Page 5 of Ryder (Heart River Valley: Montana Protectors #3)

Dana

The first rays of sunrise paint Ryder’s ranch in shades of gold, and I’m already elbow-deep in cookie dough. After a restless night thinking about strong hands and heated looks over baking thermometers, I gave up on sleep around four AM.

At least the oven behaves exactly as my late-night testing predicted. Even if thinking about last night’s “testing” makes my cheeks heat.

“Something smells amazing.” Elena’s voice makes me jump. She stands in the doorway with two coffee cups, looking far too knowing. “Thought you might need this.”

“You’re an angel.” I grab the coffee like a lifeline. “How’s the bakery?”

“Underwater. Literally.” She hops onto a barstool, watching me shape cookie dough. “Elise is on the phone with the insurance people now. Rhett’s got his crew coming in to look at the structural damage.”

“Has she said anything about...” I trail off, not wanting to voice my fears about job security with the bakery closed.

“About keeping you on? Dana, please. You’re the best thing that’s happened to that kitchen since she bought the place. She’s already working on plans to keep filling orders somehow, all the way from a tropical island.”

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes with Elise’s ringtone.

“Speaking of...” I wipe my hands and answer. “Hi Elise. Yes, I... what? Oh no. I’ll be right there.”

Elena raises an eyebrow as I hang up.

“The insurance adjuster needs the exact model numbers of all the equipment,” I explain, already reaching for my coat. “And apparently there’s some confusion about our specialty inventory. Elise sounds ready to commit murder.”

“I’ll drive you,” Elena offers. “Jake’s headed that way anyway to help Rhett’s crew.”

But as we head to her truck, I catch a glimpse of Ryder by the fence line. Even from here, I see the tension in his shoulders, the focused intensity of each swing of the hammer.

Elena’s earlier words echo in my head: He likes you. A lot.

Maybe enough to risk everything for?

I push the thought away. We have a crisis to handle. Everything else—including the way my heart jumps every time Ryder looks at me—will have to wait.

Hearts & Grinds looks like a war zone. A very wet, very expensive war zone. The insurance adjuster—a pencil-thin man named Mr. Peterson who clearly hasn’t smiled since 1987—makes disapproving noises at his clipboard.

“And this... contraption?” He points at our top-of-the-line mixer with the same expression people usually reserve for toxic waste, pointing his phone at it.

“That’s a Hobart Legacy mixer,” Elise says through their video call. “As I’ve mentioned. Three times.”

“Mhmm.” He makes another note. “And you’re certain it wasn’t damaged before the flood?”

I jump in before she says something she shouldn’t. “Actually, sir, that mixer has quite a history. Would you like to hear about the Great Meringue Disaster of 2024? I believe that was the day we discovered exactly how waterproof it is.”

Mr. Peterson’s head snaps up. “Disaster?”

“Oh yes.” I nod solemnly. “You see, we had this order for a hundred pavlovas... Elise, you remember? The day Ryder came in and got distracted watching me pipe meringues?”

Elise’s murderous tone softens. “As I recall, he was distracted watching something, but it wasn’t the meringues.”

“Anyway,” I continue, feeling my cheeks heat, “long story short, that mixer survived being doused with not only water, but also three dozen egg whites and what I maintain was a totally reasonable amount of panic.”

“I... see.” Mr. Peterson looks like he very much does not see. “And this is relevant because...?”

“Because,” Elise cuts in smoothly, “it demonstrates both the value of the equipment and its previous exposure to water damage. Which, as per section 12B of our insurance policy...”

While Elise handles the technical details, I start documenting the specialty ingredients we’ve lost. The imported vanilla beans alone make me wince.

“You know,” Elena murmurs beside me, “I hear Ryder’s pretty good at tracking down rare ingredients. When he’s properly motivated.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the last time you mentioned wanting Thai vanilla beans, a case mysteriously appeared the next day.”

I nearly drop my clipboard. “That was him? But Rachel said—”

“Of course Rachel said it was her. Because her brother’s an idiot who’d rather secretly buy you expensive vanilla than admit he’s crazy about you.”

Before I can process that, there’s a crash from the back room followed by some creative cursing.

“Everything okay back there?” I call out.

“Fine!” Ryder shouts back. “But, uh, anyone know if that wall was loadbearing?”

Mr. Peterson’s clipboard clatters to the floor.

I’m fighting laughter. Because really, what else can you do?

“I don’t suppose,” Elena says while fighting giggles, “that your insurance policy covers acts of well-meaning but destructively helpful ranchers?”

Mr. Peterson looks like he’s developing an eye twitch. “I believe I have enough information for today.”

As he flees (there’s really no other word for it) I hear him muttering something about “crazy Montana people” and “should have stayed in accounting.”

“Well,” Elena says brightly, “that went well.”

“Define ‘well’.” I start gathering my notes after ending the call with Elise. “Because I’m pretty sure we just traumatized that poor man for life.”

“Please.” Elena waves a hand. “That’s not even the weirdest thing he’ll see this week. This is Heart River. Yesterday I watched Ryder nearly walk into a pole because you bent over to get a pan out of the oven.”

“He did not!”

“Oh honey.” She pats my arm. “Why do you think he suddenly needed six muffins at that exact moment?”

I open my mouth to protest, then close it again. Because now that she mentions it, Ryder does seem to have suspiciously good timing when it comes to fresh-baked goods...