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and saw a delicious looking slab of beef from Sonny’s Barbecue, a restaurant in Laramie. “Removing all the wallpaper and painting the entire interior, for starters.”
    While she put items away, Hank got out containers of restaurant coleslaw, potato salad and beans. “You could sell it as is.” The mesquite-smoked brisket followed.
    Ally ignored the scent of fine Texas barbecue and kept out a container of yogurt, and a crisp green apple, for herself. “And lose thousands of dollars and the potential of a quick and easy sale? No.” She rummaged through the drawer for a spoon and filled a glass with tap water. “The look of this place has got to be updated before it officially hits the MLS listings. Marcy gave me a list of contractors to call. Hopefully, one of them will be able to help me out.”
    Hank added barbecue sauce and a package of freshly baked wheat rolls to the spread on the kitchen table. He shutthe fridge door and swung around to face her. Amiably, he offered, “I could help you out if you’d agree to delay the sale for a short while.”
    Beware unexpected gifts in handsome packages. “And do what?” Ally challenged, ripping off the foil top to her yogurt.
    He lounged against the counter, arms folded in front of him. “Give me a chance to pitch my plan to turn this ranch into a money-making operation.”
    Ally swallowed a spoonful of creamy vanilla yogurt and held up one hand to stop him. There was no way she was ever going to be as impractical and starry-eyed about the land as her parents had been. “I’ve heard enough plans,” she stated simply.
    Hank’s dark brows lifted. Ignoring his skeptical look, she stirred her yogurt and pushed on. “That was all my father ever did—was come up with one scheme after another. None of which, mind you, was ever implemented… at least not effectively.” Hence, the Mesquite Ridge Ranch had become a giant money pit rather than a paying investment.
    Hank turned and reached for two plates. “There’s a difference. I grew up on a ranch. I come from a family of ranchers. I know I could make this work—to the point I’d be able to pay all the taxes and operating expenses in the meantime—and eventually buy the ranch from you outright. All you need to do is just give me a chance.”
    Ally couldn’t deny it was what her parents would have wanted—for her to sell Mesquite Ridge to someone who loved the land as much as they did. That is, if they could not get her to keep it herself. Which she didn’t want to do. She watched as Hank set the table for two.
    â€œFine,” she snapped, irked by his presumption. “If you think you have all the answers and can turn this placearound?” She set her yogurt aside and sauntered up to him. “Then show me the numbers on paper. ’Cause I’m not interested in any pipe dreams or half-formed plans. Only the cold, hard facts.”
    Hank’s gaze scanned Ally’s face and body, lingering thoughtfully, before returning ever so deliberately to her eyes.
    â€œHow long do I have?” he drawled finally, in a way that left her feeling she had somehow come up short yet again.
    â€œUntil I officially put the property on the market,” Ally answered, mocking his take-charge demeanor. “December 24.”
    â€œFair enough.” Hank’s broad shoulders relaxed. He stepped back, smiling as if he’d already won her over with his brilliance and the deal was done. “In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to join me for supper. As you can see, there’s plenty.”
    There was indeed.
    Unfortunately, sitting down with him like this would add yet another layer of intimacy to a situation that was becoming far too familiar, too fast. Ally stiffened her spine. She had come back here, against her will, to end this unhappy saga of her life. No way was she getting sucked back in