Cathy Thacker – The Texas Cowboy's Quadruplets (страница 8)

“What did your dad say to you?” he prodded.

“That I could sell if I wanted. But I didn’t want to.”

Chase paused. He slanted her a perplexed look. “Why not?”

“Because his custom saddle company was his baby as much as I was! He started it from scratch in a one-room operation and, over the years, built it into a multimillion-dollar operation with twenty-nine employees. The quality of the work at MCS has always been legendary. Until the last year, while I’ve been in charge,” she admitted unhappily as she lifted the capped bottles and shook them vigorously to mix. “Which is why, more than ever, I have to get things back on track. I have to carry on his incredible legacy, not just for myself, but for my sons! And their offspring, too!”

Chase seemed to understand her need to make this more than a one- or two-generation family business. He stepped in to help with the mixing, his biceps flexing against the soft cotton of his shirt. “Have you talked to anyone at the company yet?”

Mitzy consulted her watch again, then took four of the finished bottles over and put them in the warmers. “No. It’s a holiday weekend.”

“But you’re going to.” He helped her move the rest of the prepared baby bottles into the fridge.

Mitzy nodded. Knowing communication was always key. “Eventually, yes, when I have a better idea of what’s going on.” Chase’s shoulder brushed hers as he put the last of the formula into the fridge. “How are you planning to get the facts without talking to employees?”

Arm tingling, Mitzy stepped back. “That’s where you come in. I was hoping if you looked at the company records with me, via the log-in on my dad’s desktop computer, we might be able to pinpoint how and why and when everything began going wrong.”

“And then what?” He turned his pensive gaze on her.

She adopted a brisk businesslike demeanor. “I’ll talk privately to whoever is responsible for making some of the decisions that have lowered the quality of our saddles substantially.”

He came closer. “Planning to fire them?”

She scoffed and backed up until her spine rested against the quartz countertop. “No! These people are all family.” Her heart ached at the mere idea. “I’ll just make sure they understand, we’ll make a course correction and that will be that.”

He asked, tone matter-of-fact, “You have access to all the company records?”

Glad he was there to help her navigate the unfamiliar inner workings of the business, she said, “Every last one.”

He kept his eyes locked with hers. And leaned forward close enough for her to inhale the brisk masculine scent of his aftershave lotion. “Is everything computerized?”

She ignored the comforting warmth of his body, so near to hers. Frowning, she pushed back the unwanted emotion welling up inside her. “I think so.”

Concentration lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “You’re not sure.” His expression remained genial, but otherwise inscrutable.

Reluctantly, Mitzy admitted, “I’ve never actually looked. I gave everyone the autonomy to make the decisions they felt necessary, just the way my dad did when he was first diagnosed with stage four bone cancer and began undergoing treatment.”

“Which was a year ago, October.”

Mitzy was surprised Chase remembered that so precisely, since he had still been living in Fort Worth at the time.

Throat tightening, she went to him and laid an entreating hand on his forearm. “The point is, Chase, when I go to them, with whatever the situation is, I want to also have the solution at the ready.”

He nodded. A mixture of understanding and acceptance came into his eyes. Covering her hand with his own, he asked gently, “So what is your timetable?”

Mitzy savored the warmth and strength of him. “I want this all wrapped up before the MCS annual Christmas party, on the twenty-second of December.”

His brow furrowed. “That means we’re going to have to get started with the audit right away.”

Taking comfort in the fact she wasn’t going to be locked in this stressful situation all on her own, Mitzy nodded. Chase might not know her as well as she had always wished, but he did know business.

She frowned as she heard the sound of a fussing baby on the monitor.

She dropped her hold on Chase and stepped back, then headed for the stairs. Remembering to add, “And one more thing, Chase. This all has to be done in secret.”

* * *

Of course it did, Chase thought, as he followed Mitzy up the staircase to the second floor. Trying and failing not to admire the snug fit of her yoga pants over her gently rounded derriere. She cast him a warning look over her shoulder. “I don’t want people worrying unnecessarily, Chase. Especially not during the Christmas season!”

Of course she didn’t.

Just like her father hadn’t wanted her to worry when he was sick.

I’d sell MCS to you right now, Chase, if just the idea of it weren’t so upsetting to my daughter, Gus had said, from his hospital bed, that last week.

Heartsick at the way the disease had ravaged the body of his mentor, and almost father-in-law, Chase had pulled up a chair and taken Gus’s frail hand in his. Did you try talking to her?

Yes. And she took that to mean I was giving up. My death is going to be hard enough on her as it is, and we both know it’s coming, Gus had grimaced, a heck of a lot sooner than I would like.

Unhappily—because no good had ever come from keeping someone deliberately in the dark—Chase had guessed, So the plan is to humor Mitzy?

Gus had nodded. Until the end of the fiscal year. By then, she should have realized she’s not cut out for the business world, any more than I was ever meant to be a social worker. I want you to help her let MCS go, Chase...so she can move into the future, unencumbered...

“Chase?” Mitzy came back to the nursery door, to find him barely clearing the top step. “Did you want to see the babies?”

Abruptly, he realized she had been talking to him. He’d been so lost in the poignant memory of her dad, he hadn’t heard a word of what she’d said.

“Sorry.” He lifted an apologetic hand. “Thinking...”

She looked stressed. “The volunteers are going to be here in another half an hour, but I don’t think the boys are going to make it that long. They’re usually pretty hungry upon waking.”

It was easy to see why she might feel overwhelmed in the moment. He didn’t know how she had made it thus far. “Not to worry. I’m here.”

Glad he was there to come to their rescue in a way he hadn’t been in the past, when he hadn’t spent nearly enough time understanding where Mitzy was coming from or why...never mind tried to meet her halfway on anything...or persuade her to do the same with him... He hurriedly closed the distance between them and followed her into the nursery. He and Mitzy had been too young before to realize just how incredible and rare the love they had was. But they were older now, wiser. So if they ever got even half of what they’d had back, he was damn sure not going to squander it. And he wouldn’t let her do so, either.

In the meantime, he’d help her—and her sons—in every way he could, as a way of making amends.

He wanted her to see she could count on him, the way her father had hoped, and more. And so could her boys.

“Wow,” Chase said, as he caught his first glimpse of Mitzy’s four adorable new sons.

For once, the talk around town had been right on the mark. The quadruplets were gorgeous, just like their mom, with dark hair, fair skin and big, long-lashed blue eyes. As Mitzy surveyed them, she beamed with pride. He could see why. They were just perfect. As was the nursery she had set up for them.

The four full-size white cribs were fit together in the middle of the room, like a foursquare. All were decked out in “baby boy” blue. Colorful, eye-catching mobiles were attached to each bed. The babies all wore engraved bracelets that coincided with the names written across the tops of all the side railings.

Mitzy made the introductions proudly. “This is Joe.” The most social, Chase guessed, taking in the long lashes. “He is always smiling and laughing and cooing.”

She moved to the next bed. “And this is Zach.” Who still seemed sleepy, Chase observed, as the little one yawned. Mitzy smiled. “He’s my little Zen baby. Peaceful, content, never complaining.”

She moved on to the third crib, announcing proudly, “Here’s Alex.” The little fella had worked one arm out of his swaddling, Chase noted with admiration. And was attempting to free the other. “He’s going to be my athlete,” Mitzy proclaimed.

“And then—” she paused at the fourth crib “—there is Gabe.” The infant was staring up at them, intent, seeming wise beyond his days. “He seems to be the most perceptive of the four,” she said softly. “He’s always vigilant, always aware.”

Chase started to speak. Briefly, he was so overwhelmed with emotion it felt like he had a frog in his throat. Finally, he managed to say in a rusty-sounding voice, “They’re amazing.”

“I know.” Mitzy’s eyes gleamed suspiciously, too.

Chase took her in his arms, hugging her. “Congratulations, Mom,” he whispered, his voice still sounding a little hoarse.

She nodded, overcome.

Hanging on to him until it became clear if this continued they would kiss, she cleared her throat. Blinking, she extricated herself and turned away. Chase could hardly blame her. The situation between them was precarious enough as it was.