Masoud Al-Saffar wasn’t prepared for just how small Rancho Cordero was.

Yes, he’d researched the town and knew all the basic facts about it. Population, median income, number of businesses. Everything he had learned on paper about the town indicated that it was a tiny place, but the reality was that it was much smaller than it had appeared.

Only about a hundred people lived in the town, and between them they ran only a handful of businesses. He thought he’d understood the facts, but driving across the town with one stoplight had made the point far better than any research could.

It was nothing like his home.

Al Hayla was an island on the Red Sea, and though small, the capital city was densely populated—a modern, bustling Middle Eastern metropolis. Other towns on the island had sizable populations as well, the beaches were world-famous, and in the last ten years, tourism had become one of his country’s main industries.

Masoud was glad for that. The bauxite mines and petroleum fields on which his family had built their fortune, and the fortune of their country, were no longer enough to base the whole economy on. When he had taken over the family mining business a decade ago, he’d started to diversify the mines in their portfolio and had partnered with companies in the U.S. and Europe to grow their business outside the island.

He’d also encouraged his uncle, the ruling Sheikh, to foster growth in other business sectors. While mining was still important to the country, other industries had grown up as well. The high-tech world, in particular, had found a welcoming climate on the island.

It was a cosmopolitan country, with residents and visitors from all around the globe. You could hear a dozen different languages spoken on any given street corner and find food from another dozen different cuisines on the same street.

He hadn’t been home much lately, much to his parents’ chagrin. He mostly split his time between Al Hayla and the U.S., with occasional trips to China, Turkey, and India—all growing areas for mining and manufacturing.

Masoud was looking forward to being in one place for a reasonable amount of time. He just hadn’t expected that one place to be quite so small and quaint.

The tiny town wasn’t anything like where he normally stayed when he was in the U.S. He didn’t normally stay near the mines he was developing, preferring to drive or fly by helicopter out from the nearest big city—usually Los Angeles or San Francisco, if he was in the U.S. Roughing it meant a luxury house in Salt Lake City or Helena, if he was dealing with one of the mines in Utah, Montana, or Idaho. It was a lot of travel, though it wasn’t exactly a hardship with his private jet and access to luxury accommodations.

He’d driven out from Las Vegas in his favorite car, having had it shipped there ahead of him; if he was going to live there for a few months, he wanted some of the comforts of home.

It had been an interesting drive. The landscape of the high desert around the road was almost daunting, the large stretches of desolate land reminding him of something from another planet. Others might find it lonely and stark, but Masoud loved the raw beauty of the land, and the wide open spaces made him feel at peace. He felt like he might be able to hear himself think out here.

The town had been more or less as it appeared on paper. A few stores, one main street, and a stoplight that he’d blown through as it turned yellow. Still, seeing it in person, he wondered if he should have stayed in Vegas instead, and commuted by helicopter.

He’d chosen to live in Rancho Cordero because he’d been warned by his business partners that opening a mine in the area might be a hard sell. Masoud needed to do some prospecting in the area to see first if there was even a reason to build a mine, but he also wanted to gauge the mood of the town.

Based on Masoud’s research, he couldn’t imagine that the townspeople wouldn’t welcome an opportunity to change their fortunes for the better. If the mine was what he thought it might be, Masoud and his business partners were willing to pay generously for access to the land.

The town looked charming, like the setting of some American-heartland television show or old time wild west drama, but it was also clear there wasn’t much there for people to get attached to.

As he pulled up in front of the house, he thought it was a perfect example of what the townspeople could leave behind if he brought the mine there. The house had been lovely at one point, but it was old and worn, now. He could appreciate the sense of history, but maybe it was time to let something else take its place.

Still, there was something about the old place.

A sharp bark from the passenger seat had him laughing and moving quickly to open the other door.

“Sorry, Leila. I’m wool-gathering while all you want to do is get out and explore, I know.”

The gray pit bull terrier jumped down from the seat and Masoud closed the door behind her.

“Here’s our new home. What do you think, girl?”

He reached down to scratch the splotch of white that marked her nose and forehead, matching her white-tipped paws. Leila nudged him with her nose, like she was telling him to get a move on.

“Yes, ma’am. Let’s go take a look at things.”

There was a large wraparound porch and Masoud could see an expansive fenced-in backyard. Leila was definitely going to love the open space here. He made a mental note to check for a dog door or have one put in so that she could come and go into the yard as she pleased. At least the fence looked sturdy.

Inside the house, it was cool and quiet. There was a nice little foyer that opened into a large room. His living room furniture had been placed in that room, and through the doorway, he could see the dining table. The other door led to the kitchen, and there was a set of stairs leading to the second floor where the three bedrooms were.

Not seeing any of the movers downstairs, Masoud let Leila out into the backyard and then walked upstairs. He found them setting up the bedroom furniture, and after chatting with them briefly about the placement of a few things, he walked back downstairs to do some exploring of his own.

The kitchen was fine. He made another mental note to have new appliances installed, since he was likely going to be there for more than a few weeks. He had a feeling he was going to be cooking more than eating out while he was in town.

The was a stone fireplace in the living room with a large hearth and a rough-hewn mantel above it. Masoud couldn’t imagine building a fire right then, and he wasn’t sure he’d be around long enough to enjoy it, but visually, it made for an impressive feature.

The dining room was nothing special, but he could see that with a little work, it might be. Actually, that sentiment summed up the whole house: it needed some care and refreshing, but it had good bones.

He wished he had some time to take care of a few repairs around the house—just because he normally lived in the lap of luxury didn’t mean he didn’t know how to work. Before he’d taken over as CEO, he’d spent considerable time in the field, getting his hands dirty.

The house was also far enough on the edge of town that maybe it could serve as a place for the mine foreman to live in, if plans went right and there was a need for a foreman, anyway.

Masoud shook his head at his sentimental thinking. This town is already getting to you, he thought. If the new mining project was to succeed, he needed to put aside any sentimentality. That was the only way to get the town to see the logic in allowing the mine to be built there.

He finished looking around the house, winding up in his office, which looked like it might have previously been a bedroom. Located on the corner of the house with windows on two walls, it was an inviting spot, which was more than he could say for most of his previous offices.

All the equipment had been set up correctly, and he noted that the cable internet installer had been by to connect everything earlier in the day. Checking the time, he sat down at his computer to send his parents a short email instead of calling them. He’d report back to his father tomorrow. Even though Asif Al-Saffar had officially retired as CEO, he still kept an office in the company’s headquarters and was on the board of directors, so Masoud kept him apprised of new developments.

He had a few emails waiting for responses, so spent an hour or so going over things while the movers finished up. He reviewed some plans from his business partners and took care of a few things his assistant had sent for his electronic signature.

When the head of the moving crew knocked on the door to the office, Masoud thanked them for their work and tipped them well; he believed in acknowledging work well done.

The first thing he noticed when they were gone was how quiet the house was. He wasn’t used to the quiet, but it might be a nice change from the noise of the city. Maybe he could use the time there as an opportunity to slow down a little. Not a vacation, exactly, but a chance to take a breather from the grueling schedule he generally kept.

He heard a bark from the backyard and went to see what Leila was up to. The dog was watching something off in the distance, and it took Masoud a moment to figure out that the something was sheep. He wondered if the sheep belonged to the farm next door; he’d seen the large plot of land outlined in the county records, but hadn’t done any research on who owned it or what it was used for. Apparently, it was for raising sheep.

He whistled to Leila, who gladly turned from the sheep and trotted over to her human. Masoud leaned down and clipped the leash he’d brought with him from the house.

“What do you say, girl? Want to go explore outside the yard?”

With a tail wag and a tug that Masoud couldn’t help but follow, the two walked through the wooden gate that led to one side of the house. They took their time wandering around the large yard, mostly because Leila wanted to stop and smell everything.

Masoud noticed the large trees in the yard; from their size, they must have been planted when the house was first built. On one of the trees, he saw a heart carved carefully into the trunk. Inside the heart, someone had carved the letters TN + KN. He wondered how long it had been since the lovers had stood here.

Leila pulled on her leash again and Masoud followed, looking up from the tree. He caught sight of someone at the next house down the street and his breath hitched. At first, all he saw was the wavy blond hair that flew out behind her as she swung a large bag from the bed of a truck down onto a small wheelbarrow. The sun glinted off her hair and he swore that the reflection of light was just as bright as the glowing orb itself.

When she had a stack of the bags in the wheelbarrow, the woman picked up the handles and rolled it into the barn. Masoud then caught sight of tanned legs, framed by weathered cowboy boots and jean shorts. They were great legs, and idly, he wondered how they would look in heels and a short skirt. Stunning, no doubt—just like rest of this woman.

Even working as hard as she was, Masoud could tell that she was beautiful. And he liked that she wasn’t afraid to work.

If this is what Rancho Cordero had to offer, maybe his stay wouldn’t be so bad. It seemed that the town definitely had its charms.