Bought By The Sheikh Next Door Page 4

  Thanks for the invite, Mom. Send me the details and I’ll see what I can do.

  Most likely, Suzanne wouldn’t get back to her with dates or a specific plan, which was fine. Spending a weekend with her mother shopping was about the last thing she wanted to do.

  Her cellphone rang and Kelsie hit send on the email, then answered the phone after glancing briefly at the screen.

  “Morning, Bo. What’s up?”

  Francesca, her best friend and right-hand farm lady sounded frustrated.

  “The fence on the south pasture is fixed, but the storm last week knocked down a couple of trees in the north pasture, by the creek.”

  “Well, that’s firewood for next winter.”

  “Funny. The trees landed on the fence there, so that’s another fence I have to repair.”

  Kelsie winced in sympathy. “You want me to call Oscar and have him place another order for wire or posts?”

  “No, he should have everything in stock. I’ll call him and tell him what I need. Next time you run into town, would you swing by the hardware store and pick it up?”

  “I’ve got a house call in town this afternoon. I’ll go then and bring everything out to you when I get back. The clinic schedule is clear for the rest of the day.”

  “Thanks, Peep. Text me when you’re on your way and I’ll meet you out by the creek.”

  “Hey, I met our new neighbor,” Kelsie said then.

  “They guy with the sports car? What’s he like?”

  “Well, he seems nice enough. He has the sweetest pit bull terrier, and she seems to like him.”

  “Making him an okay guy in your book, even if he’s a serial killer,” Francesca laughed.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Kelsie said dryly. “Also in his favor, he fixed my kitchen sink after I invited him in for coffee. And he liked Marge’s coffee cake.”

  “He fixed your sink?” Kelsie could hear Francesca’s disbelief through the phone.

  “I know. He knew what he was doing, too.”

  “Is this an appropriate time to make a joke about…well, maybe he can take care of other plumbing needs, too?”

  “No. It’s a terrible time for that joke.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Please, don’t. He’s the next-door neighbor.”

  “Which is convenient. Hey, speaking of men who want to fix your plumbing, I ran into Spencer in town.”

  Wanting to bang her head against the wall, Kelsie asked, “What did he want?”

  “To know why you won’t go out with him. I told him it might have something to do with the fact that he’s a cheating jerk.”

  Kelsie snorted. “Yeah, that and I’ve been over him for, oh, about fifteen years.”

  “Is he still drunk dialing you?”

  “Yeah. His voicemails are getting more and more creative.”

  “Maybe your new neighbor can fix that problem, too.”

  “Oh, if only we could fix Spencer. Look, it’s fine, Bo. I can handle it; I promise. And you have fences to mend. Literally. Stop worrying about me and go do that.”

  “Yes, ma’am. See you in a few hours.”

  Kelsie hung up the phone and shook her head. She and Francesca had been best friends since fifth grade. The new girl in school, Francesca, had started calling Kelsie “Bo Peep” when she’d learned that her father was a sheep farmer. Instead of getting mad, Kelsie had laughed. She had been going through a phase where she’d curled her hair every morning, and even she’d had to admit that with blond curls and the fact that she lived on a sheep farm, she did look like Little Bo Peep.

  The nickname had stuck, with Francesca eventually shortening it to just “Peep” and others picking up on it, too. The two girls were so inseparable in high school—more like sisters than friends—that someone had started calling Francesca “Bo,” so that together, they were Bo Peep.

  They’d gone to different colleges, and Francesca had moved to Sacramento for a few years, too, getting an MBA in the process before moving back to Rancho Cordero.

  There was no way Kelsie could have managed both the clinic and the farm, so while the clinic was hers, she and Francesca jointly owned the sheep farm, and Francesca oversaw all the operations.

  Kelsie loved working with her best friend. It was the best of all possible worlds, and she wouldn’t change a thing. She was almost certain of that.

  Chapter 6

  Masoud

  After spending several hours preparing a test site in his backyard—well out of sight of Kelsie’s house—and another couple of hours in meetings, Masoud was glad to take a break when his new appliances were delivered. He couldn’t do anything about the layout of the kitchen, but the new refrigerator and stove were professional grade, and he’d added a small wine refrigerator to the kitchen as well.

  The appliance installers were quick and professional. Masoud was surprised that he wanted to stand around and talk with them; normally, he would have let them do their work while he did his. Maybe small-town life was getting to him already.

  He’d driven into Carson City the day before, after coffee with Kelsie, having felt restless. Nevada’s capital wasn’t that far from Rancho Cordero, and he’d needed the drive to clear his head. On the way, he’d called his contact in the governor’s office to schedule a late lunch, after which he’d run by a big-box store and bought the new appliances, paying a premium to have them delivered all the way to his new house the next day.

  His sleep had been agitated, and even Leila had seemed to pick up on his mood, nuzzling his hand and staying closer than usual, like she wanted to calm him.

  By late afternoon, after the appliance guys had left, Masoud decided there was no point in him trying to do any more work. He wasn’t thinking straight and he was going to make a costly mistake if he didn’t step away for a bit. He thought about going back out into the yard—maybe some manual labor would focus him. But when he glanced out the office windows, he changed his mind.

  He could see Kelsie working outside, and he wondered if he could tempt her into showing him around town. It would give him a chance to learn more about the town, maybe meet a few other people through Kelsie. Plus, maybe spending time with her would ease some of this sense of frustration.

  Masoud called for Leila and let the dog into the tiny backseat of the white sports car.

  “It’s a short ride, girl, and a nice walk at the other end.”

  Leila laid down on the bench seat, chin propped on her front paws, and gave him a baleful look. Masoud got in and started the car, then drove it the short distance to Kelsie’s house.

  He pulled up in her driveway and rolled down the window to wave at her. Putting the car in park, he stepped out as Kelsie walked over to meet him.

  “I’m headed into town to stock up on groceries. Any chance I can talk you into coming along and giving me a tour of the town?”

  Kelsie looked down at her jeans and T-shirt. “I’m a bit of a mess.”

  “You look fantastic,” he said, surprising himself with the sincerity in his voice. She did look good, the jeans hugging curves and the blue shirt making her eyes sparkle. “And, in return for you doing me this very great favor, I will cook you dinner tonight.”

  She smiled at him. “How can I say no to that offer?”

  Masoud clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Leila’s with me; would you like to bring Cowboy, too?”

  Hearing his name, the dog in question raced around the corner and barked once. Kelsie grinned wryly. “I think that’s a yes.”

  Masoud opened the door for her and Cowboy, and then walked around to get behind the wheel.

  Kelsie said, “You do realize that our tour is going to take all of about thirty minutes, right? It’s a small town.”

  “We’ll walk slowly. Besides, I figured you could introduce me to people at the grocery store.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’re going to need many introductions.”

  Masoud gave her a questioning look and she chuckled.<
br />
  “You, my friend, have been the subject of town gossip since that moving truck showed up. I’ll bet everyone in town knows who you are by now.”

  “Well, that makes it easier, then. I was worried I’d need a name tag and an official town guide.”

  “It’s more like you need a…wingwoman? Someone to introduce you to people, but also someone to get you out of certain conversations. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself telling your life story to Sally Diaz at the post office.”

  Masoud laughed. “Good thing I have you with me, then.”

  Kelsie nodded sagely. “Indeed. I’ll keep you safe from all the town gossips.”

  “What’s the best place to start?” he asked as they turned onto Main Street.

  “Let’s park in the grocery store lot. We can walk through most of town from there and then stop by when we’re done.”

  Kelsie pointed out the lot and Masoud parked at the edge. By the time he had stepped out of the car, Kelsie had both dogs out and leashed. She handed Leila’s leash to him.

  “Anything you want to see first?”

  Masoud shook his head. “I’ll follow wherever you want to go.”

  She gave him a brilliant smile and set off walking. Momentarily dazzled, it took Leila pulling on her leash for Masoud to shake off the feeling of being stunned by that smile.

  “Let’s head by the town square first and then we’ll loop around a couple of the cool houses.” Kelsie said, not noticing that he was lagging behind.

  Masoud caught up with her as they crossed the street. Kelsie waved to the driver of a car that slowed down for them.

  “That’s Mike Kellogg. He owns a horse farm just outside of town. Francesca and I get our horses from him.”

  “Francesca?”

  “My best friend slash business partner slash basically a sister. We went to school together and she runs the farm with me. She’s been out of town or in the pastures fixing fences for the last couple of days, or you would have met her already.”

  A voice called out to Kelsie from two houses down. Kelsie lifted a hand and waved back. “Hi, Mrs. Clark!”

  Kelsie looked at him expectantly and Masoud felt like he was being given a test. “Ah, Mrs. Clark is the mother of my realtor, and she makes amazing coffee cake.”

  There was that heart-stopping smile again and Masoud got so distracted he didn’t hear Kelsie’s reply. She directed him up the sidewalk where the café owner was watering flowers in the front yard of her house.

  “And who do we have here?” Marge asked, more satisfied interest than curiosity in her tone.

  Masoud knew, then, that Kelsie was right—most of the town already knew who he was.

  He held out his hand to the older woman. “Mrs. Clark, I’m Masoud Al-Saffar. I just moved to town, and since Kelsie is my next-door neighbor, she was kind enough to offer to show me around.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Masoud. Welcome to Rancho Cordero. My son Josh was your realtor.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Masoud said. “He found the perfect house for me. But outside of that, you are already one of my favorite people in town.”

  Marge’s eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement. “And how is that?”

  Masoud leaned in and gave her his best smile, the one that allowed him to close multi-billion dollar deals in record time.

  “Kelsie gave me some of your coffee cake,” he said, like he was letting her in on an important secret. “I expect you’ll be seeing me at least a couple of times a week.”

  Marge laughed and Kelsie nodded in approval at both sides of the polite conversation.

  “We’re headed over to see the Town Hall. See you around, Mrs. Clark.”

  “You come by the café anytime, Masoud, and I’ll fix you up with some town specialties.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her another respectful nod and then let Kelsie lead him down the sidewalk.

  When they were down the sidewalk a little ways, Kelsie said softly, “Marge has lived in Rancho Cordero since she was thirty. She moved here with Josh after her husband was killed in military service. She wanted a change of scenery from North Carolina where they were stationed, but she didn’t want to move back home to her family. So, she picked a random place on the map that was about as far from the East Coast as possible and bought the café when the former owner retired.”

  “Have most people lived here long?”

  Kelsie shrugged. “I guess it depends on your definition of long. About half the people here had parents or grandparents that lived here.”

  “Like you.”

  She nodded. “Like me. Others—like Francesca’s family and the Clarks—moved here a few decades back. But we’ve had other people move in more recently.” Kelsie raised her eyebrows at him with a grin. “Like you.”

  “When was the town founded?”

  “Officially, in 1882. There was a trading post here going back a few decades before that, when this was on one of the main trails during the California gold rush. But it wasn’t an official town until well after Nevada became a state.”

  She pointed out a large marker on one side of the street, at the edge of a park.

  “The trading post stood there, with a tavern and inn next to it. We were one of the last stops before wagon trains started crossing the mountains.”

  Masoud looked at the large, old building on the other side of the park. “That’s the courthouse?”

  “Mmm-hmm. The first stone building in the town and one of the biggest courthouses in Nevada, outside of Carson City, Reno, and Las Vegas. Rancho Cordero was the county seat for about ten years, then Rowan was incorporated. Since it was on a main road, they moved the county seat there.”

  A voice from behind them said, “Don’t forget to mention that Rowan stole the county seat from us, Miss Mack.”

  Kelsie and Masoud turned. “I was just getting to that part, Judge Wyatt,” she said.

  “I get the feeling there’s some history between the two towns,” Masoud added.

  The white-haired man tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

  “Robert and Patrick Mason were twin brothers, and they hated each other. They both owned the trading post here—or, at least, they both did, in the beginning. Then, Robert married the woman Patrick was in love with.

  “To get revenge, Patrick built a general store and tavern about thirty miles away, closer to a trail crossroads, where more people passed by. He put all his money into opening so many businesses and getting people to settle there, that the town was twice the size of Rancho Cordero in just a few years. Patrick worked to get the town incorporated, then to get the county seat there, all to take something away from his brother.”

  “Why name the town Rowan?” Masoud asked.

  Judge Wyatt gave him a wolfish grin. “That was Robert’s wife’s maiden name. It was a thumb in the eye of his brother and a reminder to her of what could have been if she’d married him instead.”

  Masoud gave Kelsie a look. “Do all small towns in America have these kinds of stories?”

  She laughed. “Probably, but ours are the best.” Kelsie held a hand out to the judge. “Masoud, let me formally introduce you to Judge Mason Wyatt. Judge, this is Masoud Al-Saffar; he just moved to town.”

  The two men shook hands and Masoud couldn’t help but ask. “Any connection to the Mason family?”

  This time, the judge’s grin showed teeth. “Robert was my great, great grandfather.”

  Masoud smiled back, liking this sharp man.

  “Welcome to town, Mr. Al-Saffar. Miss Mack, are we still on for next Tuesday?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be there, first thing that morning.”

  “Excellent. You two enjoy your walk.”

  Kelsie watched him walk away and then explained. “The judge keeps a few goats. I go out a few times a year to check on them.”

  Masoud studied her for a long moment. “You really do know every single person in town, don’t you?”

  She grinned. “It’s not like there are
that many of us.”

  “Still, it’s not something I’m used to.”

  Kelsie studied him in return. “Think you’ll get used to it?”

  Masoud really didn’t want to lie to her. He had no intentions of getting used to it, because he didn’t think he or the town would be here long enough for that to happen.

  He answered as honestly as he could. “I don’t know.”

  Surprisingly, she accepted that answer easily and the continued their walk. Kelsie was right; it didn’t take them that much time to walk through the town, and in less than an hour, they were back at the grocery store. They tied the dogs up to the post outside, where a water bowl was thoughtfully placed.

  Masoud was a little taken aback by how small the store was, even though he could see it was well organized. He wondered if it would be possible to order special ingredients. If not, Carson City wasn’t that far away.

  They were greeted by a cheerful woman standing behind the register as soon as they walked in. Kelsie stopped to chat, of course. Masoud was beginning to think that no two townspeople could pass each other without stopping to exchange pleasantries.

  The cashier looked up at him; Kelsie laid a hand on his arm and said, “Masoud, this is Polly Crandall. She owns the grocery store here.”

  Masoud extended his hand to the woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Polly.”

  “Likewise. You two let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  Kelsie nodded and grabbed a basket. Masoud followed behind her and picked up a basket of his own. He looked over the offerings on the shelves as they walked down one of the aisles, picking up a few things and putting them in the basket. Kelsie stopped at the end of the aisle and turned quickly, almost running into him.

  She leaned over and poked around in his basket with a quiet “hmmm”, and he wanted to laugh.

  “Do you approve?” Masoud asked.

  “Just seeing what you’re planning on cooking tonight,” she replied, still looking in his basket.

  “It’s a surprise.” He hadn’t planned on surprising her, but suddenly, he felt the urge to pamper her with a real gourmet meal. He needed a few more things, though. “Can you point me to the produce?”