She made it sound as if she’d been asked to star on Broadway.
So what would it hurt for him to pretend that she had?
“That’s great, Carly. I hope things work out for you.”
She paused a beat, then tucked a loose blond curl behind her ear. “So you’re not going to fight me about storing Braden’s stuff while he’s gone?”
He hoped that didn’t mean holding off the sale longer than he’d planned, but if he really thought about it, his relationship with his half brother was in far more need of repair than his and Carly’s. And if that meant doing Braden this favor now, then how could he refuse?
“Can you stick around until I find someone else to help me go through the household items?” he asked.
“I’m afraid not. I start tonight, and I have to get back to San Antonio for a wardrobe check this afternoon. It’s a long drive.”
Crap. How was he supposed to go through the house on his own, plus supervise the ranch work—and hold down the fort at Rayburn Energy, as well as Rayburn Enterprises, without help?
Besides, he’d been hoping Carly would agree to go through the household items. It was hard for him to do it. Everything he saw, everything he touched, reminded him of Granny, and...well, it was hard. Damn hard. And Carly would know better than he would what should be kept and what should be tossed or sold.
“I’m going to have to find someone to help,” he said. “And quickly. If they can live in, then all the better.”
A slow grin stretched across Carly’s face, and he was struck by how pretty she was, even without any makeup. She’d always favored her mother, a popular country-and-western music star and who’d retired recently to marry a state politician. But he hadn’t realized how much until now.
“I know someone who’d be perfect—and she’s looking for work.”
“Who?”
“Remember my friend Juliana Bailey?”
Red hair, pigtails. Big brown eyes and a scatter of freckles across her nose. “The one I used to call Bird Legs? What about her?”
“She’s been working in Wexler at an art gallery since graduating from the junior college, but she was laid off recently. Now she’s back in town and waiting tables part-time at Caroline’s Diner. But she needs to find something that pays better. I’m sure she’d do a great job. And maybe, if you were happy with her, it might work into something more permanent—and in the city. I know she’d love to find something outside of Brighton Valley.”
“I wouldn’t want to give her any false hope about working at either Rayburn Energy or Enterprises. I leave the hiring up to the HR department. It makes my life a lot easier if I don’t get involved with the personnel. But I definitely need some temporary help here on the ranch, and I’d be willing to make it well worth her time.”
“You won’t be sorry. Juliana is bright, professional and...well, whatever it is HR departments are looking for in new hires. I’m not sure why that company in Wexler let her go. They’d have to be crazy or going out of business, because she had to be their best employee ever.”
“You don’t have to sing her praises. I’m a little desperate right now.”
“Good. I think she’s working this morning. I don’t have her new number, but you could stop by Caroline’s and talk to her. I know she’s been staying with her mom and grandmother in a small apartment near Town Square, so she’d probably work for room and board and a fair salary.”
Seriously? “You think she’d be interested in a simple offer like that? Even if it’s only temporary?”
“Well, that and the opportunity to at least have a chance at an interview with the HR department at one of your businesses. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
“Okay, I will.”
“Thanks, Jason. You won’t be sorry.”
For some reason, he was sorry already. But he set his mug on the counter and followed Carly out to the yard, catching up to her about six feet from the pickup. “How many boxes are there?”
“Two—one containing some ceramic stuff and another with paperwork. There is also a painting.” She opened the tailgate, then reached for a box. “Here. Can you carry this one into the house?”
Jason took the carton she handed him, although he had half a notion to drop the damn thing on the ground—or take it and dump it off at Braden’s ranch, which was ten miles down the road.
“Have you tried calling him?” Jason asked as he and Carly carried the boxes back into the house.
“Several times, but apparently he doesn’t have cell reception wherever he is.”
“Didn’t you think to ask what he was doing down there?”
“Braden’s not much of a talker.”
That was the truth. And he certainly wasn’t likely to confide in Jason. Hell, they kept each other at arm’s distance as it was. And as much as Jason would like to change that—as much as he now needed to change that—he couldn’t very well build or repair their relationship all by himself.
They deposited the boxes on the kitchen table, then returned for the paintings. He was supposed to be documenting all the stuff in the house so they could get rid of it—not adding more clutter. If he wasn’t so determined to mend his relationships with his siblings, he’d...well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
But damn his father for dying and leaving him with a dysfunctional family and a messed-up estate to complicate his life when he had his own business issues to deal with.
And damn Braden for being so secretive and only making things worse by going MIA when his family needed him most.
Before he could voice any further objections, Carly was behind the wheel of her red Toyota pickup and heading down the road just as dawn broke over the Leaning R.
Now what?
He might as well head into town and get breakfast at Caroline’s. He needed some help, and it appeared that he was going to have to snag Caroline’s newest employee away with a better offer—room, board, a small salary and the hope that something better might be in the cards for her.
He didn’t want to even consider what he’d do if she didn’t accept his offer.
* * *
For a woman who’d once thought she’d left small-town life behind, Juliana Bailey seemed to have returned to Brighton Valley with her tail between her legs. Not that anyone knew that yet.
As far as the small-town rumor mill went, she’d been laid off at her job at an art gallery in nearby Wexler and had moved home to the two-bedroom apartment her mom and grandma shared above the drugstore. She currently slept on the sofa bed and made the short, one-block walk to Caroline’s Diner, where she’d picked up part-time work at a job destined to only last a few more days—at best.
She had a game plan, though. And that was to get out of town before her secret came out. In the meantime, she held her head high and bustled about the diner with her order pad in hand and wearing an oversize apron that matched the yellow gingham café-style curtains in the windows facing the street. She’d always been fashion conscious, but not as of late.
Loose blouses and an apron tied above the waist hid a multitude of sins, namely a growing baby bump, a secret that would be impossible to keep much longer.
Thankfully, no one other than her obstetrician, Dr. Selena Ramirez-Connor, knew that she’d been deceived by a man who’d neglected to tell her he was married. But if she wanted to protect her mom, who happened to be a church secretary, and her grandma, who worked at city hall, from her scandal, she’d have to get out of Brighton Valley quickly.
Trouble was, Juliana had just moved into a nicer place near La Galleria in Wexler, and when she’d decided to leave town, she’d had to use her savings to get out of her lease. So she didn’t have enough left to move to the city, especially since she didn’t have another job lined up yet. And with a baby due in five months...well, she was strapped right now.
As she refilled the coffee of the lone diner at table three, an elderly gentleman with thinning hair, she caught a whiff of greasy sausage swimming in the runny egg yolks on his plate. Her tummy swirled like a mop in a slop bucket, and for a moment she thought she’d have to have to run to the restroom.
She blinked her eyes and swallowed as the brief bout of nausea passed.
For the most part, the morning sickness that had plagued her for nearly six weeks straight had ended. But there were still a few random moments, like this one, when she wasn’t so sure...
“Thanks, hon,” the diner said. “I don’t s’pose you have any of those caramel cinnamon rolls left, do you? Margie said they were made special yesterday, and I was hopin’ to have me another today.”
“I’ll check and see. If they’re gone, I can get you one of the oatmeal spice muffins.”
“Sure, that’ll do.”
Juliana had no more than turned from the table when the bell on the front door jangled, alerting her to a customer’s entrance. She didn’t normally give the arrivals much notice because Margie, the other waitress, was quick to greet the many diners who flocked to Caroline’s for the food as well as the local gossip.
And the news that passed quickly from one person to the next, helped along by Margie, was another reason this was a bad place for Juliana to work if she didn’t want to bring any undue embarrassment upon Mom and Grandma.
But for some reason, Juliana glanced at the doorway now, only to note a stranger. Well, not exactly a stranger, but a face she hadn’t seen in years.
Jason Rayburn—who else could it be?—had grown up and filled out in the manliest way.
He was tall—six foot or more—with dark hair that was stylishly mussed. Even though she’d heard the wealthy exec was staying in Brighton Valley, she hadn’t expected to see him dressed in faded denim and a chambray shirt. It almost made him appear to fit right in, when he was as far from one of the locals as a man could be.
She’d followed his success and found him somewhat intriguing. Actually, the entire Rayburn family was pretty newsworthy around here—including both Carly and Braden. Maybe that’s why folks found them interesting. They had the same father, but they couldn’t be any more different.
She knew Carly and Braden well. Jason, though, was more of a lone wolf. A wealthy and successful one, from what she’d heard.
He’d gone into business with his father right after college. And he’d rarely come back, except for Granny Rayburn’s funeral. But he’d left town nearly as quickly as he’d come in.
He scanned the small diner. When his eyes zeroed in on her, a smile stretched across his handsome face, creating a pair of dimples and sparking a glimmer in his green eyes.
As he sauntered toward her, as lean as a cowboy and as cocky as a man used to staking his claim on just about anything he had a mind to, she nearly dropped the coffee carafe.
“Well,” he said, flashing a boyish grin and sending her heart rate topsy-turvy, “if it isn’t Bird Legs.”
She couldn’t help but return his smile. “If I remember correctly, I threw a rock at you the last time you called me that.”
“Yes, you did. I’d been bad-mouthing my brother, Braden, and you felt the need to stick up for him. And if I recall, you missed me by a mile.”
“That’s true, but I scared your horse.”
“Thankfully, I’m a good rider.”
That he was, although the mare had gotten skittish and Juliana had been sure he was going to get thrown. But she hadn’t liked him picking on Braden, who’d been her friend and sometime riding buddy.
She lifted the glass carafe, which bore more brown stain than coffee. “I’m brewing a new pot. If you’d like to grab a seat, I can pour you a fresh cup.”
“Sounds good. Thanks. Which tables are yours?”
He wanted her to be his waitress? Okay. Why not? She nodded toward the yellow-gingham curtains. “Any of those by the window.”
“All right.”
She retrieved a menu, as well as a fresh pot of coffee, and took them to him. “Here you go.” After upturning the white mug on the table in front of him, she filled it. “Cream or sugar?”
“Just black.”
“Okay. I’ll give you a minute to decide what you’d like, then I’ll come back.”
“Thanks. It won’t take me long.”
She felt his eyes on her back as she returned the carafe to where it belonged. Yet she feared there was more heat radiating from his stare than the coffee warmer.
Margie, who’d worked at the diner for as long as Juliana could remember, sidled up next to her and snatched the carafe labeled decaf. “Isn’t that Jason Rayburn?”
“Yes, it is. I talked to Carly not long ago, and she said he’s staying out at the Leaning R while he’s getting it ready to sell.”
“That’s what I heard.” Margie was up on all the local gossip, whether it was accurate or not. “But he’s grown up since I last seen him, so I hardly recognized him. He doesn’t favor Braden much, does he? But he does have the look of a womanizer.”
“Why do you say that?” Juliana asked.
“Looks too much like his daddy to not be. And you know what they say. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Charles Rayburn had grown up on the Leaning R with his paternal grandparents, but it had been his maternal grandfather who’d paid for his college and who’d set him up in business. At that point, he’d pretty much left Brighton Valley in the dust. Or so they said.
“I’d better get his order.” Juliana stepped away from Margie and made her way back to where Jason sat near the window.
The morning sun cast a glare on the dull brown Formica tabletop, but it had nothing on the sunny smile Jason tossed her way when she asked, “What’ll it be?”
“Huevos rancheros. I haven’t had that in ages.”
“You got it.” But instead of turning and walking away, she took a moment to bask in the glimmer of those meadow-green eyes. What color would a city girl call them?
Enough of that now. She had to get over her fixation on a palette of colors ready to spring to life on a blank canvas. She’d have to postpone her dream of becoming an artist.
And a romance gone bad made any other fantasies out of the question, too. So she returned to the kitchen and placed Jason’s order. As much as she ought to keep her distance, she had a job to do.
“Can I refill your coffee?” she asked when she passed his table a few minutes later.
“Yes, thanks.” He eyed her for a moment, as though assessing her.
Was he considering how much she’d changed? Did he like what he saw? Again, she chastised herself for letting her thoughts veer in that direction, even though it seemed only natural to wonder as his gaze caressed her face, her hair, her eyes.
“Carly told me you were working here,” he said.
“Just a couple days a week. I was laid off at the art gallery in Wexler and plan to find work in Houston. This is just a temporary position to help tide me over until I find something permanent in the city.”
“Well, I’m glad you were working today.”
The way he continued to study her made her wonder if he’d come in just to see her—and not to order breakfast. But she quickly dismissed the idea. “I’m glad I was here, too, Jason. It’s nice to see you, again. How long has it been? Ten years?”
“Something like that.”
She smiled and nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ll check on your breakfast.”
Fortunately, Caroline was just placing his plate on the counter. So Juliana picked it up, along with a couple of warm flour tortillas and a small dish of butter. Then she placed his meal in front of him.
“Did my sister tell you I was staying out at the Leaning R?” he asked.
&nb
sp; “She mentioned it.”
“Did she tell you why?”
“She said you plan to sell the place.” And that she wasn’t any happier about the decision than Braden was. But Juliana knew enough to keep that to herself.
“I also need to inventory everything and get it ready to sell. It’s a huge job, and I need to hire someone to help me. Carly mentioned that you might be interested in the position.”
“That depends.” Juliana definitely needed the extra money.
“If you’re talking about the pay, I’d make it worth your time.”
She placed a hand on her tummy, a movement that was becoming a habit, then let it drop. In truth, she was thinking more about the time it would take for her to get the job done. She only dared spend a few more weeks to a month in the area before her baby grew too big to hide. “What do you have in mind?”
“Can you take a leave of absence from here? I’d need you full-time for about three weeks.”
She wasn’t even working four hours a day as it was, and she suspected Caroline had only offered her the position as a favor to her grandma.
“I’d be willing to pay you a thousand dollars a week,” Jason said.
Her pulse rate shot through the roof, and she struggled to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor. That was more money than she could expect to make anywhere. And it would certainly help her relocate to Houston and give her time to find another position.
“There’s a guest room at the ranch,” he added. “You can either commute each day or stay there, if you’d like. Whatever you’re comfortable doing. But it’s going to take a lot of work and time. Granny was sweet as can be, but she wasn’t very organized.”
Not that Juliana wanted to stay out at the ranch with Jason, but the sooner she got out of her mom’s house and away from downtown Brighton Valley, the better her chances were of keeping her pregnancy secret.
Still, she was torn about accepting the offer. After all, the man’s father had had a reputation for loving and leaving the ladies, which meant Jason might not be honorable, upright or honest. And she’d just gotten out of a relationship with a man like that.
One Night in Weaver... Page 20
