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If Jamie strayed closer to the lake, she’d have to intervene. To her, the lake was more appealing than the riding trails, at least, if there were kayaks. It didn’t look big enough for waterskiing. She could even hike if Tate asked her, even though she’d nearly had her fill of it the past couple of summers when she’d been trying to impress Eli. The guy lived for the outdoors: hiking, fishing, camping — you name it; he was into it.

At least Tate was a city boy at heart, right? So, he was likely more an indoors kind of guy. They’d play games and watch movies and dance…

Stephanie shook the vision of herself pressed against Tate while they slow-danced out of her head. Jamie. He was her focus, and right now, he was plucking daffodils from a flowerbed in the green space, yellow petals already strewn around him.

“Jamie! Leave the flowers, baby. Come on. Let’s walk over this way.” She tried to steer him toward their unit, but he dodged away from her and trundled back toward the flowers.

Aargh. Why had she ever thought she could manage a small human? Teaching preschool Sunday school didn’t count. The kids were in an enclosed area there, and for a very limited amount of time.

She picked the boy up and turned him toward home again. She’d talk to Tate about a fenced backyard, maybe. And some outdoor toys.

Because one thing was certain. Stephanie was going to figure out how to nanny this child. Giving up meant admitting Mom, Dad, and Harper were right. Giving up meant groveling in front of Dad to get her old job back. Giving up meant removing herself from Tate’s life.

Nope. Not an option. The more she was in his presence, the dreamier he seemed. He’d soon come to realize what a perfect little family they’d make: him, her, and Jamie.

This time, Stephanie was playing for keeps.

Chapter Eight

There’d never been lost love between the cousins. Graham had been raised a spoiled-rotten only child by a Chicago power couple: Uncle Theodore worked for Grandfather, and Aunt Bridget was the firm’s lawyer.

Tate’s own parents had split up when their four sons were young, so the boys had shifted between Chicago and Gilead. Plus, they’d always had each other and didn’t need studious Graham’s company.

Now, they were all going to have to work as a team. Not only with Graham but with the two new guys. Just because half of them were James’s sons didn’t mean they were in control. Grandfather was, and he’d put Tate and Graham in charge of daily affairs. Together.

Okay, Tate maybe had a little more clout as head of operations, but his cousin held the purse strings. They were going to have to figure this out. Become a team.

Grandfather might be eighty, but he was far from retired. Maybe he wasn’t sure the younger generation was ready to carry Sullivan Enterprises into the future. That this was only a test seemed reasonable until Tate factored in Weston and Jude.

He rapid-fire typed into his laptop while Grandfather leaned back in his chair and outlined his plans. Beside him, Graham studied Tate’s document as it appeared on the wall screen.

“When are we opening, and how many employees are we looking for?” Seemed Tate was not only COO but Human Resources.

“Memorial Day weekend.” Grandfather steepled his hands.

Graham snorted. “That’s six weeks from now.”

“I’m aware.” Their grandfather speared Graham with a look. “We have the employment files from previous summers. Have someone go through those and make a list of personnel we can invite back. With a raise.”

“I don’t have time.” Graham stared back. “Neither do any of us. You’ve set an impossible task.” The two locked gazes.

Tate glanced between them. They’d never get anything done if all they did was butt heads. “I can ask Stephanie to sort them during Jamie’s naps. She can at least do a preliminary evaluation, remove any who didn’t have great exit interviews, and organize the remainder by departments.”

Grandfather nodded. “Excellent. I have one request from a friend of your grandmother’s. There’s a young woman—” he tapped around on his iPad “—ah, here she is. Kaci Moore from Dallas. I believe she’ll do well as head housekeeper. I’ll file her paperwork for you and let her know she can start the week prior.”

Tate nodded and tapped the name into the employee spreadsheet as Grandfather spelled it. The new information updated to the office screen. “Anyone else a shoo-in?” He should extend an olive branch. “Graham, do you know anyone in Chicago who might like to move out here for a while?”

“No.”

Alrighty then. He looked at the next item on his list. “Grandfather, I think we need new signage down at the highway. Can I get rolling on that?”

“Good idea. Graham, allot funding.”

Good thing Grandfather had deep pockets. How deep? Tate wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be no fear they’d run aground like the Smiths had.

“Your mother will be coming next week, Tate. She’ll be revamping the ranch website and installing a new guest reservation program.”

News to Tate. “Sounds good, but I doubt she’s into the long drive, and flight connections from Wichita are pathetic from what I’ve heard.”