Chapter 20

20

C almly, Ry said, "You don't want to ruin Wolf and Ana's party and embarrass Harper, Dad. Let's take this outside."

Shy Blackwood stormed off without a backward glance as party guests watched him head to the doors and slam one open.

Emerson caught his wrist, worry etched across her face. "Should I?—"

"No, babe. I've known this showdown was coming for a long time. This is between Dad and me. I'll deal with him."

He brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek and kissed her softly. "Try not to worry."

"Fat chance," she murmured.

Ry glanced across the room to Dax, who also looked concerned. He mouthed, "Play."

Immediately, Dax launched into another song with a pounding beat. The crowd responded, and guests began dancing and talking again as Ry crossed the room and exited the event center. He saw his father pacing about fifty yards away and steeled himself, walking toward him.

The minute his dad spotted him, he marched toward Ry, thrusting his cell phone in Ry's face.

"What is this crap all on our website? You've got a lot of explaining to do, Ryland William Blackwood."

He tried not to wince. The last time his dad had used his full birth name was when he confronted Ry about coming home drunk after homecoming.

That was fifteen years ago.

"It's not crap," he said, deliberately keeping his tone even. "I learned a lot when I was cooking in the army, Dad. Asian people really enjoy barbeque. I?—"

"Hell could freeze over— and I wouldn't serve anything that ain't pure Texas barbeque in my restaurant. The Blackwood name stands for something, Ry. Something good and pure. Texas and barbeque go hand-in-hand. I learned how to smoke from my daddy and granddaddy, and I'm not gonna change and frou-frou it up."

He jabbed his finger at the cell phone, and Ry could see that the catering page was on the screen.

"I'm pissed you went behind my back and slapped all this on the website. A website I never even wanted. And you're serving this stuff at wedding receptions? And tonight?"

"Because people enjoy it, Dad," he said firmly. "Yes, traditional Blackwood barbeque is magical, and people enjoy eating it. I still provide plenty of that to Harper's wedding guests. But times change, Dad. People look for new things, especially brides and grooms who are trying to make their wedding day special. Yes, Harper and I offer them everything Blackwood BBQ makes. Brisket. Pork. Sausage. Chicken. You name it, I smoke it the way you taught me, and I'm damn good at it.

"But while I was in the military, I played around with merging the barbeque I knew and loved with the Asian flavors I was discovering, both from being stationed in South Korea and on my travels. Soldiers liked it, Dad. Really liked it. I knew one day, when I came home to Lost Creek, I would want to incorporate that into the meats I smoked."

"You should've never come home then, Ry," his father said, bitterness spilling from him. "What you've done ain't right. You've ruined my good name and all the work I've put into Blackwood BBQ all these years."

"No, I haven't," he protested loudly, his temper now flaring. "I'm giving people a choice. And they're enjoying both, Dad. The Texan and the fusion barbeque. Go inside and taste a few things. Ask around and see what everyone thought about the food. Wolf and Ana handpicked every item served at the various stations tonight. Harper's thrilled that my new menu offerings are bringing in even more clients. Even Jack Calder came back to tell me how much he was enjoying what we served tonight."

His father gave him a withering look. "I don't care what they think. It's wrong on every stinkin' level, Ry. You've tarnished the Blackwood name and our legacy in the barbeque world. I want you to get that crap off the website. Better yet, shut the damn thing down. And you tell Harper that the catering goes back to basics, starting tomorrow. I won't allow you to serve?—"

"You won't allow me?" he asked, his anger full-blown now. "I'm a grown man, Dad. Not the kid who graduated from high school and took off to see the world a dozen years ago. You don't tell me what to do. I make my own decisions."

Shy Blackwood let out a string of curses. "You're done. I don't want you at the restaurant ever again. I'll take over the catering from now on and if Harper and her brides don't like it, they can all go to hell! By God, it's going to be Blackwood BBQ— or nothing at all."

Ry stood firm, even though his heart was breaking at their fallout.

"You're welcome to it," he said. "But you're going to lose a lot of business, you pig-headed old man."

Shy narrowed his eyes, glaring at Ry. "I'd rather lose business than serve what you make. And I'll burn down the entire damn place before I ever think of leaving it to you."

A lump formed in his throat. He loved his dad, but sixty-year-old Shy Blackwood was old school all the way. And Ry wasn't going to compromise.

Even if it cost him his relationship with the man he'd worshiped since the time he could walk.

"I don't want the family business," he said.

"Good. Because you ain't family no more."

With that, his father strode away.

Ry watched him retreat, the ache heavy in his heart, like a physical pain which might never heal. Turning, he slowly made his way back to the event center, opening the door, hearing Dax singing The Eagles' Already Gone . Partiers were on their feet, dancing, singing along, celebrating the end of making their movie.

He owed it to Harper to find her and let her know what was up, but first, he searched for Emerson, who was huddled with Ivy. When she saw him, she threw her arms around him.

"It's okay," he said, trying to comfort her.

"You look upset. How did it go?" she asked.

"He was exactly the Shy Blackwood I know. Obstinate. Inflexible. Not willing to compromise on a single thing." He hesitated. "I'm out."

Emerson frowned. "What do you mean, out?"

"I don't work for Blackwood BBQ anymore. Dad is taking over the catering."

"He can't do that," she protested.

"He can do whatever he wants. He's the owner."

Ry looked to Ivy. "You better take down the website. Dad is livid about the additions I've made on the catering menu. He wants it scuttled."

Ivy eyed him with sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Ry. I'll do it immediately. What I can do is make it inactive for now. Just in case he changes his mind. That way, we wouldn't have to build all the pages again."

"You do whatever you need to do, Ivy. He's furious with me. I don't want you to get caught up in the crossfire." He sighed. "I need to talk to Harper."

"I'll go with you," Emerson offered, taking his hand.

They found Harper and pulled her aside.

"Thank you for not letting Shy make a scene in front of everyone, Ry," Harper said. "I appreciated you stepping in as you did."

"I need to give you a heads up, Harper. Dad will be handling the catering for you in the future."

"What?" Harper rarely became flustered, but her face grew red now. "Is this over the new items?"

"Exactly. You know Dad. He's a charter member of the nothing needs to change school of thought. He'll give your brides the traditional choices currently on the Blackwood BBQ menu, but he refuses to serve anything that I've come up with. In fact, I just told Ivy to take down the website. He wants it gone."

Harper frowned. "That means back to limited choices. Plated dinners. No stations." Her eyes welled with tears. "Oh, Ry, what am I going to do? Several of the upcoming weddings want your menu items. Those brides and grooms have specifically wanted your spin on barbeque. Those couples could walk now. Even sue me."

Braden had joined them. "You don't need this kind of stress. It's not good for the baby." He slipped his arm about his wife's shoulders. "All I heard is Shy is going back to catering receptions. But if he can't fulfill the contracts, then Ry should take over those."

Steal his dad's business?

He would say that would have him disbarred from the family— but it already looked as if Shy had booted his only child out the door.

"Hell. Why not?" he ventured.

Emerson asked, "Does this mean you'll open your own business? Compete with Blackwood BBQ?"

"I don't want to," he admitted. "In fact, it's the last thing I want. Mom in the middle. Open warfare declared. But I made a commitment to Harper's clients. If my dad isn't willing to give them what they're asking for, I refuse to allow them to walk away and cost Harper business."

He drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly. "I'll need to look into buying a smoker because Dad'll clear out the ones behind the event center quicker than I can spit." His gaze met Harper's. "Contact your clients and give them the opportunity to go with a traditional menu if they've selected something different. If they still want what I have to offer, then I'll make certain they get what they want. Just share those dates with me."

"Thank you, Ry," Harper said, squeezing his arm. "I can't imagine how rough this is on you." She paused. "Shy'll come around. Give him time."

But he knew his dad. Shy Blackwood was a good soul, the kind of man who was loyal and kind and would give a down-and-out man his last dollar. What Shy wasn't was the kind of guy who changed his mind or got out of his comfort zone. This rift between them was likely to widen instead of shrink. Ry had done the unthinkable.

Messed with Texas barbeque.

And Shy Blackwood would never forgive him for such a cardinal sin.

"I'll call every bride who's booked items from your catering menu tomorrow, Ry," Harper continued. "By the end of the day, I should know which ones will allow Blackwood BBQ to cater their receptions— and which ones prefer to go with you. Do you have a name you could use for your business?"

Ry thought a moment. "Smokin' Sweethearts."

"I like it," Braden said. "It's catchy. Alliterative."

He turned to Emerson. "Are you ready to go home?"

She nodded. They said goodnight and drove back to her house, shedding their clothes and crawling into bed together. He held her in his arms, glad for her love and warmth.

Then Ry made love to her tenderly. Even so, they climaxed together in a shattering moment of emotions. He couldn't help it, suddenly overcome by the consequences of tonight's argument. He cried for all that he had lost, Emerson comforting him.

As they spooned together, he knew how lucky he was to have this woman by his side.

And he needed to make it official.

"Emerson?" he asked softly.

"Mmm?"

No. She was too sleepy now. Worn out from the long, hard day. When he asked her to formerly marry him, he needed it to be special. Just as she was.

"I love you," he told her, his arms tightening about her.

"I love you, too," she replied, her breathing quickly evening out as she fell asleep.

Ry might have lost his job and his relationship with his dad.

But he had the love of a good woman. One he planned to marry as soon as possible.