by Jeannie Watt
“Why?”
“Because it’s better at pulling things out of the mud. You might want to leave your little dog with Thad.” He started toward the tractor without another word and, after a brief hesitation, Lillie Jean crossed the driveway to the house. The kitchen was empty, so she set Henry on the floor and promised him she’d be back shortly.
Gus was waiting in the idling tractor when she returned. She started to the passenger door, but he motioned her to the other side of the machine. Cautiously she climbed the steps, finding a small jump seat beside the operator’s chair.
Once the door was closed, Gus pulled a few levers, raised the bucket, and the tractor started down the driveway, shaking and rumbling as he shifted to a higher gear.
Lillie Jean simply held on and focused on the road ahead of her, doing her best to tamp down the feelings that (a) she didn’t belong in a tractor, and (b) the cab of the tractor was too small for two people who didn’t trust one another.
“Do you have the keys?” he asked as they drove through the log archway that marked the entrance of the ranch proper.
“Yes,” she said shortly, glad that she did indeed have the keys sitting deep in her coat pocket. She could have left them in the car, stuck as it was, but old habits died hard. One didn’t leave keys in the car for even a little while where she lived. The place wasn’t crime ridden, but enough things happened, even in the suburbs, to leave one erring on the side of caution.
Lillie Jean held herself so stiffly in the small seat, trying not to let any part of her body come in contact with Gus in the small confines of the tractor cab, that by the time they reached her car, her muscles were starting to cramp. For his part, Gus ignored her. No small talk. No questions about who she really was, or dire warnings about taking advantage of his uncle—both of which she’d fully expected. Instead he’d focused straight ahead, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown of concentration. Plotting how to get rid of her, probably.
Lillie Jean refused to let it bother her. Instead she thought about next steps. The trip back to Texas. Going through the last of her grandfather’s personal belongings which were stacked in her friend Kate’s basement and attic. Her grandfather hadn’t left much. He’d lived comfortably, but hadn’t possessed a lot of material things. Lillie Jean had always assumed his frugal habits had been born of necessity, only to find out that he’d owned half of an eight-hundred-acre spread. It still boggled her.
Lillie Jean had questions about her grandfather and his secret past, and before she left, she hoped that Thaddeus Hawkins would give her answers. He wasn’t suspicious of her, like his nephew was, but he was unsettled by her sudden arrival, and she sensed that it went beyond the surprise element. What on earth had gone on between him and her grandfather?
* * *
LILLIE JEAN SMELLED like lilacs, a scent Gus knew well, due to the thick hedge near the ranch house that burst into blossom each spring, filling the air with perfume and sending old Sal’s allergies into high gear.
He hated that he noticed that Lillie Jean smelled good. Hated the way the delicate floral scent made him feel like leaning closer and taking a deeper breath. In fact, it was really annoying to find himself feeling that way, so he was very glad to finally arrive at the car.
Lillie Jean put her hand on the door handle before he’d rolled to a stop, and he automatically reached past her to keep her from opening the door. She shot him a startled look, which he met with a frown, once again doing his best to ignore the lilacs and the incredible color of her eyes.
“Never open the door until the tractor is out of gear.” He made a show of moving the gear lever. “Big tires,” he said in a clipped voice. “Very unforgiving.”
“Is it okay now?” Lillie Jean asked as she eyed the giant rear wheels.
“Yeah.” He put on the hand brake and set a hand on the back of her seat to maneuver himself out of the cab. Lillie Jean took the hint and climbed down the stairs and jumped to the ground, quickly moving out of range of those big tires. Gus followed her and then reached up to drag the chain off the floorboards under the seat.
The mud was deep and water soaked into his jeans as he crouched down to attach the chain to the frame of the big car. Once done, he motioned for Lillie Jean to get into the driver’s seat.
“What do I do?”
“You start the engine and steer. Do not step on the gas.”
“Why?”
“Because it’ll annoy me if you ram that big car into the tractor.”
“Oh.” She moistened her lips—a mistake in the cool weather—and then said, “You don’t have much faith in my driving ability.”
All he did was point a finger at the car in the mud then turn and walk back to the tractor. “Just put it in Neutral,” he said, “and let me do the rest.”
“Why even start it?”
“So that the steering wheel works.”
From the way her jaw muscles tightened, Gus deduced that she was starting to hate him a little.
“I knew that.” She abruptly turned and headed toward the car, mincing her way across the lumpy half-frozen mud next to the door.
Gus climbed into the cab and, once Lillie Jean was situated behind the wheel, he gently eased the tractor back until the chain was taut. He continued inching backward until the car jerked, then moved forward. Lillie Jean kept the wheels straight until finally the car was free, and he swore he could see her biting her full bottom lip as she concentrated, even though they were separated by twenty feet and two windshields. Once he was certain Lillie Jean wasn’t going to throw the car in gear or anything unexpected, he moved the tractor forward so that the chain sagged.
“There are no more puddles between here and the ranch house, so you should be okay,” he said as he unhooked the chain. “You should be equally okay when you leave, which will be in short order, right?”
Lillie Jean propped a hand on her hip and stuck her chin out. “Enough, okay?”
He stowed the chain back in the cab of the tractor and then turned to her. “Enough what?”
“Enough passive-aggressive crap. And enough insinuating that I’m not who I say I am, and that I’m here to try to take advantage of your uncle. I’m not.”
“I have no way of knowing that.”
“And you have nothing to do with this situation. It’s between me and Thaddeus.”
“Thaddeus is getting up there in years. I’m his nephew, his ranch manager and half owner of his bar.”
“Meaning?”
He gave her a small, not particularly friendly smile. “Meaning that, until Thad tells me otherwise, it’ll be you and Thaddeus and me.”
CHAPTER FOUR
LILLIE JEAN WAS HOT, in the angry sense, and maybe she had reason. Gus rubbed his forehead, then dropped his hand back to his side. Her eyes were pretty much spitting blue fire, but there was something else there besides outrage. Hurt, maybe? She gave the impression of being a woman who expected to be trusted. A woman not accustomed to having her honesty questioned. She was either truly insulted, or she was a very good actress—as an effective scam artist would be.
He needed more information.
He met her angry gaze and said, “Try to see my side of things. You show up out of nowhere, claim to be related to a man I didn’t know existed and twist my uncle into a knot.”
“I twisted nothing. Not your uncle. Not the truth.”
“Sometimes,” he said, fully aware that he was about to insult her again, “people have been known to do deep research and pretend to be people they are not, for personal gain.”
Anger shifted to ice. “I’m not one of them and you have a lot of nerve insinuating that I am.”
“Lillie Jean.” Her name felt odd on his tongue, as if saying it somehow made their relationship more intimate, which was nuts. “Until we have all this ironed out, I’m going to have my suspicions. I�
��d be stupid not to.”
She pushed her hands deep into her coat pockets and shivered. These were not temperatures she was used to. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were red, while the rest of her face was pale, making the blue-green color of her eyes more intense. She wore no makeup and a smattering of light freckles showed over her nose. Maybe that was part of her act. The sweet down-home girl without artifice.
Or maybe it wasn’t an act at all.
The one thing he was certain of was that, whether she was legit or not, she’d thrown a monkey wrench into his plans.
He jerked his head in the direction of the ranch. “Let’s get back to where it’s warmer.”
“Yes. Let’s.” There was a faint note of sarcasm in her voice, and maybe he couldn’t blame her, if she was legit.
Big if.
Gigantic if.
He got into the tractor and waited until she pulled past him in the giant boat of a car with the Texas plates. Was it really her grandfather’s car? A prop? His head was starting to ache.
Life had been so freaking simple only twenty-four hours ago, when he’d thought he was beginning a new chapter in his life. One he’d planned for so carefully. Those plans had not included Lillie Jean Hardaway.
If that was her real name.
* * *
THAD LOOKED GRIM when Gus followed Lillie Jean into the house after the car rescue. She excused herself and headed down the hall, an overjoyed Henry prancing close behind her. Thad waited until they heard the door shut before saying, “I called Lyle’s accountant—the one Betts sends the checks to and she gave me the lawyer’s name. The lawyer’s assistant is calling me back within the hour.” Thad looked past Gus toward the hall where Lillie Jean had disappeared. “I need more time.”
“When he calls, maybe you can nail down the reason they didn’t contact you the minute the will surfaced?”
The bedroom door opened again and he and Thad exchanged looks.
“I think she should stay here until we know more.” Thad shifted his weight in the chair. “If she’s who she says she is, we need to talk. If she’s not, we need to know. I want all the facts before we make any kind of decision.”
“I agree.” The door closed, and footsteps sounded on the old wooden floorboards. “In fact, I have some work to do.”
“Guess you could use some company,” Thad murmured in a low voice as Henry danced into the kitchen without his reindeer sweater. “Maybe show our guest some country.”
“Uh-huh.” There were heavy cows to check, a hole in the fence line between the H/H and Carson Craig’s ranch, which the King of Montana demanded be fixed, even though it was a joint boundary and they were both responsible for upkeep and repair. As near as he could tell, Carson’s idea of joint maintenance was for him to order Thad to fix the damned fence. Now.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Lillie Jean entered, and then Thad said to Gus in an overly casual voice, “You better get going before Craig has kittens.”
Gus gave a nod and glanced over at Lillie Jean. “You want to ride along?”
Instant suspicion. “Where?”
“I have to fix a hole in the fence. You’ve come this far, you may as well see some of the ranch before it snows.”
“Snow?” She looked shocked.
“Supposed to have snow tomorrow.”
She glanced over at Thad who nodded. “But the forecast changes hourly. May not be any snow at all. But if you want to go, I’ll babysit your little dog,” he said in a reassuring tone. “And when you get back we’ll have a sit-down.”
“Or the dog can come with us,” Gus said. Dumb sweater and all.
Lillie Jean’s jaw shifted sideways, as if she was well aware that she was being played. “All right. Yes. I’d like to see some of the property.” She glanced down at her dog, who was giving her a beseeching “don’t abandon me” stare. “I’ll leave Henry here where it’s warm.”
“I’ll enjoy the company,” Thad said, making Gus wonder if maybe his uncle needed a dog of his own.
Henry didn’t look all that pleased with the decision, but when Thad reached down and scooped him up with one big hand, the little dog settled on his lap, watching Lillie Jean closely as she gestured toward the coats hanging on hooks next to the back door in the mudroom. “Maybe I could borrow a warmer coat?”
“Sure, but I promise it’ll be plenty warm in the truck.”
“Unless you break down,” Thad said, idly scratching Henry’s ear.
Was that a hint?
“Good point,” Gus said. He headed into the mudroom where he pulled his spare coat off a hook and handed it to Lillie Jean. She slipped into it, put her hands in the pockets and then grimaced. No matter how many times a guy turned his pockets inside out and beat on them, there was always bits of itchy hay there. He reached for a new pair of gloves and handed them to her.
“No hay,” he said. “You might want to grab one of those fleece hats in the basket.”
“Thanks.” She lifted a hat out of the wicker basket that sat on the floor beneath the coats while he wrapped his wild rag around his neck. If he’d had a clean scarf, he would have given it to her, but he didn’t, so she’d simply have to turn up the collar of his coat. But like he’d said, it’d be plenty warm in the truck. It wasn’t that far below freezing, but according to the weather station on the kitchen windowsill, the windchill had knocked the temperatures down below twenty degrees.
He put on his cowboy hat, then pulled open the door and stepped back to let Lillie Jean precede him outside. Before following her into the crisp air, he once again met his uncle’s gaze. Thad gave him a grim nod. The dog on his uncle’s lap looked as if he were about to implode from anxiety, but he stayed put as Lillie Jean stepped out of the house. Gus just hoped Thad had some answers when he got back. He looked determined. The one benefit of almost being scammed last year was that his uncle had no intentions of being played again.
* * *
THE HEAVY COAT Lillie Jean wore smelled of hay and earth and Gus. The warm scents teased her nostrils as she followed the man across the frosty driveway, making her feel as if she was encroaching on intimate territory instead of simply wearing a borrowed coat to keep the wind from cutting through her. She should have simply believed Gus when he said the truck heater would keep her warm enough, and worn her own less than adequate coat.
The wind was blowing stronger than it had been when Gus had pulled her car out of the bottomless pit. Clouds were moving in from the north, a solid bank, grayish at the top, dark charcoal at the bottom, pushing the wind ahead of it. She pulled the coat around her more tightly, the gloves still in her hand. She didn’t want to put them on yet. They were huge but preferable to putting her hands in the prickly pockets of the coat if she needed to warm her fingers. She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t.
Her grandfather’s old car looked ridiculous parked next to the barn—like a time machine. It did not belong on this ranch, and she couldn’t picture her grandfather on the ranch, either. He’d never seemed all that rural to her. He and her grandmother had lived quietly on a one-acre rented lot near the edge of town. They hadn’t kept livestock, or even much of a garden, except for her grandmother’s flowers and tomatoes. He’d worked for nearly three decades at first as a welder, then a shop foreman. For relaxation, he tinkered with motorcycles.
Had he ever been on this ranch? Had he invested with Thad? Were he and Thad friends? Enemies? What?
She was going to get answers before she left.
She hoped. Gus’s grim profile wasn’t making her feel particularly optimistic, but since arriving at the ranch, her mission had crystallized. She’d left Texas to get away from Andrew and the stress of losing her business, losing her grandfather, but the answers she thought she’d like to have, had become answers she needed to have.
Gus led the way to an old truck loaded with
posts, wire and tools that looked as if it would fall apart if she breathed on it. But it sounded solid enough when he wrestled open the passenger door and motioned for her to get inside. Everything he needed must have been in the mechanical beast, because after closing her door with a clang that reverberated through the mostly metal interior, he walked around to his side, got in and started the engine. It chugged a few times, then fired to life with a blast of exhaust. The entire cab vibrated.
Lillie Jean couldn’t help frowning over at Gus, who ignored her as he put the vehicle in gear and started down the driveway, stopping at a gate. He got out and opened it, drove through, then got out and closed it again. They drove across the pasture to another gate. This time Lillie Jean said, “Would you like me to open it?” It only seemed polite.
“This one is kind of tricky.”
“I can probably handle it. We do have gates in Texas.” She’d spent time on her best friend’s tiny ranchette during high school. They had wire gates very similar to the one in front of them.
“Have at it.”
She got out and went to the latch, where she realized she’d never seen anything like it before. There was a lever and a loop and, feeling a little foolish at having to take her time to study the contraption, she finally managed to pop the loop off the top of the wire gate and drag it open so that Gus could drive through.
“That lever is kind of counterintuitive,” she said as she got back into the truck.
“I’m not a fan,” he agreed.
Common ground. She brushed the thought aside. What did she care if he agreed with her or not? Especially when it was patently obvious that she was with him because he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone with Thad. What did he think she would do? Weave some kind of a hypnotic spell over his uncle?
No. He thought she might listen in on phone calls. A phone had been sitting on the table when she and Gus had returned to the house, as if Thad had been making or waiting for calls. She didn’t blame him. She would have done the same. She could have helped him do the same, but that was neither here nor there. They didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t force them to. Let Thad get his answers—then perhaps he’d give her some.