Hanging his hat on the nearby hook, he turned to face Allison. "I really am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Abbie and I go back a long way and it's hard to pass up a chance to tease her."
"No problem. I might have gotten carried away just a little, but they're so good. I can't decide if it's the biscuit or the butter—"
"A bit of both I suppose. Frank makes the best biscuits in the county but if all you've ever had is store bought butter, then the real stuff seals the deal."
"I guess so." Allison had heard of friendly small town attitudes, but she'd always thought the occasional smile and nod from her Marin County neighbors was the same thing. She couldn't imagine this much conversation back home from someone she'd never met before. Not knowing what else to do, she smiled one last time then stabbed at her stew and pretended to read her book.
"It's over!"
Allison looked up in time to see a beaming older woman tear across the café and practically fly into the policeman's arms. Her hands went up to either side of his face and she stared up at him with pride and joy and an overload of love. Was this the aunt he told the waitress he was waiting for? The two looked more like mother and son. The whole scene made Allison smile.
Just as Allison was about to look away, the older woman's gaze caught hers and Allison desperately wanted to crawl under the table. She hated getting caught spying. "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
"Nonsense," the woman waved off her apology. "I wasn't exactly trying to keep a secret." Her arm shot out at Allison. "Eileen Callahan. You passing through or staying for a visit?"
Momentarily surprised, Allison accepted the proffered hand. "I'm not sure how long I'll be here yet."
"Don't let our sleepy town fool you, we've got some charming little shops and if you like ghost towns we're on the ghost town circle."
"Ghost town?" Seriously?
The policeman smiled. "The only thing Texas has more of than cows and oil wells is ghost towns. Over 900. Someone came up with the idea of drawing a line from abandoned town to town and turns out West Texas has a circle of abandoned property no one wants to live in."
"My niece owns the bed and breakfast in town and she has all kinds of information and maps on what to do in the area."
"Oh, I believe I have a reservation there. That is, if it's still the only accommodations in town."
"It is." Eileen rubbed her hands together. "You're going to love it."
The policeman, DJ, waved a hand up in the air and the other woman turned to flag down the man coming through the door. Tall, broad shouldered in jeans, a light blue button-down shirt, and what Allison guessed was a real Stetson, this was what she'd expected a Texas cowboy to look like. Except for the crutches. And even so he had a swagger that drew her eyes straight to the massive shiny buckle on his belt.
"How ya holding up, bro?" The policeman asked.
"Great."
Allison shouldn't have been listening, but something in the approaching man's voice had reached down inside her and latched on. She couldn't stop peeking over the top of her e-reader.
"Stopped a minute to say hi to Becky." The man on crutches had turned his back to her and was hanging his hat on a pole hook at the edge of the booth. She wasn't sure but she thought she saw the policeman bristle slightly. "Wanted to thank her for helping you. Means a lot to me."
The officer's shoulders clearly relaxed. "I'm sure she appreciated it."
The cowboy turned in her direction as he bent to slide into the booth. A slight grimace tensed around his mouth.
"Right." The policeman shook his head. "I can see how great you're feeling. You're supposed to stay off that leg for a reason."
"I'm fine." Scooting back, the cowboy smiled at his brother. He had a nice profile to match the voice. "If I don't move around at least a little I'll be a 90 pound weakling when I can finally chuck these crutches."
Somehow she doubted he'd ever be a weakling. She continued to dig into the stew and focused on her book. In the adjacent booth, the banter continued between the two men and their aunt. There were chuckles and jokes. Apparently what the aunt had been so excited about was that a police incident had been investigated and the man Allison now realized was the police chief had been cleared of any wrongdoing and was back in charge of the town. She didn't know why but for some reason that made her happy. She liked these people. The words on the electronic page faded as she found herself instead daydreaming about how different things might have been if her parents hadn't died young, if her own aunt had had a rapport with her and Francine the way this woman seemed to have with her nephews. The three formed the perfect picture. Then again, there was no such thing as the perfect family. Everyone had skeletons or black sheep.
Taking in the last bite of stew on her plate, she set the ebook down and looked up in search of the waitress. At that moment the man with the delicious voice and shiny buckle turned to his aunt and his beautiful green eyes locked with hers. His brows curled into a question seconds before his eyes opened wide with surprise. Holy moly. What the hell was the guy from the park in San Diego doing in this little Texas town?
Chapter Six
Ethan had to blink. Twice. And then again. Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him. No way the beautiful brunette in the booth behind them was the same woman from the park in San Diego. It just wasn't possible.
"What's wrong?" His aunt stretched her arm across the table and rested her hand on his.
When he spotted the same surprise he felt reflected back in the woman's eyes, he knew. It had to be her.
"Ethan?" Aunt Eileen tried again.
The concern in his aunt's voice pulled him back to her question. "Nothing, just a little surprised." He'd heard of small worlds but this was just a bit on the ridiculous side. Excitement at getting another chance to chat with her warred with a wariness from years on the battlefield. Shame on anyone who bought into something too good to be true. They usually found themselves owners of beachfront property in the desert.
"Hi." Her voice came out a little shaky.
He couldn't blame her. He was feeling rather shaken-up himself. A smile might be appropriate. Camouflage. Never let them see you sweat. "Hello."
His aunt turned her head to look at the young lady and back at him.
"Glad to see you've at least got the leg elevated," the brunette said, her smile a little stronger.
"Yeah. It's coming along."
"Good. Good."
His aunt looked back and forth again and this time DJ was the one with a frown on his face. "I gather you two know each other?" DJ asked.
"Not exactly." The woman tilted her head as though studying him. Only a hint of a smile now teased her lips, but the concern in her gaze no doubt kept it at bay.
"We met briefly in California," he explained.
All the color drained from his aunt's face, her head snapped around to look at the woman again and then twisted back just as quickly to stare questioningly at Ethan. It took him a few seconds to read the panic in her eyes. He shook his head. No, this wasn't the mother of his child. Fancy was a plastic, tired, blue-eyed natural blonde. The gal across looked way younger than the years she'd have to be for a doctor and her gray eyes played well against her dark hair.
His aunt blew out a heavy breath and Ethan twisted his hand from under hers to give a reassuring squeeze.
"You must live around here?" The brunette's eyes narrowed in thought. She was struggling hard to make sense of the coincidence.
"Technically I live in California, but this is home."
"Oh. I see." The hesitation in her voice said exactly the opposite. "Where's your dog?"
"My dog?"
His aunt snapped her head around again and mumbled dog.
"The one that stole my lunch."
Ethan shook his head. "I don't have a dog. I thought he was yours."
"Nope." The woman shook her head.
His aunt turned her head back and forth, keeping up with the conversation like a proverbial tenn
is match, her eyes growing with interest. "What kind of dog?"
They both looked to his aunt, but she was the first to speak. "Shaggy."
"Shaggy?" The corner of his aunt's lips tilted up in a slight smile.
Ethan ignored his aunt. "He didn't look like a stray. I guess he belonged to someone else at the park."
"Stray?" his aunt repeated, her grin growing.
DJ coughed and swallowed a smile of his own. What the heck was up with these two?
At his muffled cough, the lady turned to his brother, who was leaning against the window. Her gaze drifted over his shoulder and she raised her hand to point. "Like that one."
All heads in Ethan's booth whipped around to the large dog sitting on the curb, staring up at the café window. DJ laughed outright.
"He's back." His aunt rubbed her hands together with vigor and turned to the woman. "Isn't this nice. I didn't catch your name."
"Allison."
"And what did you say brought you to Tuckers Bluff?"
"Business. Personal business." Her gaze met Ethan's and he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that he wasn't going to like whatever that business was.
"Well," his aunt straightened in her seat, "as soon as you get settled in, we'll have to have Adam, my nephew, bring you to the ranch. Like I said before, his wife runs the bed and breakfast you're staying at. I'd be pleased to show you some true Texas hospitality."
"Aunt Eileen," DJ's words were said softly, but through his teeth.
Ethan was definitely missing something.
"It's been a long flight and drive. I just need to rest up a bit and then tend to my business. But I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Callahan."
"Mrs. Callahan was my mother. Most folks call me Aunt Eileen." She turned to DJ. "Go ahead and tell her she's perfectly safe with us."
"I'm not so sure about that," DJ mumbled.
"Oh," Allison's hand flew to her chest and her eyes rounded. "I didn't mean to imply—"
"Of course not." Aunt Eileen waved off her concerns. "No offense taken, but you can't pass through town without at least trying my glazed Texas pecan pie. I insist." Aunt Eileen turned to Ethan. "Why don't you extend a proper invitation to the lady, maybe it will sound better from a nice single gentleman."
Oh hell, Ethan sighed.
"And where are my manners. This is my other nephew, Ethan—"
That startled look returned to Allison's eyes.
"—Farraday," his aunt finished.
"Farraday?" Allison mumbled, her gaze darting from one man to the other.
"Are you all right?" DJ waved for the waitress.
Ethan almost sprang out of his seat. Like his aunt earlier, all the color had drained from the brunette's lovely face and he was a little worried she was going to keel over.
"Ready for desert?" Abbie came up beside the table.
"I think the lady could use some more water," Ethan said.
"No." Allison shook her head. "No. I, uh, I need to get going. How far is the bed and breakfast?"
Abbie pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "Just up the road a piece."
"Good." Allison nodded. "Where do I pay the check?"
"We don't stand on ceremony around here. Usually folks pay at the register but I can take it for you."
"No. No. That's fine." She scooped up her purse and slid out of the booth. "I'll pay at the register. Turning back, she looked at the three of them, some of the color returning to her cheeks. "I will be seeing you again. Soon."
Aunt Eileen forced a smile. "I'll hold you to that."
"Yes. Goodnight."
The gal ran off like she'd seen the grim reaper himself, and Ethan figured now was as good a time as any to test his theory. "I'll be back in just a minute."
"Where are you going?" his aunt asked.
"To talk to her."
Aunt Eileen eased back in her seat. "Good idea. Go talk to her."
"Aunt Eileen," DJ uttered an exasperated sigh. Ethan would have to figure out what was going on with his brother and aunt later. Right now he had to hobble his way after the woman before she got away. He didn't know who Allison was, but he hoped to hell it had nothing to do with Brittany. Except every fiber in his body told him exactly that.
***
Allison shoved the café door open, hurried to her rental car, and, safely inside, sucked in a deep breath. Ethan Farraday. The entire reason she'd flown to Texas and driven to Tuckers Bluff was to see her niece and talk face to face with Ethan Farraday. So what did she do at the first mention of his name? Run like a scared rabbit. And she was no timid bunny. She'd faced roaches the size of rats in a jungle with snakes bigger than a city sewer line while performing twenty-first century medicine in a prehistoric setting. But just the mention of his name and here she sat in a parked car.
What she needed was to get the heck out of here and regroup. She hadn't expected to run into her niece's father in the local café. Which in hindsight was probably a stupid assumption in a town this size. Nor did she expect to like them all so much. Damn it.
Rummaging through her purse, she found the key and placed it in the ignition. A rap on the window shoved her already unsettled nerves into overdrive. Balancing on his crutches, Ethan Farraday stood by her car door. So much for regrouping.
He didn't say or do anything, he merely waited for her to open her window. As soon as the glass had lowered enough, he leaned slightly forward. "Who are you?"
Resigning herself to the situation, she blew out a heavy breath. "Allison Monroe." Ethan said nothing, he simply waited for her. "My full name is Beatrice Allison Monroe."
"The sister." He shook his head, tenseness in his shoulders told her he'd known all along what she was going to say. "We need to talk."
A nod didn't seem like enough, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate to form words.
"Not here," he added.
"Where?" she managed to ask softly.
"You asked for the B&B. Is that where you're staying?"
Allison nodded.
"I'll go get my aunt and meet you there."
"And the baby?"
His jaw tightened. "She's at the ranch."
She hadn't realized how badly she wanted to see her niece until the disappointment slammed into her at his answer. "All right. Give me a little time to settle in first."
He nodded again.
"Now if you'll excuse me." Her fingers shook slightly as she reached for the key and she hoped Ethan didn't notice.
Dipping his chin once in affirmation, he hobbled in reverse away from the door.
When she was sure he was safely away from the car, she backed out of the parking lot. In the rearview mirror she spotted that dog sitting at the edge of the lot staring in her direction. She shook her head and mumbled, "Wonder if you have any relatives in Southern California?"
Chapter Seven
Leaning heavily on one foot and rotating the other ankle, Abbie flipped the switch to brew a fresh pot of coffee and grabbed the last hot carafe. Her feet were protesting—strongly. Time for a new pair of shoes. She spent good money on the best work shoes possible, but working six and half days a week, the extra arch support had a shorter than promised life expectancy.
"Have you ever considered a day off?" Frank the cook slid a fresh pie into the display. "A full day."
"Nope." The only thing she'd gain from a long day off was 24 hours to think and remember. Work was her friend.
Shaking his head, Frank closed the glass doors. "Even Marines get some R&R."
Wasn't he one to talk. Frank worked more hours than she did. With the still warm carafe of coffee in her hand, she spun around to make the rounds again and spotted Ethan on the phone by the door. From the look on his face, she could tell the table would probably need a stiff drink but coffee would have to do.
"You seriously have to let go of the dog thing, Aunt Eileen." DJ shook his head at his aunt. "It's not like this dog is trotting across the country to pick out wives for your nephews."
"See," Eileen waved a finger at him, "you thought of it too."
Abbie bit back a chuckle. She had no idea what the heck these two were disagreeing about but if she had to place bets, she'd go with the Farraday matriarch. "More coffee?"
Aunt Eileen shook her head while DJ looked at his wrist. "Maybe one more."
"Are you giving your aunt a hard time?" she asked.
"He's just being a man," Eileen answered. "And speaking of men, we may be a small town but we've still got some good single men."
Abbie felt a grin pull at her cheeks. From anyone else she would have taken offense. But somehow, when the ladies afternoon social club took to matchmaking, she was glad she'd never quite gotten in their crosshairs. "What can I tell you Ms. Eileen, I'm just too hot to handle."
The older woman burst out laughing. "I bet you are."
DJ winked at her and Abbie thought for the millionth time how glad she was that he'd found the perfect woman. The good guys deserved great women, and Becky was turning out to be stellar. Abbie, on the other hand, was happily married to her café. Life was just easier that way.
***
Ethan paused outside the café door, pulled out his phone, and called his sister-in-law.
"Ethan!" Meg answered.
"Hey. Listen. We've got a situation."
"What's wrong?" The enthusiasm in her voice slipped away.
"You've got a guest about to check in. An Allison Monroe."
"Yes."
"She's Francine's sister."
"What?" Meg's voice rose an octave. "Isn't Francine's last name Langdon?"
"Yeah, that's her married name." He should have seen this coming.
"Wait. Married?"
He could picture the frown on Meg's face. "She's divorced." At least that was the story she'd told him and he hadn't looked that closely on the report Brooklyn had sent. "I think."
"You think?" Meg's tone took on a sharpness he hadn't heard before. "That's pretty damn important."
"And not the point at the moment."
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