The woman’s heels clattered on the plank floors. Too much makeup highlighted her rusty brown eyes. She flipped her straight, white-blonde hair over her shoulder in a haughty gesture. Curves bulged beneath the fabric of her too-tight dress.
“Do you know this woman?” Tess’s voice trembled.
Bailey draped an arm over his sister’s shoulders. The stranger stepped closer, a feral smile moving her hot pink lips. Nails in the same shade, long and pointed, adorned the hand she extended toward them.
“I’m Honey Campbell, Fritz’s niece. The owner of this ranch.”
Bailey glared at her hand. “Dad said you have no right to this property.”
One thin brow arched up. “And there’s a will to that effect?”
Bailey gulped. This nightmare was becoming all too real.
“I see.” She gazed around the room, clacking over to a bookshelf and fingering the Lennox crystal decanter and glasses. Fritz had given the set to MaryAnn as an anniversary gift. Sharing a drink had been their special way to unwind together on the overstuffed love seat that sat beside the window.
“I heard Fritz passed.” She whirled toward them. “Rude of you to make me learn about my uncle’s death through gossip.”
“We don’t know you.” Tess pressed quivering hands to her lips.
“You’re not welcome here.” Bailey stiffened. “I’ll show you out.”
“You’ll show me my ranch, foster brat. Then I’ll stay at that quaint B & B until the funeral. Which is when?”
“Thursday afternoon.” Tess’s voice was smaller now.
Bailey squeezed her against his side. His roiling stomach gushed acid into his throat. He would not let this woman take over. Dad promised the ranch would be theirs.
“I’ll show you around.” Bailey gestured toward the door.
Once the woman’s clicking footsteps retreated down the hall, he pressed his phone into Tess’s hand. “Text Jaz. Tell her it’s an emergency and will she please come.”
Even though her eyes were wide, Tess’s lips twitched into a smile. “I knew you liked her.”
Bailey closed his eyes. His heart sped at the thought of Jaz, but it wasn’t like that. “She’s helping me with something. That’s all.”
“You want her help in an emergency, that’s something.”
“Tess.”
His sister took the phone, which he unlocked with a four-digit code.
“My birthday? Still?” Tess’s laugh sounded tinny.
Bailey strode out of the room to find the intruder looking in the drawers of the master bedroom. He gritted his teeth to rein in the fury that pushed into his throat. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t snoop.”
Honey sniffed and gave him a prim look. “It’s not snooping when it’s mine.”
“That’s for the courts to decide.”
Her garish lips parted into a sneer. “My uncle never adopted you or your little sister. The courts will rule for a blood relative.”
A knife raked through his chest. He clenched his hands to keep from clutching it. “There’s adoption by estoppel.” He stabbed the intruder with a glower.
She froze, eyes narrowing. Without a word, she swept past him and clattered down the hallway.
Every moment in the kitchen felt like an hour. Her heavy perfume draped like a veil in the air, choking him as he followed her upstairs.
“How many bedrooms in this place?”
“Seven.” He’d been sleeping in what had been the parlor since Tess took the bedroom beside the master. She’d declared the five bedrooms upstairs were perfect for guest rooms once they added bathrooms.
“You will clean this clutter out before you leave.” She’d stopped beside an antique dresser with elegant scroll work. “But not this. I’ll mark the things I want left here.”
Bailey’s stomach bucked. He gripped the doorknob until it branded his palm. He gritted his teeth and glanced out the window, wishing for escape.
An age later, Honey clambered down the porch steps, gripping his arm with her claw-like nails. His gut churned.
She stopped on the threshold to his dad’s workshop. The sign he and Tess had been working on lay across two sawhorses. The rustic wooden planks were burnt around the edges. “Travers Guest Ranch” it read, and the double-bar T brand was burned into the boards beneath the name.
“What’s this? A little business venture?” She turned a hard gaze on him. “You don’t seem the type.”
He stiffened. “Tess has a degree in hospitality, and she’s worked several different resorts.”
An eyebrow arched. She stepped closer to the sign, her spiky heel catching in the cracks between planks in the floor. She stumbled and righted herself on the sign.
“This is rustic. Fits the place.” She tapped a nail against her lower lip.
Sweat prickled his scalp. Her expression made his skin crawl.
“Maybe you won’t have to move out. If we go ahead with this guest ranch, you two could be the on-sight managers.”
The guest ranch was Tess’s plan, and they weren’t sharing it with this interloper. But before he settled on a comeback, she tiptoed across the floor and out toward the barn.
As the barn door squawked open, the barn dogs lunged forward. Both backed away at the sight of the stranger. Or maybe they were terrified of the shoes. If she stepped on a paw, it would make being crucified look painless.
The golden lab slouched backward, his ruff rising. The shepherd gave the stranger a wide berth and came to slobber on Bailey’s boots.
“The tax records indicate there’s eighty-five acres here. How much livestock?” Her nose wrinkled as she peeked into the nearest stall.
Tax records? How long had she been gathering information?
She stumbled along the passage toward the feed and tack rooms. The pitch of her voice grated as she asked other questions, but Bailey was done. He didn’t want to pretend he was okay with her assumption of ownership.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. The dogs circled like vultures, but he hadn’t grabbed any treats. He stared toward the road, searching for a telltale rumble of dust. But only the puffs stirred by the wind churned as far as he could see.
“I have questions.”
He straightened his hat and stared into her face. “I just lost my dad. This isn’t the best time for giving tours of the ranch.”
Her lips curled. “It’s about to be time for you to move off my property. If you don’t want to work with me—”
He held up a hand. “Can we put this off for a day or two? Until after the funeral?”
The thin brows rose. “Time won’t change the facts.”
Time to search for the will or an attorney who knew about one was all he had on his side. He squeezed his arms more tightly across his chest to keep from shaking sense into the woman.
“Thank you for giving us a few days to process our loss.”
She huffed. Her ankle twisted on the rough ground as she tried to stomp her way to the white Jeep parked behind Tess’s car.
He glanced up in time to see his sister duck out of the upstairs window. The Jeep revved and bounced down the drive.
Time to convince his sister they had nothing to worry about.
Please, God, don’t let it be a lie.
* * *
When Bailey brought her car by on Sunday afternoon, Jaz heard all about Honey Campbell. Things weren’t looking up, and her heart plummeted into her stomach at missing the call for help.
“You have more right to it than her.” Electricity tingled across her fingertips as Jaz gripped his forearm. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
Cliché, but true.
Monday, she drove her repaired car to Austin for an interview with Boldt and Associates. The partners were brothers who liked employing veterans. After a smooth interview, they offered her the job and piled her up with documents outlining their tuition reimbursement programs and a host of other benefits.
As she pulle
d out of the parking structure, she cursed herself for not accepting the job. Two weeks until they needed her to start, and she had no reason to wait until Friday to give them an answer.
Broad shoulders, blue eyes, and a grin that gave her a heart attack vaulted into her mind. The salty taste of Saturday’s kiss still stung her tongue.
She wasn’t a teenager who could be befuddled by physical attraction, and she wasn’t ready for it to be more than that. Surely losing her military career taught her to be cautious before loving a man.
It’s too soon to love Bailey Travers. The Drew connection was confusing her.
Her heart pretzeled into her backbone. Her brother had been gone so long, and she’d been lost without him. Now Bailey filled that space.
Their kisses burned into her mind. That soul-scorching lip-lock in the kitchen? It felt nothing like kissing her brother.
Her cell phone vibrated in the cup holder where she always tossed it. She slowed and glanced toward the lit screen. Deena, co-captain of the Longhorns back in the day, had been emailing her about helping the softball team.
Jaz signaled and turned into the next parking lot. The phone finished its fourth ring at the same moment she answered it.
“Hey girl.”
“Jaz! Didn’t you say you were in Austin for a job interview today?”
“Done.”
“Why don’t you join me at softball practice?”
A long-silent cheering squad raised a racket inside her chest. Drew and softball were her two loves.
“Sounds fun.” She licked her lips. “Why?”
“I might have some good news.” Deena paused. “But it all hinges on how you swing the bat.”
Jaz laughed. “Didn’t I tell you I’ve been hitting with the team from my high school alma mater?”
“Hitting a high school pitcher is one thing.”
Her lips hurt from the stretch of her smile. “Be there soon.”
“Practice is at three.”
Jaz ended the call, and then dialed her mother’s phone to let her know she wouldn’t be home until late.
“How was the interview?” Her mom’s interest was clear.
“Great. I’m heading to UT to reconnect with some people.” Jaz debated telling her about the offer, but she wanted to get to the college.
With help from the map app on her phone, she determined her best course to the university.
As she pulled into traffic, she sensed she’d found the right path. One that led to her future purpose.
* * *
Hours later, sweat and dust mingled on her skin. Jaz slipped into her car, glancing at her phone. A notification on her lock screen stopped her.
Found the papers.
Her heart floated higher, choking off her air. She closed her eyes, willing the feeling to pass.
Today proved she belonged in Austin. Bailey was fighting hard to keep his family ranch in Sweet Grove. As much as she connected with him, she wasn’t ready to make concessions for another man.
After she drove through a burger place she’d frequented often during college, Jaz turned her car toward Sweet Grove. She made short work of the chicken strips and fries, and slurped the iced tea until the ice rattled at her.
On the highway, she maneuvered to the slow lane and pulled up her recent call list. She pushed the icon to redial Bailey.
“Hey.” A single word spoken in his smooth baritone increased her heart rate. The man was like an instant cardio workout. But not good for her heart in other ways.
“What’d you find?”
“Are you home?”
They spoke at the same time. Her phone coughed up static.
“I’m driving. You’re on speaker.”
“Oh.” Tires spinning on pavement filled the silence. “I thought your interview was early.”
She couldn’t dampen her excitement as she told him about her afternoon hitting softballs and talking to the coaching staff. “They’re looking for someone to help with practices. It wouldn’t pay much, but the hours wouldn’t interfere with the paralegal job.”
After a pause, he asked, “So the interview went well?”
“They offered me the job.”
Silence answered. It went on long enough for her fingers to start twitching on the wheel.
“When do you start?” Was she imagining the cooling in his tone of voice?
“I haven’t accepted it.”
“Why not?”
That was the real question. The pay, benefits, and hours fit her ideal future, and she couldn’t wait to get out of her parents’ home. Why not jump at this position?
The greasy food congealed in her gut, and a cramp seized her. She didn’t want to consider the reasons too closely.
“I like thinking things through.”
His sigh sent a knife through her chest. “But you will.”
After a few swallows, once she was certain her voice would be even, she said, “What did you find?”
“The adoption papers.”
His voice flooded the interior of the car as he explained how Tess had been cleaning one of the rooms upstairs. Apparently their foster mom had stacks of fabric and crates of yarn. Buried on a cabinet filled with patterns was the envelope from the attorney’s office.
“Did you call?”
“By the time I got home, the office was closed.”
But they could call tomorrow. Her breathing shallowed. If they found a will, he wouldn’t need her anymore. Pain stabbed the small of her back.
He needed her. That’s why she was attracted to him. She’d been a throwaway to her father and the captain. But Bailey needed her, and he had given her purpose.
The lawyers at the new firm would need her, and so would the coaches at UT. The new purpose she’d been seeking waved at her from Austin.
Her heart and stomach wrung together like rags stuck beneath the agitator.
“I’ll call in the morning.” His words pulled her back.
She needed to make her own calls. The time to move on had come.
“Keep me posted.” The clip of her words made her cringe. It wasn’t his fault she couldn’t stay.
“Later.” Melancholy laced the single word, and then he was gone.
Heaviness pressed into her nose and blurred her eyes. She blinked, pulling to the shoulder to end the call and start some music that would take her mind off those deep blue eyes and tender kisses.
God, take away these emotions.
The tears dried, but the specter of Bailey remained.
9
On Thursday afternoon, a crowd milled inside the entrance to the funeral home. Flowers scented the air with sweet, heavy syrup that coated a person’s throat. Jaz tried not to wrinkle her nose as she squeezed between Jack and Maisie Bryant.
A woman whose makeup caked into fine lines around her eyes and mouth blocked the path to the guest book. Bleached hair sprayed stiff to mimic Heather Locklear’s style never moved with her many gestures. Her shrill voice grated against Jaz’s eardrums.
Fritz Travers’ niece held court like some sort of princess. Sweet Grove had lost one of its own, and the inheritance-stealer soaked up the town’s condolences like they belonged to her.
The woman had probably never even met the uncle she claimed to mourn.
Jaz circled the back of the clot of well-wishers and hurried through the chapel doors. People milled around the few rows of walnut pews. Murmuring voices blended with the instrumental hymns piped through unobtrusive speakers. She glanced toward the curtained family room where Pastor Bernie and his wife stood with Bailey and Tess.
A black jacket stretched across Bailey’s broad shoulders. His fingers fumbled at the knotted tie around his neck. The pale blue shirt beneath it matched the sweater Tess wore over a navy sundress.
Jaz gripped the back of the nearest pew to steady herself. The man looked good in grass-stained Wranglers, but in a suit, he could stop traffic. Or her heart.
Tess glanced up and smiled. It was a wobbly e
xpression. She waved Jaz over, and Jaz couldn’t deny the girl anything when her face looked ready to crumple.
A moment later, Bailey’s gaze snagged hers, and she almost tripped over her feet. Breath stalled in her chest where her heart palpitated at top speed. The tension in his jaw relaxed.
She slid between Tess and Tabitha Olson. Jaz squeezed Tess’s hand while greeting the pastor and his wife.
“Are you hiding in here?”
Tess shrugged.
Bailey’s eyes narrowed. “Avoiding Honey Campbell. Yep.”
Bernie Olson squeezed Bailey’s shoulder. “No matter what she says, the town supports you two. Fritz’s kids.”
Bailey nodded, and Tess leaned into Tabitha’s embrace. While the women hugged, Bailey slid behind his sister and wove his fingers through Jaz’s.
Warmth from his skin melted the iciness that had formed at the sight of Honey. Jaz peeked at him. Anxiety lurked in his expressive eyes. Her fingers tightened, and she pressed into his side. The thrilling tingles at the contact shouldn’t be allowed at a funeral.
Once the Olsons left, Tess whirled toward Bailey. Her chilled fingers gripped Jaz’s elbow, and she grabbed her brother in the same manner. “Tell me she’s lying through her teeth.” The whispered hiss crawled along Jaz’s spine like a lazy snake.
Bailey clenched her hand. Jaz hugged Tess with her free arm. She whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle that money-grubbing pretender.”
Tears clung to Tess’s lashes, but she nodded as the women broke apart.
“Sit with us?”
Jaz straightened. “I’m not family.”
“We want you to sit with us. Don’t we, Lee?” Tess’s knuckles appeared white against her brother’s dark jacket.
Bailey’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
“It would send the wrong message.” Jaz tugged her hand free from his. “I’ll see you after.”
The background music ended, signaling the start of the service. Honey Campbell hustled through the door from the foyer into the family alcove, and Jaz slashed the woman with visual daggers before squeezing beside Elise on the back pew.
Love's Lingering Doubts (Love's Texas Homecoming Boo 1; First Street Church #9) Page 7
