Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel by Laura Moore

training sessions, perhaps even lessons. I know RJ would never have considered opening up Rosewood this way—”
    “But we’re not Dad,” she said firmly. And she was as determined as Margot not to repeat the ruinous mistakes he’d made. “Times change. Rosewood Farm will have to change, as well. So we should definitely consider all the options available to us. But, Travis, won’t offering lessons and training sessions add to your responsibilities tenfold?”
    “We’d have to start small, increasing the number of boarders and lessons only once we’re sure they aren’t causing a negative impact on the breeding and training program. But as to the extra work, I wouldn’t mind it. I love what I do. For now, though, this is simply a fallback idea in case we find we can’t get the farm’s finances into the black, or if Margot decides to take a break or even say good-bye to modeling.”
    “Well, you can count on my support.” Whatever decision was reached, she knew Travis would never sacrifice the quality of care and training of any horse. “And if I get this interior decorating business running, that’ll bring in money, too—not the kind Margot makes, but at least it will be something to add to the kitty.”
    “Speaking of taking on too much, I have a hunch that working for Nonie Harrison won’t be any picnic. She’s got a reputation for putting people who work for her through the wringer.”
    “I’m sure she won’t be that bad, though I confess to feeling unusually warm and fuzzy toward her right now,” shesaid with a smile as she stepped out of the box stall. Travis gave the colt a final scratch on the neck and drew the latch behind them.
    “I hope you’re right,” he said, as they walked toward the barn door. As Travis hit the lights, shutting off all but the center row, she stepped outside.
    Only a few errant clouds marred the night sky. Tomorrow would probably be as fair as today. When she talked to Nonie in the morning, she’d ask whether she could drop by the cottage with some paint chips so she could look at the colors with the light pouring in through the windows. She was eager to start work. It wasn’t everyone whose first commission entailed putting the finishing touches on such a great renovation project.
    The sound of Travis’s boots on the gravel courtyard roused her from her introspection. “The weather’s getting so lovely,” she said, still looking up at the night sky. “I’m going to start serving dinner out on the back porch. Better yet, maybe I should serve dinner for you and Margot out there. You two don’t get enough time to yourselves.”
    “Jordan, if there’s anyone who needs private time, it’s you. You do everything for the kids, you run the house for the rest of us, and now you’re starting this business. Don’t you think you need to do something for you alone? Not all guys are like Richard—”
    “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, Travis. Really. With a few exceptions—you and Ned and the rest of the guys at Rosewood—I’ve decided the male species is vastly overrated. Thanks to Nonie, I now have something far more interesting to think about.”
    Jordan lowered her tea mug to the kitchen counter with a loud clank. “You’re saying you’ve changed your mind? You want Owen Gage’s firm to decorate the cottage?” There was no way she could suppress the reed-thin note of disappointment in her voice.
    Nonie didn’t seem to notice, answering breezily, “It makes such better sense, Jordan. Owen and I talked after you left and the longer we discussed the pros and cons, the more I realized I’d really rather have Owen’s firm do the interior. With Owen I won’t have to worry about anything going wrong, and everything will come out just as I want. I’m sure you understand how it is. Listen, dear, I must fly, I have a hair appointment. Let’s lunch again soon. And you must come and see the cottage when it’s finished.”
    Like hell I will
, Jordan