CHAPTER ONE
“I’ll see you one and raise you two.” Eileen Farraday tossed her chips onto the table. More chips clattered, landing in the makeshift pot. Her cards had been running hot all morning. She didn’t dare move. Fear of her luck changing wouldn’t even allow her to run to the ladies room. Grandma Siobaughn had always said, when your blessings are running high, don’t change a thing. Well, that little saying was a two-way street. Her sainted grandmother was also known to get up and walk around while playing cards in order to change her luck for the better.
“Royal Flush.” Flashing a huge grin, Ruth Ann fanned her cards out and waited triumphantly for the others to show their hands.
“Blast.” Sally May slammed her cards down. “Thought you were bluffing.”
So did Eileen. Who knew Ruth Ann would come up with one of the few hands that could beat her four kings.
“Oh my.” Dorothy, one of the founding members of the Tuckers Bluff Ladies Afternoon Social Club, pointed over her cards to the front door.
Tall, slender, wearing shades almost as big as her face, and a hat well-suited for a glamorous star of a 1950’s motion picture, a woman stood in the doorway of the café discretely scanning the room.
The well-dressed blonde reminded Eileen of her niece-in-law Meg the day she first came to Tuckers Bluff. Too pretty and too pressed to come from anywhere around these parts. “Wonder who she is.”
“New school teacher?” Abbie suggested, holding out a coffee carafe, raising her brows at each of the ladies in silent question of more or not. “I heard she’s due in town any day. Will be staying at Meg’s B&B while she finds a permanent place.”
“If she’s the new elementary school teacher, I just celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday.” Sally May skewered Abbie with a what-Kool-Aid-have-you-been-drinking glare. “No woman who works with young children on a daily basis shows up dressed like she fell off the cover of a Paris fashion magazine. Not even if she’s in Paris.”
“And especially not in dusty West Texas cattle country.” Dorothy bobbed her head. “At the first sign of glue stick-y fingers or wayward Magic Marker, that woman would be running for home.”
“Well, looks like we’re fixing to find out.” Eileen tipped her head in the direction of her niece-in-law Joanna coming through the door and greeting the newcomer. All Eileen would need was time to whip up a batch of her pumpkin brownies along with five minutes alone with Finn’s wife and she’d have the whole scoop, including the stranger’s blood type. Yep. Curiosity wouldn’t be killing this cat today.
“Well, how about that.” Dorothy faced the side window. “You may want to look at this, Eileen.”
More interested in the newcomer, she dragged her gaze away from the two women still standing at the doorway and looked out the side window. Sitting at the edge of the parking lot, head tilted to one side, Gray, the beautiful wolf mix who now lived at the ranch, blinked at her. “What the heck is he doing all the way out here?”
“Maybe he stowed away in the back of your truck?” Ruth Ann suggested.
“Maybe.” Her face pinched in thought. “But I don’t think so.”
“You don’t suppose Gray’s up to his old tricks again?” Sally May said softly.
All four heads turned to the tall blonde.
“Maybe.” Eileen studied the newcomer carefully. But for who?
* * *
Morgan Farraday carefully watched Meg’s back as she stared at the columns of two by fours that until yesterday had been the rear wall of the small family living room. This morning had been spent ripping off the sheetrock and plaster from the only thing standing between the newly enclosed back porch and what would soon be an enlarged apartment for her and Adam’s growing family.
“Wow, just wow.” Meg spun and flung her arms around his neck, kissed his cheek, and practically bounced away from him to once again stare at the mostly open space. “This is going to be amazing.”
“It’s your vision.” Morgan smiled at his cousin’s wife. Meg was a smart and competent businesswoman who just happened to be a heck of a nice lady—and the perfect match for his cousin Adam. The delighted, wide-eyed gaze and grin that stretched from one side of her face to the other was the best affirmation of a well-executed plan. He loved making people happy, making a homeowner’s renovation dreams come true. When the homeowner was family, all the better. “Now you’ll have plenty of space for all of Fiona’s things.”
“Tell me about it. Who knew such a little bundle would come with so much…stuff.” Chuckling, she continued to look at the newly opened space instead of facing him. “When do the studs come all the way down?”
“Now.”
“Really?” Hands clasped tightly closed in front of her, she spun back around, somehow smiling even brighter than a moment before.
“New support beam is in place, we don’t need these anymore. Want to help?”
“You sure?”
He held back a chuckle and pulling his hammer from the metal belt loop, grinning, he extended his arm. The next thing he knew, the studs were gone, Meg stood proudly admiring the truly spacious room, and heavy footsteps sounded behind them.
“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look in a hardhat?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Morgan laughed at his cousin Adam ogling his wife as if they were still newlyweds. What was it with young love and this side of the family? These two made being in love look so easy. He’d learned a long time ago that aspirations and chaos eventually won out and life—his life—was much simpler on his own.
Meg rolled her eyes, removed her hat, and handed it over to Morgan. “Thank you. That was fun.”
Fun? That had to be a first. He didn’t know many women who enjoyed demolition. Another place and time and Morgan would have wondered if Meg had a single sister. Even if the construction business booming and pulling him all over the state, and like now, out of state, left no time for a woman in his life, he’d learned his lesson. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Women as special as Meg simply didn’t come along every day of the week. Not without strings. Complicated strings.
Moving closer to his wife, Adam curled his arm around her waist, drew her in and gently kissed her on the lips. “Seriously, you look great and so does the room.”
Meg’s eyes twinkled at her husband.
The simple exchange of love and affection felt oddly personal. Morgan shifted his gaze to the fallen studs, and examined them a short while before venturing to return his attention to his cousin and the now missing wall.
Meg patted her husband’s arm and turned to Morgan. “I’m so glad you suggested the wall of windows instead of the typical double framed.”
Her effervescent enthusiasm shoved his discomfort aside and once again reminded him why he was glad to be here. “When you mentioned how important light is to you, it was a no brainer.”
“Looking good.” Ryan, his brother closest in age, came in from the hall. “Soon you won’t have to keep hauling Fiona all the way out to Uncle Sean and Aunt Eileen’s to avoid the construction noise.”
Meg squirmed in place. “Not so sure Aunt Eileen’s going to like that, even if she let Becky have Fiona for a while so she wouldn’t miss out on the card game.”
Ryan shook his head. “Aunt Eileen really plays poker in a café?”
“Religiously.” Adam chuckled.
“Well,” Ryan shrugged, smiling and shaking his head, “only a few more days and we’ll be out of your hair.”
The light mood that had filled the room dimmed. Ever since doing the fire rehab on Chloe’s house last Christmas, Morgan had been looking for a good reason to spend more than a weekend in Tuckers Bluff. When Adam had reached out to him explaining they didn’t want to move out of the B&B but really needed some more space, Morgan and his brother jumped on the chance to come and stay at the ranch in the thick of this branch of the Farradays for a bit. Maybe he and Ryan shouldn’t have worked so hard and fast.
The expression on Meg’s face crumpled like a Sharpei. “I’ll have you know we like having you two around. Besides, I’m not so sure Aunt Eileen is going to like not having the baby every day, but she did mention that she wants to redo the master bath at the ranch. Says it’s time for a walk-in shower.”
“As a matter of fact,” Adam waved a finger at him, “Brooks and Allison are almost ready to move forward with the next phase of the hospital.”
Ryan chuckled. “Y’all wouldn’t be trying to keep us in Texas, would you?”
“Yes,” Adam and Meg echoed quickly.
Adam sidestepped his wife and nodded from one brother to the other. “It really has been nice having you guys around again.” No doubt Adam was thinking about all the lost years between the two Farraday clans. Similar thoughts and feelings had passed over him since finding it so easy to pick up with his cousins exactly where they’d left off as teens.
“Don’t look at us that way.” Ryan shook his head. “It’s been really great reconnecting. We’ll be back more often, promise. Still, I can’t shake this gnawing feeling that bringing us here to help out isn’t a matter of supply and demand as much as a part of a masterful scheme of Aunt Eileen’s to marry off the only remaining Farraday bachelors.”
Adam coughed and Meg thumped him lightly against the arm.
“What?” Adam shrugged at his wife. “The man could be right.”
Smiling, Ryan shook his head more vigorously. “I’m glad all the married Farradays are so happy, really I am, but I happen to like being single. Able to go where I want when I want. Which reminds me.” He turned to Morgan. “Owen and Pax are going hunting with a few guys this weekend. Think you can finish things up here without me?”
Arms crossed, Morgan nodded. He wasn’t as anxious as Ryan to hurry home. Life had been good to him. Very good. Not once in recent years had he considered something was missing in his life. Until he’d returned to Tuckers Bluff, and even though he wasn’t interested in any subversive matchmaking plots his aunt might have in mind, he still liked the idea of hanging around as long as he could.
“Yoo hoo,” Becky called out.
The old saying about the pitter patter of little feet was absolutely true. Morgan turned at the female voice calling from downstairs and could hear the little footsteps rushing across the hardwood floors, no doubt making a bee-line for the stairs.
“Gotcha.” DJ’s voice carried up the stairs, followed by the giggles of their daughter Katie, officially Caitlin Helen Farraday.
All the adults on the third floor headed downstairs. The first person to reach the bottom, Meg retrieved her little girl from her sister-in-law’s arms. Fiona and Katie, being only a couple of months apart, got along like the proverbial house on fire. It was a blast to watch those two side by side explore and discover the world around them. More fun than he would have thought a few short months ago.
“We may have to reconsider putting a gate on the first floor even if it’s a bit inconvenient for guests.” Adam shook his head at his niece doing her best to wiggle out of her father’s arms.
“Don’t do it on Katie’s account. We’re not here enough and before you know it, she’ll be running up those stairs like an Olympic athlete without supervision.” DJ set his girl down, the arm of a watchful parent prepared to launch if necessary to recapture the speed demon.
Expecting her to head straight for the lower steps again, Morgan was taken by surprise when instead Katie darted in his direction and threw her arms up at him.
“Well, hi there.” After a few weeks with a passel of little ones, Morgan had gotten pretty comfortable with the routine. First, he’d play whose belly is that, tickling her tummy, then they’d do airplane, where he’d hold her over his head and zoom her back and forth until she giggled so loud that anyone in the room laughed along with them.
Where DJ’s little Caitlin was the adventurous one, Adam’s Fiona was the snuggler. Always happy to tuck her head into someone’s shoulder and just watch and learn from the people around her, especially her cousin. Like right now. Eventually she’d give in to curiosity and take a turn with Uncle Morgan.
“You do that really well for a bachelor.” Becky’s sparkling eyes remained fixed on her daughter as Morgan held her high over his head.
“I catch on quick.” He pulled Katie in close and rubbed her tummy with the top of his head. Her bursts of giggles had him and every other adult chuckling too.
His cousins had indeed found the true brass ring of life. Morgan had always been surrounded by family. He and his brothers were close, very close. He’d been content with that, but now he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing out on something really special. Of course, he’d felt that way after college when he’d gone shopping for a ring for Carolyn, and look how well that had turned out.
* * *
The hat was definitely overkill. Then again, so was the hot Texas sun. As a fair-haired kid with lily white skin growing up on the beaches of Southern California, it hadn’t taken Valerie Moore long to learn the sun was definitely not on her side. Overstatement or not, hats were her friend.
“Valerie?” A petite, dark-haired woman with a smile as bright as the Texas sun looked up at her.
“Joanna?”
The woman stuck her hand out. “Welcome to Tuckers Bluff.”
“Thank you.” So far so good. Joanna was as pleasant in person as on the phone.
A waitress sidled up to Joanna sporting an equally bright grin. Coming from California, there was nothing unusual about everybody around you smiling, but these people all looked like Cheshire cats. Maybe it was the Texas heat.
“Well, this is a nice surprise.” The waitress offered a quick hug.
“Hey.” Jo returned the familiar embrace, turned and waved her arm to Val. “Valerie, this is my cousin-in-law, Abbie.”
“Nice to meet you.” Abbie nodded.
“Pleasure,” she responded, trying to add a little more oomph to her own smile.
“Since I’m in town, thought I might pop in later and visit with Brendan—and Jamie too, of course.”
“Of course.” The woman laughed. “If you go, make sure to check if he’s home or taken the baby to the pub, though it’s harder for Jamie to work now that Brendan is crawling.”
Baby? At the pub? Val’s gaze shifted from one woman to the other. Surely there had to be a good reason for a baby at a pub. Nothing came quickly to mind but she figured it had to be a doozy and then wondered if it was crazy enough to spin into a sitcom? Mentally shaking her head, she took a deep breath. Nobody liked a desperate producer. Too bad, the potential antics were starting to play in her head like a movie reel in fast motion.
“Everything okay?” Joanna asked her.
“What? Yes. Why?”
“You’re shaking your head.”
“Oh.” Val laughed. Her expressions and gestures gave her thoughts away a few times too many. “Sorry, was thinking too hard.”
“Ah.” Joanna flashed that blinding Texas smile again.
“Table or booth?” Abbie grabbed a single menu.
“Booth. In the back.”
“Got it.” Joanna’s cousin nodded and led them to a corner booth with a bit of distance between them and the nearest table, and handed Val a menu. “Things shouldn’t get crowded for about another hour.”
“Thanks.”
It took a few moments to order drinks, establish that Joanna, and just about everyone else in town, didn’t need a menu, and settle into their seats before her phone buzzed and anticipation zinged through her system. “I have to take this. Will you excuse me?”
“Of course.”
Weaving her way through the tables to the back hall in search of privacy, she passed a freestanding ladder, briefly considering who leaves an empty ladder in the middle of a hall. Phone to her ear, she debated ducking into the ladies room, but the way her luck had been running, every stall would be occupied and all would echo loudly when flushed at the same time. Turning her back to the dining area, she jammed a finger in her other ear and buried her face in the dark corner. “What did they say?”
Her best friend since freshman year at UCLA, and a screenwriter for one of the hottest serial adaptations on cable, Marilyn had used her connections to pitch this last idea. The hope had been that Val’s efforts might get farther with an insider in her corner. “No go.”
Crud. That’s what she was afraid of. Her forehead thumped against the hard wall. Three series pitched, three series struck out. She couldn’t blame them, she wasn’t all that enthusiastic about the last project either, but getting out of the reality TV game was her best shot at a new full-time gig and moving her career to the next level. Too bad no one else thought so.
“You still there?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry. Switching gears in this industry isn’t easy.”
Brother, did she know that. The question now was, even if she convinced Joanna to give her an option on the new book, if she couldn’t get backing for anything but reality TV, what did it matter how good a story she brought to the table.
“They’d be interested if you come up with a fresh concept for a new home renovation show.”
And again, wasn’t that the problem? How many ways could a producer spin a married couple, any couple, fixing up old houses?
“That TV home remodel with all those retro stars was a hit. Maybe we should try something like that?”
“Then it wouldn’t be fresh, would it?”
“This is Hollywood. Fake it.”
“Easier said than done.” If only she could fake her dwindling bank account. Lifting her head, she blew out a long, slow breath. “I’m at lunch. Let’s talk later.”
“Sounds good. Call when you get back to LA.”
“Will do.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she said a silent prayer. Her gut told her Joanna Farraday’s book held the answer to all her problems.
Eyes open, she spun around, surprised by the blinding burst of light from a distant window. Taking a short step, she blinked and took another before her toe connected with something clunky. Her gaze dropped to the ground, still struggling to make out what was right in front of her. Who moved the ladder?
“Sorry.” The voice was deep and low and very male.
Her gaze lifted. “No prob…” The words dried up in her mouth. Teetering on that once empty ladder, directly in her line of vision, perfectly rounded denim-clad masculine buns of steel came into very clear view. One muscular leg descended a step, pulling the denim more tightly against said steel buns. If she could have conjured up a drop of saliva she would have whistled.
“Excuse me,” he rumbled.
Slowly her gaze dropped to his leather boot and back to that well-formed derriere and up to a state sized belt buckle.
“I need to get down.”
Down? Once again, her focus wandered up and down before her brain finally began to fire on all pistons, realizing she was standing in his way. Taking a step back, her mouth connected with her brain. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“You were on the phone. It seemed important, but I only had a couple of minutes and I promised Abbie I’d take a look at the light.”
“Yes.” The single syllable wasn’t quite the appropriate response, but the almost hypnotic timbre of his voice had veered her mind off track again. Stringing coherent words together wasn’t going to happen.
On the ground, he slid a screwdriver into a pouch that hung from his hip. The way his hand rose to his forehead, she almost thought he was about to tip a nonexistent hat. “Thanks. Have a nice day.”
A smile spread across his face, her gaze leveled with deep twinkling blue eyes, and for the second time in only a few short moments, her mouth went perfectly dry. Somehow she managed to mumble, you too, as he lifted the folded ladder and turned to walk away. The hammer and who knows what else jingled with every step he took. No wonder the network wanted a fixer upper show. She could binge watch that man at work any day.
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