The Heart of Hill Country

by Sherryl Woods

  At any rate, he would trade the potential profits for the pure adrenaline rush of bringing in a new gusher any day.

  Instead, he was surrounded by paperwork, mounds of it, most of which didn’t matter a tinker’s damn in the overall scheme of things as near as he could tell.

  Oh, how he hated pushing papers around on a desk, he thought, staring irritably at the mostly untouched piles of it still awaiting some action or another. Well, today he’d had enough of it, he concluded, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. If he hung around another few minutes, he might storm straight back into Jordan’s office and quit, something he didn’t have the right to do with two kids depending on him. The twins were the reason he’d made the move to Los Pinos in the first place. He had to give this major life-style overhaul a chance to work for their sakes.

  Twenty minutes later, he had the top on the classic convertible down, the car radio was blaring a George Strait tune and he was curving down the winding driveway to the white, ranch-style house he’d bought on the outskirts of Los Pinos. There was a little dip in the land, then a rise. His house was nestled in that suggestion of a valley, surrounded by the pines for which the town had been named. A trickle of water that passed for a creek was the north boundary of the property. It looked like a picture-book image of what a home ought to be. He’d bought it at first sight because of that. It had triggered some sort of subliminal yearning within him.

  Not that he had much experience with real homes. He’d bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, a born troublemaker, according to those in the system who’d had to deal with his belligerence.

  Used to being on the move, he’d seen no need to settle down once he’d grown up. Oil had been a way to stay on the go and pile up a decent bankroll.

  Given his total lack of experience with lasting relationships, he probably never should have married, but Caroline had convinced him that they could make it work. When she’d been whispering in his ear late at night, when her magical hands had been busy moving over him, he believed almost anything that came out of her mouth.

  Unfortunately, she hadn’t counted on his refusal to quit wandering wherever the excitement took him. At first, she had gone with him, but once the boys had come along, she’d insisted on staying in one place. A few years of that and she’d gotten lonely and frustrated. When he was home, there had been more fights than loving.

  A few months back, she had walked out, claiming that she’d had the twins to raise all alone for most of the past eight years, now he could see for himself how much fun it was. He could call her when he’d put in equal time and maybe they would work out a new arrangement.

  Duke wasn’t counting on it. He figured the divorce papers he’d received in the mail almost immediately pretty much countered any hopes he might have been harboring that things would eventually return to normal.

  Even so, for a solid month he’d tried to pretend that nothing had changed. He’d convinced himself that he could go right on working crazy hours, taking off at the drop of a hat. Reality had slammed in when the fourth housekeeper in as many weeks quit in a huff.

  Just in case the message wasn’t plain enough, Zachary broke his arm and Joshua brought home a report card that suggested he hadn’t cracked a book since his mother left. Even Duke had been bright enough to figure out that it was time to grow up and take responsibility for his sons, that parenting wasn’t something a man could do in his spare time.

  Not that he hadn’t loved them all along. He had. He adored them. In fact, he was in awe of them. They were bright and mischievous and loving. He just didn’t know a doggone thing about day-in, day-out caregiving. But he could learn, by God. There were books on the subject. He supposed there were even shrinks who specialized in that kind of stuff, not that he would ever be caught dead talking to one.

  He did buy the books, though. A dozen of them the first week. When he caught the boys reading them, he figured he was never going to get an edge unless he worked at parenting full-time. With a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, he had hitched a ride in the corporate jet and had a long talk with Jordan Adams. Jordan came from a long line of men who understood about family. He’d offered Duke a vice presidency in Los Pinos on the spot. With it came the promise of stability.

  Two weeks later, Duke had a new job and a new home. Moving in a hurry was something at which he excelled. It remained to be seen if he could get the rest of it right.

  As he stepped out of the car in front of that appealing new home, the boys came barreling out the front door. It was a scene straight out of an old “Father Knows Best” episode and for a moment he allowed a feeling of immense satisfaction to steal over him. Not that it would last. His kids were irreverent little imps who would never be confused with anybody’s angelic offspring for long.

  “Don’t let the screen door slam,” Duke hollered just as it rocked on its hinges. He winced at the sound. He figured that door, the hinges and the frame would last a month, tops. Fortunately for all of them, he was reasonably handy with tools.

  “Sorry, Dad,” Joshua said unconvincingly.

  “Yeah, sorry,” Zack echoed.

  Already stripped of his jacket and tie himself, he noted that they were looking a little more like normal kids again, with dirt streaking their faces and rips in their T-shirts. There had been one awful period when they’d been so neat and tidy he hadn’t recognized them, just as he often didn’t recognize himself in the business suits he was wearing these days. The boys’ transition had been the fault of the second housekeeper. Or was it the third? Anyway, she’d had a very rigid outlook. She was the only one Duke had actually had to fire. She’d seemed to enjoy the challenge of turning his sons into proper young men a little too much.

  “Hey, Dad, guess what?” Zachary said.

  “Hush,” his brother hissed.

  “What?” Duke asked, suspicion aroused by the exchange.

  Zack scowled at his brother. “We gotta tell him. She’s coming right now.”

  “Who’s coming now?” Duke asked. He glanced up the driveway and saw that, indeed, a four-wheel-drive vehicle of some kind was kicking up dust. “Okay, guys, what’s up? What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “We’re not in any trouble,” Joshua claimed. “Honest, Dad.”

  The last time Duke had heard that he discovered that they had broken a neighbor’s window—his very large, floor-to-ceiling window. It had cost an arm and a leg to repair it. He would be taking the money out of their allowances until they reached puberty.

  Since the truth seemed to be in short supply coming from these two, he decided to wait to see what the new arrival would have to say.

  He studied the car as it came closer. Expensive and trendy once, it was little more than serviceable now. There was a layer of dried dirt, topped by dust over most of it, muting a dark green paint into something closer to muddy moss. For a man who took his cars seriously, this one was enough to make him shudder. He had an automatic hankering to rush for a hose and a can of his best wax.

  The woman who emerged, however, had him shuddering for another, far more positive reason entirely. She was a beauty. Long legs and skinny behind were molded by denim. The suggestion of very interesting curves lurked beneath a short-sleeved silk blouse that had been tied at a waist he could span with his hands. Blond hair, scooped into some sort of ponytail, escaped in curling tendrils to frame a face that was lovely even without makeup. He’d seen that face somewhere before, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember where. As for the rest of her, he wouldn’t have forgotten that in a dozen lifetimes, so apparently they’d never actually met.

  A model, maybe? She was tall and thin enough. An actress? With that golden complexion and blue-gray eyes, she had a face the camera would love. Still, it didn’t quite fit. Besides, Los Pinos, Texas, wasn’t exactly crawling with the rich and famous. The town wasn’t quaint enough to draw tourist
s. Nor was it home to any celebrities he’d ever heard of.

  While his mind sorted through alternate possibilities, she crossed to where they were standing in three brisk strides. He wondered if she realized that the sway of her hips robbed her movements of the professional demeanor she was clearly after. She nodded at the boys, who were suddenly, inexplicably very quiet, then held out her hand.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Danielle Adams. Everyone calls me Dani.”

  Her voice was so low, so blasted seductive that her title and name barely registered. Duke took her hand in his and felt a jolt of pure electricity charge through him. He didn’t feel much inclined to let her go, but she subtly wrestled her hand away from him. The reaction made him smile. So, he thought with satisfaction, she’d felt it, too. Hadn’t liked it half as much as he had, though.

  “Duke Jenkins,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m the vet in Los Pinos,” she said.

  His gaze narrowed. Adams? A veterinarian? The pieces suddenly clicked into place and a sinking sensation settled in his stomach.

  “You’re Jordan’s daughter,” he guessed, remembering where he’d seen that face. It was very prominently displayed on his boss’s desk, right alongside a much less interesting framed photo of his son and a family portrait taken some years back, when this woman had still been in pigtails.

  “Yes,” she said. Then, as if she were anxious to get past the subject of family ties, she rushed on with some convoluted tale of dead goldfish and kittens.

  “I have all three of them in the car, if you’d like to take a look. I think the boys could really learn a lot taking responsibility for them, don’t you?” she concluded, her eyes locked hopefully on his. He noticed they were more blue than gray just now as if some inner fire had sparked the sapphire in them.

  Duke struggled to sort out the tale. When he had, he stared at her incredulously. “They killed two goldfish in less than a week, and you want me to let them care for three kittens? Doesn’t that strike you as a bit risky?”

  She gave him a winning smile that almost caused his heart to slam to a stop. Logic flew out the window. He wanted desperately to do as she asked, anything she asked.

  “Really, it’s not the same thing at all,” she assured him. “Cats, even kittens, are reasonably independent and self-sufficient. And this would be temporary. I’m in a bit of a bind, you see. I have to find homes for these three, plus two more that are too young to separate from their mother and then Francie III is expecting again any day now.”

  Duke was astounded by the casual recitation. “Just how many kittens are we talking about? I mean at your house, not in the car.”

  “Well, of course, there’s no way of telling for sure with Francie, but I think there were five, maybe six others when I left, plus the mothers and a tomcat.”

  “You can’t even keep track of the number of cats living with you?”

  “It changes, you see. Sometimes a neighbor’s tomcat will just wander in and make himself at home, which probably explains why there are so many kittens in the first place. And people find strays and drop them off on my doorstep. I never quite know what to expect.”

  “You’re a vet. Couldn’t you stop this?”

  “I would, but people know I love cats, so they’re always coming to me when they want one. Sometimes they’re just not adopted as quickly as I would like, but sooner or later they all wind up in good homes.” She smiled winningly again. “Like yours. This would be an excellent opportunity for the boys to prove to you that they can take responsibility for a pet, so you’d get them the puppy they want.”

  “And how many puppies do you have around the house?” he inquired suspiciously.

  “None. I found they don’t get along all that well with the cats. I take those out to Uncle Cody. He’s a real sucker for a stray dog.”

  “And you think I’d be a sucker for three kittens?”

  “Oh, no,” she said, sounding genuinely horrified. “I mean the boys did say you were lonely, but...” She winced. “Well, never mind. I just thought maybe you’d be willing to help me out for a bit.”

  Duke eyed his sons. Obviously they’d had a big day. They’d turned downright chatty with Dr. Dani. He would have to warn his latest housekeeper not to take them into town again until they turned twenty. Maybe then they would stay out of mischief and keep the details of his personal life to themselves.

  “Look, it was really nice of you to come out here, but I’m afraid I’ll have to take some time to think about this.”

  “But you have to at least look at the kittens,” Zachary pleaded. “They’re really cute.”

  “And they need homes,” Joshua added. “Just like we did.”

  Duke scowled at Dani, annoyed that she’d put him in this position. The boys knew the rules. Apparently, they also knew he would never be able to resist Dani Adams. “Don’t you want to chime in with your two cents?” he asked her.

  She grinned. “No, they’re doing pretty well on their own. I hate to oversell.”

  He surveyed her thoroughly just to watch the color climb in her cheeks. “Darlin’, something tells me you could sell a man just about anything you put your mind to.”

  To his amusement, she blushed furiously at that, but held her ground.

  “About the kittens,” she persisted.

  Duke recognized that he had been outmaneuvered and outmanned. Heck, he’d been sold when Dani Adams first opened her pretty little mouth. Besides, how much trouble could a kitten get into? “Okay, okay, I’ll look at them. But we’re just taking one. No more. Is that clear?”

  The boys exchanged a look, but nodded dutifully.

  Five minutes later, Dr. Dani Adams was tearing down the driveway kicking up dust again, and he and the boys were each holding one squirming kitten. For the life of him he couldn’t remember exactly how that had happened. Something told him that a man would have to watch his step every single second around that woman or taking in stray kittens would be the least of his problems.

  Back inside, he left the boys playing with the kittens, and headed straight for the kitchen where he could hear Paolina banging around pots and pans in time to the salsa music she was playing loudly enough to wake the dead. He hadn’t decided if the woman was hard of hearing or just used the music to drown out his orders and the boys’ complaints.

  “Paolina?” he shouted over the din. When she didn’t respond, he reached out and turned off the huge boom box on the counter. “Paolina?”

  She glanced up at him in surprise. “¿Sí?”

  “Did you drive the boys into town today?”

  She tilted her head and regarded him warily as if trying to determine the politically correct response. “Sí,” she said eventually. “They ask to go.”

  “Because of the dead goldfish,” Duke said.

  She bobbed her head. “Sí, sí, muy muerto.”

  “Paolina, the next time the boys want you to take them into town, call and check with me first, okay?”

  “Call, sí, sí. I will call.”

  He doubted she really understood a word he was saying, but he figured it was worth a shot. Paolina had been recommended by Jordan. She was related somehow to the line of housekeepers that had been working for their family for generations. A distant cousin, Jordan thought. Just here from Mexico. Very legal. All of her papers were in order. She just needed a job and a few basic language lessons, Jordan had promised.

  Duke was quickly discovering, however, that if he hoped to have any kind of intelligent conversation with her, he was going to have to brush up on his Spanish. What puzzled him, though, was that she seemed to have no difficulty whatsoever comprehending the boys.

  “Gracias, Paolina,” he finally said with a sigh, hoping that at least some of his message had gotten through.

  She smiled brightly. “De nada, Señor Duke.”

 
He retreated to his study, only to find two boys and three rambunctious kittens there before him. The kittens had apparently been on his desk. Papers were scattered in every direction and one kitten, the one they’d informed him was his, was kneading whatever papers remained in his briefcase. Hopefully, it was the contract for those blasted mineral rights Jordan wanted to acquire. He could use the destruction of the paperwork as an excuse to delay the acquisition until he could get more facts to back up his belief that it would be a bad deal.

  He nabbed the kitten as he sat down and allowed it to settle in his lap, where it purred contentedly. He found the sound soothing, even though his thoughts were in turmoil. Images of Dani Adams kept flashing through his mind. Those tantalizing flashes pretty much spoiled the head of steam he was trying to work up all over again at her father. He settled back and let the images linger.

  She wasn’t his type, not really. A little stiff, a little uptight and way, way too brisk and professional. He preferred women who were soft and cuddly and accommodating, the opposite of all those social workers and foster mothers who’d made his childhood a living hell. At least that had been his preference before he’d settled down with Caroline. Since the separation, he’d steered as far away from romantic entanglements as he possibly could. Maybe his type had changed.

  Before he could spend too much time contemplating the likelihood of that, his phone rang. He didn’t waste his breath trying to shush the twins, just grabbed the portable and walked through the French doors onto his patio.

  “Duke? It’s Jordan.”

  His shoulders tensed. “Yes,” he said curtly.

  “Look, I’m sorry our discussion got out-of-hand earlier. I put you into that position so I could take advantage of your expertise. I should be listening to you.”

  “With all due respect, yes, sir, you should.”