A Texas Chance

by Jean Brashear

  Sophie grinned to herself. She’d been in all the major cities of this country as well as several abroad and, as a single woman, caution was ingrained. The faceless woman was right, but she felt safe in this neighborhood. The more she walked through the area, the more she fell in love with it. SoCo might be trendy now, but the neighborhoods surrounding it still held their original charm, their hometown feel. Here and there the original modest dwelling had been replaced by new construction that took up almost the entire lot, but for the most part, the neighborhood remained a mix of young families drawn to the center of the city and old people who’d been around a long time. Not to mention neighbors who made sure perfect strangers were all right when they fell.

  “You have a nice night now,” she called to the woman.

  “Next time you’re by, you come visit. Name’s Mrs. Ransom.”

  “I’m Sophie Carlisle, and I’d like that. Thank you.” She sincerely hoped that once the hotel was up and fully staffed, she’d have time for such luxuries.

  Visit with neighbors. Imagine that.

  The worry that dogged her lifted a little with this pleasant glimpse of a possible future. She wouldn’t be making social calls anytime soon, but somewhere down the road…

  Maybe she’d invite her new acquaintance, Mrs. Ransom, to a preview party, along with other neighbors. She’d already been planning an event for important figures in Austin who had contacts with those in the income brackets to afford her prices. Why not mix the two? It was such an Austin way to do things, mingling the glamorous with the down-home. That was her vision for the hotel, as well, to create the cachet of an exclusive hotel with the ambience of take-off-your-shoes-and-relax comfort. Everything she was doing was intended to make her guests feel that they’d entered a refuge, your grandmother’s home with five-star service and absolute privacy…and the option to mingle for those who wanted it.

  She had hammocks ready to hang between trees for a lazy afternoon, bent willow furniture that was ideal for sitting on the porch with a glass of cold tea, and a variety of overstuffed chairs and sofas perfect for napping or settling in with a good book.

  Lost in dreams of how her hotel would look, she nearly tripped over a lump at the edge of the sidewalk before realizing it was a dog. Her foot connected with his side before she could catch herself, but the animal only whimpered and didn’t move. She glanced around for signs of an owner, but the street was empty. She crouched, though not too close, as she scanned the long-haired form of what appeared to be an Irish setter. The dappled moonlight obscured her vision, and she dug in her purse for the little flashlight attached to her key chain.

  “Hey, fella,” she said, hesitating before touching him. This dog couldn’t be in less knowledgeable hands. She’d never had a pet, though as a child she’d wanted one badly.

  She couldn’t see any foaming at the mouth or anything—wasn’t that what dogs with rabies did? As she scanned the dog’s face, the eyes were sad and lost. The tail wagged faintly and he looked up, then his head collapsed back to the sidewalk.

  “What’s wrong, buddy?” Gingerly she ran her hands over matted fur. When she reached the dog’s hindquarters, he yelped. What had happened? Was he injured?

  What should she do? Clearly she couldn’t pick up the dog, for fear of injuring him further, to say nothing of potential harm to herself, but she couldn’t just walk away.

  In her hotel management days, she’d always made certain she and every one of her staff was trained in first aid and CPR, but none of that applied here.

  Except one thing might. Keep the patient calm. “You’re okay, boy,” she said, and stroked his head.

  The animal trembled, but as she continued to stroke and talk, he settled and closed his eyes.

  Don’t die. Please don’t die. Sophie shivered. She’d lost too many people in her life. She’d lain awake nights, wondering about their last moments and imagining what she could have done to prevent their deaths. This was not a human, or a dog she knew, but somehow every bit of I wish I could have thinking that had haunted her for years pressed in on her now. She could not let this animal die—or if he couldn’t be saved, she wasn’t going to let him die alone.

  But if she called Animal Services, even if they were available at night, there was no telling if she’d be allowed to stay with the dog—likely not. She didn’t know a vet, didn’t have clue who might…except Jenna. She didn’t want to interrupt Jenna’s party, but she didn’t see an alternative.

  Just as she pulled out her phone, she spotted a man approaching on the sidewalk.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. Do you live around here?”

  “Not really. I’m visiting.”

  “Oh, dear. I need a veterinarian.”

  He looked past her. “What happened to your dog?”

  “It’s not mine. I found him like this.”

  He sank to his knees a little stiffly, though his frame was tall and powerful. “Hey, boy.” He extended a hand and let the dog sniff it. The dog’s tail thumped again, but only once.

  “Here.” She handed him the flashlight. “I don’t know anything about dogs, but he won’t move. When I touched his back legs, he cried out.”

  The man ran his hands over the animal, and he felt his way down the front legs. When he reached the back ones, the dog trembled and whined piteously. “I don’t think we should try to move him yet.”

  “I considered calling nine-one-one, but I doubt they’d appreciate it, and anyway, I don’t want him to get taken to a shelter.”

  “But he’s not yours, you said.”

  “He’s hurt and scared. He needs me.”

  “He doesn’t know you.”

  She frowned. “That doesn’t matter. He’s alone.” She gave him a look that had always sent her employees scurrying. “Never mind. I’ll handle this. There’s no need for you to hang around,” she said in her frostiest voice. “Don’t let me inconvenience you further.”

  He scowled. “Give me your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you want to help this dog or not?”

  She seethed at his peremptory tone, but he was right. This was about the dog. She shoved the phone at him.

  He punched in a set of numbers. “Delilah, who’s your vet?”

  Delilah. Figures.

  “Will he take night calls?” He listened. “I came upon an injured dog on the street, an Irish setter that doesn’t want to move and is sensitive about his hindquarters. I’d like to talk to someone before moving him.” He waited for her to speak, then glanced over at Sophie. “What’s your cell number?”

  She told him and he relayed it to the woman on the other end.

  “Great. Thanks, Delilah. I’ll wait for his call.” He clicked off and handed her the phone.

  She took it. “I’ll stay here and deal with it. You go on.”

  “Well, now, like it up on that high horse, Queenie?”

  Her eyes went to slits. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Then don’t dismiss me like some peon.”

  “Look, I’m not sure what your problem is, but I’ve told you I don’t need you. Just return to your…Delilah. I’m sure she misses you, heaven knows why.”

  He stared at her, his hand on the dog’s head. “All this tension you’re producing isn’t good for the dog.”

  “I’m producing?” She barely resisted the urge to scream.

  He grinned, and the sight of his smile silenced her. He might be a jerk, but he had a bone-melting smile, blast him. “I’m not the one doing all the yelling, Queenie.”

  She seethed but didn’t speak.

  He exhaled. “Sorry. I’m not in the greatest mood, but it’s not right to take that out on you.”

  Their hands bumped on t
he dog’s head, and she yanked hers back as if burned. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Don’t give an inch, do you?” But he smiled, and there was a dangerous level of charm in that smile.

  An awkward silence fell. Somehow, though, his presence was a comfort. He seemed to know something about dogs, and she was terrified that her inexperience would kill this poor creature.

  Finally, Sophie unbent. “I’m sorry, too. Do you want to talk about it? Why you’re in a bad mood, that is?” After all, they were stuck here until the vet called.

  “Huh?” He dragged himself from his reverie. “Oh—just family stuff. I have a kid sis who’s a sucker for a sob story, and she’s trying to guilt me into helping her latest charity case.” He shook his head. “And she plans to empty my wallet along the way.”

  “Your sister? Is that where you’re visiting?”

  “Yeah.” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Heart as big as the planet but the common sense of a gnat. At the moment, she’s throwing a party for a houseful of her projects. Shoot, she’d take this dog, too, if I brought him to her—which is why I won’t.”

  Sophie froze. His sister sounded entirely too much like Jenna, whose house was only a block away. And the charity case sounded way too much like her.

  Sophie tilted her head to get a better view of him in the light of the streetlamp. His hair was a darker shade than Jenna’s strawberry blond, but still blond. Two of Jenna’s brothers had blond hair and two dark when she’d seen photos of Jenna’s family. Was he one of the faces?

  Please. No. “There’s no reason for your sister to be bothered,” she said, reeling. Was that all she was to Jenna, a charity case? She was no one’s project. No one’s sob story. Certainly not this ill-tempered jerk’s. “You should go. I’ll take the vet’s call whenever it comes, and I’ll deal with the dog.”

  “Listen, lady…” She wasn’t sure lady was much better than Queenie, but at least he wasn’t mocking her. “I said I’d stay and that’s that.” He frowned. “If nothing else, I was raised better than to leave a woman on a street alone at night.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  His brows snapped together. “Maybe so, but the dog can’t. How about you be the one to leave instead?”

  He was insufferable. Gorgeous, maybe, in a rough-hewn way, but a total jerk. Surely he couldn’t be related to the kindhearted Jenna. She opened her mouth to argue just as her phone rang.

  He snatched it from her hand. “Cade MacAllister.”

  Crap.

  “Got it. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Thanks, Doc.” He snapped her phone shut and handed it back. “Where’s your car?”

  “I didn’t drive. I was walking.”

  “Then I’ll get the one I’m renting. Be right back.” He rose a little gingerly and walked off without waiting for a response.

  Sophie realized her mouth was hanging open and shut it. She shook her head and texted Jenna to say she wouldn’t be making it to her party. Then she cleared her mind of anything but the dog. “I’ll get you fixed up, sweetie, don’t you worry.”

  Even though doing so meant more time spent in the presence of the arrogant Cade MacAllister, who thought of her as nothing more than a failure begging for a handout.

  CADE SLID DOWN IN A chair in the vet’s reception area and watched the woman pacing across the linoleum. She was a looker, that was for sure, tall and graceful, with nice curves and an impressive set of long legs beneath the filmy blue sundress she wore. Whiskey-colored hair more red than brown escaped from the clip in which she’d tried to corral it. He thought her eyes might be green if they weren’t alternately trying to freeze him or make him burst into flames with a look.

  Queenie was a knockout, though in a quiet way. Too bad her personality was atrocious. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to strong-willed women—his mother and sister were prime examples while Diego’s cardiac surgeon wife Caroline gave them a run for their money. But even Caroline at her iciest, way back in the beginning, didn’t hold a candle to Queenie.

  And yet he was intrigued, in spite of himself. He’d rejected the notion of a permanent relationship with a woman long ago. His nomadic lifestyle would doom a marriage from the get-go. He preferred his women fun, warm and temporary.

  But if he’d ever toyed with the idea of permanence, he thought he’d want someone sweet and kind, a real homebody, not an iceberg like the woman pacing in front of him.

  He frowned. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  Her head whipped around. “Why?”

  He drew back. “Whoa. I’m not asking for your ATM password or your dress size, just a name. Most people have them, you know.” When she hesitated, he held up both palms. “Fine by me. Queenie, it is, then.”

  She glared at him and started to speak, but the vet appeared in the doorway. He glanced between them and settled on Cade.

  “Your dog has suffered a fracture at the top of the femur where it joins the hip socket, likely caused from being hit by a car. I’ll have to perform surgery on him in the morning when I have staff to assist, a femoral head ostectomy, which will smooth off the ragged edge. He’s stabilized for now and resting comfortably. Which one of you is the owner?”

  Queenie stepped forward. “I am. Well, I will be. I only found him tonight. He didn’t have a tag.”

  The vet nodded. “No microchip, either, and the state of his neglect inclines me to believe he’s been abandoned for some time. I can call the shelter, if you prefer.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I want him. I’ll—” She pressed her lips together and twisted her hands. “Do you have any idea what this will cost?”

  “I can take care of the bill,” Cade heard himself saying. Heaven knew he didn’t spend much of his income.

  She turned, and he spotted a conflict in her gaze right before she straightened her shoulders. “I don’t need your help.”

  You keep saying that. Cade shrugged. “Whatever.”

  She faced the vet. “How long will he have to stay here?”

  “He’ll require cage rest for at least a week, then his activities will need to be restricted for another week or so until the sutures are removed. If you’re not in a position to provide that, we can take care of him here. I’ll know more about the time frame after the operation.”

  “When can I call to find out how the surgery went?”

  “I have a full day of appointments, but you can speak to my assistant, Christina.” He handed her a business card. “Here’s the number. Probably after lunch is best.”

  She handed him a card in return. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry for the late-night call.”

  “No problem. Delilah is a favorite of mine.”

  “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” She left quickly.

  Cade lingered and spoke quietly to the vet. “Delilah’s my sister-in-law. If there’s any problem with the bill, please let me know. I’m good for it.”

  “Are you and the lady friends?”

  “Never met her before. Thanks, Doc. I’ll be calling tomorrow, too.” He waved good-night and left.

  Outside he looked for Queenie, only to spot her quickstepping toward the corner and away from—not toward—his SUV. “Hey! I’m parked back that way.”

  “I’ll get a cab.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. I’ll take you.”

  She didn’t respond, only hastened her steps and rounded the corner.

  Cade raced after her faster than his still-healing body appreciated.

  But when he reached the corner, she was gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SOPHIE WAS UP AND ATTACKING weeds well before dawn to make up for work not done the night before. The landscaping contractor wouldn’t be here for two more days. She’d been forced to
cut back on the scope of his work due to both time and money constraints, but she was determined that the grounds would be a source of beauty and peace for those who stayed there.

  As she yanked at vines trying to choke what she’d identified as snowball bushes next to the foundation, she thought about the dog she’d rescued the night before.

  Well, they’d rescued. She had to give Cade MacAllister that much. He’d been quick and efficient at getting the animal help, so he couldn’t be heartless, even if he rubbed her the wrong way.

  Queenie. She snorted. Jerk.

  Like it up there on your high horse?

  He had no idea what she’d been through in her life, he who’d been blessed from birth with parents and siblings who adored him. His family was still alive and together, and his biggest problem was that perhaps they loved him too much.

  Some problem.

  Not that she needed love in her life, she thought as she tugged at a stubborn vine. She didn’t want it, didn’t have time for it. Sure, maybe occasionally she was lonely and thought about how nice it would be to have someone waiting up for her, someone who cared about whether her day had been wonderful or not.

  But after she’d rebuilt her life and started climbing the corporate ladder, she’d never met anyone she’d considered important enough to divert her from her career. Maybe she was simply meant to be alone. She did have friends, after all, even if most of them were scattered across the globe. Such was the nature of her business. Still there were emails and phone calls and occasional visits. And she had Jenna close by.

  A thorn slashed her skin. She grabbed a clean rag out of her back jeans pocket and wrapped it until she could go inside and wash it off. It didn’t hurt that much.

  Not as much as knowing that Jenna considered her pathetic and in need of charity. That was no kind of friendship, and she wouldn’t allow it to continue.

  But she liked Jenna. Her friend was one of the reasons she’d come back to Austin after her career had gone down in flames. They’d met in a yoga class when she’d been posted to an Austin hotel two years ago, and Jenna’s warm, giving nature—obvious even in a yoga class—had appealed to Sophie. As Sophie got to know her, she admired Jenna’s drive to make the world a better place and her willingness to help anyone in need. During the scandal, Jenna had been her lifeline and had urged her to start over here in Austin.