Lone Star Legacy Page 3

  After Beth recouped her expenses, she and her sister planned to split the remaining profits. Beth had hoped her share would provide a significant down payment on a decent place to live in Billings, but that dream had faded with the last contractor. The cost of bringing this place up to code for a buyer’s mortgage inspection would probably approach or even exceed its market value.

  She could do a lot of cosmetic work herself, but it still would have to be sold as a fixer-upper for a ridiculously low figure. Maybe Joel had been right about bulldozing the place and simply giving up. Unless…

  Her heart picked up a faster beat as she took another hard look at the main floor, then walked into the kitchen, where she found Darwin on top of the old refrigerator, a foreleg, rear leg and his tail dangling down the front surface. He gave her a bored look and went back to sleep.

  She studied the possibilities in the kitchen. Her excitement rose. Then dissolved.

  Walt had mentioned opening the café again, and he’d said there wasn’t any competition for thirty or forty miles in any direction. Reopening the café would create income, and would increase its value to prospective buyers. But to open, she’d have to meet an entirely different set of codes, and that would take money she didn’t have, either.

  “When can we go see the puppies?”

  Sophie had been asking all day. “I don’t think…” Beth looked at the clock, wanting nothing more than to cancel that dinner invitation. But one glance at her child’s hopeful expression and she just couldn’t do it.

  After seeing her entire life tipped upside down, Sophie had still taken everything in stride—leaving her pretty pink bedroom, the kids next door, the only house she’d ever known. And this was really such a small thing. What was the harm?

  She managed a weary smile. “Guess we’d better get dressed and get over there. Can’t keep those pups waiting, right?”

  AFTER A LONG, hot shower, Beth gave Sophie a bath and then lingered over her own closet, uncertain over what to wear. Until now there’d been no question—her worst jeans and shirts, because she’d been endlessly cleaning and scrubbing, and today, she’d started clearing out some of the rubbish in the yard.

  But for an evening? Sophie immediately chose her favorite purple Dora dress, but most of Beth’s wardrobe was in storage back home. She finally grabbed cream slacks and a peach knit top, added gold hoops and a bracelet, then twisted her hair up in a loose bun.

  Walt’s friendly greeting and his housekeeper’s welcoming smile made her thankful that she’d taken those few extra minutes to look nice. “You have a lovely home,” she murmured.

  And it was. Most of the houses in town were single story with wood siding, and nearly all of them had deep, open porches to shade against the blistering Texas sun.

  Walt’s home was a two-story brick, spacious and inviting, but with no pretensions of grandeur. Every bit of woodwork and furniture glowed softly from Maria’s loving care, and a mouthwatering aroma of some sort of Mexican entrée filled the air.

  “Are the puppies here?” Sophie said eagerly. She tugged on Beth’s hand. “Can I see them?”

  Walt laughed. “You bet. They can’t wait to see you, either.” He led the way through the living and dining rooms, then down a hallway leading to the kitchen and back door.

  When he ushered them through the door to the screened porch, a litter of yellow-and-black lab pups tumbled out of their blanket-lined box.

  Their mother, a gleaming black lab, lifted her head to check out the newcomers, then flopped back down, clearly exhausted by her rambunctious family.

  Sophie squealed with delight when the pups swarmed around her, licking her fingers and crying to be picked up.

  “The screen door is locked and ole Shadow is a good watchdog,” Walt said. “So your daughter should be okay, if you’d like to come inside for a drink?”

  “Just tea or lemonade, if you’ve got it.” She inclined her head toward Sophie. “I think I’d better stay close by in case she gets overwhelmed.”

  Walt called out to Maria, and she returned a few moments later with a tray of lemonade, tortilla chips and homemade salsa that she set on a glass-topped wicker table.

  “Dinner will be in ten minutes.” She shot a questioning look at Walt. “Okay?”

  Walt glanced at his watch. “Perfect timing.” He settled into one of the four white wicker chairs at the table and waved Beth toward the one across from him.

  The chairs sported bright cushions that echoed the massive pots of red geraniums on the porch steps. Graceful ferns hung from the porch ceiling, and at one end, a long, low table was filled with colorful Mexican pottery bearing a variety of plants.

  “This is so pretty. I hadn’t realized just how nice it would be to get away for an evening,” Beth said. “And Sophie is thrilled, as you can see.”

  The puppies scrambled over each other, whining and vying for attention when Sophie sat down, though a couple toddled back to their nest.

  Walt smiled. “We don’t have the pleasure of young folks here very often, and that’s the best part of having pups. What do you think, Sophie? Aren’t they fun?”

  She ignored him, and Walt gave Beth a curious look.

  “She can’t hear you,” Beth said quietly. “She’s facing the other way, and the puppies are noisy.”

  “Bless her heart.” Walt’s voice was filled with compassion.

  “She had partial hearing loss after an accident, but she’s slowly improving. She manages pretty well if someone speaks up, and does best when she can watch your lips and expression.”

  “My brother Gerald was hard of hearing. Though for him, it was sort of selective,” Walt added with a twinkle in his eye. “The man never missed hearing an invitation to dinner.”

  Walt’s gentle humor reminded her of her late grandfather, and for the first time in weeks, Beth felt herself relax. “I’m so glad you invited us over tonight.”

  “How is Darwin working out for you?”

  “He’s quite a mouser.” Beth shuddered. “I hate to tell you how successful he’s been, though I’d swear he never leaves the top of the refrigerator, and does nothing but sleep. He lined up his prizes on the floor by my bed this morning. So far, he’s massacred six.”

  “He’s just showing off.” Walt took a sip of his iced tea, set it aside, then braced his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers. “How’s everything else going?”

  She felt her smile waver. “Fine. Working hard.”

  He gazed at her thoughtfully. “It’s expensive, doing everything up right. I imagine that house will need a lot of work. More than just a paintbrush and scrub bucket, at any rate.”

  “True.” Disappointment flooded through her as she realized that this dinner invitation was probably nothing more than a sociable way to make a bottom-dollar offer on her place. One she couldn’t afford to accept, because she still had hopes that it would be worth a little more after she’d spruced it up.

  “I have a little proposition for you.”

  Here it comes. She sipped her lemonade. “What is it?”

  The screen door to the house swung open, and Joel stepped out into the porch. His face registered surprise when his gaze landed on Beth. Surprise that quickly faded to a hint of exasperation. “Walt.”

  “Did I forget to tell you about our other guests? You’ve met, I believe.”

  Joel spared Beth a brief nod of acknowledgment, then pulled up a chair and sat at the table. “What’s this about a proposition?”

  “I know what I’m doing,” the older man said mildly.

  “I think we should talk a bit first, don’t you?” A muscle ticked on the side of Joel’s lean jaw.

  He’d recently showered, and his dark hair was still damp and swept back. She’d caught the scents of soap and a faint touch of Stetson aftershave when he passed by, and in those khaki slacks, loafers and a black polo shirt that molded to his broad chest, he could have been some urban guy heading out for an evening in the city.
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br />   A dark and handsome one, at that—all lean, tanned angles and planes, and a flash of white, perfect teeth when he smiled. Which, come to think of it, he’d managed just once since she’d met him. There was a world-weary depth to his compelling, whiskey-brown eyes that suggested he’d seen the worst life had to offer and rarely found a reason to smile.

  “I think this young lady would be a real asset,” Walt said. “And God knows things at the clinic are getting worse by the day.”

  “The clinic?” She raised her hands in protest. Good grief—were they talking about hiring her? “Hey, I really don’t—”

  “You’d have to fill out an application, of course.” Joel leaned back in his chair and angled his attention toward her. “With references. Do you have any work experience?”

  “I—was catering manager at a hotel, until I had Sophie. And then I stayed at home.”

  “Why did you move to Texas?”

  “I think we’ve discussed that already.” Anger flared deep in her belly at his subtly confrontational air. “I didn’t come here looking for a job, so maybe it’s time for Sophie and me to leave.”

  “Hold on, hold on.” Walt shook his head and motioned them both to settle down. He directed a benevolent smile at Beth. “Please, forgive us. Maria and I truly did look forward to having you over.”

  She wavered, wishing she’d never come.

  “But then I also started thinking that you might be interested in a short-term job,” Walt continued. “Just until I can find someone permanent. And,” he added with a nod at Sophie, “I’ll bet Maria could even help you find some good child care.”

  Joel cleared his throat and fixed Walt with a stern look.

  “For Pete’s sake, Joel. Lighten up.” Walt waved a hand at him in dismissal. “I’m sure a few references would be no big deal.”

  Beth looked over and found Joel’s gaze riveted on her face. She had the uneasy feeling that he was picking up on her thoughts, examining them and judging her.

  Suddenly determined to stay, if only to defy him, she gave Joel a bored glance and turned to face her host. “Since we’re all getting to know each other so well, I’m curious about your nephew. He certainly isn’t very friendly, for a small-town guy.”

  Walt chuckled. “He’s pretty new to these parts, too. What—going on six months, Joel? He bought some livestock and a ranch way out in the country. I hardly ever saw him until he started remodeling the clinic. Holed himself up out there, thinking he could just—”

  “Walt.” There was a hint of warning in Joel’s voice.

  The older man scooped up some salsa with a tortilla chip and waved it at her, grinning. “Guess he’ll just have to tell you himself. Maybe you two can get together.”

  “I’m sure it’s a fascinating tale. Maybe another time.” She left the table to sit on the floor with Sophie and the puppies until Maria came to call them in to dinner.

  Walt clearly imagined himself something of a matchmaker, but he couldn’t be more wrong. It was obvious that Joel wasn’t interested, and she sure wasn’t. Tall, dark and paranoid just didn’t meet her basic standards.

  But then, no one did—not anymore. How could she ever know whom to trust?

  She only had to remember the accident last winter, and a betrayal she’d never imagined. She’d never forgive herself for being so blind.

  JOEL SETTLED BACK with one elbow propped on the arm of his chair, his coffee cup in one hand. As always, Maria’s tamales and enchiladas had been incomparable, while the rich, creamy caramelized flan and fluffy sopaipillas were the perfect, sweet balance to her strong coffee.

  But the conversation around the table couldn’t have been more awkward.

  Between the glowering looks Walt shot at him and the tension radiating from the woman across the table, Joel figured this would be a three-Rolaids night for everyone except the little girl, who seemed blissfully unaware of the emotions swirling above her head.

  After seeing Sophie the first time, he’d gone home, tossed back too much Scotch, then lost himself in his own grim memories. The hangover and his strength of will had helped shove those images back into some dim recess of his brain, and he’d vowed that he wouldn’t let them surface again.

  But now, looking at the little girl’s sparkling eyes and listening to her childish chatter about puppies and cats and some friend from back home named Lizzie, his melancholy resettled over him like a suffocating cloud. He wanted nothing more than a quick escape.

  “…so what do you think?” Walt lifted his coffee cup toward Beth in salute. “Want the job?”

  Joel jerked his thoughts back to the present. “I thought we—you—were going to do the usual reference check, and all that.”

  Walt ignored him. “Well?”

  Beth shot a defiant glance at Joel. “I’d be glad to give it a try.”

  Joel exhaled slowly, considering. His caution was probably misplaced, but as a cop, he’d seen more than his share of con artists who were experts at charming the socks off easy marks, and it didn’t pay to be careless. On the bright side, he’d be working at the clinic, too, and could keep an eye on her for a while. In fact…

  “You know what, I was just thinking.” He bared his teeth in what he hoped came across as a friendly smile. “I’m looking for more construction work. I could come over Monday morning and shoot you an estimate on your remodeling projects.”

  Definite alarm flared in her eyes. “I…think I’m pretty well covered already.”

  “How far out are those contractors booked?”

  “A—a month or so.” She set her jaw. “Which will work just fine.”

  “That’s a long time to wait,” he said mildly. “And you know those dates are probably very optimistic, in order to snag your business. At least let me take a look.”

  “I don’t think so. She glanced at Walt, who gave her an encouraging smile. “It would probably be a waste of your time.”

  “He does mighty fine work,” Walt said. “Just look at what he’s done so far in the clinic. But of course, I’m probably biased.”

  “I…” She wavered, biting her lower lip. Then her shoulders sagged, and Joel knew she felt trapped by common courtesy to her host—and new boss—to at least let his nephew look at the project. “I…suppose another estimate wouldn’t hurt,” she said after a long pause, her voice noticeably devoid of enthusiasm.

  She clearly didn’t want anything to do with him, and Joel could hardly blame her for that.

  So he was going to make an offer she couldn’t refuse.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “ARE YOU SURE?” Beth looked down at the paper in her hand with a dubious expression, apparently adding up the numbers a second time. “This is way below the other estimates.”

  Joel shrugged. “Seemed fair enough to me.”

  “B-but the materials. Your time.” She looked up at him and frowned. “Have you actually done much remodeling?”

  “You can check out what I’ve been doing over at the clinic. I also worked my way through college on a construction crew.”

  Joel watched her expressive face as she sorted out what was, in truth, an estimate far below the going rate. He didn’t need the money right now—he’d only started the remodeling work for Walt to fill his time with something worthwhile, though if he stayed in Texas, he might turn it into a business.

  But in this case, he’d wanted to make doubly sure that the client would accept.

  The irony was that perhaps he’d gone too low.

  “Honestly, I hadn’t intended to even consider you, but this estimate is just too affordable for me to pass up,” she said slowly. “I know you’re still working on the clinic, though, and that should come first.”

  He nodded. Either way, she wouldn’t be far out of sight.

  “So how about this—quote me an hourly rate for your labor if I go pick up the materials myself.”

  He suppressed a grin, and again he shot her a low quote—one that barely topped the wage of a convenience store
clerk in Dallas.

  “Let’s go one project at a time, then,” she murmured. “If that’s okay with you, then I guess we have a deal.”

  “So…where do you want to start?”

  She led the way from the café into the dark and dingy kitchen. “Once I can get the café up and running, it will help finance the rest of the work, and might also make this place more desirable to buyers.

  “I’ll do the painting.” She tapped her copy of Joel’s estimate. “But all of those old wooden butcher-block counters have got to go. The floor tile needs to be replaced. The vent system is filthy, to say the least. The three-compartment sink leaks. With this low estimate of yours, I’ll be able to afford a small commercial dishwasher, but it will need to be installed.”

  “Not a problem. So tell me,” he added casually, “why are you tackling this whole place on your own? No steady guy around to pitch in?”

  “I…” She turned away and picked up an old teapot. Studied the label underneath. “You probably heard my daughter mention her father, on that first day.”

  He nodded.

  “He died about a year ago. Unexpectedly—in a single car accident.” She unconsciously touched a thin white scar tracing the edge of her cheek and temple. “Sophie and I were with him.” Her mouth curved into a faint, sad smile. “She was just three, and now she thinks every tall, dark-haired man looks like her daddy.”

  Sophie was napping now, thank God, but at just the mention of her name, painful images from the past blindsided him. She was so sweet, so innocent. So very, very fragile.

  And in the space of minutes, a precious child could be gone forever. It was a responsibility he never wanted to face again.

  “Joel?” Beth was staring at him, the wariness back in her eyes.

  He jerked his thoughts back into the present and scrambled for a response. “I—I’m sorry about your loss.”