Lone Star Legacy Read online

  Someone tapped on her shoulder, and Joel suddenly released her.

  “Dinner’s on the table.” Their waitress gave them an I-know-what-you’ll-be-doing-later smirk as she turned away.

  Had she been that obvious? Had Joel? Although she’d been embarrassed at the town dance a month before, now she felt something different unfurling in her heart. Hope. Longing. Desire.

  Reality came crashing back a heartbeat later.

  What was she thinking, letting herself imagine a deepening relationship with anyone? She’d trusted Patrick with all her heart, and she’d never had a clue about what he’d been up to. The price of her naiveté had been her home, security and marriage. How could she ever be sure she wasn’t making the same mistake twice?

  AN ENDLESS RIBBON of asphalt unfolded in front of Joel’s truck headlights, flat and straight, on the way back to his ranch.

  “So, what did you think of the Horseshoe Falls place?” He slid a glance at her, a dimple deepening in his cheek as his teeth flashed white in the darkness. “Meet your expectations?”

  Their conversation had been comfortable over dinner. Innocuous. But now, his sidelong glance sent a tingle of awareness dancing along Beth’s skin, and definitely did tingly things to her toes. It took her a moment to find her voice. “It was average. Decent, unremarkable steaks. An adequate salad bar. The dinner rolls might’ve been from the local grocery. They weren’t memorable, but they were okay.”

  He laughed. “Damned by faint praise.”

  “No, really. It was all fine,” Beth said quickly, suddenly embarrassed by her own lack of grace. “I did appreciate the invitation, and I truly enjoyed having this evening out.”

  “This was research, remember? Don’t worry about being honest.” Again, she saw the white flash of his teeth when he smiled. “And just for the record, your café has that one beat all to heck. Much better food. Pleasant, wholesome ambiance. It’s not one of a million steak houses that are all alike.”

  Beth folded her arms across her midsection. “I still don’t get Tracy’s comment about turning my café into a warehouse. She knows I’ve been working hard at bringing the place back to life, and we’re certainly not competing for the same customers. Why would she say that?”

  “Just a show of arrogance, maybe.” He gazed pensively at the road ahead, one hand on the top curve of the steering wheel.

  At the hint of bitterness in his voice, Beth twisted in her seat a few degrees and studied his resolute profile. “Sounds like the voice of experience. What happened?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Um…anything to do with your job in Detroit?”

  His shoulder lifted almost imperceptibly.

  She gave him a teasing bump with her elbow. “C’mon—I’ve told you more secrets than I’ve told anyone else. Did you have to deal with someone like Tracy?”

  “Nope.” He fell silent for so long that she assumed he wasn’t going to say any more. “It was me.”

  It took a minute for his words to register. “You?”

  “And my arrogance got someone killed.”

  Startled, Beth sucked in a sharp breath, and suddenly wished she hadn’t asked.

  “I shouldn’t have been undercover, given what had just happened in my life, but I said I was the only one who could handle it.” His voice held a raw edge of pain and guilt. “I insisted, and I was wrong.”

  The rigid set of his jaw telegraphed a message to back off. She watched a few hundred ghostly fence posts fly by on either side of the highway before she finally ignored his silent warning and listened to her heart. “What happened?”

  Joel didn’t respond for five long minutes, then he sighed heavily. “I didn’t react fast enough…didn’t see the warning signs. An informant was shot.” He swore under his breath, his voice bitter. “It was a needless, tragic death.”

  “But you didn’t pull the trigger.”

  “Maybe not.” He leveled a hard look at her before looking back at the highway. “But I should have kept that person safe, and I didn’t. So that was the end of my career.”

  “But that’s unfair!”

  “Unfair? Not when everything goes to hell, and the only one you can blame is yourself.” He gave a humorless laugh. “But I didn’t ‘lose my career,’ according to my boss. He’s been calling, asking me to end my leave early and come back. It would just take something monumental for me to ever change my mind.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THERE’D BEEN A MOMENT on the dance floor when Beth had fallen under Joel’s spell. When she’d imagined doing a lot more than just a Texas two-step in a crowded bar.

  In the dark intimacy of his pickup on the way back to his house, she’d breathed in his subtle, sensual aftershave—probably Stetson—and had been all too aware of the sheer size of him—the broad shoulders, and the bulk of his biceps. The lean, strong curve of his jaw.

  But it was his past that truly touched her heart, the guilt and anger he felt over a needless death. She wondered if he knew just how much he’d revealed in the ragged edge of his voice or the bleak expression in his eyes. Ever since, she’d been mulling over his words, I shouldn’t have been undercover, given what had just happened in my life.

  She’d inadvertently opened old wounds, and since then he’d been pensive, the expressive lines of his face etched deep with old sadness. Instinct told her to just let it be. But she couldn’t—not when she sensed such inestimable grief. “What happened, Joel?”

  His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

  She waited a while, then added softly, “Sometimes it helps to talk about things.”

  “Really.” His harsh laugh sliced through the silence. “Tell me how that makes a difference.”

  “I…just feel really bad for you.” She angled a look at him. A muscle ticked at the side of his jaw, and his mouth had settled into a grim line. “I’ve had a few rough times myself, when I could’ve used a friend.”

  When he finally spoke, his voice was low and raw. “Tell me how that can bring back someone you love. It can’t.”

  He slowed and signaled for a left-hand turn. A few miles later, he slid a glance at her. “You want to know what happened? I stayed home one afternoon so my wife could run errands. Our baby daughter was napping…and never woke up.”

  Beth tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

  “SIDS, the docs said. They said it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but I’ll never believe it. I train in CPR every year. If I’d checked on her sooner, I could’ve saved her.”

  “I was terrified over SIDS when Sophie was a baby. I read a lot of studies, Joel. They all said that—”

  “I don’t believe them. If I hadn’t put her down for a nap right then, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. If I’d been in the room, I could’ve done something.”

  “Your wife—”

  “Totally agreed with me. Two weeks later, she moved out. Six months later she filed for divorce.”

  So he’d lost his entire family, and still shouldered the entire blame. She reached over to lay a hand on his forearm, wishing she could take him in her arms and share part of his burden, but his face was a granite, resolute mask. He gently released her hold on his arm. “I figured I could just lose myself in my career, but that was yet another incredible mistake.”

  “But none of this was your fault.”

  “Please—I know you mean well. But don’t demean me with platitudes, because they don’t change a thing.”

  She recoiled, biting back a sharp reply. He was an honorable man, a strong and determined protector whose tragedies had undoubtedly rocked his deepest beliefs about himself. And no matter what she said, she knew he wouldn’t accept that he wasn’t to blame. “I’m so sorry, Joel,” she said quietly. “About everything.”

  He pulled to a stop in front of Gina’s house, but just sat there with a wrist draped over the top of the steering wheel. Silvery moonlight painted the lines and angles of his face in sharp relief. “I’m just not cut out
for commitment—not to a woman, not a family—not even in my old career. If nothing else, I learned that much.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I want you to drop this discussion. Okay?”

  He was wrong, but she knew it wouldn’t help to argue…at least not now. “I’ll run in to get Sophie,” she murmured. “I’ll be right back.”

  AFTER THEY PICKED UP SOPHIE, they’d driven out to his place in near silence, with her daughter asleep in her car seat and Joel pensively watching the road ahead.

  Once they arrived, he helped her bring Sophie inside, but then he’d disappeared into his office. Now it was after midnight, Sophie was sound asleep on her bed, and the mild headache that had started a few hours earlier was throbbing.

  Beth quietly closed Sophie’s door, leaving it slightly ajar, and headed for the kitchen, her path lit by ribbons of moonlight streaming through the windows.

  At the door of Joel’s office she paused, then pressed two fingers against the partly closed door.

  The room was dark, save for the dim glow of a desk lamp and the soft, pulsing glow of the last embers in the fireplace. He sat in a high-backed chair facing the hearth, a nearly full bottle of Jim Beam on the floor at his side and a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

  “Joel?” She whispered his name, unsure if he was asleep, then stepped farther into the room.

  He rolled his head against the back of the chair to look at her, weariness etched in the deep lines bracketing his mouth. “Is Sophie all right?”

  “Sleeping soundly. I think she and Gina’s daughter wore themselves out playing.”

  His brow furrowed. “What about you?”

  “In search of aspirin, actually. Do you mind…”

  “The cupboard above the kitchen sink.” He rose smoothly and put his glass down on a stack of papers on his desk. “Hang on and I’ll get it for you.”

  “I can do it. Really—”

  “Be right back.” He disappeared out into the hallway.

  Curious, she turned slowly and took in the oak paneled room, with bookshelves filling two walls to the ceiling, and an expansive desk. A more intimate and cozy version of the rest of the house, it was clearly designed for a man’s comfort, from the big leather desk chair to the two heavily upholstered chairs by the fireplace.

  Joel returned with a bottle of aspirin, shook a couple of tablets into her hand, and gave her a glass of water. “Bad one?”

  “This should catch it. I never should’ve had wine with supper.” She gestured toward the shelves with the glass, trying to fill a sudden, awkward silence. “Did all those books come with the house, too?” At the faint lift of his mouth, she realized how patronizing her words sounded. “I mean—you said it was furnished, and…”

  He rescued her from her floundering with a half smile. “Mine, I’m afraid. I’m just glad to finally have enough space for most of them.”

  Another side of him she hadn’t seen. The books were an eclectic mix, from classics to thrillers to coffee-table books on art, with a few shelves of Terry C. Johnston’s westerns. She leaned close and trailed a finger along their spines. “I loved these.”

  “They make the old west and the Teton Mountains come alive, don’t they?”

  She rambled on for a few minutes about the books, then glanced at the clock and drew in a sharp breath. “Sorry—I’m keeping you awake, and it’s late.”

  He shrugged off her apology. “No problem. I would’ve been up anyway.”

  He was utterly compelling in the dim light, the planes and angles of his face cast in sharp relief and his dark eyes shadowed by his long, thick lashes. Too compelling.

  She pivoted toward the door. “Thanks for a lovely evening. And again, for letting Sophie and me stay here for a while.”

  “Beth.”

  He spoke her name softly, his voice warming her skin and sending her blood thrumming through her veins at the instant remembrance of dancing in his arms tonight. Did he want something more? Did she?

  She looked over her shoulder. Wanting him to move forward and take her into his arms one more time.

  Half-afraid that he would.

  And afraid that he wouldn’t, because nothing had felt as good for a long, long time, and maybe both of them could use the comfort of an embrace, if nothing else.

  He held out the aspirin. “Take the bottle. You might want more later.”

  She accepted it, praying the warmth rising in her face wasn’t visible in the darkened room…and definitely hoping that he hadn’t read her thoughts.

  Two weeks.

  Just two more weeks, and the café security system would be fully installed, and then she and Sophie could move back. By then, the Realtor might even have some prospective buyers lined up, and this chapter of her life could come to a close.

  The sooner the better, too—before she completely embarrassed herself over someone she could never have.

  BETH PADLOCKED the backyard gates, released Viper from her travel cage and reached down to lift Sophie for a twirl in the air.

  Sophie laughed and scampered off to the swing set as soon as Beth set her down. “Watch me, Momma!”

  The little dog raced after her, then took a flying tour of the perimeter of the yard, barking at grasshoppers and birds before settling down like a fierce, miniature black sphinx to watch Sophie.

  It had been a full week since Beth and Joel went to the restaurant in Horseshoe Falls. A good week, in most respects.

  There’d been no more problems with crank calls or other troubles.

  Her noon business had been climbing steadily.

  And after next week, when she and Sophie could move back to their apartment above the café, she could easily start the breakfast hours once again.

  The local Realtor was busy, as well. She’d been over to take dozens of photographs, and promised the café’s listing would be up on her Web site this week. Which was a very good thing, Beth reminded herself sharply whenever she started having doubts.

  They’d come more often lately.

  And now, watching Sophie swing in the shade of the massive live oak filled her with a sense of home and connectedness that she certainly hadn’t felt at the pretentious house she’d just sold back in Illinois, or the overpriced house they’d owned before that one.

  The apartment over the café was sweet and cozy, its windows looking out into the branches of the surrounding trees, its fanciful windows and steeply pitched ceilings adding a fairy-tale air.

  And then there was Joel.

  Sharing his house had been awkward at first; each of them carefully observing unseen boundaries; each of them superficially polite and distant. But in the last few days that awkwardness had faded into the easy camaraderie they shared elsewhere. She smiled to herself, remembering their conversation last night out on his porch swing.

  They’d watched the stars. Listened to coyotes howl and the ghostly call of distant owls. And they’d talked until almost two in the morning about everything and nothing, until the grandfather clock in the living room sounded through the screened windows.

  There was deepening friendship, but there was also something more…an unspoken, growing awareness that she sensed with every encounter.

  She bent to snap a few dead blooms from the massive geraniums flanking the back porch steps, then straightened and surveyed her yard. She caught a flicker of movement across the street. “Joel?”

  She turned, smiling, but it wasn’t Joel. It was someone in the shadows—bulkier, with rounded shoulders. Definitely a man, though she couldn’t make out his features.

  Emboldened by the arrival of several cars in the vet clinic parking lot next door, she strode to the corner of the café and braced her hands on the top rail of the porch. “Hey!”

  The figure shrank back.

  “Hey, you! What are you doing over there?”

  Several people in the parking lot turned and peered at her over the line of bushes flanking her fence.

  Th
ankful for their presence, she stepped on an upside-down clay pot, vaulted over the fence and hurried up to the front sidewalk.

  The man appeared momentarily confused—wavered—then he struck out at a fast pace and disappeared around the corner. A moment later, an engine roared to life and a vehicle sped away.

  Shaking, she leaned over and braced her palms on her knees.

  It hadn’t been someone out for a walk. A prospective buyer sure wouldn’t have been spooked when she called out to him.

  And if she wasn’t mistaken, the guy had matched Anna’s description of Hubie Post.

  AFTER BUSTLING Sophie and Viper into the café, Beth doubled-checked the padlocks on the yard gates and the doors, then speed dialed both Joel and the sheriff.

  Joel had been at the clinic and arrived immediately, followed by Walt a few minutes later. “Are you okay? Is Sophie?”

  “He didn’t say a word, whoever he was—but he sure acted guilty.” She glanced over at Sophie, who was coloring at her table in the corner. “He stared for a while, and he took off like a rocket when I ran out to the road. Nobody would do that if they didn’t have something to hide.”

  “Have you checked everything here?”

  “The main floor is untouched, far as I can tell. Nothing is missing from the cash register. I haven’t been upstairs, but the door to the stairs was still locked so I’m sure it must all be fine.”

  “Let me go up there,” Joel said. “Walt, would you keep an eye on Sophie?”

  “No problem.” Walt joined Sophie at her table. “Hey, squirt, can I color, too?”

  Beth watched Sophie’s face light up, knowing how much the child missed having a father, and wishing she could turn back the clock to when life had seemed so humdrum, so normal and safe. Had she ever really thought her life boring, and wished for something exciting? Had she ever been that foolish?

  “Key?” Joel asked.

  She jingled through her ring of keys, and unlocked the privacy door to the apartment stairs, but stood aside when Joel insisted on going up alone.