Always A Mcbride. Linda Turner

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      “Thanks for the offer, but Chris isn’t expecting me, so I’d rather not disturb him tonight. Just take me into town and drop the car off at a local garage. I’ll take care of everything in the morning.”

      He spoke in a cool tone that warned the other man not to argue, and with a shrug, he gave in graciously. “Suit yourself. Just give me a few seconds to get her all hooked up, and we can go. You can wait in the truck, if you like. I imagine you’d like to get in out of the rain.”

      Taylor generally had little patience for those who stated the obvious. When he was thoroughly soaked and his wet hair was dripping down his face, he had even less. Somehow, however, he managed to hang onto the manners his mother had taught him and curtly thanked the man before heading for the truck.

      Unfortunately, his mood improved little as he watched the wrecker driver hook his car to the tow truck. Assessing the damage, he swore roundly. When he’d planned how he was going to track down his father and confront him, he’d thought he’d accounted for every possible contingency. He’d been wrong. It would be at least a week or longer before his car could be repaired—if the local garage could get the parts in that quickly!—which meant he’d have to get a rental. And he seriously doubted that there was anything available locally. He’d have to call Aspen or Denver and see about having one delivered, which would take time. He’d be lucky if could start looking for Gus by the middle of next week.

      Thoroughly irritated, his mood only darkened as the tow-truck driver drove him into Liberty Hill and he got his first look at the town where his father lived. It was smaller than he’d thought, though he supposed some would call it quaint. Old-fashioned streetlights lined Main Street, illuminating homes that looked as if they belonged in an old Jimmy Stewart movie. Nearly every house had a porch, a flower garden, and a swing set in the yard. In the mood he was in, Taylor saw little to admire about it. He liked cities, not small towns that weren’t going anywhere. The rain had eased for the moment, but Liberty Hill’s wet streets were still deserted. And it was barely ten o’clock at night! If the powers that be could have, he was sure they’d have rolled up the sidewalks by now. The only business that was still open was an old-fashioned diner by the name of Ed’s.

      “Here you go,” the tow-truck driver said as he unhitched his wrecked Mercedes in front of the town’s only garage and gave Taylor a receipt for his credit-card payment. “Curtis Dean owns the place—he’ll be in in the morning at six. He’s a good mechanic. You won’t find anyone who does better body work.” Suddenly frowning as he watched Taylor pull his suitcase from the trunk of his car, he said, “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to your cousin’s? Where are you going to stay tonight?”

      Taylor was asking himself the same thing. He’d seen a sign for the town library and hospital, and they’d passed a beauty salon and a lawyer’s office on the way to the garage. The one thing he hadn’t seen was anything that even resembled a Best Western. “That’s a good question,” he retorted. “Aren’t there any hotels around here?”

      “Nope. Myrtle Henderson has a boarding house, though. I heard she was turning it into a bed and breakfast. You might try there. It’s a big old Victorian house down the street on the right. You can’t miss it. It’s right next to the only antique store in town.”

      Considering how off the beaten track Liberty Hill was, Taylor doubted the place was booked for the night. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll give it a try.”

      Myrtle Henderson’s place was right where the tow-truck driver had said it was…and as dark as the rest of the buildings in town. Irritated, Taylor stood at the front gate and swore softly. What was it with this town? Did everybody go to bed with the chickens?

      Scowling, he would have gone somewhere else for the night, but there was nowhere else. He was well and truly stuck, and if he couldn’t wake Myrtle Henderson, he’d be sleeping on a bench in the park…if this damn town even had a park!

      Fuming, he pushed open the gate and strode up the walk to the front porch. Next to the old-fashioned, oval-glassed door, the doorbell glowed softly in the night. He jabbed it stiffly, sending the faint, cheery tinkle of its bell echoing through the silent house. Twenty seconds passed, then a minute, and still, the house remained as dark and quiet as a tomb.

      Scowling, he swore and had just lifted his hand to pound on the door when he saw a light suddenly flare on inside the front entry of the old house. A split second later, the porch light was flipped on, and through the lace curtain covering the glass oval of the door, he saw the vague figure of a woman approach. Finally! he thought with a sigh of relief as she shot the dead bolt free. Maybe he wouldn’t have to sleep on that park bench, after all.

      His only thought was to get a room. It wasn’t until the woman started to pull the door open that he remembered he had to look like something that had just crawled out of a swamp. His clothes were wet and torn, his hair plastered to his head. Any woman with sense would send him packing the second she laid eyes on him, not invite him in and rent him a room.

      Idiot! he raged silently. He should have gone over to the diner and cleaned up some before approaching her. It was, however, too late for that. He’d have to muddle through an explanation the best he could and hope she believed him.

      “I’m sorry for disturbing you so late,” he began as the door was finally pulled open completely. “I had an accident in my car when I was coming into town, and I need a place to stay….”

      That was as far as he got. No longer concealed behind the lace curtain of the door was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. Stunned, he felt his jaw drop and could do nothing but stand there like a fool with his mouth hanging open. When the tow-truck driver had said Myrtle Henderson was turning her boarding house into a bed and breakfast, he’d assumed for some reason that she was an older woman. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

      In the stark light of the entry hall’s old brass chandelier, this woman quite simply stole his breath. Maybe it was the angle of the light or simply the stress of walking away from an accident that could have killed him, but he took one look at her and felt as though he’d stepped into a faded photograph from another century. Everything about her was soft—the cascade of blond hair that fell in soft waves past her shoulders, the old-fashioned gown and robe that covered her completely, but still somehow appeared to be as gossamer as a dream. Obviously, she was fresh from her bath—he could clearly smell the scent of her soap, and her hair was damp around the edges—but he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. No woman had a right to look so beautiful without makeup.

      The thought had hardly registered—and had time to irritate him—when he suddenly realized he was staring. Stiffening, he reminded himself that he was there for a room, nothing else. “The tow-truck driver said you were turning your boarding house into a bed and breakfast,” he continued stiffly. “I—”

      Behind him, lightning suddenly ripped through the night sky, and right on its heels was a crack of thunder so loud it could have stopped the devil himself in his tracks. Before Taylor could say another word, the lights went out.

      Chapter 2

      Startled, Phoebe gasped. Darkness engulfed her like a shroud, blinding her, and for a moment, she could see nothing but the sharp flash of the lightning outside and the silhouette of the stranger at the door.

      In the darkness, he was huge! Phoebe felt her heart jump into her throat and reminded herself that she wasn’t one of those women who was easily scared. After all, there was no reason to be nervous. She was in Liberty Hill, Colorado, for heaven’s sake! There were no ax murderers here, no rapists, no serious criminals СКАЧАТЬ