Shoulda Been a Cowboy

“And your coffee?”

“You can’t eat a muffin without a coffee. I’m not a barbarian.”

“No, I daresay you aren’t. In fact, a lot of people would say muffins are quite civilized. Not really a manly food.”

“Muffins aren’t manly?”

“Well, I don’t get a lot of men in here ordering them.”

“Well, screw that. Muffins are delicious.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Fair point. Delicious blueberry or delicious chocolate?”

“Do you even have to ask? If there’s chocolate, the answer is always chocolate.” Other than securing the rental of the apartment this was the most talking they’d done since he’d come back.

“On that we can agree.” This time, she put both the muffin and the coffee on the counter, rather than handing either directly to him. He was weirdly disappointed by that.

“Since you didn’t drop the muffin, I insist on paying for it today.”

“I suppose I won’t argue with you on that either.”

“Still cash only?” he asked, tugging his wallet out of his pocket. She was not the only business in Copper Ridge that didn’t take debit or credit yet.

“Yeah, for now. I’m getting one of those things for your phone that lets you take credit payment, but I haven’t done it yet.”

“How long have you had this place open?”

“Two years.”

Which explained what seemed to be a bare-bones staff and the very late nights she put in. All the hallmarks of a business that was still trying to get on its feet. “Well, good for you. It’s a lot of work running a business.”

“Do you run one?”

“Not really. I manage one. But I don’t own it. The owner is a friend of mine, and he’s semi-retired.” He’d be all retired soon, and Jake was poised to take over. If he could shake off the bonds that held him here. “The friendship part is just one reason I was able to come here and settle my father’s estate.” Calling that dilapidated piece of property—and the vacant building downtown and this place—an estate was almost laughable, but he wasn’t sure how else to phrase it.

“When you say settle it, what exactly do you mean?”

“What it sounds like. I don’t have anything keeping me here. I’ll be going back to Seattle as soon as I can.”

Cassie drew back as though she’d been slapped. “Oh. Will you have a property manager, or...?”

“No. I won’t need one. Because I won’t have property here anymore.”

Her dark eyes widened and she shot a quick look out to the dining room, before looking back at him. “You mean you’re going to sell?”

“Yeah.”

“All of it though? Not just the ranch?”

“Yeah, did you think I was planning anything else? I’m not going to stay here and play cowboy. It’s not my thing.”

“Well, I thought you might make your intentions explicit considering you own the building I live and work in.”

“I’m a little ways off from listing it, and I had intended to offer the place you.”

“I can’t get a loan for it.”

“Then you can continue to lease it from the person who buys it for me.”

“You’re assuming that the person who buys it from you will allow me to continue leasing it. And that they won’t raise the rate.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. This was not the kind of complication he needed. If he had a hope in hell of buying John out eventually like he was planning, he needed to offload these properties. He was in a decent financial situation, but buying a very successful business wasn’t cheap. And sure, he could keep the properties and lease them, but that would rob him of money he could use as a down payment, and land him with a bigger mortgage than he was comfortable with. In addition to that, he would have to get someone to manage things in Copper Ridge for him, and all of it would just keep him tied to a place he had no desire to be tied to.

And he felt sorry for Cassie, he did. But warm fuzzy feelings weren’t going to get him where he needed to go.

“Well, we have some time to figure it out.” Even though he knew he would arrive at the same conclusion regardless of how much time passed.

“I’m not sure I like that.”

“What?”

“That non-answer. It might be easy for you to just leave things up in the air, because you have all the control. I’m the one whose livelihood and home hang in the balance.”

“Look, I really hate to be a jackass about this, but it isn’t my problem. My problem right now is getting all of the shit off of my dad’s property. Because if I don’t do it myself it’s going to cost me a crapload of money that I don’t want to spend. And trust me, coordinating the removal of rusty cars, old toilets and fucking chickens is not as much fun as it sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound fun at all.”

“I know, that was kind of the point.”

“You’re removing chickens and helpless coffee shop owners. Big week for you.”

“I’m re-homing them. And I’m not doing anything with you. Yet.”

“As you make your decision, remember, you owe me for yesterday’s muffin.”

He frowned. “It was on you. Because you dropped it on the floor.”

“That was before I knew you were intent on throwing me out onto the streets.”

“I am not throwing you out onto the streets.”

She lifted her hands and then slapped them down against her thighs. “You might be. You don’t know. You’re going to wash your hands of me. And leave me to be devoured by the winds of fate.”

“That is... Just a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

“It’s not dramatic at all! You are talking about selling my building out from under me. I don’t think there is an overdramatic where that’s concerned.”

“If that were the case. But nothing has been decided, there is no specific buyer threatening to take anything from you, and I am not paying you for the muffin.”