The Texan's Second Chance

“Get ready, boss. I’m about to grill your socks off.”

Watching her work, watching her move and test and turn and putter around the tiny kitchen, Witt believed her.

Chapter Two

“I’ve got to admit, it was incredible,” Witt told Gunner and Ellie as he had dinner with them back out at the ranch forty miles northwest of Austin. “It was just like she said—a basic burger perfectly done. Charred just enough around the edges, the cheese at the perfect point of melting, mustard with just a bit of kick—everything.” His mouth salivated just at the memory of the burger. If he could convince her to try just a few trendy items, go just a little beyond the basics, they’d be a hit for sure.

“I knew she’d be great,” Ellie gloated. “Sure, she’s an unknown now, but she won’t stay that way.”

“A pretty girl who can grill a great burger?” Gunner remarked. “Guys will line up around the block.”

Ellie nudged him in reply. “Whoa there, brother. That’s a rather sexist remark for a married man with a daughter and a new son. You make sure you teach Trey and Audie that it’s what a woman does, not how she looks, that matters.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Or Aunt Ellie will come over there and do it for you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gunner nodded with a smile. “But come on, you can’t argue that Jana adds to the appeal. Working a food truck, she needs to be as much saleswoman as chef. I know you’re the one working the PR campaign, Witt, but folks have to like whoever’s behind the counter.”

“She can sell, I’m sure of it,” Witt agreed. “She’s easy to promote—I’m sure she looks great on camera, and that’s an asset.” Witt glanced over at Ellie. “Am I allowed to say that?”

“Yes, you’re allowed to say that,” Gunner answered before Ellie could. Sometimes the brother-sister tension with those two ran a bit strong. Gunner was clearly the boss—and always had been—but Ellie wasn’t shy about asserting herself.

“You’re right there. Jana’s got loads of personality. She’s the whole package,” Ellie said as she sat back. “And yes, I will admit, most of the servers and even lots of the corporate staff back in Atlanta thought she was a looker.” She pointed at Witt. “But that’s not why we hired her. We hired her for her skills.”

“Yes, we did,” Witt agreed, the sensation of the perfectly melted cheese on his tongue still a vivid memory. Of course the food was the first priority. And he would have happily shared that tiny space with a burly guy who could cook as well as Jana. Still, any man with a pulse would concede that the scenery inside the Blue Thorn Burgers truck only added to the charm. “She has her share of opinions, too. And she isn’t shy about sharing them. Kind of like the other woman in this company.”

“Funny.” Ellie gave Witt a look as she took another biscuit from the plate at the center of the table. “Did you have discussions, debates, or full-out arguments?”

“All three, I think, but it was okay. More like creative tension.” He didn’t mind being challenged if it led to better ideas and stronger business practices in the end. And he had a feeling most of Jana’s ideas would be good ones. If they could strike a good working partnership, everything would work out fine. He was going to make this work, no matter what it took.

“Jana will take another couple of days to get the truck up and running, I’ll hire one or two support workers...”

“Like Jose?” Ellie cut in. She’d insisted Witt hire one of the high school kids she and her fiancé, Nash, had met while running an after-school program for local at-risk teens. Ellie and Gunner cared a lot about what they did and how they did it. The Blue Thorn Ranch was about much more than the bottom line, which was what made it so satisfying to work with them.

“Like Jose,” Witt replied. “I think he’s coming down tomorrow. Are you sure the kid is okay staying with his brother down in the city? I mean, I’m all for giving kids opportunities, but a start-up food truck is going to call for long hours and hard work. Jose knows it won’t be like some episode of a Food Network show, doesn’t he?”

“Jose will be great,” Gunner confirmed. “That kid’s not one bit afraid of hard work. He’s really grown up since graduation. I’d hire him on the ranch if we had work for him.”

Despite Blue Thorn’s long history, most of the recent changes—converting it into a bison ranch and expanding Blue Thorn Enterprises—made it feel more like a start-up. Blue Thorn had run into some difficult times in the past few years under Gunner and Ellie’s father, but the new generation of Bucktons were working hard to right the ship. It had its stresses, but Witt found it far more satisfying than the situation he’d left behind at home, watching his role at Star Beef get chiseled down to nothing by his sister and her ambitious new husband. Business was booming, as it had been for years, but he didn’t feel wanted or accepted. And this was still family, after all—Witt’s dad had been brother to Ellie and Gunner’s father, Gunner Senior. This opportunity with his cousins at Blue Thorn had been an answer to his prayer, a place to show the world what he could do at a time when he was feeling truly stalled.

“If the food truck is successful, we could think of other mobile ventures,” Ellie added. “I know of at least one yarn company that has a mobile store just like a food truck. We could do that here, you know.”

“One expansion at a time, Els,” Gunner said as he rolled his eyes. He turned to Witt. “The truck’s own website and all that stuff is nearly ready?”

“It links right up with the ranch and store sites,” Witt answered. Ellie did all the public relations for the consumer side, and the wholesale piece had been up and fully running without a hitch. “Two-thirds of your customers have converted to the online ordering system, and I’ll be visiting the rest after we get the truck settled in. We’re ready.”

“And the social media? Twitter, Facebook, Insta-whatever, all that stuff?” Gunner asked.

“Instagram. Yes, we’ll be hitting all that at full speed as soon as Jana gives the all clear,” Ellie explained. “And Jose said he’d help, too. That kid would cut off his own arm before he’d put down his cell phone.”

“We agreed—after a lively discussion, mind you—on a soft opening,” Witt went on. “Showing up unannounced at a variety of places until we both are sure the product and the system are perfect.”

“How close are you?” Gunner asked.

Witt took another biscuit himself. “That depends on who you ask. There was some debate—” he gave the word emphasis as he looked at Ellie “—as to the merits of long lines.”

“Long lines?” Gunner questioned.

“I think long lines are great marketing. Makes you look like you’re in demand.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “And Jana?”

“She says a line can be long enough to put someone off. We settled on a goal of no more than six people waiting for the first two weeks, with an option to renegotiate.”

Ellie frowned. “I know you. You’ve calculated a burger-per-hour profit ratio, haven’t you?”

Witt stalled. “Well...maybe. We do need some benchmarks to shoot for. You can’t tell me you didn’t have goals like that back at GoodEats.”

Ellie’s expression told Witt just what she thought of such goals. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she said. “That woman knows her stuff. You’ve already arranged to shoot some photos and videos the first week, haven’t you? I predict Jana’s going to be a hit.”

“Like our burgers,” Gunner chimed in.

“Exactly like our burgers,” Witt agreed.

There was a pause in the conversation before Gunner shifted uncomfortably in his chair and said, “Your mom called.” He said it softly, slowly, which told Witt he knew exactly what the admission implied.

“No kidding.” Witt said. “Checking up on me now that I’ve jumped the family ship?”

“I told her you’d only jumped to a related shipping line. But yes.” Gunner ran a hand across his chin. “She said your dad asked a lot of questions.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“The truth,” Gunner replied. “I told her Star Beef’s loss was our gain. I told her I think Uncle Grayson will regret letting you leave.”

“I still don’t think he gets it,” Ellie offered with compassion in her eyes. They’d talked long and hard about his moving to Blue Thorn. Ellie knew what it was like to grow up with fathers like the Buckton brothers and how chilly it could be in the shadow of the Eldest and Heir. His sister Mary had always been the eldest, but Witt had always dared to think he was at least partial heir to the ranch until Mary’s high-powered husband, Cole Sullivan, entered the picture.

“Oh, I know. Dad thinks I ought to be thrilled to fall in line under Cole’s breathtaking five-year plan.” The bitterness in his own voice surprised him—Witt thought he’d made more peace with the issue than that. “It’s not a bad plan,” he admitted. “It’s just that I’m not anywhere in it.”

“Gran grabbed the phone out of my hand and gave your mom a piece of her mind,” Gunner said with a smirk.

“I’d like to have been there for that.” Witt could just picture Gran telling off her daughter-in-law. She’d have told off her son in stronger terms, come to think of it. Some days it was hard to imagine how two men as hardheaded as Gunner and Grayson Buckton had been the sons of the tender, caring woman all the cousins called Gran. Then again his grandmother Adele Buckton had a hard head and a stubborn will of her own to match her big heart—she just had the grace and compassion to be a lot more forgiving. “Gran will like Jana. They’re made of the same stuff, I think.”

“I agree,” Ellie said, leaning in. “Why don’t you invite her out to the house for a barbecue this weekend? She can meet the whole family. And see the bison.” She suddenly reached for her handbag, rummaging through it until she produced her cell phone. “Never mind, I’ll text her myself right now.” After a minute of furious typing, Ellie smiled. “Done. Six o’clock, Saturday night. Jana’s bringing coleslaw. You have not lived until you’ve tasted this woman’s coleslaw.”

* * *

Jana looked around the ranch Saturday night, taking in the scene spread out before her. She and Ellie were acquaintances—not good friends but friendly enough back when they’d worked together in Atlanta—but even though they hadn’t been especially close, Jana had heard a few stories about the legendary Buckton family. Nothing had prepared her for this.

“You know,” she said as she helped Ellie with a tablecloth, “I sort of get the whole color thing now.” She’d seen the Buckton blue eyes before, of course, but seeing Gunner, Ellie, Grandmother Adele and Witt all together in one place, the family trait stood out like a neon sign. She’d tried not to fixate on the stunning nature of Witt’s eyes, but with his hair—Gunner and Ellie had tawny-colored hair but Witt’s was a darker shade, closer to brown—they were extraordinary. It made her disobedient brown curls and brown eyes feel mundane.

“I hated my eyes growing up,” Ellie offered, shrugging. “Everywhere I went in town, everybody knew I was a Buckton, and I didn’t always think that was such a good thing. Now,” she said, her eyes straying to the man she’d introduced as her fiancé, “I find myself hoping that when Nash and I have kids, the blue shows up. At least in some of them.”

“I’m glad it all worked out so well for you,” Jana said. She remembered how worried she’d been about Ellie when she’d heard about the woman’s spectacular breakup with star chef Derek Harding. Not that Jana blamed her—if she’d caught her own fiancé kissing her best friend, she didn’t know what she would have done. At least Ellie had had a place to go—back home to Blue Thorn. And it was Ellie’s exodus from the trauma that she had to thank for the chance to meet Nash.

Jana was glad to make her own exodus away from Atlanta and the painful memories of Ronnie, even if it did mean leaving Mom behind. “I suppose I even owe my job to that happy outcome.”

“I hope you get a happy outcome of your own. I think you’ll do fabulously at the wheel of the Big Blue Bus.”

Jana balked. “The Big Blue Bus?”

“Oh, that’s just what my niece, Audie, called it the first time Witt brought it around. It sort of stuck. Don’t tell Witt—he hates the nickname. It’s the Blue Thorn Burgers truck—and maybe the first of many—as far as Witt’s concerned. Has big dreams, our Witt does. He can be a bit too driven, if you ask me, but I think he’ll settle down.”

The last thing I need right now is another overdriven male, Lord. Keep me safe out here, Jana prayed as she began walking around the table setting out plates—turquoise plates. She caught Witt’s eye when she first saw them. He shrugged as if to say, I know what you said about eating off blue plates, but what are you gonna do?

“Did you like the chef’s coat?” Ellie asked, planting a big blue jug of yellow flowers in the center of the table. See? Jana wanted to say to Witt. See how yellow balances all that blue out?

“I’ve been meaning to thank you,” Jana replied. “It’s perfect. Really, just the right touch. The embroidery, the female fit, everything.”

Ellie smiled. “You’re welcome. I didn’t want to leave that task to the boys. Who knows what you might have ended up wearing if I had?”

Dinner was a rowdy, pleasant family affair straight out of Country Living magazine. Gunner and his wife, Brooke, doted over their baby boy, the whole family making guesses as to whether one-month-old “Trey”—their nickname for Gunner Buckton III—would dare to have his mother’s brown eyes instead of the family blue. Jana declined to vote when asked by Audie, Brooke’s daughter, who adoringly called her stepfather “Gunnerdad.”

“You’re gonna drive the Big Blue Bus, aren’t you?” the girl whispered as she slid onto the picnic table bench beside Jana.

“I heard that,” Witt, seated across from her, teased with mock seriousness. Well, mostly mock.

Audie rolled her big brown eyes. “The food truck.”

“The Blue Thorn Burgers food truck,” he corrected as he reached for the big bowl of coleslaw Jana had brought. “Ellie says your coleslaw is out of this world. Based on your burgers, I’m inclined to believe her.”

“Do you like to cook?” Jana asked the little girl.

“I help Grannie Buckton with the cookies and brownies sometimes. I mostly like to draw, although Aunt Ellie taught me to knit and I like that, too.”

Jana smiled. “Your aunt Ellie would teach everyone to knit if she got the chance. She taught lots of people back where we worked in Atlanta.”

Audie scooped out a big helping of the coleslaw when Witt handed her the bowl. “Did she teach you, Miss Jana?”

“I haven’t had time to learn yet. Besides, I’m not much for sitting down. I stand most of my day at work, and I like to run when I have free time.” She threw a quick glance at Witt. “I’m thinking I won’t have a lot of free time for a while.”

“You can stand while you spin with a drop spindle. Aunt Ellie taught me that, too. I can show you after dinner if you like. We use the bison fur to make the yarn you can buy at our store in town.”

Jana laughed. “I see you have your cousin Witt’s gift for public relations and persuasion.”

Audie’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s what Gunnerdad says.”

“Chef Jana’s food is really good,” Witt added. “Ellie was dead on about the coleslaw. What’s in there to give it that...” he searched for a word “...zing?”

It never got old hearing people praise her food. She gave Witt a sly smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Secret family recipe?”

“Secret Jana recipe. I don’t come from a cooking family.” She didn’t come from much family at all—divorced parents, an only child, no strong connections to aunts or uncles, no living grandparents. Yet when Jana discovered cooking through a high school class, the kitchen became the place where she felt most at home. Any kitchen where she could make her food. This whole big-family dynamic felt like a foreign country to her.

“You didn’t eat in your family?” Audie asked, eyes wide.

Jana grinned at the girl. Looking around at the crowded table heaped with food, Audie must have found the concept impossible. “I didn’t mean it that way. The people in my family cooked to feed themselves, but not much more.” She picked up a piece of cornbread and held it up. “To me, cooking is art and science. It’s a gift and an experience for people to share. I’m happiest when I make meals for people. Meals that make them smile and marvel and delight in the pleasure of great food.”

“I like food,” Audie replied. “And Cousin Witt’s right—this is really good. If I were a cabbage, I’d be happy to be in this coleslaw.”

Jana couldn’t help but smile. “Well, that’s about the best review I’ve ever had. Maybe we should post that on the side of the Big Blue Bus. ‘Our coleslaw makes cabbages happy.’” She raised an eyebrow in challenge to Witt.

His eyes slanted. “How about we just tweet that one? By the way, we’ve got a photographer scheduled on Wednesday to take some shots of you and the truck. Promo stuff. You okay with that?”

Jana tried not to stiffen. Yes, it had been years since she’d had to deal with Ronnie and his harassment, but the fear remained, and the instinct to hide, to avoid putting her face or her name out there in a public way that might draw his attention again. “I’m not one for photos. Take all you want of the food or the truck, but skip the ones of me if it’s all the same to you.”

“Nonsense. We need at least a few shots of you. The pretty woman behind the burger grill? You’re one of our best marketing hooks. We’ll need three or four shots we can use. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

Jana tried to stifle her reluctance to being anyone’s “hook” with the compliment he’d just paid her. It didn’t work. “One.”

“Two?”

“You’re the prettiest chef I’ve ever seen,” Audie offered, oblivious to the tension. “I think everyone should see your picture.”

Jana tried to sigh rather than scowl. “Thank you, Audie, but I’m not big on publicity. I’d rather let my food get all the attention.”

“So Wednesday’s okay?”

It annoyed her how much he pressed the point, but she wasn’t going to win this one. Not when surrounded by Bucktons. “Yes, Wednesday will be fine.”

Chapter Three

Tuesday afternoon, Witt looked around at the full trash can and the truck’s empty cupboards. “I think that went pretty well.” They’d set up unannounced outside a group of office buildings at lunch hour, launching a two-hour “test run” to see how things worked.

“It could have gone better.” Jana sat with her legs dangling out of the truck’s open back door, her chef’s coat unbuttoned to reveal a bright orange T-shirt, and a big mug of coffee in her hand. She wore a bright yellow scarf like a headband in a failing attempt to control the wild curls that kept escaping her piled-up hairstyle. Jana’s hair held a troublesome fascination for him—the curls seemed to have a mind of their own, framing her face in a different way every time he looked at her. Right now they were plastered to her neck in a maze of circles that should have looked messy and sweaty but instead looked more mesmerizing than he would like to admit.

“Did you see how those guys ate your food?” Jose asked as he finished loading trash into a plastic bag. “You were a hit, Chef Jana.” While Witt had harbored some doubts about Jose as kitchen help—the kid wasn’t even six months out of high school—the boy had proven a hearty worker. He also spoke Spanish, which ended up being very useful with some of the office workers and many of the landscape workers from the park across the street. “I heard ‘delicioso’ more times than I can count.”

“The lines were too long. We need to streamline the prep process a bit.” Jana squinted one eye in thought, as if already pondering tactics in her mind.

“No, no—the lines were great,” Witt countered as he popped open a soda can and offered a second to Jose. “Lines let people know Blue Thorn Burgers are worth waiting for. Didn’t we agree six people in line was okay?”

“For the first two weeks,” she reminded him. “And we had more than six a lot of the time.”

“That’s not so bad, is it? This is our first real operational test.”

Jana wasn’t convinced. “Any more than six, and a customer’s got too much time to change their mind.” She swirled the last of her coffee and then drained the cup. “I think we can speed things up, though I have to admit, you were pretty fast at the cash register there, cowboy.”

Working the register was the easiest way to track their sales per hour, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “That’s me, master button-pusher.” He sat down next to Jana. “I worked the counter at the local hardware store through high school. I work the counter at the Blue Thorn Store every now and again, too, just to get a feel for the customers. I was watching the customers today.”

“I’d expect no less of you.” It wasn’t quite a jab, but close. “And what did you get a feel for?” She sat back against the door frame, defensive but clearly curious.

“I think we need a few more things to appeal to female customers.”

That brought a look from her. “Watching the ladies, were you?”

“Watching the ladies eat, actually. The burgers seem too big for them. I was thinking maybe we need sliders.”

Her head tilted dubiously to one side. “Sliders are trendy.” It wasn’t a compliment.

“Sliders are smaller, easier to handle. Same basic food, just a slightly different delivery. A plate of three sliders and slaw would sell well. We could play up the low-fat health benefits of bison meat, too. Do a two-slider or one-slider version as a kid’s meal, even.”

“Whatever you do, don’t mess with the fries,” Jose remarked as he leaned against the open door. “Those are awesome. What is that you put on them?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jana teased. Hadn’t she said the same thing to Ellie’s inquiry of her coleslaw recipe? “Seasonings are my thing. It’s what makes good, simple food great.”

Jose preened the collar of his shirt. “I like a lady who knows how to be spicy.”

Jana tossed a dishrag at the boy. “Every once in a while I forget you are a teenager—and then you remind me. I’ll have none of that in my kitchen.”

“Okay, okay.” Jose held up his hands.

“Yes, Chef,” Witt corrected.

“Yes, Chef,” Jose relented.

Witt turned to Jana. “You’re all set for tomorrow’s photo shoot?”

Her eyes lost any sparkle. “I suppose.”

“You act like I’m making you go to the dentist.” With Jana’s natural beauty, Witt couldn’t imagine what would make her shy away from cameras.

“It’s not my thing, that’s all. Like I said, I prefer to let my food do the talking.”

“I get that, but people connect to people as much as they do to food. The way you look, the way you talk about food, the connection you make with customers? All that is just as compelling as a great burger. You’re highly promotable, Jana. That’s a good thing. It’s a strength we can use.”

“That’s marketing talk for ‘you’re pretty and guys’ll like you,’” Jose said.

Jana gave Witt a dark look. “Is it?”

Witt knew this was thin ice, but he did want to get his point across. “Not in the way Jose thinks.”

“So how does Witt think?”

Witt searched for the right words to compliment her beauty without insulting her talent. “You’re unique. You don’t look anything like the other guys hawking burgers around here. You are a beautiful woman and I’d like to think we can use that without getting stupid or exploitive about it. The fact is you look as good as you cook. Why can’t that be a strength we can build on?”

“My man’s got a point,” Jose said as he leaned up against the truck door.

My man? Witt threw Jose a “don’t get cocky” glare.

“Look, I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I don’t want to cross any lines here. But the truth is that I can promote you just as easily as I can promote the food—maybe even easier. You make us unique in a way that people can see even before they taste your cooking.”