Taming A Texas Heartbreaker - Katie Lane Page 0,2
girl. Very few men want a strong, intelligent woman who won’t put up with their shenanigans. They want some weak-minded ninny who spends her days dieting, doing her nails, and waiting on them hand and foot. Finding a man who values a good woman is almost impossible. Especially when that woman spends all her time working.”
She went back to putting the cookies on the cooling rack. “You’ve proven that a woman doesn’t need a man to be successful and happy, Aunt Gertie.”
Her aunt snorted. “Yep, I’ve certainly proven that, haven’t I?” She sighed. “And since I caused this, I guess I’ll have to be the one to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’ve been running yourself ragged. The boardinghouse has always needed more than one person running things. My sisters helped me until they passed and your mama and daddy came onboard. For the last two years, you’ve been doing it all by yourself. While I think you’re a strong woman, no one is that strong.”
“Then I’ll hire some help.” She finished with the cookies and picked up one to sample. She had definitely left something out. Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad.
“You’ll hire someone with what? You took the books away from me because you wanted to do them on your fancy computer, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t do some cipherin’ on my own. From my calculations, we’re barely breaking even.”
It was annoying how accurate her aunt’s calculations were. They were just breaking even, and that was with Reba not taking a salary.
“Of course, any fool can see that business has been bad,” Aunt Gertie continued. “Folks aren’t taking road trips like they used to and enjoying quaint small towns for fun and relaxation. Now everyone wants to hop on a plane to Disneyland or some foreign country.”
It was the sad truth, but Reba wasn’t about to give up. “I just need to come up with a draw. Something that will lure people here.”
“In the meantime, you’re running yourself right into the ground—and this boardinghouse right along with you. You’re so frazzled you don’t even realize some of the mistakes you’ve been making. And I’m not just talking about leaving baking soda out of those cookies. I’m talking about forgetting to put coffee in the coffeemaker and serving our guests hot water and putting a stack of pillowcases in the bathroom instead of towels.”
“Anyone can forget a few things.”
“A few?” Aunt Gertie looked down and cocked an eyebrow.
Reba followed her gaze to find her t-shirt on backwards. She sighed before she took it off and put it on right. “Fine. I obviously need some help. But there’s no need for you and Mama to worry. I’ll figure something out.”
“I gave you a chance to figure things out. Now it’s my turn.” Aunt Gertie wheeled her walker around and headed for the door, leaving Reba more than a little concerned. Her aunt’s schemes never turned out well. “And you better check that egg.”
The poached egg!
Reba quickly pulled the egg out of the water. But it was too late. She had another Ping-Pong ball. And she couldn’t serve it to Mr. Picky Sterling—especially after tasting the last one. She moved at lightning speed, but by the time she made another egg and put it on a tray with sliced tomatoes, half of an avocado, and a cup of black coffee, it was well past ten o’clock. Thankfully, Valentine Sterling’s room was on the first floor.
The garden room was her favorite room in the house. Not only because its French doors led out to the garden, but also because it had once belonged to her Grandpa Dix and Grandma Dovey.
Grandpa Dix had built the plantation-style house over a hundred years earlier as a wedding gift for his fiancée. The fiancée had loved the huge house but ended up hating the small town of Simple and left grandpa at the altar. Not wanting to disappoint the townsfolk who were expecting to enjoy a nice wedding followed by a delicious pig roast, he asked his Cherokee housekeeper to marry him. It turned out to be a love match. Grandma Gray Dove, or Dovey as she ended up being called by Grandpa Dix, wrote in her diary that she’d loved Thomas Dixon from the moment she set eyes on him and was “damned glad that prissy white woman had run back to Chicago.”
Reba wished the prissy man sleeping in her great-great-great-great-grandparents’ room would run off too. But until he did,