Temporarily Texan. Victoria Chancellor

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      “If I may paraphrase an old western movie, this house ain’t big enough for the both of us.”

      He laughed. “That’s pretty good.”

      “Thank you. Now, I’d better collect my tote bag and cooler and get on the road. Again.”

      “That was a Willie Nelson song.”

      “What was?” she asked as she walked down the hall to the depressing guest bedroom.

      “‘On the Road Again.’ Do you know it?”

      “No, not really. We don’t listen to much Willie Nelson on our artsy little vegetarian farms.”

      She grabbed the heavy tote bag from the brown bedspread, and when she turned, Troy Crawford was blocking the door, his forearms resting on the door lintel.

      “I’m sorry I was rude to you. Sometimes I joke around when I’m really pis—um, I mean upset. I wasn’t lashing out at you as much as at the situation.”

      “I’m just as upset about this mess, but I’m not attacking your choices.”

      He sighed and looked down at the floor. “Well, you did say you didn’t mind if the ranch failed, but that’s no excuse, I guess. I’m really sorry. Will you accept my apology?”

      “Gladly. If you’ll allow me to walk out that door.”

      “You’re free to go, but I’m telling you, there’s no place to go. Look, if it would make you feel better, you can have the house to yourself. I’ll stay in the barn.”

      She sighed. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to put you out. There must be somewhere to stay. Perhaps I could use your phone to call?”

      “You’re free to use the phone as much as you want.”

      She carried her bag to the door and looked up into Troy Crawford’s face. “Thank you.”

      He lowered his arms, stepped back and reached for the jute handle. “You’re welcome.”

      Instead of arguing about who would carry the bag, she handed it over and followed him to the study.

      “Just answer one question for me,” he said, pausing at the door and turning back to look at her.

      “Okay.”

      “Why don’t you have a cell phone?”

      She sighed. “I had one until two days ago.”

      “What happened?”

      “The goat ate it.”

      “The goat?”

      “Billy. He eats everything,” she said with a sigh. “Once he ate my purse while I was talking to a friend, and I didn’t even notice until the strap fell off my shoulder.”

      Troy laughed, but she didn’t think it was funny that her cell phone was now in a compost heap in New Hampshire.

      “I didn’t have time to replace it before I left for Texas.” Much less the money, since it wasn’t insured. “Now, can I make those calls before it gets any later?”

      FIFTEEN MINUTES AND SEVERAL phone calls later, Raven was finally convinced that there weren’t any motels, hotels or bed-and-breakfasts in or around Brody’s Crossing. She probably should have believed Troy Crawford, but it had seemed so unlikely that there was no place within a reasonable distance where she could rent a room. That was unheard of in New England, but she remembered all the wide-open spaces along the highways as she’d driven through Oklahoma and Texas, so she supposed it made sense in the West.

      She sat alone in the Crawford home office and wondered what she was going to do now. Accept his hospitality, grudging though it might be, or…what? Money was somewhat tight. She could sleep in her car, but where, and for how long? Besides, the weather was so hot!

      And really, where was the need, when Troy Crawford had offered her his guest room? He’d even volunteered to sleep in the barn, for goodness’ sake! The hot, dusty barn. She’d taken a peek inside the small bedroom out there, and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It was even more depressing than this bare-bones, no-style, outdated house.

      “Did you find a place to stay?” he asked, startling her as he leaned against the door frame. The man was so silent. He didn’t hum or whistle or stomp around.

      “No, as I’m sure you knew. As you’d warned me.”

      “So are you going to stay here? I’ve got to tell you, it’s a long drive to anywhere, especially at night.”

      She sighed. “I know it is. Besides, maybe Mrs. Philpot or Mr. Sam will call or e-mail with some answers.”

      “Perhaps, but I wouldn’t bet on it until Monday.”

      “I know.”

      “Well, then, I’ll get my things together. I’ll go out to the barn to sleep, but I have some work to do first.”

      She might regret this in the morning, but she couldn’t put him out of his own home. She faced the other wall and absently folded the length of her scarf. “No, you don’t have to stay in the barn. I mean, this is your house. If you wanted to get in, you could. I’m sure there are keys. I feel safe with you in the daylight, so I’m certain I’ll feel equally safe at night.”

      “You’re sure?”

      He said the words so softly that she had to look back at him to see his expression. Unfortunately, he gave nothing away. Just that softer than expected question.

      “Of course,” she said briskly, letting the scarf slip through her fingers.

      Chapter Three

      Raven pushed away from the desk and stood up. “I’ll be glad to help with dinner.”

      “Um, are you sure you can cook?”

      “I cook for myself all the time!”

      “I doubt I have any of the ingredients you’re used to.”

      “I doubt that you do, either. Fortunately, I brought a supply of food until I can locate organic vegetables.”

      He shook his head. “Good luck with that. Most folks around here believe in ‘better living through chemistry.’”

      “I’m sure there are some people who grow their own produce without pesticides or chemical fertilizers.”

      “If you say so.”

      “I’ll track them down.”

      He held up a hand. “I wish you more luck than you had finding a motel.”

      She took a deep breath, ready to argue some more, but all the steam when out of her. He was probably right about the vegetables. СКАЧАТЬ