Fearless Love Read Free Page A

didn’t expect much from him. Sooner or later, she’d probably have to start eviction proceedings if the little pissant didn’t light out on his own.
    Her gaze moved down to the final items on the list. The office building on Main with the store on the first floor. The empty lot on Spicewood she was planning to sell. The farm.
    She stopped, studying that entry. The farm. Harmon’s farm. Correction: the Carmody family farm that used to belong to Harmon. Still down by a payment, the one Harmon had missed after that first stroke. Why Harmon chose to saddle that silly child with the place was something Nedda would never understand. There was no way she’d make enough money from chickens to pay off Harmon’s debts.
    Or rather, she did understand what Harmon thought he was doing. She understood all too well. But it didn’t make any difference. Whatever Harmon had wanted to do, he’d still been stuck in the end—not enough money and not enough time. Maybe he didn’t want the farm in Nedda’s hands, but it wasn’t like he had much choice in the matter. He could try to postpone it, but he couldn’t change it. And, of course, he was dead. Which meant that whatever he’d planned was irrelevant.
    Nedda studied the numbers on the screen again, letting her lips slide into a rare smile. Harmon had already lost, and she was going to win. Finally, after forty years, she was going to win.

Chapter Two
    Joe had debated dropping the eggs off in the kitchen before he got his shower, but finally decided against it. He’d made a deal with himself back when he’d climbed out of his own personal pit—he’d never again show up in a kitchen in anything less than top shape. And that included being in chef’s whites. His pants might be black canvas with the Saints logo up the sides, but he held onto the white jacket as the mark of professionalism. For a while, it had been all he had to show that he was back on his game.
    Now he walked into his kitchen, black chef’s beanie in place, bandana knotted around his neck. The tall white toques French chefs wore struck him as slightly ridiculous—the beanie was good enough to confirm his status as the chief rooster in this particular kitchen. Rooster made him think of his new egg producer, which in turn made him smile as he put the egg cartons on the counter.
    Ms. MG Carmody looked a lot better than most of the chicken farmers he’d had dealings with over the years, even if she did give the impression of someone who wasn’t sure exactly of what she was doing. She also looked like someone who badly needed a second source of income. Twenty-five hens weren’t going to bring in enough to keep her farm going, unless she started producing something else along with the eggs.
    He nodded toward one of the line chefs, Darcy, who was washing micro greens for lunch. “Morning.”
    Darcy raised her head far enough for him to see the bright green tips of her hair and mumbled something that might have been a greeting or a curse.
    He sighed. Darcy had wanted the sous chef position that he’d recently opened up in the kitchen, although she hadn’t actually applied for it because he hadn’t actually asked her to apply. Of the three cooks at the Rose, she was the most qualified for the job—she had a culinary degree, her cooking skills were first rate and she worked like a son of a bitch. On the other hand, her people skills were virtually non-existent. And the sous chef would be in charge of the kitchen when Joe wasn’t watching. He figured if he’d hired Darcy, his other two cooks would have quit within a week.
    Of course, Darcy herself might quit now, given how pissed she was about the whole sous chef deal. The manager at the Silver Spur had already hired away Joe’s prep cook, and he happened to know Leo and Jorge were both getting offers. Fortunately, the salary and benefits package at the Rose was decent. Still, he needed to do something to smooth Darcy’s feathers. She might be a pain in the