A Texan for Hire

by Amanda Renee

  Clay bet Abby was taking mental notes on every word out of Joan’s mouth. Glancing around, he imagined what it would be like to run his own alpaca ranch. He was already devoting a good portion of his day to animals. Nothing said he had to give up investigating, but he would need to cut back on his work load. It was something he planned to do in the future, but really, what he was waiting for?

  After completing their tour, they thanked Bob and Joan for their hospitality.

  “Think you’d be open to me driving that thing home?” Clay asked.

  “You want to drive a Mini?” Abby laughed. “The same man who claimed he wouldn’t fit wants to drive it?”

  “Yeah.” Clay grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against his chest. Lowering his mouth to hers, he watched her eyes flutter closed, anticipating a kiss. “Give me the keys,” he whispered against her lips.

  Abby’s eyes flew open and she attempted to twist away from him. “That was mean.”

  “Stop.” Clay laughed as Abby tried to escape. “Play nice or else Bob and Joan will call the police on us.”

  Abby stilled. “Fine, here.” Thrusting the keys into his hand, she reluctantly resigned herself to the passenger seat.

  “What kind of key is this?” Clay held up a circular disk. He opened the door and slid the seat all the way back before climbing in beside her. Finding a slot in the dashboard, Clay inserted the disk and pressed the start button. “My truck’s so old it has an actual key on the column.”

  “We need to get you a more up-to-date vehicle,” Abby said, giggling. “I can totally see you working undercover in a bright yellow Mini Cooper.”

  “Oh, yeah, I would completely blend in with my surroundings then.” Clay laughed. “How about we stop and grab a bite on the way home? There’s an amazing barbecue place on the outskirts of town.”

  “I bet Texas barbecue can’t compare to South Carolina barbecue.” Abby glanced at him, the corners of her mouth curling upward. “Just kidding. I know there’s no beating Texas.”

  “There sure isn’t.” Clay’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as they rode in silence for a few long moments. Normally, he enjoyed the quiet, but his closeness to Abby in her car made it all but impossible for his arm not to touch hers. Coupled with the glimmer of hope that they might have a future together, it sent his libido soaring in directions he’d forgotten existed.

  He fought the urge to take her hand for fear she’d sense his anxiety. Allowing her to share in his dreams was personal, borderline romantic and perfect. And perfect was out of the question, especially since she’d know the truth about her adoption and sister in less than twenty-four hours. Everything he loved about today could be gone tomorrow. Even if it wasn’t, he still had to find the courage to tell her about Ana Rosa and Paulo. How would he ever find the words to tell Abby he was responsible for their deaths?

  “I had an amazing time.” The lilt in Abby’s voice broke the silence. “Especially when I hugged that little white one. Are you ready for your own little cria?”

  Clay exhaled a breath. “Their initial cost is much higher than sheep, but the environmental impact is less. I wouldn’t have to worry about them damaging the land since they don’t pull everything up by the roots when grazing. Plus, I wouldn’t have to worry about hoof trimming since they don’t have any. I have enough of that going on right now with the goats.” He tapped the steering wheel. “Honestly, with the rate they’re multiplying, the vet bills alone will bankrupt me. I’m willing to help out my clients, but it’s getting to the point I’m sacrificing what I want for too many other people.”

  His words had come out harder than he’d intended, and he hoped Abby didn’t notice his tension. Shifting slightly, he removed his phone from his pocket and checked to see if he’d missed a call from Ruby. Not seeing her number, Clay silently cursed. He’d finally allowed his heart to open again and outside circumstances were close to destroying it.

  “Couldn’t you sell them to one of those goat grazing operations? It’s eco-friendly weed control and you’d have peace of mind they weren’t sold for meat.”

  “That’s an idea.” Why hadn’t he thought of that?

  Out of the corner of his eye, Clay saw Abby glance at her watch. “Do you think we could get dinner to go? I forgot I have to pick up Duffy before six.”

  It was quarter to five. They’d make it to Ramblewood with a handful of minutes to spare.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “We’ll pick up Duffy together, then you can drop me off and I’ll pick us up some dinner. You two can come over to eat. That is, if you want to.”

  “Sure.”

  Abby’s phone rang inside her bag.

  “Excuse me a moment.” She glanced at the screen. “Hello?”

  Clay faintly heard a male voice on the other end of the call. Unable to make out the words, it sounded like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoon.

  “Oh, my—that’s wonderful!” Abby shouted. “I’m sorry, please continue.”

  He glanced at her. Her hand and phone partially covered her face, but there was no mistaking her giant smile.

  “Yes, thank you,” she said. “I look forward to discussing it with you further...you, too...goodbye.”

  She disconnected the call, shrieked and stomped the floorboard rapidly with her feet. “They approved the animal-assisted therapy program at the hospital! I can’t believe it.”

  “W-wow. That’s wonderful, Abby.” Clay dug for the courage to congratulate her. “I’m proud of you. It’s your dream job.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Abby flopped against the seat. “At least, it was until I came here and saw Dance of Hope.”

  “What are you saying?” Clay swore his heart skipped a beat.

  “It’s something to think about and discuss further when I get home to Charleston...” Abby trailed off. “I need to really weigh the pros and cons. I’m not going to decide in five seconds one way or the other.”

  “How did you leave it with the hospital?” Clay hated to ask since he hadn’t heard anything negative from her during the conversation.

  “Well, I’m still employed by the hospital, so there’s an assumption I would accept.”

  Clay’s nerves shifted into high gear. He knew he should let her go and live her dreams, but he couldn’t help think she’d fulfill them and more in Ramblewood. With him. He desperately wanted to change her mind. He was scared. Genuinely scared of losing Abby. And now the opposing team had raised the stakes. If he wanted Abby to stay, he’d need to show her how he felt, and he had only tonight to do it.

  Chapter Ten

  Abby ran up the stairs of the inn as quietly and quickly as humanly possible. It wasn’t as if she was hiding from anyone. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. She was about to pack an overnight bag and didn’t want anyone to see her sneak it out of the house. That just screamed, Hey, I’m planning on getting some tonight.

  Duffy jumped on the bed and wagged his tail at her. “You look so cute in your new haircut, sweetie.” Abby quickly fixed him a bowl of food and set it in the raised food stand. “How do you feel about a possible sleepover tonight? You like Clay, don’t you?”

  Who was she kidding? Duffy liked everyone. Except the UPS man. Her dog always growled when he arrived, and he was the only person who brought him puppy goodies.

  After quickly stripping off her clothes, Abby jumped into the shower. The last thing she wanted was for Clay to kiss her and have his thoughts wander to an alpaca because that’s what she smelled like. Duffy had gone wild at her scent.

  Freshly bathed, shaved and deodorized, Abby pulled a collapsible bag from her suitcase.

  “I knew this thing would come in handy.” Of course, she’d thought she would fill it with items purchased on her trip, not a change of clothes and a toothbrush.

  Abby slipped on the
lacy bra and panties set she’d purchased at Margarita’s, a pair of fitted black yoga pants and a curve-hugging flannel shirt. Sliding her feet into sneakers, she clipped a leash on Duffy and made her descent down the stairs.

  She had almost made it to the front door when she heard voices from upstairs. She broke into a run, grateful as she stumbled onto the porch without having seen anyone.

  “Going somewhere?” Mazie’s voice boomed from behind an urn of flowers.

  “Oh, my God!” Abby dropped her bag and flattened against the wall. Duffy barked. “You scared the daylights out of me.”

  “I see that,” Mazie snickered.

  Glancing at the bag between them, Abby knew Mazie had put the pieces together. She hated having to explain herself, but Abby felt obligated since she was staying under Mazie’s roof. True, it was a hotel of sorts and she owed no one anything. But Mazie was different. They’d become friends over the past week, and if Abby wasn’t coming home tonight, then Mazie deserved to know. Mazie seemed the type to sit up waiting and worrying until her friends made it home safely.

  “I don’t know if I’m going to be back tonight.” Abby wrapped and unwrapped Duffy’s leash around her hand.

  “Just make sure you’re prepared,” Mazie said.

  The implication clear, Abby nodded. “I’m always prepared.”

  The words flew out before Abby had weighed their meaning. She wasn’t prepared at all. The hospital board she’d battled for the past few years had finally granted her the opportunity of a lifetime. She’d be an integral part of designing an animal-assisted therapy program from the ground up, further increasing a patient’s chance for a successful recovery.

  She should be celebrating. Popping champagne corks, calling her family and friends. So why did she feel hollow? Why was her heart ready to burst? She had everything she wanted. Didn’t she?

  “Abby, is anything wrong?” Mazie interrupted her thoughts.

  “No.” She met her friend’s concerned face. “Everything’s perfect.” Abby finally realized what it was she had wanted all along.

  * * *

  CLAY FLEW IN the back door of his house after he picked up dinner. He assessed the state of his home, starting with the kitchen. He grabbed all of his files, stacking them neatly on one end of the counter and shoved his laptop in its case before setting it in the dining room against the wall.

  The dining room. Nothing would make the room look any better than what it was...a storage unit of sorts. He pushed what boxes were in the traffic footpath back a bit, so Abby and Duffy could easily walk past without killing themselves. Then he remembered Abby saying Clue was her favorite board game.

  “Where is that box?” Clay climbed over a mountain of crap to reach the board games his sister Hannah had brought from the house. Clue was the second from the top. When he grabbed it his foot slipped, almost sending him crashing to the floor. “I really need to start going through this mess.”

  After vowing to himself to tackle the room in the near future, he moved on to the living room. It didn’t contain much furniture—a couch, two recliners and a coffee table. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall above the fireplace, but Clay rarely turned it on.

  Not remembering the last time he dusted, he pulled the pillows off the couch and gave them a good shake out on the front porch. He ran damp paper towels over every surface then pulled his emergency candles from under the sink and placed them on the fireplace mantel.

  He cringed when he read the labels on the jars...sugar cookie, blueberry scones and vanilla cupcake. The candles had been Hannah’s idea of a housewarming gift. She’d been a teenager back then. She was currently a sophomore in college. Her life had been constantly changing and growing, while Clay’s had remained the same since the day he moved in. Until Abby had walked into his life on four-inch heels.

  Clay’d had an entirely different impression of the woman during their first meeting. She had been confident, but also lost, especially compared to the strong, independent, risk-taking woman he saw now. The thing of it was, Abby probably hadn’t changed. She was every bit as strong and independent before he met her. Hell, she had taken a huge risk driving alone in that tiny car, to a strange town, with only a note to guide her.

  Clay needed to call Ruby. She’d pushed the limits of his good graces. Tomorrow was day two, and it had been long enough. If she was looking for the perfect time, he hated to break it to her, but there wasn’t one.

  Bounding upstairs, Clay quickly stripped the sheets off the bed and threw on a fresh set, courtesy of his mother. She was always giving him a new set of sheets for some unknown reason. He didn’t have anyone to impress with his bedroom. It was stark and practical, and Clay was grateful the last few sets of sheets his mother had given him were solid colors. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he had donated the floral sets to Goodwill. Why did he need so many sheets anyway? He washed them once a week and it wasn’t as if he wore out the old sheets. Hell, he hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since Ana Rosa.

  For years, Clay had thought he’d never be able to make love to another woman. Tonight the possibility had a good chance of becoming a reality. His breath caught. Was he ready for this?

  Clay glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror. Here he was, starting another relationship based on a lie. At least this time Abby knew what his profession was. The headlights of her car reflected in the upstairs windows. He brushed his teeth, rinsed and spat before running downstairs. He reached the door just as she lifted her hand to knock.

  Abby had changed clothes since she dropped him off. She wore black fitted pants and a feminine pink plaid flannel shirt, which she had unbuttoned to the cleavage line, sending Clay’s desire into overdrive. Not many women could make flannel sexy, but Abby had no problems in that department.

  He swallowed. “Long time, no see. You look great, by the way.” He bent down to kiss her on the mouth. What was supposed to be an innocent peck ran into overtime until he felt little feet pawing against his jeans. He reluctantly broke the kiss and crouched down to the floor. “Hello to you, too, Duffman.”

  “You tidied up, I see.” Abby glanced around the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do that on my account. I know you work out of your kitchen.”

  Clay grabbed the bag of Chinese food from the counter and led Abby by the hand into the living room.

  “Clue!” She knelt in front of the coffee table. “Where did you get this?”

  “I forgot my sister had brought over a whole bunch of board games before she went away to college.” Clay knelt beside her and unpacked their dinner. “Are you up for the challenge?”

  “Bring it.” Abby helped him open the containers. “What the heck is that?”

  Clay held up the lumpy bag. “Twenty fortune cookies. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “You bet.” She tore the wrapper from a set of chopsticks and dug into her lo mein noodles. He watched her carefully look around the room, wondering if she was disgusted with what she saw.

  “I can see it,” Abby said, nodding.

  “Dust?” Clay sighed. “I tried to get it all before you got here.”

  “No.” She waved him away. “A houseful of kids. I can see it in this house.”

  So could Clay...with Abby.

  * * *

  “PROFESSOR PLUM IN the conservatory with the lead pipe.”

  Clay threw the black answer envelope on the game board. “How did you solve that one so fast?”

  “What does that make...seven in a row or is it eight?” Abby danced around the living room. “I beat the P.I.”

  As she twirled past him, Clay grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. Brushing the hair from her face, he trailed the backs of his fingers down her neck and across her chest, barely skimming the top of her breasts.

  “You make me feel whole again.” His statement would lea
d to questions, but tonight he was prepared to answer them.

  “What happened to you?” Abby rested her hand over his heart.

  He took a deep breath to steady his resolve. “A little over three years ago, I was working undercover for the ATF trying to bust a gunrunning operation along the Mexican border. Part of my cover was to be a member of a biker gang who owned a motorcycle garage on the outskirts of the town where the guns were coming into the country.”

  Clay glanced down at Abby. Her expression was calm, serious. She nodded for him to continue. “The operation was huge and the DEA joined forces in our sting due to the high amounts of cocaine crossing the border with the guns.”

  “It sounds dangerous.”

  “Almost every investigation the ATF is involved in is dangerous.” Clay shifted Abby slightly on his lap. “It went along with the job. The people we were trying to take down this time were extremely volatile. We’re talking millions of dollars in guns and drugs. The extent of this raid would affect traffickers across the United States and Mexico.”

  Clay stared into the darkened dining room, remembering what he so desperately tried to forget.

  Abby slid off his lap and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  “It’s time.” He steeled himself to speak the words he had never told another living soul, not even the counselors he had been forced to see when his mission had ended. “We were there for a little over four months. During that time I met a woman named Ana Rosa and her six-year-old son, Paulo. She barely spoke a word of English, but her son had learned it in school and did most of the translating for her. My limited Spanish got me through our initial conversations and eventually we began to teach each other new words.”

  Duffy climbed onto his lap and lay across his legs. Clay ran his hand over the dog’s back.

  “Ana Rosa didn’t know I was an ATF agent. She also never knew my real name. She took me at face value, assuming I was a gang member, never thinking any less of me for it. The lifestyle wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Her brother, Raul, was one of the key people we were trying to take down. As time went on, Ana Rosa and I grew closer.” He swallowed. “And I proposed.”