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Authors: Ann Christopher
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shaky breath. “What’s your plan?”
“Well, I’m hoping you can check with some of your contacts. Maybe see if anyone’s looking to hire.”
“Charles, the economy is in the toilet. No one’s hiring.”
“I know. That’s why I need your help.”
She pulled the cell phone away from her ear and just stared at it, as though maybe it could explain what it would take for Charles to stand on his own two feet for once in his twenty-seven-year-old life. There were times, exactly like this, when she wished she could fling her cell phone into the field of rippling green grass by the road and leave Charles to find his own way in the world for once.
Why was it that every move he made only created more work and worry for her?
“I’ll see what I can do when I get back to New York,” she began. “I can email some contacts back in London and maybe ask—”
“Oh, I thought I mentioned that. I’m coming to New York. I want to work there.”
Every time she thought she’d become immune to the casual grenades Charles tossed her way, he surprised her by lobbing one from another direction.
“Charles, you can’t just up and work in America, for one thing,” she tried. “There are visa and permit requirements you have to meet. And plane tickets aren’t going to be much less than four or five hundred pounds, and we both know you don’t have that kind of money—”
“Actually, I do,” he said brightly. “When I canceled my classes, they gave me a tuition refund, and I used that for my flight.”
It took her a beat to scroll that back in her mind and make sure she’d heard correctly.
“That’s my money!” she shouted. So much for the driver not thinking she was a complete lunatic. “ I paid for your tuition!”
“Don’t worry about it.” His nonchalance was enough to make her blood pressure skyrocket. “I’ll pay you back as soon as you help me get a job.”
Chapter 8
H alf an hour later, the SUV rounded a bend, and there it was, stretched out on the banks of the Snake River: Judah Cross’s ranch. Sweet Heaven was carved on the gateway that let them through the split-rail fence to the log cabin.
A log cabin fit for an emperor.
Claudia gasped. Though she was more of a Parisian-spa type of girl and didn’t see the point of letting nature get too close, she’d done enough research about the ranch and knew enough about real estate in general to know when she saw a gem.
This was, unquestionably, a gem. The place was ten-thousand-ish square feet of chinked timbers, picture windows with river views from every conceivable angle, fieldstone fireplaces, decks and a dock. Mature pines framed the house, as though God had put them there only to accessorize this architectural masterpiece.
“Wow,” she breathed as the driver rolled the SUV to a stop under the covered archway at the foot of the stone steps leading to the massive front door. “Just...wow.”
“ Wow about covers it.” The driver hopped out, came around and opened the door for her. “We get wow a lot around here.”
“I’d be willing to put up with a few bears to live in a home like this,” she said, craning her neck and looking all around so she didn’t miss any detail of this exquisite setting.
“Most of us are.”
He grabbed her luggage from the trunk and the two of them walked to the front door, which was flung open just as they reached the top step. A woman appeared.
No, not a woman. A pixie.
With wispy blond hair that framed her adorable chipmunk cheeks, a cheerleader’s smile that flashed blindingly white teeth, dimples in alarming quantities and enormous eyes the exact blue of the Wyoming skies overhead, the woman had one of those age-resistant faces that looked about fifteen years old—sixteen at the most. This youthful effect was enhanced by her white yoga bodysuit and zero percent body fat, Claudia saw at a glance. She had a layer of orange scarves twined around her neck, and her five-toed athletic shoes were a
“Well, I’m hoping you can check with some of your contacts. Maybe see if anyone’s looking to hire.”
“Charles, the economy is in the toilet. No one’s hiring.”
“I know. That’s why I need your help.”
She pulled the cell phone away from her ear and just stared at it, as though maybe it could explain what it would take for Charles to stand on his own two feet for once in his twenty-seven-year-old life. There were times, exactly like this, when she wished she could fling her cell phone into the field of rippling green grass by the road and leave Charles to find his own way in the world for once.
Why was it that every move he made only created more work and worry for her?
“I’ll see what I can do when I get back to New York,” she began. “I can email some contacts back in London and maybe ask—”
“Oh, I thought I mentioned that. I’m coming to New York. I want to work there.”
Every time she thought she’d become immune to the casual grenades Charles tossed her way, he surprised her by lobbing one from another direction.
“Charles, you can’t just up and work in America, for one thing,” she tried. “There are visa and permit requirements you have to meet. And plane tickets aren’t going to be much less than four or five hundred pounds, and we both know you don’t have that kind of money—”
“Actually, I do,” he said brightly. “When I canceled my classes, they gave me a tuition refund, and I used that for my flight.”
It took her a beat to scroll that back in her mind and make sure she’d heard correctly.
“That’s my money!” she shouted. So much for the driver not thinking she was a complete lunatic. “ I paid for your tuition!”
“Don’t worry about it.” His nonchalance was enough to make her blood pressure skyrocket. “I’ll pay you back as soon as you help me get a job.”
Chapter 8
H alf an hour later, the SUV rounded a bend, and there it was, stretched out on the banks of the Snake River: Judah Cross’s ranch. Sweet Heaven was carved on the gateway that let them through the split-rail fence to the log cabin.
A log cabin fit for an emperor.
Claudia gasped. Though she was more of a Parisian-spa type of girl and didn’t see the point of letting nature get too close, she’d done enough research about the ranch and knew enough about real estate in general to know when she saw a gem.
This was, unquestionably, a gem. The place was ten-thousand-ish square feet of chinked timbers, picture windows with river views from every conceivable angle, fieldstone fireplaces, decks and a dock. Mature pines framed the house, as though God had put them there only to accessorize this architectural masterpiece.
“Wow,” she breathed as the driver rolled the SUV to a stop under the covered archway at the foot of the stone steps leading to the massive front door. “Just...wow.”
“ Wow about covers it.” The driver hopped out, came around and opened the door for her. “We get wow a lot around here.”
“I’d be willing to put up with a few bears to live in a home like this,” she said, craning her neck and looking all around so she didn’t miss any detail of this exquisite setting.
“Most of us are.”
He grabbed her luggage from the trunk and the two of them walked to the front door, which was flung open just as they reached the top step. A woman appeared.
No, not a woman. A pixie.
With wispy blond hair that framed her adorable chipmunk cheeks, a cheerleader’s smile that flashed blindingly white teeth, dimples in alarming quantities and enormous eyes the exact blue of the Wyoming skies overhead, the woman had one of those age-resistant faces that looked about fifteen years old—sixteen at the most. This youthful effect was enhanced by her white yoga bodysuit and zero percent body fat, Claudia saw at a glance. She had a layer of orange scarves twined around her neck, and her five-toed athletic shoes were a
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