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Synopsis
When a Cowboy Meets an Heiress Cash Hardeman thinks he'll have all the time in the world to find the right woman . . . until he discovers he might lose the family ranch if he's not married by his thirtieth birthday. So when Boston beauty Annelise blows into town on her Harley, Cash can't help wondering if she's the sexy, leather-clad answer to all his problems. Giving her bodyguards and the paparazzi the slip, heiress Annelise Montjoy comes to Maverick Junction on a mission to help her ailing grandfather. But keeping her identity hidden in the small Texas town is harder than she expected-especially around a tempting cowboy like Cash. He's the kind of man who makes her want to spill all her secrets. Soon Annelise starts to wonder if she's finally found the man who can love her for herself rather than her money. But will the secrets they both keep ruin their plans to ride off into the sunset together?
Release date: December 4, 2012
Publisher: Forever Yours
Print pages: 404
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Somebody Like You
Lynnette Austin
Chapter One
You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Annelise Montjoy motored her Harley along what appeared to be the town’s main street. This was Maverick Junction?
A blue Cadillac, surely old enough to be in a museum, was parked nose-in to the curb. An incredibly ugly dog sat in the front seat.
Thank God, this, the final destination of her cross-country trip from Boston, was temporary. It looked like the kind of place you ran away from, not toward. If luck was on her side, she’d be out of here in a couple of weeks at the most.
And then a store door opened and her breath caught. Go, Texas! Look at that cowboy. So different from any of the men in her life. So…intriguing. She slowed to nearly a standstill and watched as he swiped an arm across his forehead, then dumped a grocery bag in the backseat of the old Caddy.
Cracking open a bottle of water, he turned his head in her direction. Her breath hitched as his gaze ran lazily over her, her bike. Then he snagged a Styrofoam cup from inside his car and filled it before setting it on the blistering pavement for the dog waiting patiently beside him.
Leaning against the faded fender, he thumbed back his battered Stetson and chugged the rest of the water. Twisting the cap back on, he tossed the bottle into the recycling bin beside the grocer’s door.
Annelise pulled her bike into a parking space across the street, deliberately turning her back on the stranger. While his clothes might have been stereotypical cowboy—worn jeans, a faded T-shirt, cowboy boots, and hat—he took everything from simmer to boiling point. The jeans hugged long legs, while the shirt stretched taut across his muscled chest. There was something very alluring about him and that surprised her. He wasn’t the kind of man she was usually drawn to.
He shouldn’t appeal to her.
He did.
Not so much as a breeze stirred. The flag on the post office hung limp, and the cheerful red, white, and blue balloons someone had hung outside a beauty salon drooped listlessly.
Unable to stop herself, she peeked in the bike’s rearview mirror. Cowboy was bent over, talking to the dog. Quite a view, but she wasn’t here to admire a fine jean-clad butt. She needed something cold to drink and something light to eat. Then she’d go in search of Dottie Willis and the apartment she’d rented over the Internet. Maverick Junction, Texas. Annelise wished she was driving through, wished she could view it as simply a spot on the map where she’d stopped for lunch one summer day.
Well, she’d just have to work fast.
But before she’d even taken two steps, her cell rang. She checked caller ID, blew out a huge sigh, and dutifully answered.
“Annelise, where are you? When are you coming home?” Her mother’s voice sounded strained.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Are you and Dad okay?”
“We’re fine.”
“Grandpa?”
“He’s had a good day. A good week, actually.” Her mother hesitated. “He misses you.”
“I miss him, too.”
“Then come home.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re being selfish.”
“No, I’m not. I’m trying to help while the rest of you stand by and do nothing.”
“We’re respecting Vincent’s wishes.”
Her grandfather, her strong, always in control grandfather, had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. After aggressive treatment by the country’s best doctors, Vincent Montjoy was in remission. But the prognosis wasn’t good. Her grandfather needed a bone marrow transplant, and none of the family matched.
And then, Annelise’s whole world had flipped upside down—again. There was hope. It turned out he might have a half sister. One who could carry the life-saving marrow match. One he’d adamantly forbidden anyone to track down.
Well, she would.
And that’s why she was in Maverick Junction, Texas. Why she’d ridden her Harley here from Boston.
Her first stop had been at a sorority sister’s whose husband was a whiz with both computers and genealogy. If anyone could ferret out the information she needed, it would be him. By the time she’d left the next morning, Ron had already been knee-deep in research for her.
But she hadn’t taken into account the physical toll of riding the heavy motorcycle a couple thousand miles. By the time she’d been on the bike for an eight-hour stretch, her butt and legs ached. Sharing the highway with semis, hour after hour, alone, was no picnic.
“Annelise Elizabeth Katherine Montjoy, you will get on a plane today and come home. We’ll arrange transport for that motorcycle of yours.”
“Mom—”
“Not another word, honey. Tell me where you are, and I’ll phone you back once your travel arrangements are made. Silas will pick you up at the airport.”
“No.”
Her mother sighed. “You’re sure you’re safe? Nobody—”
“I’m fine, Mother. Believe me. I’m right where I need to be.” With that, she hung up.
Guilt nagged at her. When you had as much money as her family, the threat of kidnapping always hung over you. For as long as she could remember, she’d had her own bodyguards. Which equaled no privacy. Two muscle-bound men tagging along had turned more than one date into a fiasco.
But she couldn’t let her parents or her grandfather worry. She’d call her cousin. Later. Right now, she was thirsty. She headed for the café.
* * *
Seated toward the back of Sally’s Place, Annelise heard the door open and close. The bell overhead jingled as outside heat rushed in. Without even looking, she knew who’d blown in with it. Well, he was no concern of hers. In all fairness, she doubted there was anywhere else to eat lunch in this one-pony town.
Annelise went back to studying the menu. Chili, country-fried steak, burritos, enchiladas, and just about anything that could be deep-fried.
A pair of dusty boots stopped at her table. She lifted her head and looked straight into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. For an instant, all sense left her; speech deserted her.
“Seems there’re no tables left,” Cowboy said. “Mind if I sit with you?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled out a chair.
She blinked, sanity returning. Her gaze swept the wealth of unoccupied tables. “No empty tables?”
“Well—” He held out his hands, palms up.
Up close, Cowboy was wicked handsome. If she wasn’t dead set on settling in today so she could head over to Lone Tree tomorrow— “Actually, I’m afraid I do mind.”
He cocked his head, tipped back his cowboy hat. “Not very neighborly.”
“Good thing I’m not your neighbor, then.”
“Ouch.” He grimaced. “I don’t bite, and I’ve had all my shots.”
Sadly, she shook her head. “I suppose someone told you that line was cute.”
“Nope.” He looked at the chair, then back at her.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a lot on my mind, and I really don’t want company.”
“Okay, let’s head at it from a different direction. I do. Need company, that is. I’ve been out on the ranch with nothing but surly bulls and even meaner cowhands for way too long. Sure would be a pleasure to sit across from you for a few minutes. I won’t hold you up. Honest. When you’re ready to go, you go.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are all Texans this persistent?”
He narrowed his eyes in consideration. “We might be. Guess that’s why we lost so many good men at the Alamo. Texans hate to throw in the towel. Never can tell when things might start going your way.”
Despite herself, Annelise laughed. She hadn’t expected such a rough-and-tumble-looking cowboy to be so optimistic.
The owner chose that moment to wander over. “Hey, Cash, ain’t seen you in a while.”
“Been busy breaking in a couple new horses and doing some branding. So, how’s my favorite gal, Sally?”
“My feet hurt, and my cook’s throwin’ a tantrum. Other than that, all’s good.” Sally pushed at frizzy blond hair and snapped her gum. “How ’bout you?”
“Can’t complain. Tell you what I’d love right now, though. A tall glass of your sweet tea. Lots of ice.” He dropped into the chair beside her.
Annelise gaped at him. Cowboy was one smooth operator.
“Comin’ right up. How ’bout you, sweetheart? You want some tea?”
“Yes. That would be wonderful. Unsweetened, please. And I’d prefer to drink it without company.” She shot Cash a get-lost look. He simply smiled back.
Sally’s gaze shifted between the two of them. When Cash made no move to change tables, she asked, “Need a minute to look at the menu?”
“No. I’d like your house salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side.”
“That’s gonna be your lunch?” Cash scowled. “That’s all you’re getting?”
Annelise sat up straighter. “I hate to be rude, but I have a lot to do today. I came in for lunch. Not company.”
“Understood.”
Still, he didn’t move.
What was with him? So much for Texans being gentlemen. Anger, an emotion she rarely allowed herself, lapped at her. Mentally counting to ten, she turned her attention to Sally. “Just the salad, please.”
“That’s not enough,” Cash said.
“Who are you? The lunch patrol?”
“You’d dang well be eating better if I was. I’d order a nice steak, some hand-cut fries, and a big old piece of Ms. Sally’s apple pie à la mode for you.”
“For lunch?”
“Darn tootin’.”
“I’ll stick with my salad, thanks.”
When their waitress headed off, Cash said, “You’re sure more hospitable with her than you are with me.”
She shrugged. “Like I said, you can move to another table if you’d like.”
His gaze traveled past her, and he stood suddenly. “Excuse me.”
More than a little disappointed, she turned in her chair and watched him cross the room, his stride easy. Despite what she’d said, a traitorous part of her had actually hoped he’d stay.
He walked over to where an older woman struggled to slide her chair from the table. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he reached out to her. “Can I help?”
With a sigh, the woman laid a shaky hand in his. “This getting old isn’t for sissies.” Standing, she said, “You’re a good boy, Cash Hardeman. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about the snake you and Brawley Odell put in my desk.”
He picked up her purse and carried it with him as he walked her slowly toward the door. “You’ve got a memory like an elephant, Mrs. Sandburg.”
“And don’t you forget it.” At the door, she called out, “Sally, I left the check on the table. That pie of yours was as good as ever.”
“See you next week,” Sally answered.
“You bet.” She patted Cash’s cheek. “I can manage from here. Tell your mother hello for me when she and your dad get home.”
“Will do.” He waited till she started down the walk and then returned to Annelise’s table.
Something about the easy candidness of this Texas cowboy tugged at her. His kindness touched her heart. But she needed to stay focused on the reason she’d come.
“So.” He reached for the tea Sally slid him and took a long drink of the cool, soothing liquid. Setting it down, he asked, “Where were we?”
She raised her chin a notch. “I’d just told you that you could move if you didn’t like my company.”
“Right.” He grinned. “I like it fine, thanks. You have a name?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “But you’re not willing to share.” He shot out a hand toward her. “I’m Cash. Cash Hardeman.”
“I heard.” She hesitated, then sighed and extended her own hand. “Hello, Cash. I’m Annelise.”
“Nice to meet you, Annelise. You just get that bike?” He nodded toward the street. “Must’ve paid through the teeth for it.”
“My guilty pleasure.” She smiled. The bike represented her first rebellion—her first step toward independence. “I’ve had it for almost a year now. Some friends wanted to do the fall leaf tour on motorcycles. One of them took me to a Hanniford grocery store parking lot after hours and taught me how to ride. Then he helped me pick out a bike. My father about had a conniption.”
Cash laughed. “I can imagine.”
“Why?”
“Big bike for a wom—anybody to handle.”
“Oh, good save.” She laughed and shook her head. “You’re fast.”
“You’d better believe it.” He studied her a minute. “The fall leaf tour? So you’re from New England, Annelise?”
Her eyes shuttered. She’d screwed up. “No. I was there visiting.” She almost choked on the lie, but she had no choice. His expression said he wasn’t buying it. Well, too bad. Once she left this café, she’d never see Cash Hardeman again. A chance meeting. That’s all this was. It made no difference whether or not he believed her.
“You ride a lot?” he asked.
“Unfortunately, no. I took the bike out for two weekends last fall and it’s been parked ever since. Till this trip.”
“Too bad.” He swiped at the water ring on the table.
Her eyes widened. Through the front window, she watched the cowboy’s mud-brown dog sail through the air and scramble into the old car.
“Cash?”
“Hmmm?”
She pointed toward the window. “That big, hairy dog of yours just executed the best impersonation of Superman I’ve ever witnessed.”
“Huh?”
“The animal may or may not be able to leap tall buildings, but he sure managed to clear the door of that big old monstrosity you’re driving. Right now, he’s working his way through the groceries in the backseat.”
“Oh, brother!” Cash jumped up and ran outside to salvage what he could.
She watched him go and stabbed a forkful of lettuce, wishing the salad would morph into that juicy steak he’d suggested. Oh, well, she sighed. Some things weren’t meant to be.
* * *
Two steps out the door, the heat sucker-punched Cash. And instead of sitting inside drinking iced tea with Ms. Ride-into-town-on-a-Harley, he was heading out to deal with his scoundrel of a dog.
“Staubach! What in the hell am I supposed to tell Rosie about her groceries, huh? Shame on you!” he scolded.
And shame on me, he thought, for leaving the dog alone. Still…Annelise was some looker. All that black hair and those intense, ice-blue eyes. And the body. Whoa, boy!
Okay, she was about as friendly as a mama bear with week-old cubs. But if they’d been able to finish their lunch together, he might have been able to change that.
She hadn’t given him a last name. What was that beautiful thing hiding? Or, maybe, she really, truly hadn’t wanted to sit with him. Didn’t want to exchange names.
Her voice held a hint of an accent. New England definitely, despite what she’d said. Maybe Boston? Well, whatever. The voice was hot. Silk. And though she had started off sounding totally teed off, he’d heard amusement and a sense of humor creep in.
He tossed the now nearly empty sack of groceries into the trunk. When he looked up, he saw Annelise at the counter, paying for her lunch. Might as well run the ad over to Mel in time for tomorrow’s edition. Looked like he’d struck out with the tempting Ms. Cool Eyes. Time to pack up his bat and ball. Game over.
No doubt she planned to hop on that hog and ride out of Maverick Junction without a backward glance. Too bad. He’d have liked more time with her. Time to dig a little deeper. Unless he was mistaken, and he rarely was, there was more to Annelise than met the eye. She might ride a Harley and wear leather, but everything else about her screamed class and money, pampering and top-notch schooling.
Her hands were manicured to within an inch of their lives. The diamonds that winked at her ears could feed a small third-world country. Yeah, the lady had been indulged.
Maybe he had been, too, but to a far lesser degree.
His gaze landed on the Caddy, and he ran a hand over the hood. God, he loved this thing. He had a lot to thank the old man for. And one very good reason—no, make that two—for being royally irritated with his grandpa. But he wasn’t about to travel that road right now.
Reaching under the front seat, he found the folder with the newspaper ad he’d put together last night. Time to hire some help. As much as the old guy would fight him about it, Hank, whom he’d more or less inherited from Gramps along with the Caddy, couldn’t handle the responsibility of the barn area alone anymore.
“Come on, Staubach.” The dog’s ears perked up, and he came to heel. Cash took another look at the dusty black-and-chrome Harley, and his stomach knotted in lust. Both the bike and its rider were double-take worthy.
Black bike, black helmet, black shades, black leathers and shirt. One cool lady. One heck of an attitude.
And that mouth. Oh, yeah. He’d give up a Monday-night football game or two for a taste of that.
Chapter Two
Standing at the chipped and cracked counter, Annelise took her time paying Sally before carefully tucking her change in her wallet. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Cash deal with his dog. She felt bad—for the dog. The poor creature looked crestfallen. The cowboy? He deserved what he got.
She chastised herself. That was uncalled for. She didn’t know him, didn’t have a clue what might be going on in his life. Her own was a disaster. Maybe his was, too. After all, why would anyone drive a vehicle like that unless he was really down and out? The thing was as old as Methuselah and practically as long as one of those semis she’d passed on the highway.
For all she knew, those groceries the dog had wolfed down were all the food Cash would have for the week. Maybe he’d go hungry.
No. She squinted through the tinted window. His boots, though battered and well-worn, had cost a pretty penny. His teeth, straight and white, had been well cared for, his haircut expensive.
He might pretend to be all down-home and simple, but she had a feeling this cowboy did all right for himself.
Pretense. She shook her head. She could certainly relate to that. How often did she hide her own emotions, her true feelings, behind a mask of sociability? For her, the question really boiled down to which Annelise was real—and which was a façade?
She swung open the restaurant’s door and ran headlong into the wall of heat. The sun, almost directly overhead, beat down mercilessly. The wind whipped up and drove a small dust devil down the middle of the street.
She was a long way from home.
“’Bye now,” Sally called out. “You come back.”
Annelise stopped. If she planned on staying, she’d need to eat—and she certainly was no cook. Besides, Sally might turn out to be useful. She could be a good source of information. “I believe I will. Thank you.”
As she stepped out onto the sidewalk, she took a minute to study the street and the shops that lined up shoulder-to-shoulder along its length. Mirage-like, the air shimmered in the heat.
Someone had made an effort to pretty up the town. Every ten feet or so, a pot of geraniums struggled to bloom in the oppressive Texas summer. Small American flags sprouted from each pot, no doubt in honor of the fast-approaching Fourth of July holiday.
A bakery three doors down had hung an awning of pastel pink and green stripes. Wind chimes hung from it and tinkled as a light breeze kicked up. A secondhand store with a huge banner in its window boasting twenty percent off everything sat across the street.
The town wasn’t much to look at. Maverick Junction would never make a list of tourist destinations or be considered fashionable, but glancing up and down the street again, she decided the place had heart. The people who lived here, who called this town home, had tried to make it pretty. They cared.
And Sally had asked her to come back. Maybe it was something she said to all her customers, an off-hand comment. But to Annelise, it meant something. Sally didn’t know who Annelise’s father was or who her grandfather and great-grandfather were. Used to being fawned over because of her name, because of her family, Sally’s casually given invitation felt genuine.
She hurried over to her Harley and pulled a map out of her saddlebag. An old wooden bench rested beneath the bakery’s awning, and she sat down on it. Opening the map to Texas, she found Maverick Junction, traced her finger along the thin yellow line till she touched the tiny speck that marked her destination. She’d traced this path before, but needed to reassure herself.
Yes, this would work. She was about forty, fifty miles away. Not too far, not too close. If she simply showed up in Lone Tree, she risked someone recognizing her, realizing who she was, and putting two and two together before she had everything worked out. Her plan would blow up in her face.
It was one thing to sit at her desk in Boston making up an itinerary, plotting the course she’d take to uncover family secrets that would save Grandpa’s life. Quite another now that she was actually here.
She’d wait to hear from Ron and do a little undercover work of her own before announcing herself. A week or two, maybe less, and she should know if her great-aunt still lived in the area. If she, indeed, had a great-aunt.
Once she tracked her down…Well, she’d play that part by ear.
The trip had been far more grueling than she’d imagined. Staying in Maverick Junction would let her get her feet under her and decide how to proceed. She assured herself that the decision, made in Boston, had nothing whatsoever to do with the green-eyed cowboy and his day-old stubble shadowing that strong, square jaw. Nothing to do with the deep dimples that winked when he smiled and made her fingers itch to touch them.
But this was a small town and strangers created curiosity. Since she seriously doubted she’d be met with open arms by her long-missing relative, she wanted to keep her mission quiet as long as possible.
If she intended to stay here, she’d need a reason. A reason the townsfolk would buy. She needed to think about that. Thank God, she had a place to stay. During her time on the road, she’d learned a few things about herself. And one of those truths was that she needed a nest, a place to come home to at the end of each day. If Maverick Junction was going to be home for a bit, she’d be glad to have a decent place. She’d checked the Internet on the off-chance Maverick Junction boasted a motel. They didn’t. But she’d found an apartment listed that would do fine. Nothing fancy, but totally livable—if the ad could be trusted.
Problem was, she didn’t have a clue how to find the place she’d rented. In a town this small, how hard could it be? Still…Her eyes came to rest on the storefront on the other side of the street. The Maverick Junction Daily. The local newspaper. Surely someone in there could give her directions.
Delighted excitement raced along her spine. Twenty-six years old, and she’d never had her own home. Even her bedroom had been decorated by her mother’s designer without her input while she’d been away on a business trip, for heaven’s sake. Very school-girlish, nothing about it said grown woman. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a place of her own, if only for a short time?
And maybe, just maybe, she could pick up a temporary job to serve as a cover. A reason to stay put here in town for a bit. Wouldn’t the paper have classifieds? A jobs wanted section?
As she passed her Harley, she ran a hand over it, caressed it. Buying the big machine had been the wildest thing she’d ever done. And this trip, despite the reason for it, was giving her no end of pleasure. The freedom of heading her motorcycle down the highway, the sun on her face. A few times she’d really thrown caution to the wind and left her helmet buckled to the sissy bar, had gloried in the sheer joy of the wind blowing through her hair.
Riding the Harley topped her list of sinful pleasures. She doubted even the best sex could trump it. And how long had it been since she’d even had a shot at that? She grimaced. The question didn’t deserve an answer. It would only depress her.
Now, she planned to take an even bigger step.
She pushed open the door to the newspaper, and an overhead bell tinkled cheerfully. Cash Hardeman stood at the counter. The man sure did fill out a pair of jeans. She sucked in her breath and fought the impulse to head back out the door.
Cash looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, hello, darlin’. Miss me already?”
She rolled her eyes. “In your dreams…darlin’.”
He laughed, and the sound swept over her, caused her stomach to do an erratic loop-de-loop. Her hand slid over it, rubbed.
Cash’s eyes followed her movement. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She licked suddenly dry lips. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Behind the counter a seriously handsome blond about the same age as Cash said, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“I’m in no hurry,” she assured him.
“Melvin, this here’s Annelise,” Cash drawled. “Rode into town on a hog so pretty it’d make you cry.”
Mel’s interest piqued. “Really?”
When she simply nodded, he turned his attention back to Cash. “This’ll run tomorrow through the end of the week.”
“Great. Hopefully, I’ll find somebody to take the load off Hank. His seventieth birthday’s coming up in a couple months, and the barn and horses are too much for him.”
“He know you’re hiring somebody to help?”
Cash shook his head. “Nope. I figure once it’s a done deal, he’ll have to suck it up and go with it.”
“The old ‘It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission’?”
“Yeah, guess so. Damn it, the ranch is mine.”
“For now,” Mel muttered.
“Don’t even go there,” Cash warned. “Bottom line, I should be able to do whatever I want. I sure shouldn’t have to ask the old codger if it’s okay to hire a new ranch hand.”
Annelise didn’t even stop to think. “Don’t bother with the ad. I’ll take the job.”
The instant the words left her mouth, she wondered who had taken over her body. Me? A ranch hand? She’d never, ever done any physical labor. She’d never worked anywhere but the family business. This was so far outside her comfort zone she couldn’t even see the shadows of a boundary.
At the same time she berated herself, another part of her brain patted her on the back, saying, ‘Way to go.’ Wasn’t this part of why she’d made the trip? Hadn’t she hoped to find herself along with Grandfather’s sister? Unhappy with her life, she wanted something more. Something with meaning. And to find that, she had to fight against the life she’d always known.
Both men looked at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted wings.
“You want to come work for me?” Cash asked.
“Yes.” Her breath caught in her lungs. “Yes, I do.”
“You have a résumé?”
She bit her lip. Oh, boy. She had no résumé. No experience—none that she could share with him. And she would not, absolutely would not give Cowboy her last name. But, shoot, now that she’d opened her mouth, she realized she really, really wanted to do this.
She had to do this. Maybe she could work around it.
“I know I don’t look like your typical ranch hand applicant.”
His lips turned up in a grin. “I’m so glad you pointed that out to me.”
“No need to get all snotty about it.”
He glanced from her to Mel, who gave him a you’re-on-your-own-here look.
“I know horses. I’ve been around them all my life. I can and will do whatever the job requires.” She almost added please, but stopped herself. She refused to beg.
“I didn’t know you were planning to stay here in town.”
She shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”
“Do you have a place to stay?”
It took all of her finishing-school lessons to keep from squirming. “Yes. That’s why I stopped in here. I rented an apartment over the Internet and hoped Melvin could tell me how to get there.”
Mel flushed. “I think I can help you with that.”
“Forget it.” Cash held up his hand. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to stay with a stranger?”
“I won’t be. I’ll have my own apartment.”
“In a stranger’s house.”
“You’re a stranger,” she reminded him.
“Nah. We broke bread together.”
She opened her mouth, but he stopped her. “I know where you can bunk.”
“I won’t stay with you.”
“Sugar, you make that sound like a challenge.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“We’ll put that on the back burner for now. Actually, what I have in mind is Mrs. Willis’s upstairs apartment. It’s empty.” He turned back to Mel. “We done here?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Come on then, Annelise, and I’ll take you over to meet her. Mel, why don’t you give Dottie a quick buzz and tell her we’re coming?”
“Dorothy Willis?” Annelise asked.
“Yeah.” Cash hesitated. “You know her?”
“I rented her apartment.”
“Well, what do you know. Guess you won’t be with a stranger after all. Dottie’s a good woman.” He took her arm and started for the door. “I’ll run you over to her place. Mel, give her a call. Let her know we’re on our way.”
“Sure. Should I cancel your ad?” Mel asked.
Cash ran his gaze up and down Annelise. “Yeah. Position’s filled.”
Annelise resisted the urge to give in to a happy dance.
She insiste. . .
You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Annelise Montjoy motored her Harley along what appeared to be the town’s main street. This was Maverick Junction?
A blue Cadillac, surely old enough to be in a museum, was parked nose-in to the curb. An incredibly ugly dog sat in the front seat.
Thank God, this, the final destination of her cross-country trip from Boston, was temporary. It looked like the kind of place you ran away from, not toward. If luck was on her side, she’d be out of here in a couple of weeks at the most.
And then a store door opened and her breath caught. Go, Texas! Look at that cowboy. So different from any of the men in her life. So…intriguing. She slowed to nearly a standstill and watched as he swiped an arm across his forehead, then dumped a grocery bag in the backseat of the old Caddy.
Cracking open a bottle of water, he turned his head in her direction. Her breath hitched as his gaze ran lazily over her, her bike. Then he snagged a Styrofoam cup from inside his car and filled it before setting it on the blistering pavement for the dog waiting patiently beside him.
Leaning against the faded fender, he thumbed back his battered Stetson and chugged the rest of the water. Twisting the cap back on, he tossed the bottle into the recycling bin beside the grocer’s door.
Annelise pulled her bike into a parking space across the street, deliberately turning her back on the stranger. While his clothes might have been stereotypical cowboy—worn jeans, a faded T-shirt, cowboy boots, and hat—he took everything from simmer to boiling point. The jeans hugged long legs, while the shirt stretched taut across his muscled chest. There was something very alluring about him and that surprised her. He wasn’t the kind of man she was usually drawn to.
He shouldn’t appeal to her.
He did.
Not so much as a breeze stirred. The flag on the post office hung limp, and the cheerful red, white, and blue balloons someone had hung outside a beauty salon drooped listlessly.
Unable to stop herself, she peeked in the bike’s rearview mirror. Cowboy was bent over, talking to the dog. Quite a view, but she wasn’t here to admire a fine jean-clad butt. She needed something cold to drink and something light to eat. Then she’d go in search of Dottie Willis and the apartment she’d rented over the Internet. Maverick Junction, Texas. Annelise wished she was driving through, wished she could view it as simply a spot on the map where she’d stopped for lunch one summer day.
Well, she’d just have to work fast.
But before she’d even taken two steps, her cell rang. She checked caller ID, blew out a huge sigh, and dutifully answered.
“Annelise, where are you? When are you coming home?” Her mother’s voice sounded strained.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Are you and Dad okay?”
“We’re fine.”
“Grandpa?”
“He’s had a good day. A good week, actually.” Her mother hesitated. “He misses you.”
“I miss him, too.”
“Then come home.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re being selfish.”
“No, I’m not. I’m trying to help while the rest of you stand by and do nothing.”
“We’re respecting Vincent’s wishes.”
Her grandfather, her strong, always in control grandfather, had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. After aggressive treatment by the country’s best doctors, Vincent Montjoy was in remission. But the prognosis wasn’t good. Her grandfather needed a bone marrow transplant, and none of the family matched.
And then, Annelise’s whole world had flipped upside down—again. There was hope. It turned out he might have a half sister. One who could carry the life-saving marrow match. One he’d adamantly forbidden anyone to track down.
Well, she would.
And that’s why she was in Maverick Junction, Texas. Why she’d ridden her Harley here from Boston.
Her first stop had been at a sorority sister’s whose husband was a whiz with both computers and genealogy. If anyone could ferret out the information she needed, it would be him. By the time she’d left the next morning, Ron had already been knee-deep in research for her.
But she hadn’t taken into account the physical toll of riding the heavy motorcycle a couple thousand miles. By the time she’d been on the bike for an eight-hour stretch, her butt and legs ached. Sharing the highway with semis, hour after hour, alone, was no picnic.
“Annelise Elizabeth Katherine Montjoy, you will get on a plane today and come home. We’ll arrange transport for that motorcycle of yours.”
“Mom—”
“Not another word, honey. Tell me where you are, and I’ll phone you back once your travel arrangements are made. Silas will pick you up at the airport.”
“No.”
Her mother sighed. “You’re sure you’re safe? Nobody—”
“I’m fine, Mother. Believe me. I’m right where I need to be.” With that, she hung up.
Guilt nagged at her. When you had as much money as her family, the threat of kidnapping always hung over you. For as long as she could remember, she’d had her own bodyguards. Which equaled no privacy. Two muscle-bound men tagging along had turned more than one date into a fiasco.
But she couldn’t let her parents or her grandfather worry. She’d call her cousin. Later. Right now, she was thirsty. She headed for the café.
* * *
Seated toward the back of Sally’s Place, Annelise heard the door open and close. The bell overhead jingled as outside heat rushed in. Without even looking, she knew who’d blown in with it. Well, he was no concern of hers. In all fairness, she doubted there was anywhere else to eat lunch in this one-pony town.
Annelise went back to studying the menu. Chili, country-fried steak, burritos, enchiladas, and just about anything that could be deep-fried.
A pair of dusty boots stopped at her table. She lifted her head and looked straight into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. For an instant, all sense left her; speech deserted her.
“Seems there’re no tables left,” Cowboy said. “Mind if I sit with you?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled out a chair.
She blinked, sanity returning. Her gaze swept the wealth of unoccupied tables. “No empty tables?”
“Well—” He held out his hands, palms up.
Up close, Cowboy was wicked handsome. If she wasn’t dead set on settling in today so she could head over to Lone Tree tomorrow— “Actually, I’m afraid I do mind.”
He cocked his head, tipped back his cowboy hat. “Not very neighborly.”
“Good thing I’m not your neighbor, then.”
“Ouch.” He grimaced. “I don’t bite, and I’ve had all my shots.”
Sadly, she shook her head. “I suppose someone told you that line was cute.”
“Nope.” He looked at the chair, then back at her.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a lot on my mind, and I really don’t want company.”
“Okay, let’s head at it from a different direction. I do. Need company, that is. I’ve been out on the ranch with nothing but surly bulls and even meaner cowhands for way too long. Sure would be a pleasure to sit across from you for a few minutes. I won’t hold you up. Honest. When you’re ready to go, you go.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are all Texans this persistent?”
He narrowed his eyes in consideration. “We might be. Guess that’s why we lost so many good men at the Alamo. Texans hate to throw in the towel. Never can tell when things might start going your way.”
Despite herself, Annelise laughed. She hadn’t expected such a rough-and-tumble-looking cowboy to be so optimistic.
The owner chose that moment to wander over. “Hey, Cash, ain’t seen you in a while.”
“Been busy breaking in a couple new horses and doing some branding. So, how’s my favorite gal, Sally?”
“My feet hurt, and my cook’s throwin’ a tantrum. Other than that, all’s good.” Sally pushed at frizzy blond hair and snapped her gum. “How ’bout you?”
“Can’t complain. Tell you what I’d love right now, though. A tall glass of your sweet tea. Lots of ice.” He dropped into the chair beside her.
Annelise gaped at him. Cowboy was one smooth operator.
“Comin’ right up. How ’bout you, sweetheart? You want some tea?”
“Yes. That would be wonderful. Unsweetened, please. And I’d prefer to drink it without company.” She shot Cash a get-lost look. He simply smiled back.
Sally’s gaze shifted between the two of them. When Cash made no move to change tables, she asked, “Need a minute to look at the menu?”
“No. I’d like your house salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side.”
“That’s gonna be your lunch?” Cash scowled. “That’s all you’re getting?”
Annelise sat up straighter. “I hate to be rude, but I have a lot to do today. I came in for lunch. Not company.”
“Understood.”
Still, he didn’t move.
What was with him? So much for Texans being gentlemen. Anger, an emotion she rarely allowed herself, lapped at her. Mentally counting to ten, she turned her attention to Sally. “Just the salad, please.”
“That’s not enough,” Cash said.
“Who are you? The lunch patrol?”
“You’d dang well be eating better if I was. I’d order a nice steak, some hand-cut fries, and a big old piece of Ms. Sally’s apple pie à la mode for you.”
“For lunch?”
“Darn tootin’.”
“I’ll stick with my salad, thanks.”
When their waitress headed off, Cash said, “You’re sure more hospitable with her than you are with me.”
She shrugged. “Like I said, you can move to another table if you’d like.”
His gaze traveled past her, and he stood suddenly. “Excuse me.”
More than a little disappointed, she turned in her chair and watched him cross the room, his stride easy. Despite what she’d said, a traitorous part of her had actually hoped he’d stay.
He walked over to where an older woman struggled to slide her chair from the table. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he reached out to her. “Can I help?”
With a sigh, the woman laid a shaky hand in his. “This getting old isn’t for sissies.” Standing, she said, “You’re a good boy, Cash Hardeman. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about the snake you and Brawley Odell put in my desk.”
He picked up her purse and carried it with him as he walked her slowly toward the door. “You’ve got a memory like an elephant, Mrs. Sandburg.”
“And don’t you forget it.” At the door, she called out, “Sally, I left the check on the table. That pie of yours was as good as ever.”
“See you next week,” Sally answered.
“You bet.” She patted Cash’s cheek. “I can manage from here. Tell your mother hello for me when she and your dad get home.”
“Will do.” He waited till she started down the walk and then returned to Annelise’s table.
Something about the easy candidness of this Texas cowboy tugged at her. His kindness touched her heart. But she needed to stay focused on the reason she’d come.
“So.” He reached for the tea Sally slid him and took a long drink of the cool, soothing liquid. Setting it down, he asked, “Where were we?”
She raised her chin a notch. “I’d just told you that you could move if you didn’t like my company.”
“Right.” He grinned. “I like it fine, thanks. You have a name?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “But you’re not willing to share.” He shot out a hand toward her. “I’m Cash. Cash Hardeman.”
“I heard.” She hesitated, then sighed and extended her own hand. “Hello, Cash. I’m Annelise.”
“Nice to meet you, Annelise. You just get that bike?” He nodded toward the street. “Must’ve paid through the teeth for it.”
“My guilty pleasure.” She smiled. The bike represented her first rebellion—her first step toward independence. “I’ve had it for almost a year now. Some friends wanted to do the fall leaf tour on motorcycles. One of them took me to a Hanniford grocery store parking lot after hours and taught me how to ride. Then he helped me pick out a bike. My father about had a conniption.”
Cash laughed. “I can imagine.”
“Why?”
“Big bike for a wom—anybody to handle.”
“Oh, good save.” She laughed and shook her head. “You’re fast.”
“You’d better believe it.” He studied her a minute. “The fall leaf tour? So you’re from New England, Annelise?”
Her eyes shuttered. She’d screwed up. “No. I was there visiting.” She almost choked on the lie, but she had no choice. His expression said he wasn’t buying it. Well, too bad. Once she left this café, she’d never see Cash Hardeman again. A chance meeting. That’s all this was. It made no difference whether or not he believed her.
“You ride a lot?” he asked.
“Unfortunately, no. I took the bike out for two weekends last fall and it’s been parked ever since. Till this trip.”
“Too bad.” He swiped at the water ring on the table.
Her eyes widened. Through the front window, she watched the cowboy’s mud-brown dog sail through the air and scramble into the old car.
“Cash?”
“Hmmm?”
She pointed toward the window. “That big, hairy dog of yours just executed the best impersonation of Superman I’ve ever witnessed.”
“Huh?”
“The animal may or may not be able to leap tall buildings, but he sure managed to clear the door of that big old monstrosity you’re driving. Right now, he’s working his way through the groceries in the backseat.”
“Oh, brother!” Cash jumped up and ran outside to salvage what he could.
She watched him go and stabbed a forkful of lettuce, wishing the salad would morph into that juicy steak he’d suggested. Oh, well, she sighed. Some things weren’t meant to be.
* * *
Two steps out the door, the heat sucker-punched Cash. And instead of sitting inside drinking iced tea with Ms. Ride-into-town-on-a-Harley, he was heading out to deal with his scoundrel of a dog.
“Staubach! What in the hell am I supposed to tell Rosie about her groceries, huh? Shame on you!” he scolded.
And shame on me, he thought, for leaving the dog alone. Still…Annelise was some looker. All that black hair and those intense, ice-blue eyes. And the body. Whoa, boy!
Okay, she was about as friendly as a mama bear with week-old cubs. But if they’d been able to finish their lunch together, he might have been able to change that.
She hadn’t given him a last name. What was that beautiful thing hiding? Or, maybe, she really, truly hadn’t wanted to sit with him. Didn’t want to exchange names.
Her voice held a hint of an accent. New England definitely, despite what she’d said. Maybe Boston? Well, whatever. The voice was hot. Silk. And though she had started off sounding totally teed off, he’d heard amusement and a sense of humor creep in.
He tossed the now nearly empty sack of groceries into the trunk. When he looked up, he saw Annelise at the counter, paying for her lunch. Might as well run the ad over to Mel in time for tomorrow’s edition. Looked like he’d struck out with the tempting Ms. Cool Eyes. Time to pack up his bat and ball. Game over.
No doubt she planned to hop on that hog and ride out of Maverick Junction without a backward glance. Too bad. He’d have liked more time with her. Time to dig a little deeper. Unless he was mistaken, and he rarely was, there was more to Annelise than met the eye. She might ride a Harley and wear leather, but everything else about her screamed class and money, pampering and top-notch schooling.
Her hands were manicured to within an inch of their lives. The diamonds that winked at her ears could feed a small third-world country. Yeah, the lady had been indulged.
Maybe he had been, too, but to a far lesser degree.
His gaze landed on the Caddy, and he ran a hand over the hood. God, he loved this thing. He had a lot to thank the old man for. And one very good reason—no, make that two—for being royally irritated with his grandpa. But he wasn’t about to travel that road right now.
Reaching under the front seat, he found the folder with the newspaper ad he’d put together last night. Time to hire some help. As much as the old guy would fight him about it, Hank, whom he’d more or less inherited from Gramps along with the Caddy, couldn’t handle the responsibility of the barn area alone anymore.
“Come on, Staubach.” The dog’s ears perked up, and he came to heel. Cash took another look at the dusty black-and-chrome Harley, and his stomach knotted in lust. Both the bike and its rider were double-take worthy.
Black bike, black helmet, black shades, black leathers and shirt. One cool lady. One heck of an attitude.
And that mouth. Oh, yeah. He’d give up a Monday-night football game or two for a taste of that.
Chapter Two
Standing at the chipped and cracked counter, Annelise took her time paying Sally before carefully tucking her change in her wallet. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Cash deal with his dog. She felt bad—for the dog. The poor creature looked crestfallen. The cowboy? He deserved what he got.
She chastised herself. That was uncalled for. She didn’t know him, didn’t have a clue what might be going on in his life. Her own was a disaster. Maybe his was, too. After all, why would anyone drive a vehicle like that unless he was really down and out? The thing was as old as Methuselah and practically as long as one of those semis she’d passed on the highway.
For all she knew, those groceries the dog had wolfed down were all the food Cash would have for the week. Maybe he’d go hungry.
No. She squinted through the tinted window. His boots, though battered and well-worn, had cost a pretty penny. His teeth, straight and white, had been well cared for, his haircut expensive.
He might pretend to be all down-home and simple, but she had a feeling this cowboy did all right for himself.
Pretense. She shook her head. She could certainly relate to that. How often did she hide her own emotions, her true feelings, behind a mask of sociability? For her, the question really boiled down to which Annelise was real—and which was a façade?
She swung open the restaurant’s door and ran headlong into the wall of heat. The sun, almost directly overhead, beat down mercilessly. The wind whipped up and drove a small dust devil down the middle of the street.
She was a long way from home.
“’Bye now,” Sally called out. “You come back.”
Annelise stopped. If she planned on staying, she’d need to eat—and she certainly was no cook. Besides, Sally might turn out to be useful. She could be a good source of information. “I believe I will. Thank you.”
As she stepped out onto the sidewalk, she took a minute to study the street and the shops that lined up shoulder-to-shoulder along its length. Mirage-like, the air shimmered in the heat.
Someone had made an effort to pretty up the town. Every ten feet or so, a pot of geraniums struggled to bloom in the oppressive Texas summer. Small American flags sprouted from each pot, no doubt in honor of the fast-approaching Fourth of July holiday.
A bakery three doors down had hung an awning of pastel pink and green stripes. Wind chimes hung from it and tinkled as a light breeze kicked up. A secondhand store with a huge banner in its window boasting twenty percent off everything sat across the street.
The town wasn’t much to look at. Maverick Junction would never make a list of tourist destinations or be considered fashionable, but glancing up and down the street again, she decided the place had heart. The people who lived here, who called this town home, had tried to make it pretty. They cared.
And Sally had asked her to come back. Maybe it was something she said to all her customers, an off-hand comment. But to Annelise, it meant something. Sally didn’t know who Annelise’s father was or who her grandfather and great-grandfather were. Used to being fawned over because of her name, because of her family, Sally’s casually given invitation felt genuine.
She hurried over to her Harley and pulled a map out of her saddlebag. An old wooden bench rested beneath the bakery’s awning, and she sat down on it. Opening the map to Texas, she found Maverick Junction, traced her finger along the thin yellow line till she touched the tiny speck that marked her destination. She’d traced this path before, but needed to reassure herself.
Yes, this would work. She was about forty, fifty miles away. Not too far, not too close. If she simply showed up in Lone Tree, she risked someone recognizing her, realizing who she was, and putting two and two together before she had everything worked out. Her plan would blow up in her face.
It was one thing to sit at her desk in Boston making up an itinerary, plotting the course she’d take to uncover family secrets that would save Grandpa’s life. Quite another now that she was actually here.
She’d wait to hear from Ron and do a little undercover work of her own before announcing herself. A week or two, maybe less, and she should know if her great-aunt still lived in the area. If she, indeed, had a great-aunt.
Once she tracked her down…Well, she’d play that part by ear.
The trip had been far more grueling than she’d imagined. Staying in Maverick Junction would let her get her feet under her and decide how to proceed. She assured herself that the decision, made in Boston, had nothing whatsoever to do with the green-eyed cowboy and his day-old stubble shadowing that strong, square jaw. Nothing to do with the deep dimples that winked when he smiled and made her fingers itch to touch them.
But this was a small town and strangers created curiosity. Since she seriously doubted she’d be met with open arms by her long-missing relative, she wanted to keep her mission quiet as long as possible.
If she intended to stay here, she’d need a reason. A reason the townsfolk would buy. She needed to think about that. Thank God, she had a place to stay. During her time on the road, she’d learned a few things about herself. And one of those truths was that she needed a nest, a place to come home to at the end of each day. If Maverick Junction was going to be home for a bit, she’d be glad to have a decent place. She’d checked the Internet on the off-chance Maverick Junction boasted a motel. They didn’t. But she’d found an apartment listed that would do fine. Nothing fancy, but totally livable—if the ad could be trusted.
Problem was, she didn’t have a clue how to find the place she’d rented. In a town this small, how hard could it be? Still…Her eyes came to rest on the storefront on the other side of the street. The Maverick Junction Daily. The local newspaper. Surely someone in there could give her directions.
Delighted excitement raced along her spine. Twenty-six years old, and she’d never had her own home. Even her bedroom had been decorated by her mother’s designer without her input while she’d been away on a business trip, for heaven’s sake. Very school-girlish, nothing about it said grown woman. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a place of her own, if only for a short time?
And maybe, just maybe, she could pick up a temporary job to serve as a cover. A reason to stay put here in town for a bit. Wouldn’t the paper have classifieds? A jobs wanted section?
As she passed her Harley, she ran a hand over it, caressed it. Buying the big machine had been the wildest thing she’d ever done. And this trip, despite the reason for it, was giving her no end of pleasure. The freedom of heading her motorcycle down the highway, the sun on her face. A few times she’d really thrown caution to the wind and left her helmet buckled to the sissy bar, had gloried in the sheer joy of the wind blowing through her hair.
Riding the Harley topped her list of sinful pleasures. She doubted even the best sex could trump it. And how long had it been since she’d even had a shot at that? She grimaced. The question didn’t deserve an answer. It would only depress her.
Now, she planned to take an even bigger step.
She pushed open the door to the newspaper, and an overhead bell tinkled cheerfully. Cash Hardeman stood at the counter. The man sure did fill out a pair of jeans. She sucked in her breath and fought the impulse to head back out the door.
Cash looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, hello, darlin’. Miss me already?”
She rolled her eyes. “In your dreams…darlin’.”
He laughed, and the sound swept over her, caused her stomach to do an erratic loop-de-loop. Her hand slid over it, rubbed.
Cash’s eyes followed her movement. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She licked suddenly dry lips. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Behind the counter a seriously handsome blond about the same age as Cash said, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“I’m in no hurry,” she assured him.
“Melvin, this here’s Annelise,” Cash drawled. “Rode into town on a hog so pretty it’d make you cry.”
Mel’s interest piqued. “Really?”
When she simply nodded, he turned his attention back to Cash. “This’ll run tomorrow through the end of the week.”
“Great. Hopefully, I’ll find somebody to take the load off Hank. His seventieth birthday’s coming up in a couple months, and the barn and horses are too much for him.”
“He know you’re hiring somebody to help?”
Cash shook his head. “Nope. I figure once it’s a done deal, he’ll have to suck it up and go with it.”
“The old ‘It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission’?”
“Yeah, guess so. Damn it, the ranch is mine.”
“For now,” Mel muttered.
“Don’t even go there,” Cash warned. “Bottom line, I should be able to do whatever I want. I sure shouldn’t have to ask the old codger if it’s okay to hire a new ranch hand.”
Annelise didn’t even stop to think. “Don’t bother with the ad. I’ll take the job.”
The instant the words left her mouth, she wondered who had taken over her body. Me? A ranch hand? She’d never, ever done any physical labor. She’d never worked anywhere but the family business. This was so far outside her comfort zone she couldn’t even see the shadows of a boundary.
At the same time she berated herself, another part of her brain patted her on the back, saying, ‘Way to go.’ Wasn’t this part of why she’d made the trip? Hadn’t she hoped to find herself along with Grandfather’s sister? Unhappy with her life, she wanted something more. Something with meaning. And to find that, she had to fight against the life she’d always known.
Both men looked at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted wings.
“You want to come work for me?” Cash asked.
“Yes.” Her breath caught in her lungs. “Yes, I do.”
“You have a résumé?”
She bit her lip. Oh, boy. She had no résumé. No experience—none that she could share with him. And she would not, absolutely would not give Cowboy her last name. But, shoot, now that she’d opened her mouth, she realized she really, really wanted to do this.
She had to do this. Maybe she could work around it.
“I know I don’t look like your typical ranch hand applicant.”
His lips turned up in a grin. “I’m so glad you pointed that out to me.”
“No need to get all snotty about it.”
He glanced from her to Mel, who gave him a you’re-on-your-own-here look.
“I know horses. I’ve been around them all my life. I can and will do whatever the job requires.” She almost added please, but stopped herself. She refused to beg.
“I didn’t know you were planning to stay here in town.”
She shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”
“Do you have a place to stay?”
It took all of her finishing-school lessons to keep from squirming. “Yes. That’s why I stopped in here. I rented an apartment over the Internet and hoped Melvin could tell me how to get there.”
Mel flushed. “I think I can help you with that.”
“Forget it.” Cash held up his hand. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to stay with a stranger?”
“I won’t be. I’ll have my own apartment.”
“In a stranger’s house.”
“You’re a stranger,” she reminded him.
“Nah. We broke bread together.”
She opened her mouth, but he stopped her. “I know where you can bunk.”
“I won’t stay with you.”
“Sugar, you make that sound like a challenge.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“We’ll put that on the back burner for now. Actually, what I have in mind is Mrs. Willis’s upstairs apartment. It’s empty.” He turned back to Mel. “We done here?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Come on then, Annelise, and I’ll take you over to meet her. Mel, why don’t you give Dottie a quick buzz and tell her we’re coming?”
“Dorothy Willis?” Annelise asked.
“Yeah.” Cash hesitated. “You know her?”
“I rented her apartment.”
“Well, what do you know. Guess you won’t be with a stranger after all. Dottie’s a good woman.” He took her arm and started for the door. “I’ll run you over to her place. Mel, give her a call. Let her know we’re on our way.”
“Sure. Should I cancel your ad?” Mel asked.
Cash ran his gaze up and down Annelise. “Yeah. Position’s filled.”
Annelise resisted the urge to give in to a happy dance.
She insiste. . .
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Somebody Like You
Lynnette Austin
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