“You did? Why?”
“Because, Beth,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and frustration-free. “The farm is still hanging on by a thread. They can help us get it fully cleaned up in a couple of months I bet.”
“A couple of months,” she repeated. “I can’t pay for that, Trey.”
“I can,” he said simply. Their eyes met, and hers stormed. He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t like taking his money, or because he’d made a decision about her farm without her. Probably both.
“There you are,” Cayden said, and Trey looked away from Beth, about a quarter of his sandwich left. “I need you in here.” He took in the scene on the lawn. “Can you spare a few minutes?”
Trey knew from the anxious yet determined look on his brother’s face that it would be more than a few minutes. He stuffed the rest of his sandwich in the bag, got to his feet, and said, “Yep,” He leaned down and kissed Beth quickly, adding, “TJ, time to go home, bud. I have a ton of work to do.”
“Aw, Trey,” TJ whined, but Beth shushed him and told him not to be ungrateful for the time he’d had here. She was patient and kind with him, but firm, and Trey admired her parenting skills. They could talk more about the crew later.
He followed Cayden inside, the man moving fast and sure. “We’ve got the mayor of Lexington here,” he said. “Along with her press secretary, and three City Councilmen.”
“Wow,” Trey said. “Why?”
“They want to do a billboard about us,” Cayden said, his grin popping onto his face. “They grabbed me, and we’ve been talking, and I need you since you do our schedule.”
“A billboard?” Trey asked. “What in the world?”
“Mayor Densfield,” Cayden said smoothly, that smile still on his face. “My brother, Trey.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Trey said, shaking her hand. He cut a glance at Cayden, who introduced everyone else. The names went in one ear and out the other, especially since plenty of people still loitered about, chatting and filling the silence with a din that made concentrating difficult for Trey.
“We’re doing some campaigns for the city,” the mayor said. “Our theme is champions, and we want Lexington to be on the map for where champions come from.” She looked from Trey to Cayden, her eyes animated and bright. “Bluegrass Ranch has produced more championship horses than any other ranch in the surrounding area,” she said. “Not Derby winners, but across the board, even races in Australia and Saudi Arabia have winning horses from right here in Lexington.”
Technically, Bluegrass Ranch existed within the city limits of Dreamsville, but Trey buried that information beneath his tongue. Dreamsville could be considered an outlying appendage to Lexington, and they had long been considered part of the region.
“We’re thinking a huge billboard on the highway coming in from Louisville,” the mayor’s assistant said. “We want you Chappell men on it.”
“All of us?” Trey asked.
“Yes,” she said. “We have some preliminary ideas, but we’d love to work with the two of you to see what else we can come up with.” She glanced at the City Councilmen, and Trey did too. “We want you all in the full regalia of your jobs. The very jeans you wear to work with the horses. The belt buckles. All of it.”
She continued to talk, and Trey listened, his mind coming up with ideas that would morph and change and sometimes die by the time she finished a sentence.
“Athena,” the mayor finally said. “Let’s schedule something with them so we can provide all the nitty gritty. Then they can decide.”
“Right,” her assistant said. She met Trey’s eyes and smiled. “That’s you, I believe.”
It sure was, and Trey pulled out his phone to see when he could meet with the mayor again.
* * *
Weeks later,Trey pulled up to a house in the middle of the Kentucky wilderness and said, “Don’t forget that pie now, TJ. Your grandpa said it’s his favorite.”
He was tired already, but noon hadn’t even gone by yet.
“We can leave as soon as lunch is over,” Beth promised. “You look tired.”
“I am tired,” he said, looking up to the house. “You promise I won’t have to eat any yams?”
She giggled, and that sound rejuvenated Trey slightly. They’d been married for six weeks now. He’d been sleeping in the bedroom across the hall from hers, and most nights, he was okay. He’d sleep for a couple of hours, get up, sneak onto the ranch, watch Rob with Somebody’s Lady, and go back to the white farmhouse which he was quickly becoming attached to.
“No yams,” she confirmed. “Come on. Let’s go in.” She got out of the truck and stepped to the back to help TJ down with the pecan pie the two of them had made last night while he’d been doing the invoices for the housing rentals on the ranch.
The farmhouse had a great big office off the front door, and Trey had set up everything he needed in there. The room had a comfortable couch, and sometimes he slept there after stumbling back into the house from the indoor training arena.