Claimed by a Cowboy. Tanya Michaels
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Название: Claimed by a Cowboy
Автор: Tanya Michaels
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon American Romance
isbn: 9781408978139
isbn:
“You eat any dinner?” he heard himself ask awkwardly. Stupid question. She’s a grown woman, not the cat. She can feed herself when she chooses.
“Actually, no.” Lorelei sounded bemused by the realization. “Guess I forgot. I’ve been working all evening.”
“Working? Surely your bosses don’t expect you to be on call two days before your mother’s memorial service?” Sam had worked for a few hard-hearted SOBs in his time, but they’d all understood stopping to remember the dead.
“It was my choice. And my business.”
Right—so butt out, cowboy. Message received loud and clear.
He tipped his hat to her. “Good night then, Miss Keller. Oh, but before I forget.” Bending to the cabinet beneath the sink, he retrieved a small trash bag and a slotted plastic scooper. “Here. Cat box is in the sunroom.”
LORELEI’S FINGERS SHOOK as she unlocked the back door on Friday morning. In order to pull out her keys, she’d had to set down the cardboard flat she’d carried. The thought of picking it back up didn’t help her trembling. What she wouldn’t give to be in her office right now.
The desperate thought conjured an image of Sam’s disapproving expression last night. No doubt he considered her an unfeeling ice-queen for obsessing over work at a time like this. Not that she gave a damn about his opinion.
Her job was soothing. Numbers and facts and statistics—they’d always lulled her out of anxiety. Wasn’t that why people were supposed to count sheep? Unfortunately, being an actuary wasn’t really a work-from-home kind of career. She’d prevaricated yesterday. Her hours spent on the phone hadn’t been so much working as turning her projects over to two other junior actuaries at the company. Her supervisor had insisted.
“Take a couple of weeks off,” he’d told her. “You haven’t used a single vacation day in what, over a year? You need it. And we need you at one hundred percent. You’re officially on sabbatical.”
Tears stung her eyes. What her boss saw as sabbatical, she saw as exile from the only thing that might keep her sane through the next few days. Today had been awful, and she still had the memorial service and an obligatory meeting with her mom’s lawyer tomorrow.
Maybe I should have let Ava come with me this morning. The older woman had offered, but Lorelei had suspected her mother’s friend would dissolve into tears, threatening Lorelei’s own composure. Taking a deep breath, she carried the open-topped box inside and set it gingerly on the counter. The green-and-azure urn that rose from within was porcelain, decorated with bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush. Objectively, Lorelei had to admit it was a lovely container. Wanda had selected it to coordinate with her late husband’s urn, which bore a picture of a pecan tree.
Hysteria rose inside of Lorelei and erupted as a horrified giggle. Oh, God. This is all that’s left of my family—matching vases.
Reflexively, she reached into her pocket for her cell phone. She could call Celia, see how the policy presentation—which had been Lorelei’s and had now changed hands—was going. Part of Lorelei acknowledged that she was micromanaging a peer and that she was undoubtedly annoying Celia with her offers to answer questions or to email additional background information. As she dialed, she promised herself she’d do something to make it up to other woman when she returned to Philadelphia. For now, Lorelei just needed to survive the next forty-eight hours.
Chapter Four
Picturesque clouds dotted an impossibly blue sky, uninterrupted by air traffic or hazy pollution—only the occasional songbird in flight. The sun shone, but gently enough that no one broke a sweat, even in black mourning attire or a suit jacket. It was the afternoon every bride would want for her wedding.
Well, except for Wanda, who’d once claimed that she’d been “delighted” it rained during her long-ago September wedding and had in fact been hoping for a downpour. She held with the superstition that rain on a wedding day meant good luck. Another tradition she’d embraced was the prewedding Polterabend. Many dishes had been broken in hopes of bringing luck to the happy couple.
Lorelei’s throat tightened as she thought of pictures she’d seen of her parents’ wedding day. They’d been so young and in love! Neither of them had been old enough to die. Yet here Lorelei was once again at a family-owned funeral home that had been part of the community for a hundred years, entering through the same white columns she’d passed through on the day of her father’s memorial service.
One of the brothers who ran the place was at her side immediately, murmuring his condolences and ushering her to the salon where her mother was being honored today. They’d done a lovely job displaying portraits amid floral arrangements, but the overpowering scent of so many competing flowers in a closed space made Lorelei’s nose twitch and irritated her eyes.
Ava and her husband arrived first, immediately followed by other people who had adored Wanda. A crowd gathered around Lorelei, men and women anxious to share their memories of her mother. All around her, the town’s citizens regaled each other with stories. The room took on a buzz that made her feel as if she were trapped in a beehive. Lorelei knew her mom had been a very gracious person, could remember the comfort Wanda had taken in those close to her when her husband had passed. Wanda had laughed with them, cried with them and hugged everyone.
In contrast, Lorelei seemed to stiffen at contact. After thirty minutes, her head throbbed. She kept eyeing the door, wanting to escape and steal a few moments of peace for herself before the official service began.
Halfway through yet another recollection from the head librarian, a woman who had helped Wanda do folklore research for the B and B, Lorelei finally interrupted. “I’m sorry,” she said, placing a conciliatory hand on the woman’s arm. “If you’ll please excuse me for a moment, I just need…” To get the hell out of here. Luckily, the circumstances didn’t require an excuse. The small circle of people who’d gathered around her nodded sympathetically and immediately broke formation so she could pass.
Lorelei went as quickly as decorum allowed toward a side door that led into the employee parking lot. She figured there was less risk that way for running into anyone. The service started in fifteen minutes, and there might still be mourners arriving through the front door.
She stepped outside, lifted her face to the breeze and inhaled deeply when the door shut, muffling the conversations she’d left behind.
“How’re you holding up?”
Whipping her head around, she spotted Sam Travis. He was perched on the ramp railing that ran the length of the building. She’d seen him earlier—without his cowboy hat, for once—talking to Clinton and Ava Hirsch, and she’d been relieved when he didn’t approach her. Sam made her…uneasy, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
By the end of elementary school, she’d known she didn’t fit in with other kids. They labeled her a math geek and didn’t invite her to the giggly slumber parties her female classmates later rehashed in the cafeteria. She’d told herself it didn’t matter. At thirteen, she’d decided she was getting out of town as soon as possible. In college, she’d bonded with students similar to her and had been comfortable in her own skin ever since. She knew who she was and what she wanted СКАЧАТЬ