A Texas Chance

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A Texas Chance Page 6

by Jean Brashear


  “I appreciate you saying that. Clearly your gift for seeing beyond the expected isn’t restricted to exotic locations and wild animals.”

  “I don’t know about that....”

  “That picture,” she said, “of the gazelle stumbling…do you remember it?”

  He gazed down at her. “I remember all of them.”

  “The writers who do the text for your photos must be in heaven when they’re assigned to your work. You always give them something fresh to write about, something powerful. Unforgettable.” Her green eyes were warm with admiration.

  He had to look away. He might not ever give them a story again, and it was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out that he’d lost that inner knowing. “The writers would say that my photos were the accompaniment to their stories.”

  “They’d be wrong. I don’t see their work hanging in galleries or museums.”

  He grinned past the ache in his chest. She made that ache ease a little, at least as long as he was willing to live in the past. The coward’s way.

  Abruptly he wasn’t eager to talk about photography anymore. “So after I get this cleared, what’s next?”

  She frowned. “I told you I didn’t need your help. I have a landscaper coming soon.”

  “Then why are you doing his work?”

  “I had to trim the budget, so I offered to do some of his prep work. If Jenna insisted that you help—”

  “Jenna doesn’t know I’m still here. She did tell me, though, that if I made you unhappy, I could expect a skillet upside the head when she got home.”

  They shared a moment of amusement.

  “She doesn’t mean it,” Sophie said.

  “Bet me. That girl can be meaner than a snake.”

  Sophie laughed, and the happy sound stopped him in his tracks.

  “Call any of my brothers if you doubt my word.” He shrugged. “Though to be fair, we usually deserve it.” He watched the smile as it lingered on that beautiful mouth of hers. He didn’t like that she tugged at him, that he was powerfully tempted to grab a taste of her.

  Besides, they were actually getting along for a few minutes, and yielding to that particular impulse would wreck that. “I called about our dog,” he said.

  “My dog.” Her eyes snapped.

  “We’ll see. Anyway, the surgery was over, and he came through fine. Still out for the count, though. Wanna go visit him later?”

  The line between her brows deepened as she looked around. “There’s so much to do.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Everyone needs a break—even you, Queenie.”

  “I’ve decided to ignore that horrid name. You’ll get tired of using it at some point.”

  “Doubt it. It’s growing on me.”

  Her eyes went to slits. “I have to get back to work.” She touched his forearm. “You really should stop. Or take a break yourself.”

  “Last time I looked, my mother was six hundred miles away. I know my limits.”

  “Are you just doing this because you know I don’t want you to be here?”

  “Nope, that’s a bonus.” He studied the dark circles beneath her eyes that hadn’t been so visible in the moonlight last night. “Look, you need help. I’m restless. It’s been years since I took time off, and I’m no good at it. I have to be active. And believe it or not, Jenna’s not the only one in the family who cares about lending a helping hand to a friend.”

  “We’re not friends.”

  “You got too many of them?”

  Shadows crossed her eyes. “No.” Her gaze sharpened. “But this is my hotel and my problem. I don’t rely on other people.”

  “No kidding.” He softened his words with a smile. “Me, either. But I could use the exercise. Walking on a treadmill at the physical therapist’s is boring as hell.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself, and then Jenna will have that skillet out after me.”

  “I can’t take new shots for you,” he blurted. “This is the only thing I can offer.” It was only fair to warn her.

  “I didn’t ask you to. I would never be so presumptuous,” she said stiffly.

  Damn it. He’d offended her prickly pride. But he was not going to explain. “I’m sorry. How about we have dinner tonight. I’ll drag out my laptop and you can decide on which of the images you want to use.” He could stand that, surely. He had to learn to. “I’ve taken thousands of pictures no one has seen.”

  “That sounds like it could take a while.”

  “Then give me the tour, talk to me about what you have in mind and I’ll cull through the files on my own, since time is not exactly your ally right now.” He hesitated. “Though you do get that artists don’t much like their work being chosen because the colors match the room, right?”

  “Cade, I told you I don’t need your photographs. I don’t want your photographs. And I don’t want you here. You’ve got to go. Now.”

  He really should stop for the day, anyway, but she got his back up ordering him around. He wanted to be useful. Needed to. Weird and unusual as the word need was for him to use or feel. “Look.” He exhaled in a gust. “We both care about Jenna, right?”

  She nodded cautiously.

  “And Jenna has her heart set on us working together.” An idea hit him, and he shook his head. “I don’t know why it took me this long to realize that if she’s been playing me on your account, telling me this sob story, she’s probably also drafted you to help out poor Cade who nearly died. Am I right?”

  Sophie looked distinctly uncomfortable but said nothing.

  He slapped his cap against his thigh. “That little…” He couldn’t help but laugh. “I should have seen it coming a mile away. I mean, Zane and Jesse and I had a bet going that she was up to something, but I just thought she was…” His voice trailed off as caution reared its head. “Never mind.”

  “You just thought what?”

  “Nope. Not sticking that foot in my mouth.”

  She studied him for a long minute. Then her face cleared and her mouth curved. “You thought she was setting us up. As a couple, I mean.” She shook her head slowly. “Oh, Jenna…”

  He shouldn’t feel so insulted. “Is it so incomprehensible? I mean, you’re gorgeous and I…well, I don’t clean up so bad.”

  “You think I’m gorgeous?”

  He scanned her head to toe and back up. “I may have been injured, but my eyes weren’t.”

  Her cheeks went red. “I’ll have to consider that,” she said.

  “Consider what? Whether you’re interested?”

  It was her turn for the slow once-over. But she remained silent.

  “You’re interested, all right.” He nodded in satisfaction. “And so am I.”

  “It couldn’t go anywhere.”

  “Who says it needs to?” Cade wasn’t accustomed to talking women into wanting him. “Or is it that you think I can’t pass muster, Queenie?” His grin widened. “I could have you boneless in my bed, so sexually satisfied you might not move for a very long time.”

  One dark eyebrow arched. “Oh, really? Well, maybe I would have you begging first.”

  “Oh, babe.” He hadn’t been with anyone since his fall, and he was just now realizing how long that had been. “You are on.” Sex wouldn’t fix his problems, but it could sure take his mind off them.

  “On for what?”

  He stuck out a hand. “How about a bet?”

  “Bet?”

  “A friendly wager. Let’s see who caves first.”

  She looked intrigued, but then she shook her head. “I don’t have time to fool around right now, Cade.”

  “Honey, everyone has time for great sex. It’ll recharge your batteri
es. You’ll sleep better. And you’ve got an extra set of hands here now. Hell, I’ll call in my brothers if need be.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Your brothers would come work on my hotel for the sake of your sex life?”

  He gaped. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t saying…” He shut up. Hell, the family was so concerned about him, they actually might do such a thing. But hell would freeze over before he’d get within a mile of that topic.

  “Save your bet, Casanova. If we have sex, it will be with full understanding that no emotions are involved, that it’s just a fling. And it will be at the time and place of my choosing.”

  He laughed out loud. “Oh, Queenie…” His grin widened. “Honey, you just keep thinking that.” But he hastened to agree. “I mean, yeah, only a fling, definitely. I’ll be gone soon and I don’t do long-term.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Well, good.” He frowned. Somehow the sentiment sounded vaguely insulting coming from her. It was exactly what he wanted, of course, but…the woman gave him a headache.

  “I still like a nice, clean bet,” he complained.

  “Too bad. I don’t have one single dime to spare,” she said, and started to walk away.

  “There are other things to wager besides money,” he called after her. Then he noticed a couple of workmen grinning at them.

  And Queenie’s back going ramrod straight.

  “Oh, hell.” He was usually smoother than this. Maybe not Zane-smooth, but he could hold his own.

  Cade slapped his cap on his head and shoved his hands back in his work gloves. Women were so blasted much trouble. And what man understood them, anyway?

  Before he went back to the weeds, though, he turned to watch her walk away. Damned if that woman didn’t have a body on her.

  Unfortunately a razor-sharp mind and endless supply of stubbornness were part of the package.

  He’d finish up, then go check on their dog.

  Who’d probably be a lot happier to see him.

  As he bent to rip out a root, he realized he’d already won one battle with her—she’d tacitly agreed to let him continue working today. It was only a matter of time before he won the war.

  SHE SHOULDN’T BE USING so much water since every penny counted, but oh, how good the hot shower felt on her abused muscles. Sophie let the water beat down on her shoulders, tilting her head this way and that to ease the strain of too much time spent beneath the dining room table applying tung oil.

  The area she was calling the gathering room was going to be gorgeous, an open space where a large area of comfy sofas and chairs flowed into the dining area, where the guests would be treated to breakfasts they would never forget. The spread would bear no resemblance to the sad, standardized fare most chains had no choice but to utilize. Hers would continue the theme of home away from home, featuring a full country breakfast prepared to order—not one warming tray in sight—or for those who wanted lighter fare, she’d have seasonal fruits chosen each day for their freshness, hot breads made that very morning, coffee from beans ground as each pot was prepared and special teas made locally by a woman who was even now creating a Hotel Serenity blend.

  The dining room had an outside wall with three seven-foot-tall windows that rose from floor level, designed so that a person could walk right through. Those opened onto a section of the deep porch, and guests could dine there, as well. But inside or out, all would have a view of the pergola she’d decided would perfectly complement the cutting garden. Beneath the pergola, as well as scattered along the deep porch, would be willow furniture with thick, sink-into-me cushions.

  She was determined to give her guests the full experience of a gracious old home, but with casual comfort and modern conveniences. Though finding space to accommodate everything required for abundant hot water, ample wiring and energy-efficient air-conditioning hadn’t been easy to do while maintaining the look of one hundred fifty years of history.

  She had to marvel at how on earth people had survived living in Central Texas before air-conditioning. Sophie tried to imagine wearing a long skirt, long sleeves and petticoats in this heat. Or high-collared shirts with cravats.

  Luckily, because Cade had accomplished so much outside, she’d been freed up to go indoors to finish oiling the table. Cade. She’d accepted his help on the grounds today because he seemed to need the activity and Jenna was so worried about him. It was only for one day, though.

  She shut off the water and stepped from the shower, deeply grateful for the ceiling fan whirring overhead.

  She glanced at the clock. Did she still have time to make it to the vet’s? She could come back and finish oiling the furniture later. Even though sparing the time wasn’t in her schedule, he was her dog.

  No matter what Cade insisted.

  Rusty. How unimaginative for a dog whose hair was a few shades more auburn than her own.

  Skeeter was kind of cute, though. Not that she’d ever tell Cade.

  But she’d have to get better acquainted with her dog—imagine that, a dog of her own—before choosing a name.

  Her phone rang. She glanced at the display. Maura.

  Her spirits lifted for once—she had something fun to talk about this time. She wouldn’t be pretending. “Hi, Maura. Guess what? I have a dog.”

  Silence. “A…what?”

  Sophie laughed. “I know. My, how things have changed, right?” In her past life, travel had been a constant. She’d never tried to take care of so much as a goldfish. Didn’t even think herself a pet person.

  “I must have the wrong number.”

  “My life just keeps changing.”

  “But you sound…good, Sophie. Alive.”

  “A lot has been happening. I’m not sure what to do about the newest development.”

  “The dog?”

  “No, um… I mean, yes, that’s new for me, right?”

  “It certainly is. What kind of dog?”

  “An Irish setter.”

  “Oh, they’re beautiful. Is it a puppy?”

  “No, he’s probably five or six, the vet says. I found him on the road. He was hurt, but a…someone else helped me find a vet to treat him.”

  “Someone else? A male someone?”

  Sophie hesitated.

  “You said a lot had been happening. Is there a man involved, my Sophie? Come on, spill.” Sophie could easily envision Maura slipping off her shoes, settling in for a story.

  “He’s not—it’s not…it’s strictly business. Though I don’t think it’s going to work out, actually.”

  Cade had certainly seemed insistent about providing photos, however—just not new ones.

  “You’re going to throw out a teaser like that, then leave me hanging? Talk to me, doll.”

  “Um…I’ve met Cade MacAllister—you know, the photographer?”

  “Cade MacAllister? My, my. Well, good for you. It’s been too long since you and Kurt—”

  “That’s not what I mean.” The only thing Sophie wanted to discuss less than Kurt Barnstone was Cade as a man.

  “He’s an astonishing talent, no question, but I’ve seen a photo of him. You’re going to tell me he’s not one very fine specimen of man?”

  “It’s not like that, Maura.” I could have you boneless in my bed…

  “Sweetie, you’ve been working too hard, clearly.”

  Sophie shook her head, grateful her fiery cheeks couldn’t be seen through a phone. “I’m only interested in his work.”

  “Oh, dear,” Maura said. “You’re in worse shape than I thought.”

  “Would you stop it? My focus is entirely on making this hotel a success.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll behave.” The smile in her voice came through. “So what’s the dea
l with his work?”

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up because it’s not set in stone, but…well, there’s a possibility that I may be able to hang some of his photos in the guest rooms.”

  “Are you serious? How on earth did you manage that? That would be an absolute coup.”

  “I know.” Sophie resisted the urge to do a happy dance, reminding herself that a lot of things could go wrong. “His sister has become a very dear friend of mine, and the idea was hers. I didn’t see any way I could afford him, but…he’s here.”

  “He’s there? Then why on earth are you talking to me?”

  “Not here right now, but he’s in town and he’s…well, he spent the day working on the grounds.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s crazy, right? Did you hear about his climbing accident? He was badly injured and he can’t go back on the road yet, so Jenna—that’s his sister—brought him over and, well, somehow he just started clearing out vines and…it sounds insane, I know.” She glanced at the clock. Crap. She had to leave now to make it the vet’s. “Maura, I’m sorry, but my dog, well, sort of our dog, is recuperating at the vet’s and I need to go see how he’s doing.”

  “Our dog?”

  “Um…mine and…Cade’s. He’s mine, really, but Cade is very…hardheaded. But I really do have to go.”

  “And you think you’re just going to waltz off and leave me with a million questions?”

  Guilt struck. “I’m sorry, Maura, it’s just…”

  Maura chuckled. “I’m kidding, Sophie. I mean, my curiosity is definitely killing me, but it is wonderful to hear you sound…flustered.”

 

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