A Texan for Hire

by Amanda Renee

  Truth be told, neither could he.

  The dim light of the dance floor darkened her eyes to a sensuous inky blue. Her pupils dilated. Clay’s voice caught in his throat and he swallowed hard.

  “You’re welcome” was all he could muster.

  Regrettably—or fortunately, he wasn’t sure which—the song ended and Clay led Abby back to their table as the band took an intermission. He ordered another round for everyone while Abby excused herself to go to the bathroom with Bridgett in tow, leaving him to stare after her like a lovestruck calf.

  “What’s the matter, old man?” Shane slapped him on the back. “Looks like you have your hands full with that one. See I was right, she’s hot.”

  “Hey, now,” Lexi said. “Don’t forget I’m still sitting here.”

  “She’s just a client,” Clay said, “but I agree, she’s blessed in the beauty department. And, there’s no grass growing under her feet, that’s for sure. She wore me out.” He dropped into the booth next to Lexi and playfully tugged her hair. “Why aren’t you up there tonight? Figured you’d be belting out a song or two.”

  Lexi lifted the side of her shirt to show him a large bruise on her left ribs.

  “A horse got the best of me today.” She lowered her shirt. “Knocked me clear across the stall with one kick.”

  One of the hazards of being an equine veterinarian, Lexi took the occasional tumble. And, like her sister Mazie, both were married to their jobs.

  “Did you get X-rayed this time?” Stubborn as she was tough, Lexi was known for letting her own health play second fiddle to her four-legged patients. A few years ago, she had punctured a lung when a wayward rib shifted because she had refused to go to the hospital after a horse kicked her while she was tending its rattlesnake bitten leg. Lexi wouldn’t consider risking an animal’s life just because she was in pain, and her dedication made her one of the state’s most respected equine vets.

  “Aw, aren’t you sweet. Worrying about little old me.” Lexi half-heartedly smiled. “I was given a clean bill of health. I’m just sore. I’m hoping this bourbon here will make it all better.”

  Abby returned to the table and slid into the booth next to Bridgett, forcing Clay to pull up a chair and sit out in the open. A part of him preferred to sit thigh to thigh with her, but this way was safer. Or not. When she shifted, he realized his vantage point gave him full view of her shapely bare legs. So much for safe. He hadn’t considered himself a leg man before, but he seemed unable to resist hers.

  “I hear you’re a physical therapist,” Chase said. “You’re more than welcome to come out to our ranch anytime.”

  Abby smiled. “Thanks. I met your mother the other day. Clay tells me she runs a hippotherapy facility. Is she a therapist?”

  “No, she’s the CEO. Dance of Hope was our father’s baby, but he died before it came to fruition,” Chase said over the music. “We had the grand opening last year, alongside our Ride ’em High! Rodeo School. The two facilities share an enclosed arena, with a couple of separate outdoor rodeo arenas in front and private hippotherapy corrals in the back.”

  “My condolences on your father’s death.” Abby leaned over the table so she wouldn’t have to yell, causing her hair to brush against Clay’s arm. A slight shiver coursed through his body and he silently cursed the effect she had on him. “Are you sure your mom wouldn’t mind my stopping in without any advance warning?”

  “Not at all,” Shane said. “She’d love to show you around. Clay said you have a therapy dog. Feel free to bring him along.”

  Abby gave Clay a look that told him she was surprised that his friends knew so much about her. He guessed he had built her up quite a bit when he’d called Shane and asked them to meet him and Abby tonight.

  “I will,” she said. “Thanks. I’m still in awe of the effect therapy animals have on people.” Clay sat back and admired the passion in Abby’s voice when she spoke. “I was reviewing some case studies last night. One involved a bone marrow transplant patient who had retreated into his shell. It was a battle when it came to his physical therapy. Eventually, he became unresponsive. When they added a dog to the patient’s therapy, the man’s spirits and physical well-being changed dramatically. Mundane little things such as petting a dog improve body movement. Throwing a ball increases range of motion and helps rebuild muscles.”

  “I wish you could’ve met our father,” Chase said. “You share his passion for animal-assisted therapy. His was horse related, but the concept is very much the same.”

  “It would have been an honor to know him,” Abby said. “It’s amazing how animals can aid in both mental and physical recovery.” She directed her attention to Lexi. “What do you do?”

  “I’m an equine vet by day, his wife by night.” Lexi playfully nudged Shane.

  Clay wished he could say the instant rapport Abby developed with everyone surprised him. There was a definite connection between her and this town, and it went way beyond just being her birthplace. She seamlessly fit in with everyone at the table, and Clay had a suspicion that once Abby saw Dance of Hope the sheer magnitude of the facility and the services they offered would leave her wanting to be a part of it.

  Abby’s enthusiasm rose with every animal therapy case she shared. Her genuine love of working with people and improving their quality of life was evident with each word she spoke. Clay watched Shane tug Lexi closer to give her a kiss. He pictured Abby tucked under his arm in the same way. No woman had captivated him so quickly before. Not even—

  An announcement for karaoke interrupted his thoughts. Abby looked around the table, then shrugged.

  “Excuse me.” She stood and straightened her dress. “If none of you are going up, then I will. I find karaoke next to impossible to resist.”

  The audience on the dance floor erupted when Abby stepped in front of the microphone, drowning out any further conversation. The woman knew how to attract attention. A Miranda Lambert song played and Abby belted out the words as if she’d written them herself. The woman could sing!

  Clay scanned the various women on the dance floor, trying to detect a resemblance to Abby. Four days into the case and he still didn’t have any solid leads despite devoting more time to her search than any other client he had. The phrase “needle in a haystack” definitely applied here. He had begun to secretly hope that he’d discover her sister living in town, which would give Abby a reason to come back and visit. But the chances of that were next to none.

  When the song ended, the room filled with whistles and shouts for more. Abby smiled at the crowd and met Clay’s eyes, then motioned for him to join her. He protested until Shane and Chase pulled him to his feet. Being ushered on stage hadn’t figured into his plans this evening, yet somehow he found himself prodded forward like a steer.

  “Sing a duet with me.” Abby directed him to the song list.

  “Abby, I don’t think—”

  “Then don’t. Have some fun and loosen up a little.” She shimmied her shoulders side to side for emphasis.

  “I’m loose.” Clay shook his own shoulders, trying to emulate her. A few of the locals near the stage hooted and hollered at his dance move.

  “Prove it!” Abby yelled above the noise.

  “Move over.” Clay hip-checked Abby out of the way. Perfume lingered in the air when she moved and he inhaled the scent deeper, committing it to memory. He couldn’t believe he was on stage. The last time had probably been a good ten years ago. Abby made it easy to laugh and have fun, and Clay forced himself to focus on the song list so he could prove to her he wasn’t uptight.

  The music started. Abby cocked her head and looked upward, trying to figure out the tune. She nodded to the beat and smiled. The words to “Picture,” a duet by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow, appeared on the screen and Abby sang her part without having to cheat and look at the lyrics. Only she d
idn’t merely sing...she performed.

  Not to be outdone, when it was his turn Clay stepped in front of her and belted out his part. Then she did the same. Each time their turn came up, they tried to upstage the other. Clay felt as if he was in a comedy routine. Finally, he gave up and stood behind her, resting his hands and chin on the top of her head.

  When the song ended, Abby threw herself into Clay’s arms. He spun her around, feeling freer than he had in years. She was inches from his face and her lips parted when their eyes met. He closed his for a moment and that was all it took for Clay to forget where they were.

  His lips crashed down upon hers, pent-up frustration colliding with his desire for the one woman who had managed to turn his head for the first time in years. He held her in his arms, her body pressed against his so close, he could have sworn their hearts beat in unison.

  Whoops and howls from the crowd filtered into his brain, quickly bringing him back to reality. He had kissed Abby in front of half the town. He released her abruptly. Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut before she hopped off stage with the assistance of some people in the front row, leaving Clay to stand in the spotlight alone.

  * * *

  WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? The last thing Abby had expected tonight was a kiss, especially one on stage in front of Clay’s friends and practically the entire town. She’d seen regret on his face the instant he broke the kiss, ruining the moment. The kiss had been amazing, though. He wanted her. No doubt about it.

  Sliding into the booth next to Bridgett, Abby was glad everyone else was on the dance floor. “Don’t say it.”

  “Don’t say what?” Bridgett took a swallow of beer. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions. Just make sure there’s water in the pool before you jump in.”

  “Did you see the look on his face?” Abby wasn’t one to shy away from a man, but when he suddenly released her in front of everyone, she’d wanted to crawl into a hole.

  Bridgett shook her head. “He had his back to us. Your face said enough.”

  “Do you think if I hid under the table anyone would miss me?”

  “Do you really want to know what I think?” Bridgett set her bottle on the table.

  “Go for it.” Abby braced herself for an onslaught.

  “I think everyone was surprised to see Clay walk in here with you. They were even more surprised when he got up on that stage and sang. That was the old Clay we haven’t seen in years.”

  “Really?” Clay had seemed so natural singing next to her.

  “Yep, the kiss was a bonus. Congratulations for breaking through part of his armor.” Bridgett raised her bottle to Abby. “But, before you run off and celebrate...the way he abruptly ended it? Well, that’s the typical brooding Clay we’ve become accustomed to since he returned. I promise, no one thinks any less of you. Clay, on the other hand, looked like an ass for potentially blowing the best thing that ever happened to him.” Bridgett smiled. “Abby, it’s his loss, not yours.”

  Abby watched Clay talk to an older man at the bar. He didn’t once look her way. Their kiss, however brief, had contained real emotion, and Abby wished she knew if Clay had backed away out of fear or because he’d been caught up in the moment. Fear she could handle. People overcame fear with a little work. Regret...that was a different story, especially if something or someone from his past was stopping him from moving forward with his life.

  Questions beckoned, and she was determined to find the answers, including the one surrounding Clay’s heart.

  * * *

  FOR AN HOUR, he’d forgotten about the past. Forgotten he even had a past. But now? Guilt weighed heavy in his heart. Had he betrayed Ana Rosa’s memory by kissing Abby? His fiancée was gone. He’d never feel her soft skin against his again. He’d never hear her say I love you in her horrible Americanized accent. The woman had had so much heart, determined to learn English from him and Paulo so she’d fit in better with Clay’s family.

  Family...some days he cursed the word. He had figured they’d have had kids of their own by now, and it would have been Ana Rosa by his side tonight. That was the way it was supposed to be, and it would have been if he hadn’t made the biggest mistake of his life and cost them theirs.

  Abby tested his devotion to Ana Rosa’s memory each time he was with her. He knew he was in love with the memory of what was, but he wasn’t ready to move on. Not yet.

  Not wanting to head back to the table and face Abby, Clay ordered another beer. Beau Bradley, one of Ramblewood’s old-timers, sat at the far end, talking with one of his cronies. Clay joined them. There’d be no heavy conversations among these men. He needed a safe zone.

  “Scoping out the ladies, tonight?” Clay slapped the older man on the shoulder.

  “I see you caught yourself a little something.” Beau motioned across the dance floor with his beer bottle in Abby’s direction.

  “She’s actually a client,” Clay said. If anyone knew old Ramblewood gossip, it was Beau. “But I have a feeling you already knew that.”

  “Yep, word travels fast in these parts.” Beau tapped his feet to the beat of the music and swigged his beer. “Since when do you kiss your clients on stage?”

  Clay ignored the comment. “She’s looking for her long-lost sister and thinks someone in Ramblewood might remember her parents or have some sort of information we can use.” Beau took a longer tug on his beer than usual. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you?”

  Beau’s hand hesitated slightly as he set his bottle on the bar top.

  “Can we talk?” Abby tapped his shoulder. Clay turned around. Her small smile held a touch of sadness. Her confusion over their kiss probably matched his own. “Just give me one minute.”

  When Clay turned back around to the bar, Beau was gone.

  Chapter Four

  Abby tossed and turned most of the night. What was up with Clay? The question attacked her mind for hours. He had mumbled something about needing to find a man who had just left the bar, then he’d torn out of Slater’s Mill. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about their very public display of affection. It hadn’t been the most gentle of kisses, but it definitely ranked as the most passionate one she’d ever experienced. At the moment she felt like Georgie Porgie from the old nursery rhyme, only she had kissed the boy and made him cry...and then he’d run away. Nothing screamed desperate like a stranger kissing the resident bachelor in front of half the town. How could she have done something so stupid?

  Abby willed herself out of bed and dressed. It was a new day, with a new set of possibilities. After Duffy’s morning visit to the Bark Park, Abby decided to pop across the street to the Curl Up & Dye Salon for a much needed mani-pedi. A little pampering always managed to brighten her day. Well, that and new yarn. Earlier, Mazie had told Abby about the Knitter’s Circle a block away, but they didn’t open until eleven. She wanted some girlie distraction from the thoughts churning in her head...knitting and manicures fit the bill. Throw in a cupcake and she’d be in heaven.

  Abby blinked as she pushed open the door of the salon. She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected by way of decor in the salon, but the pink giraffe-print ceiling was a definite surprise. Dozens of large round mirrors hung on sherbet-striped walls that contrasted with the stark white tile floor. The rest of town had a Happy Days meets The Waltons vibe going on, and she had assumed the salon would be more of the same. Instead, it was elegantly eclectic, with just a touch of flamboyance carefully balanced with the sophistication of the sleek black styling chairs and très chic frosted-glass manicure stations.

  “Hello, I’m Kylie,” trilled the woman who greeted her at the door, almost knocking Abby back onto the street with her high-pitched voice and overly sweet perfume. “Welcome to Curl Up and Dye, where we beautify until you’re satisfied.”

  Seriously?

 
Abby fought the grin threatening to betray her thoughts. The woman had said only a couple of words—albeit they were a mouthful—but it was Kylie’s wide-eyed, simple expression, complete with head tilt, that almost made Abby snicker. Fitted, black ponte-pants and a body-hugging pink T-shirt flawlessly coordinated with the twentysomething’s pink-and-black French manicure. While her long, layered, chocolate-hued tresses were a bit on the voluminous side, they had the most incredible sheen. Kylie was beautiful in every sense of the word, but her aura definitely screamed space cadet.

  “Hi, I’m Abby and I’m new in—”

  “I know who you are.” Kylie giggled, practically bubbling over with excitement. “You’re the talk of Ramblewood.”

  “I’m the what?”

  “You made out with Clay at Slater’s last night.” Kylie leaned closer and whispered. “And from where I stood, it looked like a romp-tastic kiss. If only Aaron would kiss me like that.” Kylie dramatically patted her heart.

  Oh, my stars, the woman has little black rhinestone bow-ties on the tips of her fingernails. Abby rubbed her forehead, trying to focus on Kylie’s words.

  “Who’s Aaron? And it really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

  Okay, so it was a kiss. And while it lasted all of five seconds, it didn’t come anywhere close to what Abby would call making out. As good as it had been, she wasn’t quite sure it fit into the romp-tastic category, either. Regardless, it had caught Kylie’s attention and apparently the rest of the town’s, too.

  “Aaron’s my beau. Has been for years.” Kylie twirled a strand of hair before she tucked it behind her ear and made certain nobody else was listening. “Between you and me, I don’t think I’m ever going to be anything more than his girlfriend. I’d like to get hitched at some point, and while the man can shake the rafters loose in the bunkhouse a couple of times a night, he stays in the shadows of his momma’s apron when it comes to the ’til death do us part department, if you know what I mean.”