The Price of Passion (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags to Riches 1)

“It’ll be perfect, Gracie, because you and I will make sure of it. But we don’t have to do it today. The ball’s not until October, so we’ve got a little wiggle room. Enough, at least, for us to enjoy the rest of the day anyway.”

“You convinced me,” Gracie said, smiling. She picked up her hamburger and took a bite.

“That was easy.” Beth laughed, too, and bit into her own sandwich. When she’d swallowed, she asked, “So, did you get your Powerball ticket?”

Gracie grinned. “You bet. My mom always said if you don’t play, you can’t win. So I buy my ticket once a month, just like she always did—until she decided to save her money instead.” Laughing a little, she added, “If I win, I’m going to buy Mom a big house in Florida near her sister, and then I’m going to start up that event planning business I’ve always wanted.”

Beth sipped at her tea. “You know, I’m still willing to back you in that. If you won’t take money as a gift, we could call it a loan. Just enough to get you started.”

Gracie shook her head firmly. “Nope. Thank you though, Beth. I appreciate it. But I’m saving my money, and when I have enough, I’ll apply for a small business loan. I need to do it on my own. But once I’m open I may be ready for investors...” She grinned at that. “And maybe I’ll win the lottery!”

“God, you’re stubborn.” Beth laughed and picked up her sandwich again.

“That’s why we get along so well,” Gracie told her. “We have so much in common.”

Wryly she said, “Good point.”

For the next half hour, Beth didn’t think about Cam and what him being back in town might cost her.

* * *

Cam was still reeling from bumping into Beth at the bank. Hell, it had been ages since he’d seen her. He for damn sure hadn’t expected his body’s instant response to her, and there was no denying it, either. One look into her eyes, and he was back in the past, on hot summer nights, in the bed of his truck, lying on a blanket, tangled up with a naked Beth.

For years, he’d pushed those memories into a deep, dark hole in his mind. He had been married to Julie after all, and she was the one who had deserved his loyalty. They’d had a good marriage, he told himself. Together, they’d built a house-flipping business that had made them more money than either of them had dreamed possible. They’d been happy. Until Julie got sick. Then it had been doctors and hospitals and a fast slide to the end. In a matter of months, Cam had lost her

and any interest he might have had to keep their business going.

But with her gone, there was nothing to hold him in California, and the pull of his roots was too strong to fight.

Now he was back and he’d bought the ranch he and his parents had once worked on. The Circle K... “Have to change that,” he muttered, stepping out of his truck to stand and take a good look around.

The sun was hotter now, beating down on him until he thought that maybe Texas was planning on giving him a baptism of fire as a welcome home. The air was still, not a hint of wind to rustle the live oaks surrounding the ranch house.

He turned to look at the place and felt a stir of pride. Buying this ranch was satisfying in a way Cam hadn’t really expected. It was as if coming back to Royal was returning to Texas, but owning this place was coming home.

He’d only been back in town for a week, but this house... It was as if it had been waiting for him all these years. It needed fixing up, definitely some updates. The kitchen alone made him cringe and ready to grab a sledgehammer. And he had plans for expansion, too. Some of it he’d do himself, because fifteen years of being both entrepreneur and carpenter was hard to shake. But for most of what he wanted done, he’d already hired Olivia Turner and her construction company.

He leaned back against his brand-new gleaming black truck and took it all in. Two stories, the house was built of river stone, boasted a red tile roof, and its design successfully mixed Spanish and craftsman styles. There was a wide balcony around the second floor of the house and a wraparound porch on the ground floor.

The view from the front was a wide sweep of ranchland, the corral and, off to the side, a barn that was painted the rich, dark green of young meadow grass. There were outbuildings for the ranch hands, a bunkhouse and a separate house for the foreman, Henry Jordan and his family.

Cam’s plans to turn this place into a sort of working dude ranch meant that he’d need Olivia’s company to build a dozen cottages for guests and another stable for the extra horses he was going to have to buy. Which meant, he told himself, they’d also require more ranch hands, but he’d leave the hiring to Henry. He’d be working with them and knew practically every cowboy in Texas, so there was no point in Cam sticking his nose in. He was a big believer in delegating. Find the best person for the job and then get out of their way.

One day, Cam would think about making the house bigger because he wanted a family, eventually. He and Julie had tried, but things hadn’t worked out.

When his cell phone rang, Cam reached for it gratefully. He was willing to thank whoever it was taking him out of his own head for a while. He glanced at the screen, smiled and answered.

“Hi, Darren.”

“Hey, do you miss us yet?”

Cam laughed a little. Darren Casey was his partner in a home improvement line of products they’d started up four years ago. Darren had the manufacturing experience and Cam had his name and the fame he’d built as a house flipper.

He hadn’t been looking to be famous, just to make a good living. But, as word had spread about Cam and Julie’s gift for rehabbing houses, they’d earned sponsors, clients and, finally, their own show for two years on a home and garden network. Then Julie had gotten sick and...

Shrugging out of his suit jacket, he loosened his tie, undid the collar button on his shirt and wished desperately for the gray Stetson he’d left in the house that morning. He undid the cuffs on his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.

“That depends,” he answered, only half joking, “what’s the weather in Huntington Beach like?”