The next envelope on the stack of unopened mail was small and made of what looked to be expensive paper—some kind of thick linen and it was sealed with a gold sticker in the shape of a pineapple.
Curious, she slid her fingers under the glued flap and opened it, then withdrew a beautiful card made of the same paper, embossed with a border of tiny gold pineapples and scented. She brought the card to her nose. It smelled like a pina colada.
“What’s that?” her dad asked.
“Looks like a thank-you card.” Her eyes scanned the beautiful handwriting.
“Thank you so very much for the lovely time we had at Teton Trails. Everything was perfect—from the glorious mountain setting, the wildlife, the sweet cabin and accouterments, and especially the food. We had a marvelous stay! (We’ll be telling everyone we know and urging them to visit. We also plan on returning in the future.) All our love, Ava and Tom Strobbe”
Charlie Grace couldn’t help herself. Her face broke into a wide grin.
Her dad picked up his cards and arranged them in his hand. “So? Who’s it from?”
“Ava and Tom Strobbe. They visited us all the way from Maui.”
“Maui?”
“Yeah, they wanted to extend their gratitude for a lovely stay.” The smile wouldn’t leave her face.
“Well, ain’t that something?” Her dad placed a matched set of cards down on the table in front of him and drew from the pile.
“Yeah, good for you, Grandpa,” Charlie Grace repeated, wondering if he caught the double meaning of her accolade. She wasn’t sure what had prompted this sudden change in his attitude toward her and the guest ranch, but she was grateful.
Her gaze drifted to the wall clock. “Oh, my gosh. Is it really getting that late?” She pushed the rest of the unopened mail aside, intending to deal with it later. Then she stood and stuffed the feed bill in her back pocket. Before paying that amount, she’d like to check with Gibbs and see if there was an explanation for the rise in cost. Had he purchased some other type of feed without her approval?
She kissed the top of Jewel’s head. “You have fun with Grandpa. I have some stuff I’ve got to take care of.” She moved for the sink, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and filled it. Gazing outside, she noticed Gibbs’ truck. Good, at least he wasn’t late again.
She downed the water and placed the empty glass in the dishwasher. “I’ll see you later,” she said as she headed out the door.
As she entered the barn, a quiet murmur of voices caught her attention.
Charlie Grace glanced around. No sign of Gibbs.
Gentle laughter coming from the hay loft told her all she needed to know. She took a deep breath, summoning her ability to remain calm, and made her way to the ladder leading up to the loft.
She climbed onto the ladder, taking one rung at a time, growing angrier by the second as it became clear one of the voices was a woman.
That man had some nerve!
Gibbs had crossed a lot of lines, but he wasn’t about to participate in hanky-panky on her time…and paycheck!
She reached the top and carefully peered over to where the sounds were coming from. Stunned at what she saw, she lifted herself up and parked her hands on her hips.
There, amidst the hay bales, were Gibbs and Lizzy Cayman, their faces flushed, caught in an intimate moment. A pang of outrage tore through Charlie Grace.
She could have shouted or caused a scene, but instead she chose quiet strength. Taking a moment to compose herself, she cleared her throat.
Gibbs’ eyes widened and Lizzy, her face red as a ripe apple, scrambled to cover herself. “Charlie Grace,” Gibbs stammered, clearly caught off guard.
“Of all the places, Gibbs,” Charlie Grace said, her voice steady. “And people.” She looked at Lizzy.
Lizzy, flustered, tried to speak. “Charlie Grace, I?—”
“Charlie Grace, this isn’t what it looks like,” Gibbs attempted to explain, his voice desperate.
She raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Really? Because from where I stand, it looks like two people making very poor choices.”
Lizzy at least had the decency to look down in shame. “Please don’t tell Uncle Albie. I mean, if he knew?—”
