The thought left a hollow feeling in his gut.
The telephone rang and he pushed off the edge of the door facing. Tootsie trailed him to the kitchen phone.
“Hello.”
There was a pause on the other end. Telemarketer, he thought with irritation, but before he could hang up, a male voice said, “Annalisa Keller, please.”
Austin’s grip tightened on the receiver. Annalisa hadn’t mentioned giving his number to anyone. “Who is this?”
Another pause and then, “A friend of hers. It’s urgent I speak with her. Is she there?”
Austin scowled, his mind playing ping-pong with the possibilities. Who knew she was here? And how did anyone other than townsfolk who would give their names obtain that information? “No, she isn’t.”
“Is this Blackwell?”
The hair prickled on Austin’s arms. “Who’s asking?”
“I understand she’s been staying with you since her accident. I hope she’s recovering.”
At the mention of Annalisa’s “accident,” a shiver snaked up Austin’s neck. “She’s fine.”
“Glad to hear it.” An intake of breath. “I know she’s there. Put her on the phone. I have something important to tell her. An emergency of sorts.”
The man’s pushiness was starting to grate on Austin’s nerves. If a true emergency existed, why didn’t he explain?
“She’s at work. Who is this? And how did you get my phone number?”
“Annalisa has a job?” The man sounded surprised. “Where?”
“Look, buddy, if you’re a friend of Annalisa, you would know that. Leave your name and number, and I’ll tell her you called.”
“Never mind. That won’t be necessary. Thank you for your time.”
A click sounded in Austin’s ear.
He scowled at the receiver before hanging it up. “Weird. Real weird.”
Telemarketers grew cleverer all the time, but this caller had known too much. Austin grasped the receiver again and pressed caller ID. His heart fell to the tips of his boot. The warning voice in his head had been correct.
No name, but a California number.
*
On the drive into town, Austin tried unsuccessfully to convince himself that the number could have been a telemarketer in California. Yet, he knew better. A telemarketer would not have known about Annalisa’s accident.
He burst through the door of the Iron Horse Snack Shop like a steer out of a roping chute. A half dozen customers swiveled to take in the newcomer, raised a hand in greeting or nodded, before returning to their food, drink and conversations.
Behind the counter, Annalisa was arranging tortilla chips into a paper bowl. When she saw him, she flashed a smile. “Austin, hi. What are you doing here?”
He charged up to the counter and leaned in. “Are you okay?”
Expression puzzled, she said, “I’m great. Is something wrong?”
Deep breath, Blackwell. Don’t scare her to death.
In his rush to get here, he’d not considered exactly what to tell her or how much. Her old boyfriend had done a number on her sense of safety and the last thing he wanted to do was upset her again. For days after he’d found her at Whisper Falls, she’d been skittish and nervous. She had checked and rechecked windows and doors at night, jumped at every noise. Only in the past couple of days had she begun to relax, and he wanted her to stay that way.
But he was here and had to tell her something. “I was just wondering about—” his attention went to her cast “—your arm. I mean, how are you handling the workload? Is it too much for you? You don’t have to work here if it’s too hard. You can stay at the ranch, work for me.”
He liked the idea immediately although he wasn’t sure where it had come from. Having Annalisa on the ranch all the time made perfect sense. He would be there with her. He could keep her safe.
Annalisa looked at him as if he’d grown an extra eye.
“I’ve worked here for over a week, Austin. Everything is great.” She set the nacho bowl on the counter, and then with one hand, she poured a dipper of hot cheese sauce over the chips. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“I could pay you more than you make here.”
“To do what? Feed the dogs?” She spooned a pile of sliced jalapeños over the cheese.
“And cook. Cassie is starving me to death. You could be our housekeeper, cook, whatever you want.”
Annalisa was already shaking her head. “You and Cassie have done enough, Austin. I can’t impose on you any more than I already have.”
“It’s no imposition.” His voice rose a little. She didn’t get the point and he couldn’t tell her.
“I like working here. Whisper Falls people are warm and embracing, and I’m making friends. But thank you for the offer.”
“Oh. Right.” He got the message. No sensible, attractive female wanted to be stuck out in the sticks with a cranky cowboy and a pack of dogs. Women need a social life. Hadn’t he learned anything from Blair? “Just an idea. If you change your mind…”
With deft, one-handed skill, she slid the nachos in front of a pimple-faced teenage boy, adding a smile for good measure. “Would you like something to drink with that?”
The skinny kid hitched a shoulder. “Dew.”
“Large?”
“Yeah.”
While she completed the boy’s order, Austin brooded over his choices. She was a grown woman, and he had no right keeping this information from her. On the other hand, he wasn’t positive James had been the caller. Why upset her for nothing?
Austin watched as she served up the boy’s drink and said something that made the sulky teenager smile. Another customer lifted his coffee cup and she spouted off a teasing remark as she whipped the carafe from the stand. She looked happy. In the past few days, a sparkle had come into her eyes and the jittery worry had receded.
Hands on his hips, Austin tilted his head back to watch the ceiling fans spin in slow circles. He couldn’t do it. He could not say the words that would put fear back into her life.
*
“Here he comes again.” Miss Evelyn nudged Annalisa as Austin sauntered through the door of the snack shop.
“He likes your pie.”
Miss Evelyn laughed so hard that Annalisa had to pound her on the back.
“Shh,” she whispered, giggling. Miss Evelyn was right. Austin had been in the shop every afternoon for more than a week. And every time he passed through the doors, hat in hand and dark hair mussed, her heart did a silly little jitterbug.
“You okay?” he asked as he always did.
“Fine. What brings you to town?”
“Got hungry for Miss Evelyn’s apple pie.”
Behind her, Evelyn broke into another fit of laughter. Her eyes watered. When Austin stared at the rosy-cheeked woman, she waved a plump hand. “Private joke. I gotta run. Ladies Auxiliary meeting at the church.” To Annalisa, she said, “Get him that pie, hon.”
Then she laughed all the way out the door.
*
Austin slung one leg over the bar stool. He wasn’t stupid. He knew why Miss Evelyn was cackling like a hen. She thought he’d developed a crush on Annalisa. He plopped his hat on the stool next to him and ran a hand through his mussed hair. Making the daily trip to town cost him some work time at the ranch, but the peace of mind was worth the effort. Today, the rain was excuse enough.
“Place is kind of empty,” he said, circling the room with a glance as Annalisa slid the white saucer of pie in front of him.
“Uncle Digger left with a trainload of customers a few minutes ago.”
“I thought it might be the rain.”
“Could be. Business has been slower than usual.”
“Sit down and I’ll buy you something to eat.”
“Okay.” She glanced at the big clock on the back wall. “Cassie’s coming by at three to drive me to Dr. Ron’s.”
“Are you sick?”
She indicated the cast. “He�
��s putting on a short, waterproof version. I’ll actually be able to move my elbow again.” She lifted both arms—as much as possible—in a victory shake. “Cannot wait for that!”
“A cause for celebration. Bring more pie.”
With a smile, she opened the refrigerator and brought a yogurt cup loaded with fresh fruit to the counter. “You have pie. I’ll have this. Cassie’s fast food diet is wearing me down.”
“Another reason to hire on as my cook.”
Not taking the bait, Annalisa settled in beside him with her snack, and he caught the smell of French fries and strawberries mingled with her shampoo—some fancy, girly stuff Cassie had brought home from the beauty shop. He let the scent settle in his lungs right next to the apple and cinnamon.
“So what’s new in Whisper Falls today?” He cut a sliver of flaky, soft crust. After eating the dessert every day for over a week, he wasn’t quite as eager for the first bite. Maybe he should try something else tomorrow.
“Everyone’s talking about Pumpkin Fest and the beautification project.” Her spoon did a slow swirl around the fluffy yogurt. “Are you going?”
“Never have.”
“Never?”
“I don’t see the point.” A flicker in blue irises told him she was disappointed by his response. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but… “You should go. Cassie makes a big deal of it.”
“She has a date.”
The news shocked him to the toes of his Tony Lamas. “She does? With who?”
“Rusty Fairchild.”
“The mayor?” He couldn’t believe it. The baby-faced mayor couldn’t be more than twenty-five. From all appearances, he didn’t even shave! “He’s too young for her.”
“Why, Austin Blackwell, you silly man. Cassie isn’t yet thirty, and she’s pretty and sweet and loads of fun. The mayor is fortunate she said yes.”
“I just never thought—” He bit off the words. Cassie had been devastated to lose Darrell.
Annalisa touched the back of his hand. “Cassie is healing, Austin. She has an enormous capacity to love. Keeping it bottled inside isn’t good for her.”
As if his hand had a mind of its own, it turned palm up so Annalisa’s fingers rested lightly in the center. He was tempted to close his fingers and hold on. Tempted, but he didn’t. “It’s too soon.”
She stared, gaze pinned to his. “Are you talking about her or yourself?”
The question startled him. He withdrew his hand, fisting it tight against the edge of the counter. Had his ever-meddling sister said something? “What do you mean?”
Annalisa shook her head and the overhead light picked up the shine of her golden hair. “I was thinking of the way I feel, I suppose. Part of me wants to hide away from life and never get involved again. I’m afraid of getting hurt, of making more mistakes, but that’s not living.” She picked at the stem of a fresh strawberry. “Jesus came that we might have an abundant life, free from fear and worry. Uncle Digger told me that. I don’t think I’d ever heard it before.”
Had he? He didn’t think so.
“I want my life to be full, Austin, full of love and laughter and family. Don’t you want that, too?”
The conversation was getting way too complicated for him. “All I want is a successful ranch and this piece of pie.”
But he lied. He wanted a lot more than that. So much that he couldn’t meet her eyes again as he sat like a tree stump, contemplating her wise comments.
His life was good, full. Sort of. Just because he didn’t join every committee in the Ozarks like his sister didn’t mean squat. He’d always thought Cassie volunteered to fill the hole left by her shattered future. Maybe she did. But a date? With a mayor who looked like Mayberry’s Opie?
“Customers,” Annalisa said, pushing away from her seat.
Austin recognized Creed Carter’s trim, military build and aviator sunglasses and the ever-present black T-shirt with the chopper logo. The man was pleasant enough, but sheesh, the noise from that helicopter. Austin hated it.
“How ya doing, Austin?” Creed joined him at the bar.
“Good. Yourself?”
“Can’t complain.”
“What can I get for you, Creed?” Annalisa had returned to her place behind the bar.
“Got any salad?”
“We made some fresh this morning. Would you like grilled chicken on it as usual?”
As usual? How often did the chopper pilot come in here?
“Yes, thanks.” Creed motioned toward the glass-fronted box filled with a variety of bottled drinks. “A bottle of OJ, too.”
Salad? Orange juice? What was this guy, a health food nut? Whatever happened to men who liked fat, greasy burgers and sugar-laden soda pop? Men like him?
“I guess you can’t fly much on rainy days,” Annalisa said as she neatly arranged two microwaved chicken strips atop a bowl of crisp lettuce and tomatoes.
“Going up is not the problem, but as a general rule tourists don’t get out in weather like this. Have you ever been up in a chopper?”
“Never. It must be fun.”
“Flying’s more than fun.” The guy’s swarthy face glowed like a kid’s on Christmas. “You have God and Heaven above you and all creation below. There’s no place else I’d rather be.”
Austin wished good old Creed was up there right now. Him and his good looks and easy conversation. Austin searched for something to say and came up short. The pilot, on the other hand, was as chatty as Mickey Mouse.
Austin didn’t figure he should be surprised. Since Annalisa started working at the Iron Horse, yahoos like Davis Turner and the chopper pilot seemed to show up every afternoon. Like bees to a bright flower, they came.
Austin scowled at his half-eaten pie.
“The flying business is slow today. Why don’t you go up with me when you get off work?” Creed said. “I’ll show you the Ozarks as you’ve never seen them.”
“I’d love to.” Her sparkly gaze flicked toward Austin. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Surprised at how vehemently he objected, Austin found his voice. “You have a doctor’s appointment.”
“Oh, that’s right. Rain check?” she asked, hopefully.
Creed’s suntanned cheeks stretched wide. Enough white teeth to please an orthodontist flashed. “Done. Anytime you’re ready, say the word and I’ll take you flying.”
Austin chased the pie with a swig of milk. It curdled in his stomach.
Chapter Eight
The next Saturday Austin found himself working beside Davis Turner and several other men as they ripped boards from the side of a dilapidated house and stacked them into piles. Whisper Falls was an old town and there were too many homes like this one that had fallen on hard times and were scheduled for demolition. In Whisper Falls, demolition wasn’t a machine. It was a handful of volunteers rounded up by the venerable Evelyn Parsons.
Miss Evelyn strutted around the cluttered worksite like a banty rooster, handing out advice and encouragement while Annalisa, Cassie and others he knew mostly by name stuffed random garbage into black plastic trash bags. The day had the atmosphere and mood of a picnic rather than a lot of hard, dirty work. People joked and talked. Someone had brought an old boom box and cranked up some bluegrass music. And Miss Evelyn’s committee promised food and drink.
The flyboy was there, too. Austin was still trying to decide if Creed had been hitting on Annalisa that day at the Iron Horse or if he was simply an outgoing, affable guy. So far, the two had paid little attention to each other and Annalisa hadn’t taken him up on the offer to fly over the Ozarks. For some inexplicable reason Austin felt better knowing that.
The mysterious caller hadn’t phoned again, either, and Austin figured he could lighten up on the daily guard duty. Maybe the call had been a telemarketer, not James, and he’d done the right thing by not telling Annalisa.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps James was gone for good, although a spot way down in the bottom of his gut remained unset
tled. He knew about abusive men, control freaks who wanted to dominate women. They left their mark, both physically and mentally. Sometimes those marks never healed no matter how hard a good man tried.
At that moment, Annalisa and her oversize garbage bag rounded the corner of the house. His mouth went dry. Trying not to stare, even though that was exactly what he was doing, he casually tossed a broken board into the pile. She was wearing an ancient pair of Cassie’s blue jeans, rolled at the ankle to compensate for the fact that she was taller than his sister. Her shirt was one of his old ones, tied at the curve of a slender waist. With her golden hair slicked up in a high, bouncy ponytail, she reminded him of girls in the old movie Grease. Cute. Gorgeous. Seriously hot. At that moment, with the morning sun heating the back of his neck and his heart thudding, he realized what he’d been denying for days. His daily treks to the Iron Horse and his evenings on the front porch listening to Annalisa’s day were not completely about protecting her.
After six years of guarding his heart, he was in trouble, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“There’s water and pop when you boys get thirsty,” Miss Evelyn yelled, pointing toward a huge red ice chest in the back of a pickup truck. “Marvin is bringing sandwiches from the diner around noon.”
Marvin Clemson owned a small café on Easy Street.
“What about you, cowboy?” Annalisa came toward him, smiling. “Want a soda? I’m parched.”
“Water sounds good.” He sleeved the sweat off his forehead, willing his pulse to settle. No use getting crazy. “How about you, Davis? Ready for a break?”
Davis tossed a board onto the pile. Dust puffed up and out. “Might as well. You buying?”
Austin grinned at the joke. “Sure. You can buy the next round.”
With the ease of friends, an ease that surprised Austin no little amount, the men moved toward the truck. Annalisa fell in step next to Austin. Her positioning did not go unnoticed by the cowboy. A buzz of energy surged through his veins.
“We’re getting a lot done,” she said. “You guys are like a machine.”
Rancher's Refuge (Whisper Falls) Page 9