T he open house barreled down on Ford way too fast. With the snow, there was no way he’d get the road graded, and the office renovations had slowed to a snail’s pace.
His contractor wasn’t exactly cooperating. “Sam, I need you, not some assistant. Especially not a decorator….”
“Ford, there’s no way we’re doing major reno until spring thaw. The best thing you can do is have someone out to decorate the main barn that you want to make into the meeting area.”
“There are horses in there.”
“Then get them out.”
“I can’t just oust the horses.” Ford chewed his lower lip. “Okay, send your guy, and I’ll try to find him a space to work with.” They had at least one large cabin they could clean out for a day. There’d be, what, twenty people at once? Tops?
The biggest cabin would hold the open house crowd.
“Will do, buddy. See you soon.”
“Thanks, Sam.” Ford sighed, clicking off his phone. On the one hand, life amazed him. He and Stoney were relearning each other, and Ford liked the man so much more than he’d expected to. On the other, his clients were going to start hunting his ass, and if he’d thought New Mexico was the land of mañana, Santa Fe had nothing on the Roaring Fork, where nothing happened until spring….
Period.
Stoney spent an enormous amount of time looking at Ford’s marketing plans like they were albatrosses. Ford knew Stoney just didn’t believe a gay-friendly space would work, but Ford knew from living in Santa Fe that it was an idea whose time had come.
For the business and for the community. He was home, for the first time in memory, home, and he intended to stay here with his family.
Ford took a deep breath before heading to the office, where he found Geoff with Mira. “Miranda? Is cabin one occupied?”
“Oh, boss. We’ve got no one but that pair of lovebird x-sport fanatics in cabin six. I’m not sure they’re even still alive.”
“Should I toss in a carrot cake and see if they bite?” Geoff had gained this new obsession with vegan carrot cake, and had made a new recipe every day.
Ford was fairly sure the raw food one had been a crime against humanity.
Who made cream cheese frosting out of cashews? Blegh.
“Mmm. Just don’t toss it at me.” Miranda almost kept a straight face. Almost.
“Hey, the last one was good!” Geoff protested.
“Which would be why I never tasted it.” Miranda handed Ford the keys to cabin one. “Don’t book it until after the thing, right?”
“Right on. What about the spring? Are we still booking then?”
“We are, but if we need to renovate, we can rotate. Right now we just have two families booked. Regulars, and, uh, friendly, if not family.” Her cheeks heated, and Ford paused.
“Would it bother you? If we specialized in queer-friendly vacations?”
She shook her head. “No. No, I mean, I would worry that it would bother the clientele. I don’t want to lose my job.”
“No, of course not.” Ford nodded easily. “No one will lose their job, I promise.” If they failed miserably with his plan, well, he had a lot of investments he could cash in to keep them afloat until a new plan was in place.
“Cool. I’d love to have guests that weren’t here to shoot things.”
“Yeah. I mean, I grew up with the hunters.” Ford knew they were mostly great guys. Still, he really wanted to move in a different direction.
“Meat is murder!” Geoff proclaimed happily, and Ford was tempted to punch him in the nose. Still, it was good to see the guy feeling less… what? Depressed? Down, for sure.
“I want this place to become a destination. Friendly, safe, upscale.” Ford nodded and warmed to his topic. “Somewhere for weddings and honeymoons, team building, parties, and events for Aspen.”
Geoff clapped his hands together. “Oh, man. I can totally cook for that.”
Miranda bit her lip. “Stoney will still get to cowboy, right? And Angie and Tanner and Doc?”
“I want Stoney to have all the working ranch space he needs for his horses.” Ford knew how important that was now.
“Cool, because you know how the boss is. There’s never been a cowboy that needed a meal that was turned away.” Miranda wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t figured out.
“There wasn’t a cook that needed a job that was turned away either.”
“Just no more raw carrot cake, please?” Ford grinned. Yeah, Stoney was a sucker for anyone down on their luck, but then he’d been there, right? Ford intended to keep that tradition going. Even though he still wasn’t 100 percent sure why Stoney had been in a bad way back then.
Sometimes he felt completely out of step with the world. No one ever talked to him. He glanced at Mira. “Anyway, holler at me if anyone gives you crap about the cabin. Walk with me, Geoff.”
“Sure, boss.” Geoff twined their arms together and led him out to the covered walkway between the office and the main house.
“Okay, so I have to ask. Am I scary?” Ridiculous, maybe, but Geoff was so easy to ask this kind of shit.
“Scary as in serial killer or scary as in hideous beyond all reason? Because I got to say, that’s a strange thing to ask.”
He glared sideways. “Scary as in intolerant bastard who doesn’t get to know what’s going on in the family until it’s too late.”
“Can queer guys be intolerant?” Geoff teased, smiling at him before going serious. “This is about Brittany, huh?”
“So you know?” Did everyone?
“I’m her best friend’s brother, man.”
“Right. Wait. Wait. I thought….”
Geoff opened the kitchen door and pulled him into the warmth. “You thought what? That I was one of Stoney’s rescues? I am. Stoney found me on my way out of town beat half to death. He didn’t know me from Adam, and once he knew, he didn’t give a shit. He didn’t care I was gay, didn’t care that my folks live on a clothes-optional, technology is the devil commune. Nothing. Once you find a place that loves you, you stay.”
Ford nodded, but he wasn’t sure he got it. Maybe that was it; maybe he was impossible to love. God, he was maudlin. “Yeah. I never thought I was that tough to talk to, is all.”
“Right. Sit. This discussion requires tea.”
They hit the kitchen, and Ford sat dutifully, folding his hands on the table to keep from fidgeting.
The kettle went on, tea bags plunked into mugs and cookies placed on little china plates. Honestly, Geoff was too precious for words.
Geoff sat across from him, waiting for the kettle, clearly, because no one began talking.
He let one eyebrow lift. Seriously, did everyone learn this quiet game from Stoney? He knew it wasn’t genetically ingrained in the people from the Roaring Fork, because Ford could talk with the best of them.
Geoff still just kept quiet until the kettle whistled and the water was poured. “So, Brittany met this guy on a rafting trip, and they had a hot and heavy fling, which was great until it was time for him to go home to his wife and his job in DC.”
Ford’s eyes went wide. A politician? That didn’t seem like Brit. Not at all. Not because the guy was wealthy, but because a Washington politician had to be older than God to a seventeen-year-old Brittany.
“Yeah. Well, think of the drama when she comes up pregnant. There’s the freaking out, there’s the whole publicity thing, and the man’s wife? Desiree says there were Mafia connections. Now who knows what of the whole thing is true, right? They were teenagers. So was I. Maybe Brit was sleeping with some other guide and was too embarrassed to tell the truth. But she comes to Ty, and Ty went to Stoney, asking for a favor. Just put his name on the birth certificate. No one wants any money. No one wants anything but a name for this little one.”
“Okay. I mean, I can see that, right? And I know this is making it all about me, but why not tell me when Brit died?” He could see Ty not wanting his still-in-law-school, crusading, liberal nephew involved if there was a GOP jerk that could screw up Ford’s career involved, but after….
“Honestly? Ty shut down. He fell into the bottle for two years and didn’t come out of the house. When he finally did sober up, Stoney had a two-and-a-half-year-old living in the bunkhouse and calling him daddy. Shame can make people do weird shit.”
Ford sat back and thought on that while Geoff sipped tea. That was—well, it made as much sense as anything, even if it was ridiculous. Wasn’t shame half the reason he’d stayed away from the ranch as long as he had?
And what about Stoney? Just raising this little boy, no questions asked, no hesitation? He’d been little more than a kid himself, and he’d manned up and been the responsible one. Sure, he’d ended up with half the ranch, but Christ, Stoney had earned every acre.
The sound of a sleek engine outside made Geoff start, but Ford just rolled his eyes. “Designer. Can you believe that’s what Sam sends me?”
“She’s got to be pretty studly, though, to drive up here in this crap. Lots of folks wouldn’t.”
“Yeah. Well, this is Colorado.” He winked. “Thanks for the tea. You gave me food for thought too.”
“That’s my job. Feeding the world.”
“Yep. Thanks, Geoff. Can you make sure there’s more tea and shit for her after the tour?” He headed outside again, the cold stealing his breath.
He had to admit it was beautiful, though. The guys had the lights hung before the blizzard and now they shone and sparkled.
The sleek little SUV crossover also sparkled, and the man—not a woman—who stepped out of it was pretty flashy as well. And familiar.
“Ford! You have no idea how thrilled I am to get this assignment.”
“Andy. Hey. Surprise, surprise.” Hell, he didn’t think Andy ever left Aspen. Damn.
“I know, right? It’s like fate. God, this place hasn’t changed in fifty years, has it? So very… rustic.”
“I like the rustic.” Ford knew if he was going to work with Andy, he had to start out like he could hold out and be damned firm. “I want to keep that feel but make it more luxe.”
“Right. Tell me all your thoughts and plans.”
Ford jerked his head toward the house. “Come sit in the office with me, and I’ll run it down for you.” There was no way he’d use Andy for the whole project. Sam had no idea they had a history, he was sure, but he just didn’t trust Andy not to go all crazy on his ass.
For this one party, Andy would be great.
They headed into the main house through the foyer. Quartz was out riding snowmobiles with his dad this morning, checking fence, so there was no reason to wait on his partner.
“Have a sit,” Ford said, indicating the chair across from his desk. All of Ty’s paperwork was finally filed, the bookshelves filled with Ford’s law books, the art on the walls his collection of Leland Holiday animals.
It was starting to feel like his home, especially now that one of Quartz’s Ferris wheels sat on the floor next to his desk.
“How cute!” Andy exclaimed. “You do models for stress?”
“No, this is my nephew Quartz’s work.”
“Oh, he’s talented. How old is he?”
“Nine.” Young enough to be adorable, old enough to be a handful. Ford loved him almost as much as he loved Quartz’s dad.
“Wow.” Andy settled back in his chair. “So, spill. Tell me what you’re imagining.”
“What I need right now is a space to do an open house. I have a large cabin that has an open plan and a kitchenette, but I’ll need solutions for parking and getting people from the office to the cabin, as well as a quick decor scheme that really illustrates what I want here.” Ford studied Andy intently. Still really attractive with his pale hair and blue eyes, but he did nothing for Ford at all.
There had always been a wickedness in Andy, and five years ago, he’d found it clever and sexy. Now, he didn’t think he would.
He was getting soft.
“And your intended market?”
“I want to appeal to a wide range of clients, including the families we’ve always had in. I want to expand to a more inclusive audience, though.” Ford knew Andy would give him an honest opinion. “I want to make this an LGBT destination vacation.”
Andy tilted his head. “Really? I can see it—you make it luxurious and classy, tone down the hunter chic.”
“I want understated, though. Still a ranch. People can get slick B&B or hotel anywhere.” He wanted comfort, wanted the cowboys to feel at home.
“So, for this party, do you want sparkles? More down home? Country Christmas a la Little House on the Prairie ?”
Ford stared at Andy, letting the silence draw out until Andy wiggled in his chair, cheeks heating. “I want greenery and understated sparkle. Think Jackson Hole meets Santa Fe. My chef, Geoff, will coordinate with you on his menu. After I show you the space, he’ll have tea for us.”
“Sounds good. How many people? Do I need to focus on standing or sitting space and are you having a band?”
“I don’t think there’s room for a band. This will be a lot of chamber members and such, so we need to have some seating for the ones who don’t get around so well.” Andy did know his job once it got down to brass tacks.
“Have you contacted the chamber? Gay Ski Week is right after Christmas. This would be one hell of a place to have a celebration….”
“No.” Heck yes. That was just the kind of lead building he hoped to achieve with this open house. “That’s a great idea.” Ford made a note in his planner. “Ready for the tour?”
“I am. I’m excited. You don’t mind if I take pictures, right?”
“As long as they’re just for the job. I don’t have releases for everyone for anything else.” He softened the words with a wink.
“I promise. This is just to make sure I remember the deets.”
“Cool.” The deets. God help him. He led Andy out to the cabin in question. Then he’d swing by the office with Mira before ending with Geoff.
The path to the cabin had been freshly shoveled and he made a mental note to say thank you to either Mira or Geoff or whoever.
The cabin was neat as a pin, and all the furniture was pushed back so Andy could get a good idea of the space. Someone had brownies hard at work.
Happy staff meant happy guests, wasn’t that Stoney’s position?
“Oh, this is nice.”
Ford tried not to get all pissed that Andy sounded surprised. He’d had an attitude adjustment since he’d been here too.
“I want this place to be a showstopper, you know? Somewhere worth spending money at.”
“I can see it. I can. It’ll take work, but I can completely see it.”
“Good deal.” He let Andy wander to take measurements and pictures, standing back so he could see the big picture. Ford knew that was his strength. This cabin needed a loft.
That would be a perfect place for a band, for a second bedroom, or a place for someone to dress for an event. Maybe they needed to hide the kitchenette. That wouldn’t be hard. Then they could really call it multiuse.
“…much work,” Andy was saying.
“Huh? Sorry.”
Andy chuckled, smoothing the front of his thin sweater where he’d unfastened his sleek ski jacket. “You have ideas. I can see the smoke. Talk to me.”
“Oh, not for the event. Just for later on.” Ford tried to relax; God knew he and Andy had always gotten along fine, so what was wrong with him? Well, there was that whole left him for a fifty-year-old sugar daddy thing, and Andy telling him he was staid and boring….
Still, now Andy seemed eager to work, to hear his ideas and plans, to listen to him, and for fuck’s sake, Andy was his target audience, right?
“You got all you need? You still need to see reception.”
“I do. I’m excited. There are so many options. Have you considered putting a loft in?”
“I was just thinking about that. Sam says no major reno until spring, though, so let’s work on plans for that later.”
“Right-o. Although if you hosted a ski fashion show for charity? Maybe a supper?”
“Huh. That sounds like a hoot.” Ford nodded, mind racing. “I can see that. I’ll talk to Sam.”
“Good deal. How cool is this? To remake this place into something high-end? I love it.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, warming to someone who could see his vision. “Now, the horse ranch factor still has to be workable. Top of the line. I’ll let Stoney deal with that, but it needs to be on your mind.”
“Are you planning a dude ranch type thing in the summers, or is this totally separate and we just need to gussy up the outside?”
“I think the ranch aspect is as important as the event destination. I mean, how many guys in Santa Fe have I heard say they wish there was a friendly dude ranch experience? No one will be kicking ass here, for sure.” The queer folks outnumbered the straight ones on the Leanin’ N.
“I love it. So we need functional and luxe, all wrapped up together with an Armani bow and a lovely white wine spritzer at the end.”
He tried to imagine Stoney with a spritzer in hand. The thought made him snort out loud. “You know I prefer a scotch and soda.”
“I do seem to remember that. Me? I’m a Bloody Mary type.”
“Spicy or not?” He knew the answer to that. Andy couldn’t do spicy.
“You’re a bitch.” Andy laughed, though, and Ford nodded, grinning. Yeah. Yeah, he sort of was.
He led the way to the office building, where they both stomped snow off their boots. “Miranda? Got another minute for me?”
“Sure, Ford.” Mira stood and held out her hand. “I’m Miranda, pleased to meet you.”
“Andy Archer. Pleasure. I’m working with Sam Styles, the contractor. How does this space function?” Andy pattered on, and Ford checked out a little, grabbing his phone to make sure he didn’t need to look in on either office.
Both offices’ staff were beginning to panic, and he was going to have to head into Santa Fe sooner than later. Dammit. He didn’t want to make the drive. Maybe he’d fly in.
Nah.
It was easier just to drive. He’d take the Interstate.
“We’ve lost him again,” Andy said.
“No. I mean yes. I need to call Eileen. I’m sorry. Miranda, can you point Andy toward Geoff and the kitchen?”
“Of course I can. We’re fine.”
He nodded to her and headed out to his office so he could make some arrangements. He had a few guilty moments leaving Mira with Andy, but they were both charming professionals.
Now, Geoff? He would make Andy nuts.
Was it evil that the thought made him cackle? Yeah, okay, it did, but damn. He loved his life right now.
He wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it once he got off the phone with the offices, but he’d take that chance.