Cowboy in Disguise

by ALLISON LEIGH,

Jay unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Long as I can trust you not to out me now, they’ll just have to keep looking. Far as I’m concerned, Jett Carr’s dead and gone.”

  “And Jay Cross is happy being a hotel trainee in small-town Texas?”

  Arabella’s image danced in Jay’s mind. Without Teas in his rearview mirror, looking into her beautiful eyes would be a lot easier. “Happier than he’s got a right to be.”

  Teas clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck with that, then. Just have t’say that I’ve learned one thing in all my years of police work. Secrets tend to come out.”

  Another thing on which the detective and Jay’s grandmother would agree.

  He pulled his hat down over his eyes as he walked out into the morning sunshine.

  He was surprised at how much time had passed with the detective. But then he hadn’t intended to treat the meeting like the confessional it had become. He’d just planned to tell the cop the basics about his history in California, buy his silence if it became necessary and get on with his day.

  Petunia’s flower shop was down the street and on the spur of the moment, Jay pulled over and parked in front. Inside, he picked a pot of geraniums off the shelf only because the small clay pot wore a pair of pink sunglasses above a pair of equally pink painted lips. Then he added another fern to his choice because he couldn’t seem to pass one without feeling he ought to buy it for his grandmother.

  He’d inherited the habit from Herb. Because as many times as Jay had come to town with his grandfather to pay those parking tickets, when they drove back out to the farm, Jay had invariably been holding a potted fern on his lap.

  He carried the pots over to Petunia where she was talking with her dad and set them on the counter. She gave him a smile, though she looked as if she’d had about as much sleep as he had. She rang up his selections on an old-fashioned cash register. “Heard about the trouble over at the hotel. How’re things coming along?”

  He pulled several bills from his wallet and handed them to her. “As well as they can, from what I know.” Which, admittedly, wasn’t all that much. “Figured I’d drop by on my way back to my grandmother’s place just to check in.”

  “Give them all my best. They sure could stand a bit of good luck, couldn’t they?”

  Truer words. Jay looked at Norman. “Going to see you out at Mariana’s this Saturday, Norm?”

  “What business is it of yours?” The old man nearly barked the words.

  “My grandmother’s gonna have the last of her strawberry jam for the summer out there.” He smiled cautiously. “Figure the way you go through it, you’ll want to stock up while you can.”

  The old man blinked. Then as if a lightbulb had come on, he nodded. “You tell Louella I’ll be there.”

  Jay wished he could say that his grandmother would be there, too, but since she was still prohibited from getting anywhere near Mabel, he was already planning on manning the booth for her. He was also counting on Arabella to keep him company.

  He pocketed the change that Petunia gave him and with the box she’d settled the plants into in hand, went out to his truck.

  He’d just placed the box on the passenger-side floor when Petunia knocked on his window. He rolled it down. “Did I forget something?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just wanted to explain about Dad. He hasn’t really been himself these days.”

  Jay nodded, not really sure how to respond. “My grandmother’s already told me about the problem he has with his meds.”

  She looked relieved. “I’m trying to find a solution for him, but he’s a determined old guy, you know? Independent as hell and the idea of having someone monitor anything he does is hard for him to swallow. The only person he tolerates these days is my nephew. I’m sorry if he sounded rude.”

  “No worries.”

  She reached in and squeezed his arm. “Louella’s always said what a good boy you are and she’s right.”

  He actually felt his neck get hot. “Um—”

  She laughed slightly. “Now I’ve gone and embarrassed you, which wasn’t my intention at all.” She stepped back onto the curb. “One of these days, buy Louella something besides a fern!” Then she disappeared inside her shop.

  He looked down at the plant. “What’s wrong with a fern?”

  It took only a few minutes to get to the hotel.

  There was a sign posted on the front door that it was temporarily closed, but when he pulled it open, it wasn’t locked.

  He went inside.

  The lobby smelled vaguely musty but there were big fans positioned in every corner blowing air noisily across the floor. Baseboards were gone, and the lower portions of drywall had been cut away from the walls, leaving the studs exposed. Whatever repairs were going to be needed, they couldn’t even get started until everything was fully dried out.

  The fans seemed to be the only occupants, though.

  He looked into the office behind the registration desk but it was empty. So was the security office.

  The elevators were locked on the first floor and he wandered past them, sticking his head around the door to Roja.

  He earned a look from the group of Fortunes sitting at one of the tables.

  Brady’s eyes narrowed when he spotted Jay. “What do you want, Cross?”

  To marry your sister.

  The words popped into his head, making Jay forget for a moment why he’d even walked in there in the first place.

  Callum rose and walked toward him. “Something on your mind?”

  Jay swallowed and focused on the older man’s face. It was a lot easier than the glaring one that Brady possessed. “I was just checking on how things were going. Insurance and all that.”

  Callum’s brows rose. “You know about insurance?”

  “I used to.” He looked past Callum to Wiley. He was a lawyer. Nothing showed in his expression. But Steven and his brother Dillon were contractors. Easier to read. “They’re denying the claim?”

  Arabella’s other brother Kane, who’d been involved with the hotel from the start, was the only one who nodded. “Wiley’s been talking about filing a suit.”

  “They’ll pay it if you’ll agree to a higher premium,” Jay said. “It’d be quicker and less expensive in the long run than a lawsuit.”

  “That’s not news,” Brady snapped. “You know how much of a higher premium?”

  Jay calculated a moment, then named a figure that had all of the men sitting back with surprise. He figured he was at least within a few thousand dollars of being on target.

  “That’s oddly accurate,” Callum admitted. “Problem is, coming up with that much is a bit of a problem. It’s not as if it’s a onetime investment. Collectively, we can pitch in from our own pockets but—”

  Wiley’s hands were fisted on top of the table. “But considering we don’t know who’s trying to sabotage the hotel in the first place, maybe it’s safer for everyone if we just cut our losses now. Nobody wants to throw good money after bad.”

  No matter how many golden eggs those Fortunes had, Jay knew it couldn’t be all that easy increasing their investments to such a degree.

  “The town needs this hotel,” Steven said quietly. Jay knew he was married to the mayor. “It’s coming to stand for everything that Rambling Rose is. Embraces the past. Welcomes the future.”

  “Sounds straight from Ellie’s lips,” Dillon muttered.

  “So what if it is?” Steven countered. “She’s right.”

  Callum dropped his arm over Jay’s shoulder and showed him right back to the door. “I’ll trust you not to say anything about this before our staff meeting on Monday,” he said quietly.

  Jay nodded and felt Brady Fortune’s eyes burning a hole into his spine as he left.

  * * *

  “Where’s Brady?” Arabella slid into her seat at the
breakfast table and reached for the stack of toast in the center.

  “Went to the hotel again.” Harper was nursing a cup of tea, looking vaguely green around the gills.

  “You feeling okay?”

  “Morning sickness,” she admitted. “Why does it have to hit now when Brady’s so worried about the hotel?”

  “Maybe stress makes it worse.” Arabella could see the twins through the doorway to the living area. They were bouncing recklessly on the couch and the fact that Harper didn’t even seem to notice was enough to call for action. “Go back up to bed,” she urged. “Sleep as long as you want. I’ll keep the boys occupied today.”

  “I was going to take them out to ride again with Laurel.”

  “I’ll take them,” she promised.

  “But you don’t know how to ride at all.”

  “I know a little bit,” she assured primly. “Jay showed me. And I’m sure he’d be willing to come with us, anyway, if you’re so worried about my ability.”

  “I know you’ll take care of the boys,” Harper said quickly, looking horrified that she might have implied otherwise.

  Arabella reached over and gave her a quick squeeze. “Go back to bed. Or take a bath. Whatever.”

  “Maybe I’ll just hug the porcelain goddess,” Harper muttered, but she got up looking grateful and left the room.

  Arabella finished slathering Lou’s jam on her toast and shoved half of it in her mouth as she went into the living room. She snapped her fingers at Murphy who obediently slunk off the couch where he wasn’t allowed and then caught Toby around the waist mid-jump. She swallowed her mouthful and set him on the ground. “You know you’re not supposed to bounce on the couch.” She grabbed Tyler, too, and set him on the floor next to his brother.

  “But—”

  “No jumping on the couch!”

  There were blocks scattered all over the floor. The Candy Land game they usually loved was upended in the corner, little pieces strewn about. Just looking at the mess made her actually long for the simplicity of cleaning a hotel room.

  “Come on, guys. Let’s clean up and later after you’re dressed, I’ll take you out to see Auntie Laurel and her horses.”

  “I want to watch TV,” Tyler groused.

  “Yeah, and I want a million dollars,” she grumbled. Then she smiled and scrubbed her hand over his tousled hair. “Come on. Clean up and we’ll negotiate the matter of TV.” She knew that negotiating was something the boys were well-acquainted with, thanks to Harper.

  Tyler halfheartedly tossed a block into the bucket where they belonged. “Harper’s sneaky. She gives us five minutes before bed, but we gotta only read together.”

  Arabella laughed and went down onto her hands and knees alongside them. “The horror. Come on, we’ll all do it together.” Roving around, she gathered up a handful of blocks but before long, she was the only one cleaning up the mess on the floor, which proved her negotiating skills weren’t up to Harper’s level at all. Instead, Arabella was just a sucker for the boys.

  At least the two eventually went upstairs and returned, suitably attired in mismatched shorts and T-shirts. Toby’s hair was damp so she was fairly certain he’d washed his face and Tyler had a smear of toothpaste on his shirt, so she felt confident he’d brushed his teeth.

  Considering all of that to be ticks in the win column, she handed them the television remote. “Your channels only,” she warned. Brady had locked down their ability to unintentionally tune in to something too mature for them.

  It usually meant that when Arabella actually felt like watching something on television, she was reduced to watching classic cartoons or kid-friendly videos on YouTube.

  After a brief tussle for control of the remote, Tyler won and Arabella went back into the kitchen to have another piece of toast. It was cold by now, but the strawberry jam made up for it. She cleaned up the kitchen and realized she was humming along with the dreaded earworm song when it sounded from the other room.

  She stuck her head into the living room, prepared to tell the kids to find another channel.

  But they were standing there giggling and dancing the floss and she didn’t have the heart. Instead, she pulled her own cell phone out of her back pocket and without their knowledge started filming them.

  She’d send it to her parents later. They’d love it.

  The song had a heavy beat. Oddly gut-wrenching really in comparison to the lively steps the boys were doing. She glanced at the TV screen above the boys’ head.

  The video was deliberately blurry in the way that some were. Sort of jerky, even. Focusing on the singer’s long fingers as he strummed his gleaming guitar while his unbuttoned shirt fluttered from an unseen breeze. Then on his bearded profile as he crooned to some invisible lover. “Giving it all up. Gonna be someone new.” His dark head dipped again, giving little more than a flash of dark sunglasses and a dip of his cowboy hat. “Never gonna trust again.” His deep voice curled over the words and despite herself, Arabella felt a tingle down her spine.

  Hallie wasn’t exactly off-track, she decided. Jett Carr did have a sexy demeanor.

  “Never gonna find someone like you.”

  He strummed harder, his fingers working the strings faster, and without volition, Arabella’s feet carried her back into the living room. Closer to the television screen.

  “You’re not s’posed to stand so close.” Tyler grabbed her hand and dragged her back two steps.

  “Never gonna trust again, never gonna love again, never gonna find someone like you.” After the buildup, the singer trailed off, though the music continued on. He stood up from the stool where he’d been sitting and set his guitar down. Then he walked away, the wind fluttering the tails of his shirt madly around his shoulders. She saw a flash of a tattoo and then Jett Carr looked over his shoulder straight at the camera.

  He pulled his glasses down his nose, and Jay’s distinctive green eyes stared straight at her. “Never find someone like you.”

  His husky words trailed off and the video went black before switching to a violently colorful commercial for Frosted Fruity Flakes.

  I think you should know that...

  “You’re a liar, Jay Cross,” she said thickly.

  Because there was no question in her mind that he and the singer were one and the same.

  She’d know those green eyes anywhere.

  “Why’s Jay a liar?” Tyler bounced onto the couch beside her, and then nearly fell over himself getting back off again when she looked at him.

  “Here.” She handed him the remote control again. Tyler hooted and quickly punched buttons but she barely noticed. She was too busy punching buttons on her own phone.

  Only as soon as Jay’s line started to ring, she chickened out and hung up again.

  She was such a monumental fool.

  How many times had she mentioned how much she detested that darned song? And he’d just...gone along!

  Squelching a moan, she sank down onto the couch and didn’t even protest when Murphy jumped onto her lap. She held her phone above the dog’s head and opened a browser. She didn’t even have to finish typing in the words Jett Carr before the video she’d just watched popped to the top of her list on her phone.

  She turned down the volume and watched the video all the way through.

  Even though she knew.

  “Never gonna trust again,” she whispered soundlessly. “Not even you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jay drove from the flower shop back to his grandmother’s and carried the fern inside. She was in the kitchen, nursing the big metal pot she used to cook down her strawberries.

  He set the plant on the table. “Are you tired of ferns, Gran?”

  She glanced around the veritable jungle growing inside her house. “It’s what your grandpa always gave me. How could I get tired of them?”


  He leaned his hip against the table. “I told Detective Teas who I was.”

  She gave him a sidelong look. “Thought you were just Jay Cross.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Do you know what you mean?”

  He muttered an oath and rubbed his forehead. “I’m too tired for your cryptic comments. Jett Carr’s a stage persona. That’s it.”

  She turned and gently drew her fingers along the fern’s feathery edges. “Jet-pack. Your grandpa loved you more’n anything on this earth. And I loved him more’n anything on this earth. That’s why I took on O’Brien when he asked young Louella Carr to marry him.” She poked him once in the chest with a finger that was definitely not gentle. “Jett Carr isn’t just some name you plucked outta thin air. Your problem with Jett Carr was that you were letting other people control who he was. Instead of being who you wanted to be.”

  “Some things aren’t that easy.”

  She made a disgusted sound and returned to her pot.

  He dropped it. “Was there ever something between him and Mabel?”

  She threw back her head and laughed. “Lord no.”

  “And I know you didn’t steal her jam recipe.”

  She snorted, still laughing. “No, sir, I did not.”

  “Then what the hell happened between the two of you?”

  She gave him a look over her shoulder. “You really want to know?”

  He spread his hands helplessly. “I’m asking, aren’t I?” He’d been asking for days now.

  She gave a huge sigh. “Shop-World wants to pay me a boatload of money to put my jam in all their stores. From California to Wyoming to Texas.”

  Jay was glad he was leaning against the counter, because he probably would have fallen on his butt otherwise. “What?”

  She gave him an annoyed look. “You heard me.” She tapped her long wooden spoon against the side of the pot. “My mistake was telling Mabel about it. She’s always had a pea-green streak about her. She’ll get over it in time.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about it? Does Mom know?”

  “What good would that do?” She looked even more annoyed. “Wouldn’t make your mama stop trying to get me to give up my home and move into a dinky bedroom at that house she shares with your dad. Nothing wrong with that house, mind you, but it isn’t mine.”