by Pam Crooks
She narrowed her eyes. “Have you been waiting for me?”
His slow nod finally came. “But not too long.”
He didn’t seem to expect an explanation about where she’d been, but he should have one. It was, after all, hot.
“I went shopping,” she said. “Groceries and stuff.”
“Figured. Saw the bags.”
She indicated the glider. “Imagine my surprise when I got home and saw this.”
“You like it?”
“Very much. I’ll call your mother and thank her.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “She won’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Excuse me?”
“The glider is from me. Figured it beats sitting out here on your kitchen chair.”
She gaped. “You?”
“Got a problem with that?”
She blinked fast. He had an ulterior motive in giving her that glider, and if he thought she would fall for it, like some spineless female desperate for love and attention, he was wrong.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Beau.” Her brows connected, and she waggled her finger at him in fierce warning. “There is to be no plying me with gifts, you hear? None. It won’t work.”
He pulled off the sunglasses. “Plying?”
“If this is your way of making up for what happened last night, I’m not going for it.”
“Last night.” His handsome, tanned face showed no expression as he slipped the lenses into his shirt pocket with maddening calm. “You talking about our kiss?”
“Yes, I’m talking about our kiss,” she grated.
How could he be so matter-of-fact about something that had completely rocked her world and sent her tumbling into a sleep-deprived, sniffling mess?
“I kissed you,” he murmured. “You kissed me back. What’s the big deal?”
“The deal, you big lummox, is that it shouldn’t have happened.”
“Why not?”
“Because it can’t. Because I don’t live here. Because I’ll be leaving very soon, and the whole point of that kiss will be completely moot.”
“Moot.” He sighed heavily. Rubbed his jaw. “Mind if I sit on your new glider?”
“It’s not mine.”
“I gave it to you.”
“It stays with the cabin. When I return to New York, it will not be coming with me.” She swallowed, strove for the composure she so desperately needed. “But, yes, go ahead and sit. You bought it, after all.”
“Thanks.” He sat, leaned back, and propped a booted ankle on his knee. He patted the slats beside him. “Join me.”
“No, thank you.”
“Your call.” His gaze lifted to the rough, wild Texas landscape beyond her parked car. “For what it’s worth, Ava, I bought the glider in Austin. Jace went with me. Pure coincidence I happened to assemble it this morning. Seemed like a good time since we normally don’t do chores after church. Brock and I delivered it while you were out shopping.” His head swiveled toward her, and the angle of his jaw turned hard, like the rocks so much a part of the ranch. “This glider has nothing to do with what happened between us last night. Not even close.”
She didn’t move for long moments while the guilt rolled through her, leaving her nauseous. She’d accused him unfairly, and she didn’t doubt his explanation. He wouldn’t lie to her.
“Then I misjudged you,” she said quietly. “For that, I apologize.”
“No plying you with gifts, Ava, to vindicate my—supposedly—inexcusable behavior.”
“I guess not.”
“Period. End of story.”
Her throat worked. The glider had been a gift he’d wanted to give her days before he even asked her out on their date. That he was thinking of her way back in Austin humbled her.
Much as it shouldn’t, it pleased her, too.
“I will enjoy it,” she said softly. “Every night while I’m—” she exhaled “—still here.”
He extended his long arm toward her, the palm of his hand facing up in invitation. “Then sit with me.”
She shouldn’t. Really, she shouldn’t. Doing so would completely crumble her resolve to remain only on businesslike terms with him, and what good was a resolve when she didn’t stick with it? Especially when it was a very much-needed resolve?
But Beau wouldn’t cross the line with her. Not after the way she’d reacted. She trusted him on that.
Besides, what was the use of having a two-person glider when only one person was using it, and the other was standing?
Wasn’t that just silly?
Ava moved closer and took his hand, feeling its strength, its work-hardened skin. Its gentleness. He tugged her closer, as if she were a dandelion whose fluffy little seeds would blow away if he weren’t very careful to handle her just right, and she fitted herself onto the bench. Next to him. In the perfect amount of space to keep her close without actually touching him.
To show a calm she wasn’t feeling, she crossed her leg, avoiding his boot, which was perched perilously close on his broad knee. Beau took charge of the gliding, and it wasn’t long at all before her body relaxed into its rhythm.
He released her hand but casually lifted his arm onto the back of the glider. He didn’t touch her. Which only made Ava wish he would.
He mixed up her emotions for sure, this cowboy.
“This is nice,” he murmured, not looking at her.
She didn’t look at him, either. “Yes, it is.”
After a few more moments of silent, gliding niceness, he glanced over at her.
“It was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“What was?”
“Our kiss. You have to admit it was, Ava.”
Her belly flip-flopped. There was something seductive in talking about that kiss.
“Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” she said, shooting him a crisp look from beneath her lashes.
A low laugh, a playful ruffle of her hair, and no further comment from him suggested he would. They rocked for a while, indulging in more nice, and Ava didn’t care that her groceries were still scattered on her living room floor. Or that her milk and eggs and yogurt needed to be refrigerated. Or that her stomach was beginning to rumble, signaling she needed to soothe it with a little supper.
“There’s another reason I was waiting for you to come home,” Beau said finally.
“Besides wanting to use my new glider?”
He turned troubled gray eyes onto her. “Yeah.”
Those eyes made her pause. “Are you worried about something?”
“I am.”
“So tell me about it.”
“Bud Templeton stopped by the Big House while we were having dinner this afternoon.”
Ava frowned. “Donnie’s father?”
“Yes. He was all fired up from Nash’s phone call yesterday. Wanted to have it out with my dad.”
She twisted toward him. “Your dad has nothing to do with any of this. He didn’t even know my purse was stolen, did he?”
“He does now.”
“And he knows you found Donnie’s shirt, too? That we think he’s been hanging out at the jobsite?”
“He knows everything. Mom, too.”
She huffed out a breath. “I don’t understand why Bud felt like he had to confront your father. What good would that do?”
“Because they go way back.” Beau lifted his Stetson, ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, then resettled the hat over his forehead. “There was this feud between them. Started in the late 2000s. Here in Hill Country, we had a few years of a bad drought. Bud had to cull his herd, which meant he lost money, and then he couldn’t make payments on his land. When the bank wanted to foreclose, Dad moved in and made Bud an offer. Bud didn’t think it was high enough, but the bank sided with Dad, and ever since, Bud thinks Dad cheated him.”
“Ouch.” Ava wrinkled her nose.
“Bud took up drinking. Turns out he was a mean drunk. Roughed up his wife a few times until
she’d had enough. She came to my dad and asked for help. By then, she had the two boys, and Dad gave her some money so she could take care of them on her own. Except she abandoned her sons, took off to Colorado with a boyfriend no one knew she had, and she hasn’t been back since.”
“Not even to see Donnie and Will? Ever?”
“No.”
Ava could hardly believe it. How could a mother do that to her children?
Sympathy for what the Templeton boys had endured ran through her like a swollen river. Every day, the foster care system took in children whose parents couldn’t care for them, whether by choice or by circumstance. She had lived it. After her mother died, and then Granny Mae, she’d been forced to leave the comfort and familiarity of her home and move in with strangers, bouncing through the system until she finally aged out. She lost count of the nights she’d curled in a corner of a dark, unfamiliar bedroom and cried from loneliness, from despair and even anger that everyone she loved had been taken from her.
Horrible for any child to experience.
She wouldn’t wish that kind of agony on her worst enemy.
And while Donnie and Will still had their father, their home and ranch, their school and friends, the loss of their mother would’ve cut deep.
“Damned shame,” Beau said.
“Nash said Bud drives a truck now. He’s gone a lot, and he leaves Donnie with Will. Which, obviously, is not working out.”
Beau shook his head. “Will is an adult and can be guardian in his father’s absence. Trouble is, Will isn’t a good influence. Spent some time in juvie for drug and alcohol possession and a couple of robberies. He didn’t finish high school, and now Donnie is making noise about dropping out. At least, that’s what Bud said. He blames Dad for that, too.”
“What a mess.” She frowned. There’d be no easy solution.
“What makes things worse is that Will can’t hold a job, or maybe he’s not trying. Donnie’s not working, either. Both boys have too much time on their hands, and that gets them into trouble.”
“No wonder Donnie stole my purse.”
“Needed the money.”
“No doubt.”
“That boy needs some direction, and he’s not getting it from his older brother. No telling what those two will do.” Beau shifted, leaned forward, and rested both elbows on his knees. “I’d like to leave Gunner with you, Ava. He’ll watch out for you. If the Templetons, whether it’s the boys or Bud himself, come around for whatever reason, Gunner will let you know it. He’ll keep you safe, best he can.”
“Of course not. I mean, it’s not necessary. Nothing will happen.”
“Just at night. You’re all alone out here.”
“I always lock up.”
“I’ll come get him in the morning.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Beau scowled. “Damn it, Ava. I worry about you.”
She stilled. He couldn’t have said anything else that would’ve warmed her heart more. When was the last time anyone worried about her?
Too many years. Not since her mother and Granny Mae were alive.
Gunner lay sprawled near her feet, his tongue-hanging, brown-eyed attention rapt on Beau. The dog probably knew they were talking about him, and as devoted as Gunner was, he’d do whatever Beau wanted.
There was a certain appeal in a man and his dog wanting to protect her, but though her resistance had weakened, she was still reluctant to keep the pair apart on her account when she wasn’t yet convinced it was necessary.
She laid her hand on Beau’s thigh in appreciation. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Do that.” His hand covered hers, big and warm and pleasantly heavy.
Her resolve to keep their relationship strictly business kicked in. She needed to pull on her Superwoman underpants for the willpower to remove her hand from beneath that pleasant heaviness.
She stood. “I have food to put in the fridge. Driving to a grocery store around here takes forever.”
Beau stood, too. “You need gas?”
“Getting low.” She shrugged. “But I’ll have enough to get myself to Paxton Springs, no problem.”
“I’ll fill your tank for you. Give me your keys.”
She drew back. “I refuse to let you drive into town to fill my tank.”
“We have our own pump.” The corner of his mouth lifted in that way she’d come to recognize when he was close to laughing at her, but not quite there.
“Your own pump. Why am I not surprised?” She shook her head, not bothering to hide her amazement at such a luxury.
“We have lots of machinery around here. Go through a lot of gas. The pump’s by the shop. Fill up any time.”
“Really?” She could hardly believe his generosity.
“Really.” He stuck his hand out. “Keys?”
To protest would waste her time and his, and she had food on her floor, after all. She hurried inside, pulled her purse from the heap of plastic bags, and rummaged for her keys while her mind gauged the time it would take for him to return. Once outside again, she dropped the keys into his palm.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, heading toward her car.
“Hey, Beau.” She may be all kinds of a fool for breaking her resolve, but he was giving her free gas, and that made a little broken resolve okay. “You’re welcome to stay for supper.”
He halted, turned toward her.
“I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich,” she added.
His sexy mouth curved in a slow grin. “Yeah? What’s so special about it?”
“Processed cheese food,” she said with utmost seriousness.
His brow lifted. “You don’t say.”
“Everyone knows that’s the secret ingredient, Beau.”
He chuckled, which always made her knees go weak and her heart patter. “Make several. I’m hungry.”
He kept going, opened her car door, and fitted his big body behind the wheel. Gunner trotted down the road toward the Big House ahead of him.
She rushed back inside and gathered up her week’s worth of groceries, then put them neatly in their places, keeping back a bag of potato chips, a new bottle of ketchup, bread, and cheese. After making a pitcher of ice water with slices of lemon floating on top, she chopped a watermelon into chunks, and just as she slid the last piece from the cutting board into a serving bowl, her peripheral vision picked up shadowy movement behind the window shade near her bed.
In the next moment, glass shattered. A rock hurtled toward her.
And she screamed.
Chapter Ten
Beau pulled up in front of Ava’s cabin and cut the ignition. Wasn’t like her to leave the front door wide open. No one conserved air conditioning the way she did. She was damned near obsessive about it.
Something was wrong.
He got out of the car and strode onto the porch. One look inside the cabin, and his breath hitched. Shards of glass were scattered on her bed, onto the floor. The window shade ruffled inward from the breeze; a big rock near her table looked responsible.
He spun and bolted outside, searched the dirt road beyond her cabin and found her up ahead, running hard. She looked small in the distance, almost indecipherable, but he knew the way her body moved when she ran. Sleek, agile, fast.
She was chasing someone. Someone blond. Beau didn’t need to see a face to know it was Donnie. That long hair was a dead giveaway, and the kid didn’t have a chance to outrun her.
Gunner loped toward him from the direction of the Big House. Beau slid a sharp whistle through his teeth, and the Lab’s stride lengthened. Beau ran toward his horse, untethered the reins, and loosened the rope strap on his saddle before leaping into the seat. With a kick to the mount’s ribs, he took off at a hard gallop toward Ava.
She’d veered off the road. The ground was uneven and treacherous with rock and wild vegetation, everything from grasses to mesquite, and he wasn’t taking any chances of her turning an ankle or the teenager getting away. With his
lariat spinning above his head, Beau rode closer and dropped the rope over Donnie’s body, then jerked the loop tight. The teen stumbled backward, scrambled for footing, and wasted no time in attempting to free himself.
Beau reined in. “You’re not going anywhere, Donnie. Might as well save yourself the trouble.”
“You can’t do this to me,” the kid sputtered.
“I just did.”
“It’s abuse. I’ll tell the cops, I swear.”
“You do that.”
Ava slowed. Wiping her arm across her forehead, she met his glance. Her expression had gratitude written all over it.
“You all right?” he asked roughly, looking her over. He’d bargain with the devil for a bottle of water to give her.
“Yes. Thanks.” She set her hands on her hips, blew out a breath.
Gunner joined them, barking like crazy. Donnie kept a close eye on him. As far as Beau knew, Gunner had never bitten anyone, but if Donnie worried over it, Beau wasn’t going to tell him otherwise. That worry would keep him cooperative.
“Quiet, Gunner. Sit.”
Donnie had some explaining to do, and Beau couldn’t hear over the racket his Lab was making. Gunner obeyed, and Beau relaxed his grip on the rope.
“You the one who threw the rock at Miss Howell’s window?” he asked.
Chest heaving from exertion, the teen glanced away. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“If you don’t, who does?” Beau kept his tone stern. “Did Will put you up to it?”
“No. He ain’t here.”
Beau’s glance swept the area. The ghost town wasn’t far ahead; could be the teen hoped to hook up with his brother out there. Or lose himself in all those buildings Ava had been renovating. Beau couldn’t see the Templetons’ old pickup, but that didn’t mean much. Plenty of places to keep that old bucket of bolts hidden.
“So is he waiting for you somewhere? Or did you act alone?” he persisted.
“Alone.” Donnie swiped his wrist under his nose and kept his eyes downcast. “He met some girl the other day. Spends a lot of time with her now.”
“Then how about your dad? He know you’re out here?”