Serendipity Ranch (3 page)

The property alert rang and Preston waited as the first applicant drove into the enclosure in a small Honda. The wide girthed man waddled out from the small car and presented a sweaty, hot handshake. Preston escorted him into the work trailer, wiping his hand on the back of his jeans with a shudder. He introduced the man to Sara and informed him that she would be the primary designer and to speak up if he had difficulties following her suggestions. The man was gone within ten minutes.

“One down, two to go.” Preston said cheerfully.

“What if they all are like that? He didn’t even want to hear my ideas.”

“We’ll find someone, baby. Don’t you worry about that. The right person will come.”

The second man made Preston’s eyes widen. He was slender, dressed in bright purple and yellow striped pants, and his face as pale as a newly laid egg. His handshake was limp, and he winced at Preston’s grip. He fawned over Sara’s blueprints, praising the ‘little girl’ on such a wonderful imagination with a thick, undeterminable accent. Sara frowned, eyeing her uncle.

“I want to put a swimming pool in the middle of the living room so we don’t have to go outside when it’s hot,” she said suspiciously. “We could watch TV, too.”

“Of course, of course! How wonderfully inventive! Whatever the little girl wants, we can do!”

“What I want is an honest answer. My idea was stupid and impractical. Sorry, Uncle Preston, but no. I can't work with someone so wishy-washy.”

“You heard the little girl. Thank you for coming.”

A string of curses were heard as the odd little man left, making Preston laugh. “Two down, little girl. Swimming pool in the living room? Good test.”

“You taught me well, Uncle P. Was that the bell?”

“I guess the last one is early. I—oh, what do I see here?” Preston asked, watching as the bright yellow car drove through the gate. Preston crossed his arms, watching as the beautiful young woman exited the vehicle, dressed in a business suit with her long black hair pinned up in a bun. She carried a briefcase and wore, of all things, high heels!

Serena’s eyes widened as she recognized the large, black F-450 parked in front of the 45’ Class A motorhome. She then looked at the tall, broad-shouldered man who stared at her with his arms crossed. The “old fart” was neither old nor “fart-like”. He was drop-dead gorgeous, in a rugged sort of way, in his early 30’s, with dark, wavy hair and long lashes that framed whiskey gold eyes. She swallowed nervously at his disapprovingly look, realizing he must have recognized her car from the mountain. Of all the luck! Once again, the name
Serendipity
haunted her.

“How do you do? I’m Serena Mitchell,” she forced a smile and extended her hand. The warm, firm response sent tingles down her spine.

“Preston Riley. I apologize for not moving up the mountain fast enough for you yesterday. Did you manage to reach your destination in timely manner, Miss Mitchell?”

“About that, I apologize. I had to go to the bathroom and you weren’t pulling over as is customary in these parts,” Serena lied, blushing as he continued to hold her hand firmly in his rock-hard mitt.

“Next time, go before you get on the road. You could have killed all of us, young lady,” Preston said firmly, his eyes sending warnings as he gazed down on her tiny 5’3” frame. “This is my niece, Sara. She’s the primary designer for this project and will be conducting the majority of your interview.”

“You designed this?” Serena asked with genuine admiration, glancing at the layout of the work already completed. “You’re making an eco-efficient structure, taking advantage of the natural light and heat sources, aren’t you?” Serena was impressed.

“Yes, and making it unique as well,” Sara said proudly. “It’s not just a house, it’s a piece of art. Uncle Preston has certain preferences that I incorporated into the design to make it wholly his.”

“Fascinating! Can I see the blueprints?”

Preston watched the beautiful young woman follow Sara into the work trailer, completely ignoring his presence. He glanced at the border collies. “How is it that females manage to turn the tide and make things my fault? I didn’t pull over. There was nowhere to pull over except off the side of the cliff!” The dogs just tilted their heads and wagged their tails.

The two girls were pouring over the blueprints, discussing Sara’s ideas and specifications. Preston listened carefully as Serena acknowledged the child’s thoughts and then rerouted them to be more efficient.
Brilliant
, he thought,
incorporate instead of change. Hmmm
.

“It appears Sara approves of you, Miss Mitchell. I, however, have some questions of my own. Sara? Would you please excuse us?”

Sara smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “I like her, Uncle P. Ask her out.”

“Get your hiney out of here, you brat.” Preston whispered back. With a giggle, the child was gone. He turned to study the woman in front of him, noticing her discomfort.

“Are you going to just sit there and undress me mentally?” Serena snapped.

“You have quite the temper, Miss Mitchell. And the ego. I was simply admiring your finesse as either a consummate liar or a desperate woman. Which is it?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Riley.”

“No? Ok, let’s start here.” Preston opened the leather portfolio that Serena had placed on the table. He thumbed through several pages, studying the photos and sketches. He had read her resume and followed his hunch, despite her lack of experience. Raising an eyebrow, he pointed to one house. “You’re telling me that you built this?”

“I am. It took me three years. Every millimeter is perfect to scale.” Serena gazed proudly at the model of her “dream house”. It had been the piece that won her the scholarship to complete her master’s degree in architectural engineering and design. Preston grunted, flipping through the photos until one caught his eye.

“Explain this one.”

“Nothing to explain. I was hired last year to design a theme based on the ideas of an interior decorator with really poor taste. This was for a Radisson ballroom. Not something I’m particularly proud of, but it’s the most recent I have.”

“So you
are
a desperate woman. You seem to be reasonably talented, Miss Mitchell, so why can’t you land a job?”

“You are incredibly rude, Mr. Riley. Am I hired or not? I can get a crew together in less than a week and get this place up before the holidays.”

“Give me one good reason why I should hire a new grad who has done nothing but copy ideas from others’ work and tweaked it in the attempt to pass it off as her own?” Preston asked, crossing his long, jean clad leg over his knee and leaning back to watch her expression.

“I beg your pardon?!” Serena shouted, standing.

“Sit down, Miss Mitchell. And yes, you may beg, but I doubt it will get you very far. Do these names ring a bell?” Preston started rattling off the names of different architects as he thumbed through the pages of her portfolio, pointing to structures and sketches. Serena turned bright red, wanting to sink under the small table at which she sat. “Nothing to say? My, this must be a first. Good day, Miss Mitchell,” he stood to see her out.

Serena gathered her stuff and paused, finally looking up at him with tears in her blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Riley. All I have that’s truly mine is this model and that horrid ballroom. I’ve tried to get work, but no one will hire me because of my lack of experience. I’m begging you. Please, I need this job.”

“No, what you need is a good, old fashioned spanking,” Preston grumped, leaning against the wall, arms still crossed as he looked at her. She blushed again before facing the floor. “Damn it. Why not? I’ve got a ten year old designing this place to give her experience, I might as well let you learn too. Just make sure my niece does not get injured.”

“Oh, Mr. Riley, thank you! I promise, you won’t regret it.”

“I’m regretting it already. I will promise you this, though. If I ever see you driving the mountain like you did yesterday, I’ll make sure you won’t be sitting on that bottom for a week. Got it?”

Serena ignored him and stretched out her hand. “Thank you again. I’ll call a crew together and resume construction within the next couple of days. Do you have an interior decorator in mind?”

“Yes, my sister is going to handle that. You’ll meet her when the project is done.” Preston stated, suppressing a smile. Jane was going to rip this little girl a new one when she heard Serena Mitchell’s opinion of one of Janie’s most acclaimed projects. “Might I offer a small suggestion regarding your work attire? Drop the suit and wear jeans or shorts. Suits are not at all practical out here.”

“Very well. I will be back tomorrow to go over some things with Sara, if that’s all right.”

“She’s the foreman, check with her.”

Preston watched as the woman picked her way to the corral, trying to avoid tripping over her high heels. She stumbled once, making Preston wince, but she recovered quickly and waved to Sara. The border collies jumped on her skirt with muddy paws, and the heel broke off her shoe. Curious, Preston waited to see how she would handle things.

Serena laughed as she scolded the waggling dogs, then brushed off her skirt and kicked the shoes off her feet. She hugged Sara goodbye and walked easily to her car, unbothered by the gravel and hot pavement. Preston chuckled. So the little wench was used to running around barefoot and being with animals. Good, because tomorrow she would get to meet the whole clan.

* * *

“So? Did you get it?” Drew asked, handing Serena a bottle of water as he met her at the door.

She nodded, stripping down to her camisole and slip as she walked to her room. “I did. I start reviewing the plans tomorrow. Do you think you can get the crew together for me to start Monday?”

“One call and they’ll be there right now. Are you going to manage or do you need a foreman?”

“I’ll do it. I need to prove myself to this guy. He busted my portfolio, Drew.”

“Oh, shit. I warned you that could happen.”

“I never thought some rich cowboy from Wyoming with an IQ of lint would know the names and works of modern architects. His niece, though… That kid has talent. It’s cool he’s doing this to help her.”

“Wyoming? I met a rancher yesterday who just moved down here. Black F-450, border collies and goats.”

“Same jack-ass. Preston Riley. At least I won’t have to work with him directly.”

“Mind if I offer some advice, Ser? He just bought the Barrett House Ranch and will be rebuilding it into a dude ranch for herding trials. That’s a project that could make your career.”

“He BOUGHT the ranch? Old man Simpson actually agreed to sell it to some stranger from out of town? Holy cow. I know that old place has been abandoned for decades, but the land is worth a fortune. He’s already got a budget of several million for this little mountain house of his.” Serena sunk into a chair, unable to grasp the type of money this Wyoming cowboy was rolling in.

“Guess you landed yourself a rich boss. Don’t screw this up, girl, and control your temper. You’re getting a big opportunity here, and I don’t want to see you blow it because you insist on sharing your opinion.”

“You’re an asshole, Drew.”

“I rest my case. Now might be the time to stop with the insults.”

“Well, now might be the time for you to become a missing person and get out of my face. He’s the kind of man that someone could use as a blueprint to build an idiot. I’m not worried about him even beginning to understand the fact that I insult him.”

“Be careful, little cousin. I wouldn’t underestimate him if I were you.”

Serena flipped him off and then headed out to the small barn located on her cousin’s property. She was surrounded by a litter of kittens and Greta, her African goose. The honking was deafening as she squatted to pet the bird’s gray neck and tickle the four week old kittens. Snorting filled her ears and she stood to reach her hand out for Casba, her white Arabian mare.

“Wanna hit the trail, girl? I’m in the mood for a ride,” Serena stated, slipping a bridle over the horse’s head and hauling herself up onto the animal’s back, sans saddle. She trotted across the front yard and headed down the trail, quietly looking over the valley and towards the mountain where Preston was building his home. She could see the fake trees lining the outside road, but the house was completely invisible to the onlooker. Smart kid, that Sara. She managed to give him his privacy as he looked over the valley like the king of Jamul. Arrogant jerk, how dare he call me on the table? Okay, she lied and was busted. It still amazed her that he knew the work. She suspected there was more to him than a bank full of dollars and a head full of pennies.

She wasn’t paying attention when Casba suddenly reared up and threw her into the brush. The horse fell backwards, rolled over, and then galloped away. Limping painfully, Serena walked back to the house and was greeted by a worried Drew.

“Are you okay? The horse came back without you.”

“Bruised, but fine. How is she?” Serena asked, rubbing the back of her upper right thigh.

“Limping pretty bad on the left hock. Snake?”

“Probably. Damn it, Drew. I can’t afford a vet right now. What if she’s really hurt?” Serena asked tearfully as she ran her hand down the horse’s trembling leg. “Do you have any equine supplies at your place so maybe we can wrap her?”

“Nah, I don’t carry that. I could go down to the place over on Campo road and look. Maybe your new boss has something. You said he’s really into animals.” Drew asked slyly, hiding his knowledge of Preston’s profession.

“I’m desperate enough to ask. My poor girl, shhh.” Serena said, stroking the horse’s neck as she dialed her cell phone. Preston answered, his low voice a soft rumble in her ear. “Mr. Riley? It’s Serena Mitchell. I’m sorry to disturb you, but my horse took a bad spill and is limping. Do you have any Coban wrapping I can borrow to brace her leg?”

“Where do you live? I’m on my way.”

“That’s not necessary, I–”

“Don’t argue with me. I will take care of her. Where do you live?”

The firmness in his tone made Serena respond. She choked out her address and directions, then stared at the phone which had disconnected without even a goodbye. That jerk had serious delusions of adequacy! He would take care of her? Did he think her incapable of wrapping her own horse’s leg?