I tip my chin. “I wanted to.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Why don’t we sit in the back of your car and get out of this damn sun?”
“What about Petunia and her friends?”
“Found themselves a nice patch to graze on.” He gestures toward them, shaking his head in amusement. “They’re not going anywhere until I corral them back to the barn, and that’s guaranteed to be a pain in my ass.”
“You still going around claiming Petunia’s not your pet?” I tease.
“She’s not,” he grumbles.
I hold up my hands, biting back a grin. “Whatever you say.”
I’ve quickly learned that Heath has a soft spot not only for Petunia, but also for animals in general. He might run a traditional operation, but he does it with far more compassion than most. All the cattle are well cared for, with regular check-ups, plenty of space to roam, and gentle handling from start to finish.
The way Heath manages his ranch speaks volumes about his character. He could have tossed Petunia aside or sent Peaches and Daisy back with Birdie once the whole illegal rescue mission debacle was over, but instead, he kept them here. Despite all his complaints, it’s clear he genuinely cares about them.
The same goes for the stray cat behind my shop. He’s gone out of his way to create a safe spot for him and buy him an endless supply of canned tuna. He hides behind a gruff exterior but has a heart of gold.
Heath helps me into the back seat and slides in beside me. He sets the cooler on the center console in front of us, pulls out a chicken salad sandwich wrapped in parchment paper, and offers me half.
“Don’t make me eat alone,” he says when I hesitate to take it. “There’s plenty of food.” He nods toward the lunchbox.
“Twist my arm, why don’t you,” I say with a playful laugh, accepting the sandwich.
I was going to eat the lunch he prepared for me back at the apartment, but this is even better.
“That’s my girl,” Heath says in a low rumble.
God, I love when he claims me like that.
My instinct is to crawl straight into his lap and show him exactly how much. Instead, I take a bite of the sandwich, giving the butterflies swarming in my stomach a chance to settle. I came out here to get to know him better, and I’m not going to letanything distract from that—not even how badly I want to melt at his praise.
Once I swallow, I shift to face Heath. “How are things at the ranch overall? Seems like you’ve been busy lately.”
He blows out a heavy breath. “Yeah, between calving season, constant repairs, and the paperwork bullshit, it’s been nonstop.”
“How have you been coping without Walker now that he’s sheriff?” I ask hesitantly.
Until now, I’ve steered clear of most personal questions, and I’m anxious to see how he’ll respond or if he’ll avoid answering altogether.
“It’s been difficult,” Heath admits, picking at a piece of lettuce. “Thought we’d be doing this together till we were old men. Now I’m having to figure out how to do it all without him. Pops came out of retirement to lend a hand, but he should be spending his days fiddling with his new smoker or helping Ma with projects at the elementary school, not breaking his back for me.”
I feel bad for not asking about this sooner. I gave him grief about Walker leaving before we hooked up, and I’m not proud of that now that I know how much added stress it’s caused him.
“Why not hire more help?”
“You been talking to Walker and Pops?” he questions with a humorless laugh. “They’ve been after me to hire a foreman for nearly a year now.”
I shake my head. “No, but why don’t you? Sounds like a logical option if you’re spread too thin.”
“For starters, it’s been a challenge to find someone qualified who’s willing to live on a secluded ranch. And what if they don’t run the place how I need them to?” He pauses a beat, as if weighing his next words. “With Walker, we had a system in place, and I could count on him to handle the tough calls when Iwasn’t around. There’s no guarantee the next person will live up to that.”
He and Walker don’t always agree on everything, but they’re still close. Losing him as a business partner has obviously hurt Heath more than he lets on, and I hate seeing him so conflicted about how to move forward almost a year later.
Setting my sandwich on the lunchbox. I cup Heath’s cheek, his coarse stubble rubbing against my palm. “You’re the boss, and you have the final word around here. Any good hire will respect your way of doing things and run big decisions past you first. There’s no shame in admitting you can’t do it all on your own. Since Grams retired, I’ve been managing Timeless Threads on my own, and I would’ve jumped at the chance to hire someone if I could afford it.”
Heath puts his hand over mine and gives it a squeeze. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped.”
