the lawns, spectacular rose gardens, arbors, and fountains.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, turning her head every which way. It was a perfect place for a wedding reception. She felt her face warm up and reached down for her purse.
“We’ll go over after lunch,” he said, and ran around to open the car door. He offered his hand and helped her out. “The clubhouse is private. It’s up there, on that hill.”
This was the most perfect location for the art fair. She couldn’t have dreamed up a better place.
“Let’s go.” Zeke opened the door into the restaurant.
She took one more look around. There was a large white canopy to one side for outdoor dining. A flat-screen television stood in one corner and held a sign about Karaoke nights. Maybe they’d come here for dinner. She smiled at the thought of Zeke belting out a rock song.
He ushered her inside and into a booth. A huge open bar was in the center of the room and the bar stools had leather saddles for seats. There were crops and boots and riding gear on display on the walls. She loved the place and could imagine the noise and camaraderie of the polo players in the evenings.
Menus came quickly and foods were discussed and ordered. In between, they fell into a polite discussion of what was needed for the event. “So, Steve and I will handle the advertising for the event,” Dena said.
“You called him?”
“Yesterday,” she said, and frowned. Now he really sounded cold.
Zeke leaned back as the waitress returned and slid the plates in front of them. He had the strangest look on his face and Dena leaned forward about to question him.
“I’m sorry about all of your troubles lately,” the waitress said softly, and grimaced as she touched Zeke’s shoulder. “Small towns can be a bitch. My Dad said he’s known your family forever—”
“And he is—?” Zeke asked, and eyed his hamburger.
“Brad Knight. I’m Jane.”
“He’s your dad?” Zeke asked, and chuckled. “He coached me, Rocky, and Stanton in high school football.”
“He said you were a good quarterback, had a great arm. Oh, hell,” Jane said, and put a hand casually to her mouth. “Don’t look up yet. Give it a few seconds.”
“What is it?” Dena asked, and kept her eyes on her plate. She picked up half of the delicious looking chicken sandwich.
“Trouble just walked in. He was out here last night bitching about Three C’s. You can take a look now.”
Dena raised her head. On the far side of the room, Cyril Johnston stared toward their booth. By his side were Deputy Stanton and a female deputy.
How about that? They were buddies, Cyril and Stanton, going out to lunch? Dena took a bite then put the sandwich back on the plate.
She wiped her fingers, raised the napkin to cover her mouth. “Cyril and Stanton,” she said to Zeke.
His jaw tensed then he picked up his coffee mug and took a sip.
“They’re coming this way,” Dena said, lowered the napkin and picked up her sandwich again. The waitress moved on to another customer. The female deputy sat in a booth and opened a menu. Dena watched as the two guys swaggered toward them.
Cyril walked right up to their table and rested a hand on the end of it. He stared at Dena. She narrowed her eyes. Was she supposed to be run out of town or something? What the hell was this, a cheesy Western?
Zeke slid out of the booth and stood. He towered over both men. Stanton backed up a little. Cyril stayed put and glowered at Dena.
Zeke stuck out his hand. “Cyril,” he said. “Good to see you. Dave, how are you?”
They shook hands and muttered a couple of polite words. Dena noticed Stanton’s discomfort. She wondered if they were buddies or if he was doing a subtle check up on Cyril. She hoped it was the latter.
“Your woman here is throwing a chili cook-off event over at your place,” Cyril said.
Zeke nodded. “That’s right.”
“Won’t help,” Cyril said, and snorted. “You won’t get enough farmhands for harvest even with throwing a party.”
Dena watched Zeke pull himself up to his full height. “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see on that.”
“I won’t be attending.”
Zeke smiled. “Sorry to hear that. It should be quite an event.”
“So, what are you planning to hold out here?” Cyril asked, and glanced about the restaurant with a sneer that curled his top lip.
Dena wondered how he had known they were planning anything.
Zeke’s smile broadened. “Maybe an