. What had she heard? Was she here as an honorary Turner?
He slipped out the side door and paced the halls of the school until he found her. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself. What’s going on?”
Carl gave her the quickest rundown he could. “Virginia wants the Founder’s Prize. Came up with an idea to upgrade the high school. Pitched it to me, and I got involved. I think it’s a good idea.” All of which was true—up to a point.
“Okay. Well, good luck, I guess.” She didn’t seem too impressed, and Carl knew he had to make up for keeping this from her.
“I don’t think the Turners will like it much,” he confessed. “Wasn’t sure you’d like it, either.”
Camila relented. “I’m not going to let this damn Turner/Cooper feud get between us, Carl.”
“You aren’t mad?”
“That you’re helping to upgrade Chance Creek High? No. But I’m miffed you didn’t think you could tell me.”
“I was being an idiot. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“Then I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Good,” she said with a grin.
They heard the amplified sound of someone coughing into the microphone onstage. “Testing—one, two, three.”
“You’d better get back in there.”
“Where’s Juana?”
“Hanging out at the restaurant with Fila. She’s going to help with closing tonight.”
“Got it. Well, I’d better go.” He hesitated, still wishing he could spill everything to Camila. Wishing he could push her against the wall and kiss her silly. There wasn’t time, though. He handed her his phone. “Do me a favor? Hold this for me. I don’t need any distractions tonight.”
Camila looked at it skeptically. “Why not just turn it off?”
Carl was already shaking his head. “Sven’s going to get his offer from Fulsom any minute. When he does, he’ll call me, and I’ll feel it whether or not it’s turned on. Like a phantom ringtone. I just want to concentrate on one thing while I’m up there.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll hold on to it.”
“Thanks. See you when it’s over.” Carl raced back to the stage, where Chuck Millgrove had just walked up to the podium, greeted the audience and introduced Virginia.
“It’s not every day that I have such good news to announce,” he said. “But Virginia Cooper, here, has taken it upon herself to spearhead a campaign to upgrade Chance Creek High and start an exciting new program at the school. I’ll let Virginia Cooper spell out the project, and afterward there will be time for questions.”
Virginia stood to a smattering of applause, marred by the creaks of a lot of people shifting uncomfortably in their wooden seats. Tension tightened Carl’s shoulders. He’d been so busy this afternoon, he’d forgotten how unpopular Virginia was in town. And how the Cooper family in general were viewed as troublemakers. The Turners’ presence front and center in the crowd boded ill for how this presentation would go. He could only hope they listened and didn’t disrupt it. He saw Camila take her seat with the others.
Virginia took her place at the podium. Carl joined her to work the laptop. “We all know Chance Creek High has always been a disappointment as a school,” she began.
Instantly Liam Turner jumped to his feet. “Shut your mouth, you good-for-nothing—”
Stella pulled him down into his seat with a thump. “Hush.”
“I’m not going to hush while—”
“A disappointment as a school!” Virginia repeated, moving her mouth so close to the microphone on the lectern the feedback screeched and everyone winced. “But that’s all going to change,” she went on, pulling back a couple of inches. “Thanks to us Coopers. We’ve found the money. We’ve found the talent. We’re going to bring this town into the twenty-first century!”
Silence greeted this pronouncement. Camila’s horrified expression was echoed on other people’s faces throughout the auditorium.
“We’re going to obliterate everything about the high school that makes it an utter failure—”
“You’re the failure!” Liam called out.
A couple and their child got up and left the auditorium. Carl saw others gathering their belongings. Getting ready to leave.
He met Camila’s gaze. Do something! she mouthed.
She was right; he had to salvage this before Virginia ruined everything.
He did the only thing he could: grabbed the microphone from Virginia’s hand and elbowed her aside. “Virginia, thank you for that interesting introduction to the project that Andersson Robotics wants to bring to Chance Creek.”
He fixed Virginia with a hard stare until she backed away, pressing her lips together in a tight line, and left the stage. Carl knew there’d be hell to pay later, but he didn’t care about that. He wasn’t going to let Virginia deprive the town’s students of a chance to improve their lot in life out of her petty need to run the Turners down.
It had been a while since he’d stood onstage to present to a large crowd, and the audience looked ready to mutiny, but Carl remembered this adrenaline rush. He’d always loved speaking to potential clients and business partners, which is part of the reason he’d done so well. Why had he been so quick to give this up? he wondered as he gathered his thoughts. This was one of his strengths. Surely there were opportunities for a rancher to work a crowd, too.
Or were there?
“When I look around Chance Creek High,” he began, putting the question away for later, “I see a lot of hard work and love. I see teachers who come in here every day and give it their all. I see an administration who goes to the wall to get their staff what they need to do a good job. I see families, parents volunteering their time to help out. But I’ll be frank. What I don’t see is money.” He let the phrase stand, its echoes rippling throughout the auditorium.
A couple of people sat down again.
“Everyone knows it’s not easy to be a rancher or to live in a small town in a ranching community. There aren’t a lot of jobs around. With help from the Coopers and Andersson Robotics, I want to change all that. We all love this town. We want to stay here—and we want our kids to stay here, too. So we need new businesses, new ideas and new techniques to keep our economy viable. That’s what this project is all about.”
He had their attention now.
“We’ll start by fixing the high school’s roof and bringing its wiring up to code. Then we’ll make sure every classroom has the technology it needs to function at its best. Last, but certainly not least, we’ll build out the Andersson Robotics wing, complete with everything your children will need to graduate ready to participate in the jobs of the future.”
Carl moved on to specifics about each phase of the upgrade. When he caught Camila’s eye again, she was smiling and nodding, although she glanced at the Turners clustered around her and quickly toned down her reaction. She looked down suddenly, pulled out a phone and put it to her ear. He saw her get up and leave the auditorium, but a woman had stood up to ask a question, and Carl turned his attention to her.
“Hi, I’m Deborah Axman, and I teach tenth grade English,” she said. “Everything you said so far tonight has been interesting, and I know that we need more technology in the classrooms, but here’s the thing: I already have my curriculum prepared for next year. If there is going to be new technology in my classroom—and a whole new program many of the kids are going to want to participate in—how will that affect what I need to prepare? I don’t know how to use the technology you’re talking about. How can I teach it? How much training will I get? Is my time going to be compensated?”
A chorus of cheers and assenting voices filled the air. Carl scrambled to answer.
“I… I don’t entirely have an answer to that,” he said truthfully. He hadn’t even thought about it. Sven had promised to provide training, but Deborah was right; there wouldn’t be much time.
“Are these computers and interfaces going to take up space in my room?” another teacher asked. “Are you handing out laptops or tablets to every student? Or will they have to share? Sharing can be really disruptive.”
“Who’s going to teach the robotics classes? How many students will be able to participate? Is the program going to be separate or integrated with other classes?” a man asked. Carl didn’t know if he was a teacher or a parent.
As more people stood up to ask their questions, he realized with a sinking feeling this meeting wasn’t going to be nearly enough. The school board was supposed to vote on the idea tonight, but how could they do that without all the information?
Liam Turner stood up next. “This is what you get when a Cooper runs the show. A mess! Virginia Cooper doesn’t care about robotics. All she cares is about herself!”
Lance Cooper jumped to his feet. “All you Turners care about is keeping the rest of us in the past!”
“We don’t need your stupid upgrade. We’d all be better off if you just left!”
“It’s you Turners who need to leave.”
The two men advanced on one another, hopping over rows of seats and pushing past other audience members to get within reach.
“There’s going to be a fight!” someone yelled.
Carl rubbed a hand over his face.
Of course there was.
When Camila’s phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out and answered it before realizing it was Carl’s. “Camila here. Whoops. I mean, hi. Uh… Carl’s phone.”
“Dude, they sent—” The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry. Think I got the wrong number.”
“Sven?” Camila guessed. “Sven, wait.” When Carl had announced Andersson Robotics was partnering with him on the technology upgrade, she’d put two and two together and realized this was part of the reason he and Sven talked all the time. She had no idea why Carl hadn’t told her, even if he was helping the Coopers to the detriment of the Turners. The end result would help all of Chance Creek’s students.
Up onstage, Carl was finishing his presentation, so she slipped out of her seat and quickly left the auditorium as people stood up to ask questions.
Sven hesitated. “Who is this?”
“Camila. Carl’s—a good friend. I’m holding on to his phone while he gives his presentation about the robotics program. The idea sounds wonderful. You’re amazing for partnering with him on this.”
“Thanks.”
“Is that why you’re calling?
“Uh… No. How’s it going, though?”
“The presentation was awesome. Now people are asking questions.” She peeked inside. “Hard questions, by the sound of it.”
“Huh. I thought everyone would love the idea.”
“Not everyone,” she said as more people stood up. Carl was fielding questions as best he could. “Want me to take a message?”
Sven sighed. “Yeah. I was hoping to talk to him, but I guess he’s busy. Tell him I got Fulsom’s offer, and it sucks. It’s so low it’s insulting. Now I’ve got two days to accept it, or it’ll disappear.”
That sounded bad. “Anything else?”
“He knows the rest. He needs to get here tonight. I need his help. I don’t know what to do. Should I counter? Tell Fulsom to go to hell?” Sven’s voice rose.
Camila turned at a shout from inside the auditorium. She stole a look through the door. Liam was yelling at Carl.
“What do you think you should do?” she asked Sven, wanting to keep him on the line. The man sounded upset, and she knew Carl meant to fly to California tonight—but things didn’t look like they were going very well at his presentation.
“What do you mean?” Sven asked.
“What does your gut say?” Carl was always talking about his gut—how it told him what to do when he had hard decisions to make.
There was silence for a moment. “My gut says turn it down. I think they’re lowballing me because they know I’m new at this and they want to see if I’ll flinch. If I decline, they’ll realize I’m not playing around. Then maybe they’ll make a serious offer.”
“That sounds smart to me.” Now Lance Cooper was yelling at Liam. They were both standing. Advancing on each other.
“But what if I’m wrong?” Sven persisted. “I owe it to my company, my employees, to be a hundred percent sure what the right call is.”
“Is that even possible?” Camila asked as Liam and Lance faced off with each other. “What would happen if the deal falls through? Would you go belly up?”
“No. My company is a money-making machine! Lots of other companies will want to buy it—”
“Then why are you so scared to take a chance?”
“I don’t know.” Sven was silent for a long time. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m scared. Hell, Fulsom’s the one who should be scared—maybe I’ll sell Andersson Robotics to someone else. Or maybe I’ll keep it.”
“There you go—that’s more like it,” Camila encouraged him, but her heart was in her mouth. Liam and Lance were nearly nose to nose, yelling and threatening each other. The other Turners and Coopers had gathered around. “Sven—I’ve got a problem here.” She looked at Carl onstage, speaking loudly into the microphone, trying to get people’s attention.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s the presentation. It’s about to become a riot.”
“What happened?”
“The teachers were upset about how they’d get trained in time for the fall, and then—” she didn’t know how to explain the Coopers and Turners “—tensions flared,” she said. An understatement, if she’d ever made one.
“What’s Carl doing?”
“Trying to reason with them. It’s not working.”
“Get me to him. Can you do that? Safely?” All Sven’s indecision was gone.
“Yes.” She was in no danger on this side of the auditorium, and if Sven thought he could help Carl, she’d do what it took to get him up to the stage. She slipped back inside and ran along the edge of the large room to the stage. “Carl!”
He didn’t hear her until she’d raced up the stage and crossed to him. “Carl—it’s Sven!”
“I can’t talk now. I’ve got a bit of a situation here,” he said.
Camila would have laughed if it wasn’t so awful. “Sven’s got an idea!”
Carl took his phone just as Liam swung the first punch down in the audience. Lance threw one back. Carl listened a moment, said something, listened again and then nodded. He put two fingers in his mouth, leaned down close to the microphone and whistled. The shrieking sound and feedback made everyone in the auditorium duck.
“Everyone in their seats. NOW!” Carl roared.
Camila clapped a hand to her mouth and nearly sat down on the stage. In the audience, people took their seats quickly. Even Liam and Lance backed away from each other.
“You wanted answers—I’ve got answers. I’ve got the head of Andersson Robotics on the line, and he’d like to tell you exactly how he plans to phase in the robotics program in a sensible way over the next two years. He’d also like to explain how the infrastructure will be laid over the summer months so that there won’t be any interference in the fall, and how every teacher will receive paid training so that they can integrate the new technology in a way that won’t put an undue burden on them now.” He fiddled with his laptop, and a man’s face filled the screen behind Carl.
“Hi, I’m Sven Andersson,” the man said. “Let me tell you about Andersson Robotics.”
Camila listened along with everyone else to Sven’s description of the way he meant to bring their school into the future. She was so glad she’d taken Sven’s call. So glad he and Carl had turned this around. They would do good work here—with or without the Coopers and the Turners.
“The vote is unanimous,” Millgrove said when the meeting drew to a close. “We have approved the Cooper Andersson Robotics project.”
Carl breathed a sigh of relief, even though it had been obvious by the end of Sven’s presentation that the majority of teachers and parents in the audience supported the project. He didn’t know what he would have done if it had been turned down—or if Sven hadn’t called.
“Guess I’d better get to the airport,” Carl told Sven as everyone stood up around him. He shifted their connection back to a private call. “That was good work. You’re a quick thinker.” He couldn’t believe the way Sven had managed to answer everyone’s questions.
“We’ve done so much training over the years, it wasn’t hard to extrapolate out what we’d need to do in Chance Creek. Besides, I was a TA back in college, remember? I’ve had to write curriculum myself. I know what these teachers are up against.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“This project of yours is right up my alley, actually. If I wasn’t so swamped, I’d probably be there right now immersed in the whole thing.”
“Speaking of which, what’s going on with Fulsom?”
Sven laughed. “He sent me the offer. Totally lowballed me. I’m going to turn him down.”
“What?”
“It was Camila’s idea.”
“Wait… Camila told you to turn Fulsom down?”
“Not exactly. She told me to trust my gut. I called in a panic about it and wanted to talk to you. She settled me down, said you were busy, then talked me through it. I realized she was right; I’m not going to let Fulsom push me around. Andersson Robotics is a great company. And Fulsom isn’t the only game in town.”
Carl couldn’t think when he heard Sven sound so confident. “That sounds like a smart way to look at it. When I land, we can think of a counteroffer if you like.”
“Carl, you don’t have to fly out here,” Sven said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me all along, and anytime you want to come hang out, I’ll be glad to see you. But you’ve got so much going on there, and I think it’s time for me to start answering my own questions.”
“I don’t mind,” Carl told him.
“I know. Thanks for that. But you’ve got a ranch to buy, don’t you?”
“I hope so.”
“Go get it done. And say thanks again to Camila. She said the right thing at the right time. Hope I get to meet her soon.”
“I hope so, too.” Carl spotted Camila waiting for him. “Gotta go. You sure you don’t need me to come out there?”
“I’m sure. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what happens. I think I’m going to let Fulsom stew tonight.”
“I like it. Good luck.”
“Right back at you.”
Sven cut the call, and Carl went to Camila. “Ready to get out of here?”
“Heck, yeah. That was intense.”
“You’re telling me.”
He caught sight of Virginia deep in conversation with Millgrove and decided it was the perfect time to slip out. “Let’s go before anyone sees us.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Outside the night was still warm. “Don’t you need to go to California?” Camila asked when they reached Carl’s truck.
“Sven doesn’t need me, after all. Because a certain smart chef walked him through his problem.”
“Really?” Camila bit her lip. “I hope I said the right thing.”
“I think you did.” He maneuvered her up against the truck. “I miss you. I swear to God I’m not going to let another moment pass before I do this.” He bent down, gathered Camila into his arms—and kissed her.
Camila knew she should get back to Juana. She’d ridden to the meeting with Stella and Maya, and Juana had stayed with Fila at the restaurant. They’d been chatting happily the last time she saw them, but it was late now. Soon Fila would be closing up shop.
She couldn’t seem to stop kissing Carl, though. If they weren’t standing in the high school parking lot, she’d be doing a lot more.
She’d dreamed for years about touching Carl like this. Now his hands were gripping her hips, her breasts were pressed against his chest and his mouth moved over hers like he was ravenous. She’d tangled her fingers in his hair, gone up on tiptoe and was holding on for dear life. This was what she’d been waiting for—and she never wanted to stop now that they’d started.
When they finally broke apart, she could see Carl fight for control. “Can I give you a ride home?” he asked, his voice husky.
“To the restaurant,” she said. “Or I can walk. It’s only a few blocks.”
“Let’s ride.”
“Okay,” she answered readily. She wanted all the time with him she could get. She didn’t want to stop touching him, and he seemed to feel the same way, but they separated and climbed into his truck.
“I can’t believe this school thing is over,” he said when they were on the road.
“Hardly. Now the board has approved the project, I’d say your work is just beginning.”
“Sven will help.”
She didn’t know how she was managing to keep talking after that kiss. Her hands were shaking. “He seems like a good guy.”
“He is.”
“You are, too, for caring so much about the kids in this town.” She touched his arm and wished she was sitting closer to him. This was a big truck, and there was a lot of room between them. But just as she was considering how to slide closer, Carl sighed.
“I’ve got a confession to make.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “What?”
“I didn’t do it for the kids. Not at first, anyway. Virginia strong-armed me into it.”
Camila chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s… well, she’s Virginia. How did she manage it?”
“That’s the bad part.” Carl concentrated on the road. “We lost Hilltop Acres.”
Camila wasn’t prepared for that, and she gripped the armrest, trying to swallow her disappointment. “Lost it? How?”
“Before I ever managed to put a bid on it, someone else snatched it up, and the owner didn’t even give me a chance to counteroffer. Virginia was behind it. Somehow.”
“So why did you help her?” Camila couldn’t believe it. Now they didn’t have a ranch? They were starting all over again.
“Because she said she had a line on a better one, and if I helped her get the project approved, she’d make sure I had a chance at it. Camila, I don’t deserve your trust after keeping this back from you, but will you give me a little more time? As annoying as Virginia is, I don’t think she’s lying. But I won’t know until I see the property she has in mind.”
“This is my fault,” Camila said, sinking down in her seat. “This whole thing. I should have said right from the start I needed to take it slow. I shouldn’t have made it about you owning a ranch or not owning one. You never would have had to go through this.”
“I’m kind of glad I went through it, though,” Carl admitted. “Not waiting three years to kiss you—but the rest of this. Working with Sven. Upgrading the school. I want to be involved in this town, and this project makes feel like I really am. And now I want a ranch,” he added. “Virginia better not let me down.”
“I hope she doesn’t, but whatever happens, I’m ready to be with you,” Camila blurted. “I’m done waiting for things to be perfect. I want to start living.”
“You mean that?” Carl turned to her.
“Definitely.”
He put on his signal and turned onto the highway out of town.
“Where are we going?” Camila squeaked, holding on to the armrest as he took the corner fast.
“Somewhere private.”
His jaw was set, his focus on the road ahead of him. He drove a few miles, passed the Flying W, kept going, and finally pulled off the road down a lane and parked.
“Where are we?”
“Settler’s Ridge.”
“The ranch the Coopers and Turners are fighting over?”
“That’s right. Tonight it’s ours. Come over here.” He held out a hand.
Heat flared inside Camila. Hell, yeah. This was exactly what she wanted. It had been torture being so close to him in Mexico and hardly getting to touch him. She’d been buzzing ever since the day he’d told her he’d found a ranch. Wanting him so badly she could hardly think of anything else. After their kiss earlier, she’d known she wouldn’t sleep tonight.
Why shouldn’t they take this chance? This past week all they’d done was what other people wanted them to. Now it was their turn. She undid her belt and clambered as gracefully as she could to where he was sitting. He lifted her onto his lap, and she straddled him, her skirt hiking up high on her thighs. His desire for her was immediately clear, and her hunger for him flared hot. Camila wriggled a little against him, and he groaned.
“That’s better.”
The desire in his voice kicked her pulse up higher, and when he kissed her, Camila melted against him. This was exactly where she wanted to be. Her hands braced on Carl’s strong chest, his hands on her hips, moving her against his hardness.
A fire of need kindled hot inside her, and soon Camila wanted much more. When Carl reached between them to undo the buttons of her blouse, she found the hem of his shirt and urged it up over his head. Carl finished with her buttons, and she wriggled out of her sleeves, her shirt soon meeting his on the passenger seat.
Carl ran a finger along the lace edge of her bra, and Camila’s breath caught. When he reached around to unclasp it, she gladly let him take it off. It joined the growing pile of their clothes, and Camila moaned as Carl palmed her breasts. God, that felt good.
This was the perfect position to allow him access to them. Her nipples were already hard, and each stroke of his hand over her sensitive skin brought another wave of desire through her. When he bent to take one nipple into his mouth, Camila closed her eyes and arched her back. His touch was wonderful, and she wanted to feel his hands everywhere on her body.
He took his time exploring her. Teasing her nipples. Laving them with his tongue.
Camila wasn’t wearing stockings, so when Carl reached under her skirt and stroked his hands up her thighs, a shot of heat went straight to her core. He tugged at the band of her thong, and she maneuvered her way out of it—not an easy feat. By the time she was done, they were laughing. Camila wrestled with the belt and button of Carl’s jeans. He was so hard when she got him free, she was in no doubt of how he felt about her.
“I want to be in you.” Carl’s ragged voice undid her.
“I want that, too.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Camila nodded.
“Protection?”
“I’m on the Pill. Carl, please—”
He must have understood what she needed. He lifted her, shifted into place, then lowered her down and pushed inside, filling her in the most exquisite way. When he began to move, it took everything she had not to come right then. He was so hard. So incredible.
But she wanted this encounter to last.
Her hands on Carl’s shoulders, her hips moving up and down, she met his gaze and tried to show him everything she was feeling. This was all she’d ever wanted. All she’d dreamed about these past few years. And here they were.
Together.
As she rocked against him, her nipples brushed his chest, sending tingles of pleasure throughout her body. His muscles rippled as he gripped her hips, guiding her movements, speeding her up. She clung to him as Carl increased his pace, until all she could do was arch her back and hold on for the ride.
She’d waited so long for this, she couldn’t hold back anymore. Camila cried out as Carl’s thrusts sped up, the delicious friction sending her over the edge. Carl bucked with his release and set Camila off on another orgasm. By the time it was over, she could hardly breathe and collapsed against him, laughing—
Almost in tears.
“You okay?” Carl gasped, fighting to recover his breath, too.
“Yes.” She’d never felt like this—never had her body thrum with joy after making love to a man. This wasn’t ordinary. This could only happen with Carl. “We work together.”
“Hell, yeah, we do.” Carl chuckled. He ran his hands up to cup her breasts again. “We certainly do.”