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Catching a Cowboy

By Christine Schimpf

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Chapter 1

October, Present Day
Sister Bay, Door County, Wisconsin

Twenty-five-year-old Cassie Hamilton was in the hot seat.
“You have two choices.” Brett Hayward’s gaze was serious. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
Cassie felt the weight of her accountant’s look as if she’d strapped a fifty-pound sack of baker’s flour onto her back. Seated across from him in his office, she shifted her eyes around the minimalistic designed room, wishing she’d canceled their quarterly meeting.
“You’ll need to find a way to bring in revenue over the off-season or build up sales during your peak periods.”
Cassie sighed. With the tourist season winding down, she had no idea how she’d manage that.
“If you continue to draw from your funds to keep the café going, you’ll end up running your savings into the ground.”
Cassie was guilty of sticking her hand into the cookie jar far too often this past year. Watching her savings account dwindle was painful. She never expected it would be this hard. “I understand.”
The old-school grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the room ticked off another minute, inching time toward the dreaded down season. Cassie pulled a spiral notebook and ballpoint pen from her satchel ready to take notes on the solution to her problem.
Mr. Hayward swiveled his computer in her direction. A sea of numbers in an Excel file glared back at her. “As you know, many of the businesses here in Door County operate on a seasonal basis. They close their doors over the winter months for good reason.”
Yes, Cassie knew the stats but didn’t believe the café would struggle. She leaned on her headstrong attitude and opened up the Perfect Cup café last December. She hoped her establishment would be a welcomed addition, especially for the tourists coming into the county to enjoy the brand-new sledding hill and winter activities.
“I promised your parents to oversee your first year by reviewing your books every three months. I’m sorry to have to deliver such a strong message.”
Cassie stopped the repetitive click of the ballpoint pen when Mr. Hayward’s eyes drifted to her hand. She placed the pen on the desk. “I agree with you. I can’t keep dipping into my savings.” This meeting was beginning to sound like a broken record.
Mr. Hayward’s eyes softened. “I understand. You love your café, but I’m sure you don’t want to operate at a loss.”
Cassie grabbed the pen ready to put it to work. She peered up at the man seated across from her. “I’m open to suggestions, but every small business endures the pinch during winter.”
Mr. Hayward released a heavy sigh.
Cassie fumed. Why couldn’t she experience the same good fortune as her parents had with their fishing excursion business or her brother, Conrad's, success with Hamilton Construction? Both had lucrative, thriving businesses. Born into a family of entrepreneurs, she’d be the only Hamilton who wouldn’t be a success in three generations if her café failed. She couldn’t let that happen. Even her grandparents found luck with their rental cottages. She needed some lucrative suggestions and fast. She hoped Mr. Hayward could point her in the right direction.
Instead, he shook his head, causing his full cheeks to wobble. “I don’t know what to tell you, but I’d advise you to stay open-minded. Have you heard the county is holding the Rising Star competition again? That may open some doors to new opportunities for you. Even as a contestant, the café could garner some exposure, leading to more sales opportunities.”
Cassie repositioned herself in the chair. “A committee stopped by the café a couple of weeks ago. I told them I wasn’t interested.”
“Why not? Your café is perfect.”
“I haven’t had the time to think it through. I’ve been training a part-time waitress to help me during rush hour. Customers were walking out the door because I couldn’t get to them.”
“I strongly urge you to contact that committee and sign up.”
“But if the judges discover that my sales plummet in the off-season, how much of a rising star business do I have?”
Mr. Hayward rolled up his sleeves as if the next order of business was to help her solve the biggest problem of her life. “Your family has had successful businesses in the county for generations. Why don’t you ask them for a little support?”
Cassie didn’t want to do that. She was certain they’d agree to help her, but it was time she stood on her own two feet, both personally and professionally. “I’d rather figure this out on my own. Please don’t mention anything to my dad.” Mr. Hayward was an avid fisherman and regularly frequented her parent's bait shop.
The accountant straightened the edges of a stack of manilla folders on his desk and then glanced at the clock. “No need to worry. We have a confidentiality agreement here, similar to the one you’d have with an attorney. You’ll come up with a solution. You Hamiltons always do.”
Cassie thanked him for his time and left the office for the short walk back to the diner. She digested the conversation as she crossed the street, kicking the fallen cinnamon-colored leaves and acorns out of her path. The heady scent of the changing season filled the air. Autumn had always been an energizing time of the year for her, but the meeting had her spirits dragging. She loved living in Wisconsin and especially in her hometown of Sister Bay but running her own business was a lot more than she bargained for. She watched the first glimmer of light from the morning sun and paused her stride, then closed her eyes. Good morning, Lord, looks like we have a problem to figure out. After a moment, she walked up to her yellow clapboard building trimmed out in white and topped off with a green tin roof. She unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen through the back door.
“Hey, Ruby, girl,” Cassie greeted her sleepy golden lab mix snuggled in her basket in the crate and then clicked on the coffee roasters. After slipping an apron over her head and securing it behind her waist, she prepared for the day. She wrote the words pumpkin spice on a white-washed chalkboard she used to announce the daily specials. She hoped the social media posting she did last night would result in a good crowd today.
An hour later, she was thrilled with a full house. If only the meeting with Mr. Hayward would stop percolating in her head. Cassie scanned the nearly packed room, loving what she saw and wishing it could be this good all year round. The financial pickle she was in was serious, and if she didn’t succeed, Conrad would tease her forever. She couldn’t let that happen. Maybe she should consider the competition.
As morning inched toward noon, if not for the bell over the door that chimed, Cassie wouldn’t have noticed another customer had arrived. She shot a quick look in the newcomer’s direction, noticed the cowboy hat on his head, then focused on refilling two cups of coffee for the McPhersons who sat at their favorite corner table.
The newly arrived headed straight for the jukebox. Soon, country music filled the café but the pleasant moment didn’t last long. Cassie spotted Ruby bolting from the kitchen toward the opened entrance door. Coffee pot in hand, Cassie quick-stepped toward her. Why hadn’t she latched the crate? Oh, right. Because Ruby had been snoozing peacefully just twenty minutes ago.
“Whoa there, little girl.” Mr. Good Looking wrapped his large hands around Ruby’s middle, stopping her determined route toward freedom. “You remind me of my dog, Blazer, back home.”
The voice sounded familiar, but Cassie couldn’t quite place the name. She took in the details of the man in front of her. His gentle touch settled Ruby to roll over. The pup offered up her belly for a rub.
“She was sound asleep not too long ago.” Why was she stammering in front of this total stranger? Wait a minute. “Is this who I think it is under that cowboy hat?”
“In the flesh.” Luke Hunter lifted the hat from his head, revealing an unruly head of sandy-brown hair.
Cassie spotted the scar over his left eyebrow. The accident that caused the mark happened so long ago. Luke had pushed her out of the way of an oncoming wooden swing but wasn’t quick enough to save himself from the hit. Now, the same grey-blue eyes lifted and met hers.
Cassie took in his strong arms beneath a cotton plaid shirt, the indigo jeans covering his long legs straight down to the camel-colored boots on his feet. The years had seasoned him into a handsome man and the cowboy hat added to his good looks. By the looks of him, he must’ve turned country after his family moved to Nashville. But what is he doing here?
“Meeting your brother, Conrad.” He tipped his head toward her, wearing a grin.
Her smile shifted to a frown. “I didn’t ask the question yet.” The prickle of perspiration dotted her forehead. Why hadn’t Conrad warned her that he was meeting Luke today? At the minimum, she could have glossed her lips over with a little color.
Luke lifted two fingers. “Yeah, you did. I saw the question in those double browns of yours.”
Double browns! Cassie rolled her eyes at the old nickname Conrad had given her because of her almond-shaped brown eyes. And if Conrad used it, his pals did too.
“No one’s called me that in more than a decade.” She wanted to rid herself of the childish nickname she’d carried far too long.
“Still true.” Luke rolled Ruby to her feet and drew her close. He looked her over with his veterinary eyes and then squinted at Cassie. “She’s not getting a walk every day, is she?”
Cassie shook her head. She was usually one step ahead of most people. How could he have known that? “I….”
Luke slid his hands down the dog’s belly and legs. “Has she had her one-year-old wellness checkup yet?”
Cassie didn’t have to check the calendar on her phone to answer Luke’s question. Ruby’s appointments were on a sticky note on her fridge. “Her appointment is next week.”
“Good. I’m taking over all new patients at Happy Paws for Uncle Russ until the clinic sells. I’ll be seeing you both then.”
The clinic sells? Cassie knew Doc Hunter wanted to retire but selling the clinic? Is that why Luke came back? Cassie bristled at the idea of a total stranger in charge of Ruby’s care or having to drive down to Sturgeon Bay for Ruby’s vet visits. She had come to rely on the gentle, holistic approach she received at Happy Paws and didn’t want one of those cookie-cutter franchises to move in. Before she could investigate and ask the question, Luke beat her to it with his own.
“Where would you like me to deposit your little princess?”
“Ruby,” Cassie corrected. With the sound of her mistress’s voice, the dog’s tail began a frantic swish. “Has a crate in the kitchen, but I don’t expect you to ….”
Though a few inches taller than her five-foot-seven-inch frame, he’d filled out. Gone was the lanky young man of his youth, and in his place, stood a physically fit, strong adult with broad shoulders and strong hands. With the pup cradled under his arm, Luke stepped around the counter and strode into the kitchen as if he’d walked the path a hundred times before.

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