Nordic Heroes: In the Market and a Wholesale Arrangement by Day Leclaire

chair. “No?”
    “No.”
    “Uncle Cletus,” Jordan began, only to be silenced by a stern look from Rainer.
    He returned to his seat on the stool, his posture relaxed, casual even. It didn’t fool her one tiny bit. She knew determination when she saw it, and this man positively screamed determination. “You received a letter from us a few months ago. Perhaps you recall?”
    The older man’s eyes shifted evasively. “Can’t say that I do.”
    “Uncle Cletus?” Jordan stared at him in sudden suspicion. “What’s he talking about?”
    Rainer cut in. “Since your uncle didn’t receive the letter, I’m sure he doesn’t know. I do. Our letter outlined a proposition we wanted your uncle to evaluate.” His gaze turned cool and direct, and vaguely threatening. “Thorsen Produce is looking to expand. Realizing this has always been Cornucopia’s turf and realizing how close the two families have been all these years—”
    Jordan couldn’t resist a small unladylike snort.
    “Gesundheit. As I was saying, considering the close family ties, we wouldn’t want Cornucopia to feel any loss due to our expansion.”
    “Why, thank you.” Uncle Cletus beamed. “I’m sure Canada will be delighted to welcome a Thorsen Produce Market.”
    “No doubt.” Nor was there any doubt about the irony in Rainer’s voice. “Unfortunately we were thinking about Seattle’s northern suburbs. Say, Queen Anne Hill or Magnolia or even Blue Ridge.”
    Cletus frowned. “That’s getting a mite close, son. I mean, there’s such a thing as being too neighborly.” Jordan gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.
    “I couldn’t agree more.” Rainer glanced from one to the other. “That’s why we want to make you a small proposition. A lucrative proposition.”
    The older man perked up at that. “Lucrative?”
    “Quite.”
    Jordan wondered if her uncle heard the derision in Rainer’s tone as clearly as she did. So he thought her uncle could be bought, did he? He’d soon learn differently. You couldn’t put a price on family, and that was precisely what Cornucopia was. Family.
    “We’d like to buy Cornucopia from you.”
    “Buy Cornucopia! How dare you!” Cletus thundered.
    Jordan wanted to cheer. Way to go. You tell him! She kept her hand on his shoulder, the touch one of restraint now, rather than comfort. She shot Rainer a triumphant grin.
    “We’re prepared to pay generously.”
    Cletus slammed his fist onto the checkerboard crate, narrowly missing a mango. “You can’t put a price on a man’s blood and sweat. You insult me!” He drew a deep breath. “Just out of curiosity, how much are you prepared to insult me with?”
    Rainer mentioned a figure that left Jordan more than a little stunned. She turned a concerned gaze on Cletus. She didn’t feel quite so cocky anymore. Rainer offered a lot of money. A whole lot of money.
    Cletus drew a shaky breath. “That’s quite an insult,” he muttered, then rallied. “Even so, you can’t have Cornucopia for any price.” He made the statement with quiet dignity. “My father started this store turning it over to me. I promised it would be Jordan’s when I retire to my chicken ranch in New Mexico.”
    “Arizona.”
    “Exactly.” Cletus grabbed Jordan’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m sure you understand the importance of family in these matters.”
    Rainer inclined his head. “I do. I also understand the importance of business.” He eyed them both, his gaze wintry. “Fair warning. We’re expanding northward. You can bow to the inevitable, take what you can, and head for your chicken ranch, or—” He paused, his ruthlessness hiding every scrap of charm. “Or you can lose it all.”
    “You can’t be serious!” Jordan protested. “Are you threatening to put Cornucopia out of business?”
    “Promising. I don’t make—”
    “Threats. I remember, you make promises,” she said, a sarcastic edge creeping into her voice. “It’s impossible to break