Winter at Mustang Ridge by Jesse Hayworth

dough in ruler-straight lines. “Tell me about this guest. What’s the issue?”
    “Her name is Missy Mackey, and she’s . . . Well, let’s just say that if we met at a party, we’d probably annoy each other. Anyway, she booked a romantic getaway for her and hubby’s third anniversary, and just realized she put in for the wrong week. Now she wants us to fix it. And by ‘wants’ I mean ‘will likely trash us on every review site known to mankind if she doesn’t get her way.’ Problem is, her anniversary falls on the one week next summer that Krista is already fully booked. First week in June.”
    Gran made an “ouch” face. “Ricci-Norris week. Doesn’t that just figure?”
    “What’s a Ricci-Norris?” Jenny had thought she knew all of the theme weeks Krista put on to help entice guests to the ranch, everything from Singles Week to Rodeo Week, but she’d never heard of that one.
    “Not what, who. Antonia Ricci and Dale Norris. It’s a wedding.”
    “A . . . oh.” She took a sip of tea, remembering her sister’s enthusiasm over the idea of adding wedding planning to the ranch’s repertoire last year.
Shudder
. “Good for Krista.”
    “But too bad for Missy.”
    “Who is
not
going to be happy about this. Ten bucks says she cancels, demands her nonrefundable deposit back, and then complains to anyone who’ll listen.” Which could mean a hit to the ranch’s rep, given that most people would rather read a scathing rant or watch idiots scheming against one another for a million-dollar prize than read a complimentary review or watch a solid documentary.
    “So give her a reason to stick with her original reservation and be happy about it.”
    That brought Jenny’s head up. “Like what? A discount?”
    “I was more thinking along the lines of up-charges.” Gran slid the cookie sheets into the oven and set the timer. Then, cupping her mug in both hands, she leaned back against the counter, eyes narrowing in concentration. “Is her current reservation a week early or a week late?”
    “Late.”
    “Perfect.”
    “Says who?”
    “Me.” Smiling now, Gran sipped her tea. “Tell her to make it a surprise for her husband. She’ll need to have him take that week off from work, but she can turn the rest of it into a big mystery. And then, for the day of their anniversary, we’ll ship a special picnic basket—cheese, cookies, champagne, that sort of thing—and she can make a big announcement about their upcoming Wild West adventure.”
    Jenny nodded, wheels starting to turn. “Good. That’s good. And exactly the sort of thing I think she would go for.” Over the top, with no extra effort on Missy’s part. “We can include information on the ranch and a big card inviting them for their special anniversary celebration the following week. So they’re actually celebrating twice, and Missy looks like a star for planning everything out. She can even have a party back home on the day of their actual anniversary, so there’s a public unveiling of her big gift, with lots of
ooh
s and
aah
s.”
    “And some free advertising for us,” Gran put in, eyes twinkling. “We can also do a private catered dinner on the last night they’re here. Table for two under the gazebo, candles, even a fiddler or guitarist if they’d like.”
    “Let’s not go overboard.”
    “Poosh. It’s not the first or last time we’ll do a little extra for a guest. And charge them for it, of course. Just because the customer is always right, doesn’t mean they get it for free. Especially when they start off by giving us grief.”
    Jenny laughed. “Amen to that.” She lifted her mug and was surprised to find it empty. Setting it back in the saucer with a click, she stood, crossed to Gran, and kissed her cheek. “It’s perfect. You’re the best.” Enthused by the solution, she twirled away. “I’m going to deal with this right now.”
    “Do you want to wait and bring some cookies up with you?”
    “Tempting, but