Tripp - Mavericks of Montana Creek Book One Read online

  “I’ve managed to sell a few birthday cakes and one wedding cake, but it’s still not enough.” I leaned forward and dropped my head on the counter for dramatic effect.

  “It’ll catch on. You make great desserts. Word will spread, and you’ll become so busy, you’ll have to hire a full staff to keep up with all your orders. You watch.”

  I looked around the space I had designed myself and worked so hard to make beautiful and inviting. The white shiplap walls contrasted with the gray-stained concrete floors perfectly. I’d salvaged a gorgeous antique display case to showcase my treats, and the countertops were pounded copper to match the tables spread just so throughout the little space.

  This bakery was the culmination of my life’s dream. A dream that had begun to form years ago in the kitchen at Beth’s house with her mom. My own home life had been less than desirable, and I spent much of my time in the welcoming embrace of the Miller household.

  Beth had never cared for baking, but Mrs. Miller loved it and had taught me all her secrets. I could still remember the first time I helped her whip up a batch of chocolate cookies. She had declared them the best she’d ever tasted, and that was the first time I could remember receiving praise in my entire life.

  I was instantly addicted. The realization that I could be good at something changed the trajectory of my sad little life. It soon became intoxicating for me to create and nourish. I’d been baking and saving for this business ever since.

  “So how did Old Man Maverick take it when you asked for the extension?”

  I sat up straight on my stool. “It wasn’t Rhett. It was Tripp.”

  Beth’s eyes widened at hearing Tripp’s name. “You met Tripp Maverick? What was he like?”

  I thought back to the day before and our brief encounter. I swear I could still feel his steely gaze boring into me and a delicious shiver ran down my spine. “Big. Mean. Scary.”

  “Scary sexy. I’ve only seen him from a distance, but dang.”

  “Yes, okay, fine. He’s attractive in a big, mean, scary sort of way,” I agreed. “But it’s too much. He’s too much. You know me, I’m not the type to back down from much but asking him for help had me shaking in my boots, literally.”

  “I’d let him shake me in my boots,” Beth said with a wink.

  “Control your hormones, woman. I’m on the brink of disaster here, and Tripp taking over couldn’t be worse timing. I think Rhett would at least try to be understanding, but Tripp made it clear I won’t get another chance.” I could feel my anxiety ratcheting up, and my hands itched to knead some dough, but I didn’t want to waste my inventory when I had several loaves lining the shelves already.

  “Maybe Ben and I could help out.”

  I held up my hand. “You and Ben have done plenty. You need that room for the baby. I can’t keep relying on you guys.”

  Beth’s eyes were full of tenderness. “You may as well be a Miller at this point. We’re family, and we’d do anything for you.”

  I reached over to squeeze her hand. “I know that, and I’m so grateful, but I won’t be moving back in with you and…” I started to say.

  She opened her mouth to argue, “I won’t take any money either.”

  She sighed, defeated for now. “I take it you and Tripp didn’t discuss your living arrangements?”

  “It didn’t come up.” I hedged.

  “Hannah, you can’t keep it a secret forever.”

  “I won’t need to keep it a secret forever because it’s temporary. Just as soon as I’m in the black, I’ll find a place of my own. Until then, my policy remains that sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.”

  I might have skipped over the part of the lease that clearly states the building is for commercial use only, and I might have taken up residence on the second floor.

  “I still don’t like it,” Beth grumbled.

  “Well, it’s not my first choice either, but it’s all I’ve got right now.” I gave her my best stink-eye. “Now get out of here. You’re bringing me down, and I need to deliver two dozen donuts to the police station.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve got an evil plan up my sleeve.” I waggled my eyebrows and smiled wide.

  “Well, good luck on your quest for world domination. I’m off to take a nap.” She yawned loudly and waddled out the door.

  The second the bell over the door tinkled her exit, I skipped my way back to the kitchen and loaded up two boxes worth of donuts I’d made that morning in flavors ranging from blueberry bourbon to cheddar and bacon. If customers wouldn’t come to me on their own, then I’d have to go to them. And if my hunch was right, I’ll be selling out daily.

  God, I prayed I was right.

  4

  Tripp

  I squeezed my head and willed a beginning migraine to dissipate. I didn’t have time to deal with it. Murphy’s Law was in full effect for me today.

  One of our bulls had gotten out of his pen, and he was currently terrorizing the countryside. We’d begun building a new barn on the southernmost border of our land, but the neighboring ranch claimed we were on their property, so I had to call the surveyors out to confirm our boundaries. I’d had three calls from business owners who leased space from us in the downtown corridor to complain of a sewer-like smell in their buildings. And the number ringing on my cell phone didn’t bode well.

  The family attorney.

  “Tripp? It’s Don.”

  “Yeah, Don. What’s going on?”

  “I just got a call from your brother.”

  He didn’t have to tell me which brother it was. There were five boys in our family. I was the oldest and, by all accounts, the grumpiest. Beau was next, and he was the do-gooder of the family. My parents had twin boys, Colt and Cash, last, and like the babies of families all over the world, they could do no wrong. The middle child was Gage. I hated to say it, but if the Maverick clan had a screw-up, it was him.

  “What did he do this time?”

  “Nothing terrible. Seems there was a bit of a brawl at the bar last night.”

  I ran a hand down my face. “Hell.”

  “Cops weren’t able to get a handle on who played what role, so they just arrested everyone and threw them in holding. Gage sobered up enough by this morning to call me.”

  “What’s he need?”

  “Just someone to sign him out and a bit of bail money.”

  “All right. Tell the sheriff I’ll be down in a bit.”

  “You bet.”

  I hung up the phone and picked up my mug of coffee. I wasn’t in any hurry to go bail Gage out of his trouble. Short tempered, bull-headed, and rash, Gage seemed to find himself in these situations more than I’d like to admit. I hoped he’d gotten some sense knocked into him, and I hoped he had one hell of a hangover while he sat in holding and waited on bail.

  I took my time making phone calls to rectify the other issues of the day, then ran through my schedule with Kim who was technically my father’s assistant but was keeping me on track while I acted as interim CEO. I told her I’d be unavailable for the next hour and then drove to the jail.

  The building was one of the first built in the town of Great Falls, and though it had seen many updates and renovations, it still stood near downtown. I pulled into an empty parking spot and walked through the front doors.

  The young officer working the front desk took one look at me and said, “I’ll go get the sheriff.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and looked skyward. I didn’t have time to deal with my brother’s shenanigans, and I was getting angrier by the second.

  The door opened, and the sheriff motioned to me. “Come on back.” We walked together down the tile-lined corridor. “He took some pretty good lumps, but he’ll be fine. Seems he’s got one of those extra-thick Maverick skulls,” he told me with a wry grin. “Officer Mullins will process him when you’re ready.”

  I reached over to shake his hand. “Appreciate
you taking care of him.”

  “Anytime, Tripp. You know that.”

  Then he turned left toward his office, and I turned right. How sad that I knew my way to the holding cells. I walked past several hungover guys in Wranglers until I spotted the one who looked like me.

  Gage was sitting on a cot, elbows on knees, head in hands.

  “I hope it hurts,” I told him.

  He looked up, squinted at me through a black eye and groaned. “Ugh, I told them to call Beau.”

  “Yeah, well, they didn’t. And you’re lucky they didn’t call Dad first.”

  He coughed out a laugh. “True. I’d rather rot in here than deal with him bailing me out again.”

  “So what happened this time?”

  “Couple of guys on the circuit had too much to drink and got a little rowdy at the bar. Too handsy with one of the waitresses for my liking.”

  “Ah, the old knight-in-shining-armor story.” What was it with bull riders and their god complexes?

  “What am I supposed to do? Just ignore it?” He spat. “Then I’m no better than they are.”

  “I have to believe there are better solutions than bashing their heads together and getting arrested, Gage. Especially when we both personally know the bouncers, and they’re more than capable of handling it themselves.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Oh, I understand. I’m just ready for you to grow up.”

  He shook his head, one side of his mouth lifted into a smile with no humor behind it. “Now you sound like Dad.”

  “I don’t like it any more than you do, but someone’s got to keep this family in one piece.”

  “Here we go. Tripp the martyr,” he mumbled and returned his head to his hands.

  I wanted to throttle him. Ungrateful little turd. Instead, I nodded at the officer standing meekly at my side, and he unlocked the door and slid it open for Gage. We walked silently to processing, and I handed over his bail and my signature. The officer at the desk handed Gage his wallet and keys, and then we were out the door.

  He cringed against the bright day. “Ow.”

  I made a point to clap him on the back extra hard. “Head up to the ranch, will ya? We’ve got a bull loose, and I’m sure the fellas could use your help. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Wait. You’re not even going to take me to get my truck?”

  “Sorry, I’ve got more important things to do than babysit you all day.” I turned and walked away chuckling at the string of curses coming out of my brother. There were a few I hadn’t heard before. Impressive.

  Instead of getting back into my truck, I thought some fresh air would do me good and decided to walk to the businesses complaining of the offensive smells. On the way, I passed Hannah Price’s bakery and had the strangest urge to stop in. I had no real reason to. Her extended rent wasn’t due for another couple of days, and I was still full from breakfast. So why would I need to go there?

  Couldn’t be just to get another glimpse of her cute little butt in that apron.

  Dammit, man. Pull it together.

  I had more pressing matters that needed my attention like unhappy tenants, an absentee father-slash-CEO, and my own portion of the ranch that was being woefully neglected in my absence.

  The last thing I should be thinking about was a little baker named Hannah.

  5

  Hannah

  “It’s a what now?”

  “Gluten-free donut,” I explained patiently for the third time.

  “What the hell is gluten?”

  It occurred to me that perhaps the crusty, eighty-year-old owner of the town’s biggest ranching supply company might not have been my best choice to solicit.

  “It’s a type of protein found mostly in wheat. Research is finding many people have trouble tolerating it in their diets.”

  “That’s why I stick to red meat and taters,” he explained with a superior tone. “I don’t need some fancy hippie donut to keep me alive and kicking.”

  I took in the liver spots on his hands, the red, bulbous nose, and distended gut but kept my thoughts to myself. “Maybe some of your employees would be interested in healthier options during staff meetings?”

  “Nah. They’re here to work. What they eat is none of my concern.”

  I give up.

  “Would you mind if I left some of my business cards on your community bulletin board?”

  “Help yourself, little missy.”

  And with that, the grumpy old man in overalls wandered off.

  No matter. I had a whole list of businesses I wanted to visit that day. I was determined to get my name out there and let the people of Great Falls know they had options.

  After leaving the supply company, I went to a small strip mall located not far from the downtown corridor where my bakery was. It housed a Mexican restaurant, a BBQ supply store, a spa, a home décor store, and another bakery.

  Uhh, better skip them.

  I went to the spa first and was met with the scent of lavender and soft, soothing music. A woman dressed in spandex from head to toe greeted me, and I introduced myself.

  “I just opened a new specialty bakery and wanted to bring by some of my product and options we can offer you.”

  “Options?”

  “I cater to gluten sensitivities and other food allergies,” I explained and offered her a menu.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, ma’am. I think the issues are more prevalent than we realize.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I feel like so many of the issues people come here to treat originate in the gut.”

  “I have Celiac Disease that went undiagnosed and untreated for years. I’m hopeful I can help educate others who might be struggling with similar issues and prevent some of the pain I went through.” Saying the words brought an unexpected spurt of anger I thought I’d dealt with long ago. Growing up with a disease you didn’t know you had and a parent uninterested in understanding why his daughter was sick all the time could do that to a person, I supposed.

  “Do you have vegan options?”

  “I do,” I flipped the menu to the back and pointed, proud of all the tasty options I could offer to people with dietary restrictions.

  “This is incredible. There’s another bakery a few doors down, and it always smells so good, but there’s not one thing they serve that I can eat,” she lamented.

  “Well, I’d love it if you stopped by to see me sometime. I’ll stock up on my vegan treats, and your first cup of coffee is on me.”

  “It’s a deal,” she agreed, and I left there feeling as though I had just conquered the world.

  The rest of my stops at the strip mall were met with mixed reviews, but I figured that as long as I was promoting myself, I was moving forward.

  Next, it was time to move on to my more intimidating stops. I’d formulated a new idea I wanted to incorporate into my business plan, but to my knowledge, nothing like it had been done before, and I worried it wouldn’t catch on the way I hoped it would.

  I thought of Tripp Maverick and the possibility of having to ask him for yet another extension, and the thought alone was enough to strengthen my resolve to try my new plan. Nothing was more terrifying than having to ask that man for another favor. With any luck, Rhett would be back soon, and I wouldn’t have to worry about the more intimidating of the Mavericks.

  Squaring my shoulders, I headed to the first business on my list.

  6

  Tripp

  “So, you’re telling me that raccoons broke in and did all this?” I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to keep my cool.

  “They’re wild, feral beasts! Scavengers and thieves, I’m telling you,” Murphy, the owner of an Irish-themed pub exclaimed, eyes a little glassy.

  He’d called me that morning when he’d arrived at work and discovered his kitchen in disarray. Nothing had been stolen or damaged, but I did note several empty bottles of Guinness and what looked suspiciously lik
e the remnants of an attempt at nachos. Best guess, Murphy had been drinking his inventory again and forgotten he’s a terrible cook.

  “And you want me to do what, exactly?” For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why I was there.

  “You’re my landlord, aren’t ya? I want you to kill those wretched raccoons!” Murphy was bald save for a strip of red hair that circled the bottom half of his head from just above his ears to the base of his skull. It was sticking out in every direction, and it was impossible to take him seriously.

  “I’m your landlord, yes. Not animal control and not an exterminator. Did it occur to you to call either of them for your raccoon problem?” My fingers lifted into air quotes at the word ‘raccoon.’ I couldn’t help it.

  “Oh, you don’t believe me then? I guess it was ghosts. Or maybe aliens? How else do you explain this mess?” He gestured to a trash can that had been tipped over.

  “Clearly, there is no other explanation, Murphy. I’ll get right on calling animal control for you. And an exorcist. And damn NASA.” I shoved my hat onto my head and stomped out into the sunlight, the glare of the sun a jarring contrast from Murphy’s dank bar.

  Grumbling to myself about raccoons and ghosts, I stormed my way down Main Street no doubt appearing just as crazy as Murphy and scaring passersby. I had a crap-ton of work to get done that day, and my mood was souring by the minute.

  I didn’t mean to yank open the door to the bakery as hard as I did, but it slammed against the doorframe, and the girl behind the counter yelped.

  “Uh, morning.” No one had ever accused me of being eloquent.

  “You scared me half to death,” she squeaked, one hand coming to rest at the pulse in her throat. I suddenly wondered if her skin would smell as good as the bakery she ran.

  “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.” I tried to look like I was sorry. Not sure if I pulled it off.

  “It’s okay. Come on in. I’m all ready for you.”

  Her seven days were up. I didn’t say it, but I was relieved to know she’d been planning on seeing me today. One less fight on my hands.