Their Ranch Reunion

“But I’ve always wanted that house. That’s why Grandma left it to me in the first place.” That and the fact that none of his brothers were interested. “I would never consider selling.”

“You were in Denver, hardly ever came home.”

Guilt wedged deeper. Even if he’d found the time to come back, he wasn’t sure he could face the judgmental looks he was bound to receive from his brothers. As though he’d betrayed them for not getting here before Mama died.

“What are you planning to do with the house, anyway, son?”

His appetite waning, Andrew wrapped his suddenly cold fingers around the hot cup his father had given him. “Open up the bottom floor, add an extra bath, update the kitchen... I was hoping to have it ready by the high season to use as a rental.”

“Sounds like quite an undertaking.”

Andrew shrugged, still suspicious of the relationship between his grandmother and Carly. “You know, Carly mentioned something about wanting to expand Granger House Inn. You don’t suppose she shared those plans with Grandma in hopes of getting her hands on that house, do you? I mean, it is right next door.”

His father’s brow furrowed. “It’s possible she made mention of it. But Carly’s not the scheming type. You know that.”

Did he?

“Apparently she’s pretty determined,” Andrew said, “because she offered to buy my half of Grandma’s house.”

Lips pursed, Dad nodded in a matter-of-fact manner. “You gonna take her up on it?”

“No.” Andrew shoved his sandwich aside. “What was Grandma thinking?”

Dad chuckled, lifting his cup. “Doesn’t really matter, son. You and Carly are just going to have to find a way to work it out.”

Chapter Two

“Yes, we do have an opening for Easter weekend.” Sitting at her kitchen table that afternoon, Carly settled the phone between her ear and shoulder, grateful for the distraction. Her mind had been reeling ever since her encounter with Andrew.

She brought up the reservations page on her laptop. “The Hayden Room is available. It has a queen-size bed, a private bathroom and a spectacular view of Hayden Mountain.”

“Oh, yes. I think I saw that one on your website.” Excitement laced the female caller’s tone. “It’s beautiful.”

Carly couldn’t help smiling. Actually, all of their guest rooms were on the website. Something that had garnered Granger House many a booking. The problem she most often encountered, though, was when a group of people or a family required more space or multiple rooms she didn’t have available. That was exactly where Livie’s house would benefit her. Not only could she book the three rooms there individually but also market the entire house to those larger parties. Whatever the case, the addition of Livie’s house would virtually double her income.

“I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.” She took hold of the phone. “Would you like to reserve it?”

“Yes, please. For Friday and Saturday night.”

Ah, yes. There was nothing Carly loved more than a fully booked weekend. Especially this time of year when things tended to be a little sparse. Looked like she’d better get her breakfast menus planned. Though it was still a few weeks away, Easter weekend was extra special. There’d be ham to prepare, biscuits, scones...

She took the caller’s information, hanging up as the kitchen timer went off.

Standing, she grabbed a pot holder and moved to the commercial-style range to retrieve a large baking sheet from the oven. Within seconds, her kitchen was filled with the aromas of cinnamon and vanilla.

She crossed the wide expanse of original hardwood and deposited the pan on the island. Until learning she’d inherited half of Livie’s house, Carly had been saving to remodel the kitchen at Granger House. While the room was large, it had one of the worst layouts ever, with the stove by itself at one end of the room and the refrigerator clear over on the other. Not to mention the lack of counter space. But since she’d be using that money to buy out Andrew’s half of Livie’s house, she’d just have to live with it a while longer.

Too bad Andrew had to be so difficult. Okay, so the house had been in his family for generations. She’d give him that. But unless he was planning to move back to Ouray, what possible use could he have for it? The place would just sit there empty.

Nope, no matter how she looked at it, there was no way this co-owning thing was going to work, and she couldn’t help wondering why Livie had set things up that way. Unless...

She picked up her spatula to remove the cookies, then stopped. Oh, say it wasn’t so. Livie had never tried to play matchmaker for Andrew and her while she was alive. Why would she do it in death?

No, no. Carly refused to believe it.

Still shaking her head, she shoveled the cookies from the baking sheet to the cooling rack. Regardless of Livie’s intentions, no matter what they might have been, Carly would simply have to figure out how to convince Andrew to sell her his half. She would not let him rob her of another dream. Not when this one was so close.

Back when she first took over Granger House from her parents seven years ago, she had grand ideas and had expressed an interest in expanding when the house on the opposite side of them came on the market. Her late husband, Dennis, had never been fond of the idea, though, so she’d tucked those dreams away. After his death two years later, she was too busy caring for Megan and simply trying to keep up to even think about anything other than what was absolutely necessary. But as Megan got older, Carly would occasionally revisit her daydreams. Still, with the other house no longer available, that’s all they were.

Until Livie’s death. Suddenly it was as though God had granted the desires of her heart in a way she never would have imagined. After all, just like Granger House, Livie’s house was only a block off Main Street, affording guests easy access to just about everything in town. And the fact that a narrow drive was all that separated the two houses made it the perfect candidate for her expansion.

At least until Andrew showed up, thinking he was going to claim his inheritance.

She let go a sigh. How was she, a simple small-town girl who’d spent her entire life in Ouray, going to convince some bigwig businessman like Andrew? It wasn’t as if their romantic history would score her any brownie points.

Her gaze drifted to the cookies. And plying him with food wasn’t likely to do the job, either.

Lord, show me what I should do. Because right now, it looks as though Andrew and I are at an impasse.

The back door opened then, bringing a surge of cool air as nine-year-old Megan bounded inside.

“Mmm...cookies.” Her daughter dropped her backpack on the wooden floor.

“You’re just in time. They’re fresh out of the oven.”

Without bothering to take off her coat, Megan rushed over and grabbed one. “Yay, snickerdoodles!” She took a big bite.

Carly snagged her own cookie, pleased that her daughter appreciated her culinary skills. And running a bed-and-breakfast, she was almost always cooking something. If not directly for her guests, then she was trying out new recipes. Something her friends benefited from, making it a win-win for Carly. They gave her feedback and she didn’t have to worry about her waistline. Well, not as much, anyway.

“How was school?”

With the cinnamon-coated treat sticking out of her mouth, Megan shrugged out of her coat. “Good.” She dropped the puffy thing on a hook near the door before plopping into one of the Windsor-style chairs at the table to finish her snack. “Who’s at Ms. Livie’s house?”

Carly glanced out the window to see Andrew’s big black truck once again in the driveway. With all the noise that thing made, she was surprised she hadn’t heard him pull in.

Why was he back, anyway? After watching him leave this morning, she’d hoped he’d decided to stay away until they reached an agreement.

“That would be her grandson, Andrew.” She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and continued on to the refrigerator for the milk.

“Do I know him?” Megan’s blue eyes followed Carly as she moved toward her daughter.

She set the glass, along with another cookie, in front of her. “He’s the one who played cards with you, me and Livie a couple of years ago.”

“When Ms. Livie’s daughter died, right?”

“That’s him.” She ruffled Megan’s straighter-than-straight strawberry blond hair, a trait she definitely didn’t inherit from her mother. But after decades of fighting her natural curls, Carly had finally learned to embrace them. “You have a good memory.”

“Why is he at Ms. Livie’s house now, though?” Megan picked up the second cookie. “I thought she gave it to you.”

Carly cringed. She’d had no business mentioning that to Megan until the estate had been settled. Yet in her excitement over the news all those months back, she’d blurted it out without thinking.

“She gave me half of it. And she gave Andrew the other half.”

“Which half is yours?”

Carly puffed out a laugh. She could only imagine what was going through her daughter’s nine-year-old mind. As if Carly and Andrew could just slap a piece of tape down the middle.

“Unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple.” And if she couldn’t get Andrew to sell her his half, she’d be stuck taking in people’s accounting books until Megan graduated college.

Megan stood, dusting the crumbs from her hands. “Can I go over there?”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now.” If ever. At least, not with Andrew there. Mr. Serious likely wouldn’t tolerate kids.

Still, she couldn’t help wondering what he was up to. Not after catching him removing baseboards this morning. Baseboards he’d better plan on putting back, because she wasn’t about to stand by and let him strip the home of its character.

“On second thought, maybe we should go over there and say hi.” And if their presence happened to remind him that she was keeping tabs on him, so be it.

Megan paused at the island, looking very serious. “We should take him some cookies.”

Hand perched on her hip as she watched her daughter, Carly wasn’t sure how she felt about the suggestion. However, it was Livie who’d always said you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar. And right about now, there was one big fly Carly was interested in catching.

“I think that’s a terrific idea.”

* * *

“Well, that’s just great.”

Andrew dropped his phone on the counter in his grandmother’s kitchen. He’d been calling his attorney’s cell all afternoon. When he finally decided to try the office, he learned that the man was in court and wouldn’t be available until tomorrow.

He blew out a frustrated breath. This was not how he’d envisioned this day playing out.

Pushing away from the cabinet, he paced the ugly gold-and-brown vinyl floor while he waited for a pot of coffee to brew. He knew it was a long shot, but perhaps Ned could find a way to get Grandma’s will overturned and the original reinstated. Then all of his problems would be solved.

You and Carly are just going to have to find a way to work it out.

Hmph. Dad always did look at things simplistically. The only thing simple about the dispute between him and Carly was the fact that they both wanted this house.

As the coffeemaker spewed out its last efforts, Andrew grabbed a mug from the cupboard. If it hadn’t been for Carly, he could have had at least one wall taken down by now. Enough to give him an idea of how the house was going to look with an open concept. Instead, he was left with a whole lot of nothing to do.

Leaning against the counter, he took a sip. He’d loved his grandmother dearly, but leaving her house to both him and Carly had to be the craziest idea she’d had since she went white-water rafting down the Uncompahgre River at the age of eighty-three. Except for sharing a game of cards after his mother’s funeral, he and Carly had barely spoken in seventeen years. Not since the day she turned down his marriage proposal and walked out of his life forever.

Relegating the unwanted memories to the darkest corner of his mind, he scanned the sorry-looking kitchen. While he wasn’t about to give up on getting his grandmother’s old will reinstated, he could still be proactive, just in case things didn’t work out the way he hoped. Near as he could tell, there were only two ways out of this predicament. And since selling his half to Carly was out of the question, that left him with only one option—he’d have to buy out Carly’s half of the house. Something that chafed him more than he cared to admit.

Aside from paying for something that was rightfully his to begin with, he’d have to come up with an offer better than hers. Sweeten the deal, so to speak, making it too good to refuse. Much like the company who’d just bought him out. And left him with a tidy chunk of change. Carly would be able to do whatever she liked with Granger House and leave this house—and him—alone.

“Hello, hello.” As though he’d willed her to appear, Carly pushed open the back door, knocking as she came.

Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was still one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. The kind that could take your breath away with her natural beauty.

Her blond curls brushed across her shoulders as she held the door, allowing a young girl to enter first.

Her daughter had grown quite a bit since the last time he’d seen her. What was her name? Maggie? No, Megan.

“Hi.” The girl smiled up at him with blue eyes reminiscent of her mother’s and waved. In her other hand she held a small plate covered with plastic wrap. “We brought you cookies.” She handed them to him.

So these were Carly’s weapons of choice. Children and food. Ranked right up there with little old ladies.

His conscience mentally kicked his backside. Dad was right. Carly wasn’t the type to try to steal his grandmother’s house. However, that didn’t mean he was simply going to hand it over.

While Megan wandered off as though she lived there, he set the plate on the counter and helped himself to a cookie. “Snickerdoodles. How did you know I was in need of a snack?” He took a bite.

The feisty blonde watched him suspiciously. “What brings you back here?”

He chased the first homemade treat he’d had in a long time with a swig of coffee. “I’m—”

“Uh-oh.” Megan’s voice echoed from the next room. “Somebody made a mess.”

After a moment, Carly tore her gaze away from him and started into the front room.

Andrew set his cup on the counter and followed.

Rounding the corner into the home’s only living space, he saw Megan pointing at the small stack of baseboards he’d begun to remove this morning. Before his plans were rerouted by Carly.

“I was doing a little work.”

Carly lifted a brow. “I’m not sure what kind of work it was, but you need to put those back.”

Irritation sparked. Who was she to start giving him orders?

“Whose is this?” Now on the other side of the room, Megan rocked back and forth in his grandmother’s glider, pointing to the duffel he’d left by the front door. He wouldn’t go so far as to call the kid nosy, but she was definitely curious. Not to mention observant.

“That would be mine.” He turned to find Carly watching him.

Both brows were up in the air this time. “Planning to stay a while?”

This was ridiculous. He should not be interrogated in his own house. “As a matter of fact, I am. For several weeks. Which reminds me—” he crossed his arms over chest “—I think we need to set up a time to talk.” Glancing at Megan, he lowered his voice. “Privately.”

Mirroring his stance, Carly said, “I was thinking the same thing.”

“At least we’re in agreement about something.”

“I’m going upstairs.” A sigh accompanied Megan’s announcement, quickly followed by the clomping of boots on the wooden steps.

Andrew knew just how she felt.

With Megan gone, Carly addressed him. “I’m curious. Before you learned that you were not the sole owner of this house, what were your intentions for it? I mean, were you planning to move in?”

“Temporarily, yes. I’m going to update the place and use it for rental income.”

Seemingly confused, she said, “Where will you be?”

“Denver, of course.”

Lines appeared on her forehead. “Let me get this straight.” She perched both hands on her hips. “You don’t want me to use Livie’s house for my bed-and-breakfast, yet you want to turn it into rental property?”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“Why not just rent your half to me?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Carly. He wasn’t purposely trying to thwart her plans. But this house was supposed to be his and his alone.

He dared a step closer. “Because, should I come back to Ouray, I want to be able to stay here. Without having to share it with someone else.”

She shook her head. “So you’d rather pay me half of the rent money you get? That makes no sense.”

“Pay you? Why would I—?”

“Mommy?” Megan hopped down the stairs, one loud thud at a time.

Carly seemed to compose herself before shifting her attention to her daughter. “What is it, sweetie?”

The girl tugged on Carly’s sleeve, urging her closer, then cupped a hand over her mother’s ear. “We should invite him for dinner.” For all her implied secrecy, Megan had failed to lower her voice.

A look that could only be described as sheer horror flitted across Carly’s face. Her eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sure Andrew already has plans for—”

“Nope. No plans at all.” Fully aware of her discomfort, he simply shook his head, awaiting her response.

Clearing her throat, Carly straightened, looking none too happy. “In that case, would you care to join us for dinner?” She practically ground out the words.

He couldn’t help smiling. “Sure. Why not?”

Watching them leave a short time later, he knew good and well that Carly was no more excited about having him for dinner than he was about sharing his grandmother’s house. But as Grandma was fond of saying, it is what it is.

Who knew? Maybe they’d have an opportunity to talk. And if all went well, by the time this evening was over, Grandma’s house would belong to him and him alone.

Chapter Three

Carly removed the meat loaf from the oven and put in the apple pie she’d tossed together at the last minute. Throw in some mashed potatoes and green beans and it was comfort food all the way. She’d need all the comfort she could get if she hoped to make it through an evening with the man who had once been able to read her every thought.

Using a pot holder, she picked up the pan of meat and headed for the island. Nope. No plans at all. She all but flung the pan on the counter, sending spatters of tomato sauce across the butcher-block top.

She grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess, knowing good and well that Andrew was simply trying to get her goat. And enjoying every minute of it, no doubt. Just like he did back in high school. Only she was no longer the timid girl who was afraid to stand up for herself.

After throwing the rag into the sink, she returned to the stove to check the potatoes. Fork in hand, she lifted the lid on the large pot.

It irked her that Andrew was planning to use Livie’s house as a rental. Why wouldn’t he just let—Wait a minute.

Steam billowed in front of her.

She was half owner. That meant she had a say in what went on next door. He couldn’t use it as a rental without her permission.

Smiling, she poked at the vegetables. Yep, they were done.

She replaced the lid and carried the pot to the sink. This whole dispute would be over if Andrew would simply agree to sell. Unfortunately, for as eager as she was to discuss purchasing his half of the house so she could move forward with her expansion plans, she wasn’t at liberty to talk business with Megan in the room. Which meant this whole evening was a waste of time.

That is, unless her idea of plying Andrew with food actually worked.

Holding the lid slightly off-center so as not to lose any of the potatoes, she drained the water from the pot. Maybe he’d be in such a state of gastronomic euphoria by the end of this evening that it would be impossible for him to say no when she again extended her offer.

Dream on, girl.

“Can I help?” Megan emerged from the adjoining family room at the back of the house, directly off the kitchen. Carly’s parents had built the addition when she was young as a private space for the family. Now Carly appreciated it more than ever, because it allowed her to keep an eye on her daughter while she worked in the kitchen.

“Of course you can. Care to set the table?”

“Okay.”

Carly opened the cupboard to grab the plates.

“Not those plates, Mommy.”

“What?” She glanced down at her daughter.

“We need the guest plates.” Meaning the china she used for the bed-and-breakfast. And this time of year, guests were predominantly limited to weekends.

“Sweetie, we don’t use those for regular meals.”

“This isn’t a regular meal. Mr. Andrew is company, so we need to eat in the dining room with the pretty dishes.”

Oh, to be a child again, when everything was so simple.

Lord, help me make it through tonight.

“Okay. Let me get them for you.”

They moved around the corner into the dining room, and Carly retrieved the dishes from atop her grandmother’s antique sideboard. Meat loaf on china. That’d be a first.

Leaving Megan in charge of the table, Carly returned to the kitchen to mash the potatoes. She pulled the butter and cream from the large stainless steel refrigerator.

“Which side do the forks go on?”

Closing the refrigerator door, Carly grinned, recalling how she used to help her mother and wondering if Megan would one day take over Granger House Inn. If so, she’d be the third generation to run the B and B. Not that she was in any hurry for her daughter to grow up. Carly was already lamenting Megan’s occasional usage of Mom instead of Mommy.

“On the left.”

A knock on the back door nearly had Carly dropping the dairy products she still held.

Megan must have heard it, too, because she raced past Carly and threw open the door.

Carly deposited the butter and cream on the counter and hurried behind her daughter. “Young lady, what have I told you about looking to see who it is before you open the door?” Not that there was much to worry about in Ouray. Still, a mother could never be too cautious in this day and age.

“Sorry.”

“Evening, ladies.” A smiling Andrew stepped inside, looking far too appealing. His hair was damp, and he smelled freshly showered.

Closing the door behind him, Carly eyed her flour-speckled jeans. Clearly he’d done more primping than she had. An observation that had her as curious as it did bothered.

“Welcome to our home.” Megan swept her arm through the air in a flourish.

“Thank you for inviting me.” He stooped to her daughter’s level. “This is for you.” He handed her a small brown paper gift bag with white tissue sticking out the top.

Megan’s eyes were wide. “For me?”

“Yep. And this one—” straightening, he turned his attention to Carly “—is for your mother.”

Carly’s heart tripped as she accepted the package. A hostess gift had been unexpected, but the fact that he’d thought of both of them had her reevaluating their guest. At least momentarily.

“Th-thank you.”

“Can I open it?” Megan looked as if she was about to explode with anticipation.

“Of course. What are you waiting for?” Andrew looked like a kid himself as he watched Megan pull out the tissue, followed by a small rectangular box. “My own cards!”

“Did my grandmother ever teach you how to play Hearts?”

“I don’t think so.” Megan eyed him seriously.

“Looks like I’ll have to carry on the tradition, then. Perhaps we can play a game after dinner.”