He was early getting to the barn, but better that than being late with his shirt buttoned up wrong. Nick wasn’t there yet, so he used the time to lay straw over the muddiest areas in front of the barn. Between the exercise and the warm sun, his clothes mostly dried.
Fetching a brush from the grooming tote in the tack room, he carried it outside and started working on the caked mud decorating his jeans. He even had some patches on his shirt. Made him smile. That wild dash for her cabin had been great.
The de-mudding was still in progress when Nick showed up. “Hey, Nick.” He sent him a brief glance and kept brushing.
“I can see why you had to shuck your clothes on Isabel’s porch.” Nick grinned. “You’re a disaster area. What’d you do, roll in the stuff?”
“Ran through the rain.”
“And the mud, evidently. Not too smart.”
“I know.” He stomped his feet to shake off what he couldn’t reach. Good enough. “Couldn’t help it.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I understand that, once you got the green light. What I don’t understand is why you’re here.”
He looked up. “Same reason as you. I have barn duty.”
“You could have texted one of us to cover for you.”
“Matt offered. I didn’t like the idea of him giving up time off so I could be with Izzy. Sets a bad precedent if I start shirking my duties.”
“But won’t you have a better chance of changing her mind if you’re with her more?”
“Maybe.”
“Then as part of the campaign, shouldn’t we assist you in arranging that?”
“Not if it means dumping my responsibilities on the Brotherhood. She knows I work full-time.”
“I see your point. You don’t want to look desperate.”
“Too late. She already knows I am. But just because I’m desperate doesn’t mean I get to be selfish.”
“I don’t see it as selfish. It’s helping out a brother.”
“I appreciate that, but for now, I’ll stick with my work assignments.”
“Okay. You going back over there after this?”
“Yep. She asked me to.”
“Hey, that’s encouraging, right?”
“Guess so.”
“I want things to work out for you guys.” Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Did you make some progress this afternoon?”
He laughed. “I have no idea how to answer that, bro.” He gestured toward the barn. “Let’s go get us some lead ropes and catch us some ponies.”
Chapter Sixteen
Right after Isabel finished tucking food she’d brought from the buffet in an under-the-counter fridge, her phone played Naomi’s ring tone. Not good. They’d talked this morning. No reason for her to call tonight unless there was a problem at the shop.
She glanced at the time. Ten minutes before CJ would knock on her door. She tapped the icon for the speaker option. “Hi, Naomi. I only have a few—”
“The roaster’s dead. Fred just left. Drum is warped. No point in fixing it.”
“Damn it.” Her stomach churned. Their maintenance guy had been with them from the beginning. He’d helped them find that reconditioned roaster. If he could have repaired it, he would have.
“Yeah, and—”
“But you have enough inventory to buy us some time, right? This morning you said—”
“That was this morning. Turns out there’s a techie convention starting today. The organizers fell in love with Cup of Cheer when they were location scouting and they’re sending attendees here in droves.”
She groaned. “Can you estimate when you’ll run out?”
“At this rate, Friday afternoon. I have a possible solu—”
“Give me a minute. Let me think.” She paced the small confines of the one-room cabin. Her five-year-plan had just gotten kicked out the door. So had her budget. “Grab the paperwork for the roaster I have tacked up on my wish list bulletin board.”
“Already called them. They can’t ship until next week.”
She swore under her breath. “What about that company in California? I have their brochure bookmarked on my computer. They’re more expensive but—”
“I already checked. They’re backed up, too. But I have a lead on a roaster. Fred did an install for a guy in Bellingham who wants to sell his roaster.”
“No. I gambled on this one, but at least I got a limited warranty from the dealer. Buying from a private party would be a nightmare. We—”
“Izzy, this is a nightmare. We need a roaster by Friday morning. Thursday night would be better. The guy has a year-old model at a very reasonable price. If I close the deal tonight—”
“Have you talked to him?”
“Of course I talked to him! If I give him a deposit, he’ll hire a crew to load that sucker into a moving van and drive it down here tomorrow. Fred will come over after it arrives and hook it up.”
“What do you know about this Bellingham guy?”
“That he’s my freaking knight in shining armor! And that Fred’s set to head up there first thing tomorrow morning to confirm the roaster’s in good shape.”
That was some consolation. “But it’s still used. Why’s he selling it? What if it’s defect—”
“Fred will check it out.”
“You’re talking about risking tens of thousands. No warranty, no—”
“Want me to close the shop when the coffee’s gone?”
“No! But this—” She paused. “Hang on. CJ’s at the door.” She clicked off the speaker function before opening the door.
His happy smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
“Roaster died. I’m on the phone with my sister. Come on in.” She stepped away from the door and put the phone to her ear. “What does George think?” He was the third member of the managerial team, and the employee who’d been with her the longest, not counting Naomi.
“He’s scared to death. Doesn’t want to make a move without you here.”
“Are you scared?”
“You bet, but I’m not paralyzed like George.”
She took a deep breath. “That’s good.”
“Do you want the guy’s phone number?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’ll text it to you as soon as I hang up. I’ll also send the picture
