Beauty and the Brit

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Beauty and the Brit Page 6

by Selvig, Lizbeth


  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you ‘happy’ to get my suitcase? Why are you perfectly okay with having two city girls running from trouble invade your house?”

  He laughed without hesitation. “I don’t know any differently, Rio. Before my parents married, my mother and grandmother ran a guesthouse in northern England. When she married, Mum continued with her own version of the same in Kent. I grew up with guests coming in and out all the time. It seems perfectly natural to take in visitors.”

  A very, very slight weight lifted from Rio’s shoulders. He was serious. And although the situation sucked, at the moment her life was as calm and safe as it had been in a while. She made a conscious effort to diffuse her anger.

  “Rio? David?” Bonnie emerged from her room. “What was that you said about no police?”

  Rio’s heart skipped a beat at the pale confusion in her sister’s eyes. Gone was the effervescent excitement. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you ask?” His eyes narrowed.

  “There’s a squad car sitting right out front of your house.”

  Chapter Five

  * * *

  AT THE SIGHT of the black-and-white cruiser, Rio’s first reaction was relief. They’d found Hector and Paul. This whole exercise here at David’s was moot, and she could go back home—or at least back to her neighborhood, start looking for a new place, and get her job back.

  “This might be good news,” she said.

  Bonnie remained sober. “Police are never good news.”

  The attitude saddened Rio. Bonnie had never had run-ins with police. Even so, the place she’d lived all her life had shown her that help only came when something awful happened.

  “I guess we’d better see what he wants,” David said. “No worries. I’m sure Rio’s right.”

  By the time they filed out the front door, the police officer, along with his gun, flashlight, and nightstick, stood frowning at the house.

  “Good morning, Officer.” David extended a hand. “You must be our new chief. We haven’t met yet. I’m David Pitts-Matherson.”

  “Tanner Hewett,” he replied crisply. “I replaced Chief Gunderson six weeks ago.”

  “And how is he doing?”

  Chief Hewett scowled a little impatiently. “I haven’t kept in touch with him, I’m afraid. I’m here on official business, Mr. Pitts-Matherson.”

  Without a blink at the curtness, David nodded. Bonnie stepped closer to Rio, and the fact that her sister still needed her calmed Rio’s rising nervousness.

  “What can I help you with, Chief?” David asked.

  “I’ve been in touch with the Minneapolis PD who alerted me to the presence of one Arionna Montoya and her sister, Bonnie Montoya.” Hewett’s eyes swung slowly to Rio. “Can I assume you are Miss Montoya?”

  She knew plenty of city cops, some wonderful and helpful, others suspicious and tough. This one’s tone raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “Yes, I’m Arionna. This is Bonnie.”

  “Ran into a little trouble in the city, I hear.”

  “My home was set on fire. In some places that would be considered more than a little.”

  She’d learned long ago that using sarcasm to a police officer was unwise no matter what. She walked the line now, but, to her shock, David offered a sidelong smile of support.

  “Have you come with news about the men involved in the fire?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid there’s been no sighting of the accused or Miss Montoya’s brother.”

  Rio gritted her teeth. “The guilty, do you mean?”

  “Miss Montoya, around here nobody is guilty until proven so. I came by to let you know we’re aware of the situation and of why you’re here.” He turned back to David. “You do fully understand what you’ve taken on?”

  “I understand my guests need a place to remain in safety until the men who started the fire in her home are caught.”

  “Miss Montoya, I’ve heard you were involved in a heated altercation with Mr. Black before the fire that may have contributed to him seeking revenge,” Chief Hewett said. “I hope you’ll work to keep your profile low here. Once we find these boys, there’ll be a lot of questions for you as well as for them.”

  She didn’t know how to respond. It sounded more like a threat than a promise of protection.

  “Like, why would we want to do anything else?” Bonnie stepped out of her shadow. “We don’t exactly want them to find us.”

  “Shhh, Bons, it’s fine,” Rio said.

  “We definitely don’t want them to find you first,” Chief Hewett agreed. “This is a quiet place, and I’ll be watching closely to make sure your big-city crime doesn’t find its way to Kennison Falls.”

  Rio’s mouth fell open.

  Her big-city crime? Damn it, she hadn’t even wanted to come here. Her neck hairs bristled again but a light touch on her arm startled her, and she looked into David’s composed features.

  “The town will remain quiet, Chief,” David said. “With your help, of course. Can I assume that if we have any problems we can come directly to you?”

  “Of course. But Miss Montoya, if you do hear from either Mr. Black or your brother, I expect you to contact my office immediately. We don’t want problems escalating.”

  “Of course.” Her mimicked retort came out more mockingly than she intended, and the chief’s eyes pierced her with distrust.

  He opened the door of his patrol car. David smiled pleasantly.

  “Thanks for your time, Chief Hewett,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

  Appreciate? She added brownnosing sycophant to their host’s list of personality traits—this one not his most attractive. Once the cruiser had turned slowly around in the farm’s gravel driveway and rolled far enough down the driveway so its driver couldn’t see them, Bonnie stuck her tongue out.

  “Ass,” Rio muttered under breath.

  “Quite so.” David snorted, equally quietly.

  His agreement surprised her. As did the pleasant expression on his face. Her insides roiled at the injustice of the veiled warnings, and yet David Pitts-Matherson looked as if he’d just shared a beer with a buddy.

  “You seemed to get along with him just fine.”

  “I don’t know him,” he replied. “He strikes me as an arrogant sod, but it seemed wise to avoid antagonizing him while we need his help.”

  Rio backed down, chastened. She’d thought exactly the same thing, and still she’d let her underwear not only bunch but start chafing. She knew better.

  “You’re right,” she mumbled.

  “Rio.” His voice pulled her eyes back to his. “This is a small town. Everyone has his or her own way even though as a rule they’re all pretty friendly. Hewett is new, and he’s trying to look tough. Ignore him.”

  His words didn’t excuse, but his voice held certainty and promise that all was fine. Suddenly, his fitted riding pants and the black leather boot tops rising up the length of his calves seemed tough, protective, and anything but wussy.

  “Thank you,” she managed, still not willing to give up her wariness. “All police are nervous when it comes to gangs. I shouldn’t react to one cop’s skepticism.”

  “But he was a condescending jerk.” Bonnie still watched the dust from the cruiser, her lip curled.

  “He was,” David said. “Let him bluster. At least he’ll be on the lookout for us.”

  True enough. Better a cop with a tough attitude than one who didn’t care at all. Hector was acting like a big-time gang leader even though he was no such thing. Mean, yes, but hardly important. Maybe a rigid hand was exactly what a street punk too cruel for his britches needed.

  “Right, then.” David smiled. “I’m going to change from my riding clothes, and after you unpack let’s go have a look ’round town. We’ll stock the kitchen, and if you’re hungry for lunch, there’s a nice café with excellent food.”

  “All right!” said Bonnie.

  The familiar twist
of resentment clenched in Rio’s stomach. Lunch at a restaurant would mean another bite, beyond grocery shopping, out of her meager savings, or more charity on his part. She wanted neither. Since the fire, she had, maybe, two hundred dollars in her dwindling account, most of which had been earmarked for utilities, groceries, and back-to-school supplies for Bonnie.

  She didn’t need the utility money any longer . . .

  Her throat constricted.

  And she had no idea where Bonnie would even go to school or when she’d start. In Minneapolis school started after Labor Day, five weeks away. Please, God, she thought. Let them be well away from here in five weeks’ time.

  Gravel crunched in the driveway again, and Rio looked up half-expecting to see the chief returning. Instead, a green Ford Focus with a slightly scuffed door pulled toward them, bass thumping from its radio. The driver stopped, rolled down his window, and turned down a blaring rock song.

  “’Lo, Dawson. Thanks for the noise abatement.” David grinned at the good-looking young man who stuck his elbow and head out of the window.

  “No prob. Just dropping her off.”

  David bent his knees and peered into the car. “Hey, Kim. Lesson today?”

  “Yup.” A cheery voice carried to them from the passenger seat. “A show and a Pony Club certification in the next month. Thanks for letting Jackson stay here while we work on everything.”

  Rio had no idea what the conversation meant, but she recognized the awe on her sister’s face as she fixated on the young driver. He looked vaguely familiar, with bright brown, David-colored eyes and wide handsome cheekbones nearly sculpted into adult handsomeness. Dark sable hair cascaded in gentle waves to his shoulders. He gave Bonnie a careless, friendly wave. Rio gave her a tap on the ankle with her toe. “Stop staring,” she whispered.

  Bonnie grinned for the first time in fifteen minutes.

  “Kim, hang on,” David said, as if he’d just had a brilliant idea. “Jill’s not here yet. Have you got a moment? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  “Sure.”

  The passenger door opened, and a blond head appeared on the other side of the car. The girl looked to be about Bonnie’s age, but she was the bright, sweet-and-lovely, pretty counterpart to Bonnie’s dark, sultry beauty.

  “Do you still need me?” the kid named Dawson asked.

  “Nope.” Kim tapped on the car top. “Get out of here. Thanks for the ride. And I get the car tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  Dawson waved again, the Focus exited in the tracks of the police car, and Bonnie, her cheeks pink, wordlessly watched it go. Bonnie’s discovery that batting her long lashes had a powerful effect on males was what had gotten her into trouble with Hector. Rio would have loved cloistering her somewhere far from the opposite sex, but since that was impossible, at least Focus-driving Dawson looked a whole lot safer than Hector or the Boyfriend.

  “Bonnie, I’d like to introduce you to Kim Stadtler.” David’s proper manners were back. “Kim, this is Bonnie Montoya.”

  “Hey, Bonnie! Welcome to Bridge Creek.”

  “And this is her sister, Rio. They’ll be guests for a couple of weeks. Visiting from the city.”

  “Rio. That’s awesome,” Kim said. “I’ve always wanted a prettier name.”

  “Short for Arionna.” Rio smiled, unable to resist the girl’s unpretentiousness. “And I’ll trade you. Kim is pretty in my opinion. Rio’s just weird.”

  “Done! Nice to meet you, Kim,” said Kim.

  “I’m going to change for a trip to town,” David said. “Could you take Bonnie and Rio on a little tour of the barn? Introduce them to Jackson.” He looked at them. “If you don’t mind waiting to unpack.”

  “Sure,” said Kim.

  “Sure,” echoed Bonnie.

  Unlike with crazy Chief Tanned Hewett or whatever his name was, Rio felt welcomed by Kim. And she didn’t have to make a word of conversation as Kim and Bonnie fell into an easy chatter about their ages, horses, and the “awesome place” that was Bridge Creek.

  “Awesome” barely described the stable’s facilities. Kim led them through a twenty-four-stall barn with polished wooden stall doors, a neatly swept cement aisle, and fancy name plaques on each stall. Behind the barn, Kim pointed out two indoor arenas, one small and one much larger, and to the fields beyond the pastures filled with odd-shaped obstacles she called the cross-country course.

  They followed Kim along a lane between several paddocks and slipped through one of three gates along the lane where she introduced them to a beautiful, light-brown horse with dark-black legs and a white stripe down its face. Rio swallowed back her first twinge of envy.

  “This is Jackson,” Kim said.

  Fifteen minutes passed while Bonnie willingly let Kim instruct her in all things barn- and horse-related. She set her to work on Jackson’s dusty sides with a stiff-bristled brush, and Rio stood by reaching now and then for Jackson’s muzzle, letting him nibble at her T-shirt, forgetting about the life she’d run from for a few magical moments. She tasted, fleetingly but in person, the life she’d fantasized about for twenty years.

  “Omygosh! Isn’t this just the kind of barn we’re going to have?” Bonnie burst the fantasy.

  For one instant Rio wanted to shake her sister. Couldn’t she figure out how dead that dream was now? But she caught herself. There was no point in rubbing Bonnie’s nose in reality at this point. It would all hit the fan soon enough.

  “We’re moving out West to our own ranch when I’m done with school,” Bonnie continued, in a shortened version of the story she’d told David just days before. “Rio’s been planning it since she was in high school.”

  At the prompt, Rio remembered the name of the town: Bear Falls, Wyoming. They’d stopped there for lunch on one day of the Boys and Girls Club trip she’d won in a raffle back in tenth grade. She’d seen some of her country’s most iconic sights: Mount Rushmore, and the Crazy Horse monument, and Wall Drug before reaching Devils Tower with the group. But it had been the ad in the window of a little real estate office next to the Ma and Pa café in Bear Falls—population two hundred and twenty-seven—that had captured her imagination.

  Two hundred acres, house and barn, with outbuildings. Needs some repair. Wooded and secluded. Suitable for horses or cattle.

  “That’s so strange.” Kim’s cheerful voice brought Rio back to the present. “Ever since my mom got remarried a year and a half ago, my stepdad has offered to let us move to a bigger farm, but Mom refuses. So they’re just fixing up our old place. It’s kind of cool, everything’s getting updated. Like David’s doing here and Jill is doing at their house. But I think it would be fun to move somewhere new. Where are you moving to?”

  “It’s going to be a while until that happens,” Rio said.

  “Probably Wyoming.” Bonnie ignored her. “There are always farms and land for sale. We can’t wait to get away from the city and have horses of our own.”

  “That’s a pretty perfect dream.”

  “It’s not a dream, it’s a goal.”

  Bonnie parroted the promise Rio had been drumming into her head since their father had died. Now the words of that promise pierced like daggers.

  “Sure.” She forced a smile. “We’ve just had a little setback.”

  “Setback?” Kim asked.

  “We had a fire at our house in Minneapolis,” Bonnie explained. “That’s why we’re staying here until we can find a new place.”

  “Oh my gosh! That’s awful.” Kim stopped working on the horse and turned fully to Rio. “I’m so sorry.”

  She clearly meant every sympathetic word. She was very hard not to like.

  “Thank you.”

  “So, do you guys ride?” Kim asked. “Can you at least have some fun while you’re here?”

  “I’ve never ridden,” Bonnie said. “Rio has once or twice, but only in Western saddles.”

  Kim grinned. “Western is awesome. But if you try English, you’ll never
want to do anything else.”

  The two girls launched into the new topic. Rio tuned them out and turned to watch a dark-gray cat leap gracefully up and over a stall door. Another cat, this one a wiry calico, joined the first. One stall door just down the aisle hung open with the front end of a wheelbarrow sticking out of it and tuneless whistling emanating from inside. A very short hallway off the tidy aisle led to the smaller of the two indoor arenas. So amazing. So opulent.

  The acreage for sale in that real estate window so long ago had seemed worth a fortune to sixteen-year-old Rio. The surmised costs of this horse palace boggled her mind.

  “Did you get the penny tour?”

  She turned at the sound of his voice and did a double take that shamed Bonnie’s earlier Dawson-gaping. Jeans now set off David’s long legs and hugged his waist like a lover’s embrace. A soft, white, button-down shirt had been tucked in but left open at his neck, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His thick brown hair curled in damp waves, and he smelled of pine and spice.

  “I’d think you’d have to charge much more than a penny for this place,” she replied, and immediately regretted the slight judgment in her tone.

  He frowned. “My bank creditors would like me better if I did book tours and collect money. And gave it all to them.”

  She knew he meant nothing by off-handed jokes about money, but the man could not be hurting no matter what he said.

  “Well, my bank creditors are crap out of luck,” she said.

  Discomfort shadowed his face. “Yeah. Rio, I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged, swallowed away the omnipresent lump in her throat, and changed the subject. “If we’re going to town, maybe we should go.”

  “Right. Good,” David said. “A short drive is all.”

  “Could I stay here and watch Kim’s lesson?” Bonnie asked. “I’d rather do that.”

  “I don’t think so,” Rio said. “You need to stick with us and help pick out what you want.”

  “You know what I eat,” she said. “You shop at home. Please, Rio, just let me hang out here.”

  “It’s okay with me,” Kim said.

 

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