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 insisted on following Cash on her bike. When he pulled his boat of a car into a long drive and parked behind a ten-year-old white Oldsmobile, she eased the Harley beside him. From this angle, the house looked presentable. Certainly not what she was used to, but if she was anxious to get back to what she already had, she should hit the road again and head back East. She wasn’t. Trying out something different, living differently, and proving she could accomplish something on her own—that was all part of this whole odyssey.
A simple white two-story, its outside stairs led to a second-floor apartment. Cash’s mutt jumped out of the car and whizzed past her, clipping the back of her leg and nearly taking her down.
Cash stuck two fingers in his mouth and emitted one shrill whistle. The cowboy pointed to a spot by his side, and the dog screeched to a stop, then sulked his way over to drop beside his master. Head on his front paws, he sent a pitiful look Cash’s way.
“Ignore him,” Cash told her. “He practices this. Give him an inch, you’ll never, ever have any peace. He’ll own you.”
Still, Annelise’s heart cracked, and she leaned down to rub the dog’s head. In a flash he flipped to his back, legs in the air, belly exposed, whimpering to be fussed over.
Laughing, she dropped to her knees and made him one happy pooch.
Cash leaned in, whispered in her ear. “If I fall onto the ground, will you rub my belly?”
His breath brushed along her neck, sent tiny shivers over her skin. She turned her head, met his deep-green eyes, and arched a brow.
She could have sworn a bolt of lightning flashed between them.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “What’s his name?”
“Staubach.”
She frowned.
“You know. Like Roger Staubach, the Dallas quarterback.”
She shook her head.
“You gotta be kidding. Heisman Trophy winner? He took us to two Super Bowls.”
“Nope, sorry.”
“Roger could get out of any jam on the field. Served in ’Nam, too. A real stand-up guy. He had guts. He was loyal. Like my pal here.” He reached down and scratched the dog’s ears.
Dottie Willis pushed herself out of the porch swing and started down the walk toward
them.
Cash removed his Stetson and held it at his side. “Mrs. Willis, this is Annie.”
Annie? Annie? She grimaced. Nobody called her Annie—not even when she’d been in diapers. She’d been born Annelise.
“Glad to meet you, honey. Like I said in the ad, my place isn’t much, but it’s clean.”
“That’s all I’m looking for.” Annelise realized she was actually nervous and wiped her palms on her pant legs. She really wanted this place. Wanted her first home.
“Should suit you well then.”
“We sure do appreciate this, Dottie.”
“No problem at all, sweetheart.” She pinched his cheek, and Annelise watched the blush creep up Cash’s neck to his face. Priceless.
Mrs. Willis nodded toward the Harley. “That’s a mighty big bike.”
Annelise grinned. “I like it. Lots of power, and I’m in control.”
She caught Cash studying her and could have kicked herself. Far too much insight flashed in his eyes, almost as if he knew her secret.
Mrs. Willis, who’d moved ahead of them, was nearly at the top of the stairs.
He bumped her shoulder. “What are you running away from?”
She fought for cocky. “What makes you think I’m running away? The question might be what am I running to.”
He considered that. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m glad you came running in my direction.”
“And my name is Annelise,” she muttered.
Waiting for them on the landing, Mrs. Willis asked, “How are your mama and daddy doing, Cash?”
“They’re great, Mrs. Willis. They decided to fly in from Paris tomorrow so they can be home in plenty of time for the big barbecue on the Fourth. You’ll be there, won’t you?”
“Couldn’t beat me off with a stick.” She dug a key from the pocket of her pink-flowered housedress.
The dress suited her perfectly, Annelise thought. This woman, the stereotypical grandma, could have played the role for any movie, any ad. Around five-three, she carried a few extra pounds and had the softest looking blue-gray curls. Pink-framed glasses dangled from a chain around Dottie’s neck, and no-nonsense tie-up shoes along with bright pink ankle socks covered her feet.
Somebody Like You Page 2
