by Pam Crooks
Even with the seat belt on, she tried to keep as much distance between them as she could, considering she was pressed against the passenger door. She wasn’t completely at ease, and that pulled at him.
Oh, hell. Unless…
“You seeing anyone back home?” He infused casualness into his voice. “A boyfriend or anything?”
“No, gosh, no.” She glanced over at him with an astonished laugh. “First, I wouldn’t be going out with you if I were. Second, I don’t have time for a relationship. Grad school and now my job take up all my waking hours and energy.” Her gaze returned to the road. “Maybe someday I will, though.”
“And he’ll be one lucky son of a gun,” he muttered under his breath.
“Yeah, right.” Her amusement brightened the blue in her eyes. “I already know you’re not seeing anyone, much to your mother’s disappointment.”
His mouth crooked. “She wants grandkids.”
“Of course she does.”
They fell silent again, until Paxton Springs appeared. Beau pulled off the highway and headed toward the business district.
“I’d like to take you someplace before we have supper,” he said.
Her brows lifted. “Where?”
“Not telling.”
She’d just refuse if he revealed his intention, but he was going to give it a go. An unexpected number of vehicles took up the angled parking spots; he found one a few stores down from Mary’s Mercantile and parked.
“I’ll get your door for you,” he said before she could open it herself.
He half expected her to fight him on it, asserting herself as capable of opening her own door, but she waited either out of duty or politeness, he wasn’t sure. After he came around and opened the door, she took hold of the grab bar like he showed her back at the cabin and slid a slim leg onto the truck’s step. Her dress hitched up and gifted him with a nice view of a whole lot of her pretty thigh.
She pushed the dress down again as soon as her foot found the sidewalk, and since he liked how close that put her to him, he stayed right where he was.
“Are all the cowboys around here so quick to show respect to the ladies?” Her pinklips softened.
She had perfect eyelashes. Thick and full, light on the mascara, just the way he liked it.
“Reckon so,” he murmured. “Leastways, it’s how my dad raised me and my brothers.”
“I’ll be sure to thank him, then. This lady appreciates the gesture and is quite pleased chivalry isn’t dead in Texas.”
She smelled so damned good, he wanted to press his face to her skin and inhale her scent for a spell. But considering she was smiling up at him and not showing signs of locking horns any time soon, doing so could be a big mistake.
No locked horns tonight if he could help it.
“Let’s go,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Got someone I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“It’s a secret.”
The little cowbell on the mercantile’s door tinkled as they went inside, and Mary Thurman, gray haired with a smiling face and a perpetually out-of-style perm, looked up from folding shirts on a nearby display.
“Hey, Beau! Isn’t this a surprise on a Saturday night? What can I do for you?”
He made introductions. He was just a kid when she opened her store with her husband, Gordon, and Beau figured his mother bought most every stitch of clothes her three boys had ever owned right here ever since.
“My lady here needs a proper hat,” he said, giving Ava’s back a little pat before he released her.
She emitted a tiny gasp and turned wide, blue-green eyes onto him. “What? Oh, but I don’t—”
“Help her pick one out, won’t you?” he asked Mary, ignoring Ava.
Mary’s smile never wavered, but he knew years of experience enabled her to size up her customer with one discreet look.
“Have anything in mind, honey?” she asked Ava.
“No, I don’t. Thank you, but—”
“Then let me show you some.” Mary acted completely unaffected by all of Ava’s buts. “You’ll need straw in this heat. I have some nice ones over here.” Without waiting to see if Ava followed, she headed in that direction.
Ava hesitated, tossed Beau a slack-jawed, incredulous this is your secret? look, and dutifully—if not reluctantly—followed, allowing his gaze to linger a little too long than was proper over her swaying backside.
“Probably going to take her a while to find the right one,” Gordon said from by the cash register, clearly amused. “Help yourself to a bag of popcorn before I clean out the popper for the night.”
“Thanks. Don’t mind if I do.” Beau moseyed over and took a bag from the red and white machine that never failed to make his mouth water. Warm popcorn from Mary’s Mercantile rivaled any movie theater’s. He’d grown up on the stuff.
“She’s a beaut.” Gordon lowered his voice while he eyed the two females handing Stetsons back and forth. “Where’s she from?”
“New York City.”
His interest lit up, just as Beau figured it would. Nothing like a big city tenderfoot in town to get folks ruminating.
“That right? She’s not workin’ on that resort out at your place, is she?”
“She is, yep.”
“Your ma said she hired someone from New York. I’ll be damned.”
Beau let him chew on that while he finished his popcorn. He’d no sooner crumpled up the bag and tossed it in the waste can when the women came over. Mary set a straw Stetson in pale tan trimmed with a simple turquoise medallion and a chin cord on the counter.
“She wouldn’t look at anything that wasn’t on sale, but she picked one of my favorites,” Mary said amiably. “Looks real nice on her, and it’s a bargain to boot.”
Beau pulled out his credit card. “She could’ve had anything she wanted. Didn’t have to be on sale.”
Mary’s eyes crinkled. “I told her them Paxton boys are generous as all get-out, just like their folks.” She handed Beau a receipt and a pen. “That resort your mom is fixing to have built is going to be good for your ranch, but it’s going to be good for all of us, too.”
Now wasn’t the time or place to voice his opinion, and he didn’t want gossip besides. Beau kept his head down, signed the receipt, and gave it back to her. Mary handed him the string-tied hatbox with a big smile of thanks, and they left.
As soon as he and Ava were back on the sidewalk, she turned to him. “I’ve never owned a cowboy hat.”
“I know.”
“I’ll feel silly wearing it.”
“Better than a baseball cap.” Hadn’t anyone ever bought her anything she never asked for or didn’t consider practical? “You’ll get used to it. In fact, you’ll like it. Just say ‘thank you, Beau.’”
She eyed him beneath her lashes, then rolled her eyes. “Okay. You win. Thank you, Beau.” She held out her hand. “Give me the box. You bought the hat. The least I can do is carry it.”
He let her. He would’ve preferred taking the purchase back to the truck for safekeeping, but all the parking spots were taken already, and if they didn’t get to the Greasy Bull soon, they wouldn’t find a table. Waiting had never been one of his favorite pastimes.
Sure enough, once they got inside the restaurant, a line had already formed in front of the hostess podium. Just as Beau moved forward to get added to the list, someone called out his name.
Shandi Flanagan waved him over. He acknowledged her with a grin and a chin lift.
“Looks like we get priority seating,” he said.
“Nice,” Ava replied with an impressed laugh.
It was easy to take her hand as he led her through the maze of tables and noise; he liked that their hands fit together just right, too.
“Thought I saw your pickup out there,” Shandi said, waiting for them beside an empty booth. “I saved a table for you just in case. It’s been busy all week.”
She wore her usual jeans and tank
top, and she wouldn’t be Shandi without a ponytail. Beau could barely remember her wearing her hair any other way.
“Not cooking tonight?” he asked, noting the stack of laminated menus in her arm. He released Ava, who set the hatbox on the table.
“Doing a little of everything to keep the crowd happy. You want me to cook something up for you?”
“Not if you’re busy waiting tables.”
“Never too busy for you, Beau.” She laid out two of the menus and kept her attention on arranging them just right. “Jace coming in?”
“Not sure,” he said truthfully.
Ava extended her hand. “I remember you from the gas station,” she said. “I’m Ava Howell.”
“Oh, hi!” Recognition registered with Shandi’s smile. “Shandi Flanagan. Yeah, I work here and part-time there. Gotta pay the bills, you know.”
Ava nodded gently. “Don’t we all?”
“You two want a beer or anything?”
“The usual for me,” Beau said.
“A light for me,” Ava added.
Shandi hurried off, and Beau and Ava settled into their seats.
“She’s hot for him,” Ava said.
“Who?”
“Shandi. Your brother, Jace.”
Beau never noticed. “You think?”
“I know. A girl can tell these things.”
Beau rubbed his chin. If the feeling was mutual, Jace had never mentioned it.
“Did you have a good time with him in Austin?” she asked, her blond head cocked.
“Yeah. The one-on-one was good.” Damned if she didn’t look perfect sitting across from him, like she was born to be there, talking as if they’d known each other forever. “Went there to get parts for the hay monster. Faster to pick them up than to wait for shipping. Having Jace there was just a bonus.”
“That’s nice. Really nice.”
He fiddled with his silverware, wrapped in a paper napkin and sealed with an adhesive strip. There was more he needed to tell her, and he hoped he wouldn’t ruin the evening before it began. “Had some meetings with the folks interested in buying the ghost town, too.”
“You did?” She drew back. “Who?”
“A Wild West preservation society and a Texas historical group. Both have been out this past year and toured the ghost town.” He heaved a gusty sigh. “Unfortunately, coming up with a million bucks isn’t easy for folks who depend on donations and grants to keep themselves going.”
“I know, Beau.” She made a soft noise with her tongue that sounded like she felt sorry for him. “Surely you told them we’ve already started renovating?”
He hated having to admit his plans to sell were showing signs of falling apart, like dominos in slow motion. “They know they’re just about out of time.” He met her glance. “But I’m not giving up, and neither are they.”
Her mouth softened. Might be she thought he was just being stubborn, but she had to know he was serious.
“What does Jace have to say about all this?” she asked.
“He’s coming around, I suppose.” Beau shrugged.
“Big brother can see the whole picture?”
“Better than I can.” He refused to let her get started on the merits of her project. Nothing was going to ruin this night with her.
She regarded him. “I think the time away did you good. You’re not so cranky.”
“Me, cranky?”
“Yes, you. I saw Brock a time or two, so I knew he stayed back.”
Shandi brought their beers, took their orders, and Beau picked up the conversation again. “It’s his turn to stay with Dad tonight so Mom can play Bunco with her friends at church.”
Ava’s throat moved. “You have a wonderful family, Beau.”
“Takes a village, sometimes.”
“It’s more than that,” she said. “It’s—well, Erin would have enjoyed spending time with your parents. It’s her place, her family. Not mine.”
“You keep bringing her up.”
“She’s your cousin.”
“I hardly knew her. She came down a couple of times when we were kids. That’s about it.”
“Then I’ll tell you she was one of the kindest, most generous human beings born on this earth. She used to take me home to spend holidays with her family and always made sure I had a cake and presents to open on my birthday, always checked to make sure I had enough money to pay my bills…you know, the sort of thing that made me realize I was incredibly fortunate to have her as my friend.” Ava glanced away, but not before he caught the sheen of moisture in her eyes. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. Some days, I think I need to call her and tell her about this or that, and then, I remember—”
Her grief pulled at him. He’d lost friends, too. The conflict in Afghanistan had been merciless.
“I’m sorry, Ava. Tough to go through.”
“Yes.” The moisture had disappeared, like she’d pulled her composure back into place. “But she told me once your mother and hers were very close.”
“They keep in touch, yeah. Mom keeps asking her to come down to visit.”
“I’m sure your aunt will want to see Erin’s vision for the ghost town. Any mother would.”
Beau’s peripheral picked up someone approaching their table. Both he and Ava turned to see Nash.
“Hey, mind if I interrupt?” he asked, still dressed in his black and gold-trimmed deputy uniform and official, hardly-looked-worn Stetson.
“Hell, no.” Nash wouldn’t have come over if he didn’t have something to report. “Have a seat.”
“Much obliged.”
Though Beau slid over to make room on his side of the booth, Nash took Ava’s side.
Not that Beau blamed him. Nash wasn’t married except to his job, but he had a keen interest in Ava. Had ever since Beau first reported the theft of her purse. If there was anything the lawman was determined to fight, it was crime in his little town. Because a newcomer ran into trouble right off the bat, well, that made Nash more determined than ever to make things right.
Once again, Beau made introductions. Nash, as always, had a way of making folks comfortable, whether they were the victim or the accused. Given their easy conversation, Ava was no different. Nash laced his fingers together on the tabletop. “Spoke to Bud Templeton this afternoon.” He glanced at Ava. “Donnie’s father. The kid who took your purse, you know.”
She nodded. “Yes. Beau found his T-shirt this afternoon at my jobsite.”
“Well, I let Bud know his son had been on the Paxton premises, and that made him guilty of trespassing.”
“Bet he got all riled and wouldn’t admit anything his son did was wrong, right?” Just hearing Bud Templeton’s name darkened Beau’s mood.
“Let’s just say he didn’t necessarily agree.”
“Figures.”
“He claimed the Paxtons have enough land that it wasn’t going to hurt if his sons camped out there a night or two,” Nash went on. “Since there wasn’t any evidence they’d done anything wrong, I couldn’t do much more than give him a warning.”
Beau scowled, snatched his beer bottle, and took a long drink.
Nash leaned forward. “The thing is, Beau, Bud’s an over-the-road truck driver, so he’s gone a lot, and since their mother took off with her boyfriend to Colorado a while back, the boys are on their own. Going to be hard for him to keep track of everything they do while he’s out trying to make a living.”
“How sad his sons have so little security in their lives,” Ava murmured.
“All about making good decisions,” Beau told her. “The boys are old enough to know right from wrong.”
“Sometimes, due to circumstances, it’s not that easy,” she countered.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t get any worse than it has,” Nash said.
Beau’s brow shot up. “Does that include purse snatching?”
Nash shrugged. “Real unfortunate for Miss Howell that happened. A scare, for sure.”
A
va’s glance bounced between the two of them. “It all worked out, thanks to Beau.”
“If this thing escalates, say vandalism or anything, be sure to call me,” Nash said.
Beau scowled. “Damned right I will.”
“Hell, maybe Donnie was just curious about all the building going on at your family’s new resort.” Grinning, Nash slid out of the booth. “Have to admit I am, too. Looking forward to seeing what y’all are doing out there.”
“We’ll have an open house when it’s ready,” Ava promised.
“Hope you don’t mind me saying it’s going to be a good thing for all of us.”
“Go ahead,” Beau said drily. “Everyone else is.”
“He’s not quite convinced yet,” Ava said carefully.
“Well, everyone thinks so. Look around this place. New folks already have come into town to have some fun and spend their money.” Clearly, Nash was enamored with the whole idea.
“My crew, mostly,” Ava said, stretching her slender, tanned neck. “I see a few subcontractors who just came in. And my foreman is over there, playing pool.”
Luckily, Shandi showed up just then and Nash left, much to Beau’s relief. She set down two plates loaded with juicy burgers and a heap of fries, with an extra portion just for him. She refreshed their beers, and the distraction was just what he needed to think about something else besides that damned guest resort.
Because it was taking over his life. His town. His friends. His relationship with Ava, most of all. Folks were smitten with the idea of turning the Paxtons’ ghost town into a novelty vacation spot, and that made Beau the enemy in his own war.
Going for the ketchup bottle, he slathered his fries, and dug in.
Chapter Eight
If only the night didn’t have to end.
Ava leaned back against the truck’s headrest, left her flip-flops on the floorboard, and drew her legs up beneath her. The dashboard lights provided the only illumination while Beau, as silent as she was, drove home. Neither of them bothered to turn on the radio.
It had been an evening like no other. Wonderfully different than the occasional New York night club or trendy bar she’d gone to before, usually with Lucienne and her latest heartthrob in tow, establishments which were always crowded with college kids and twenty-somethings who seemed to thrive on the loud music and expensive drinks.