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There had to be something he could do to help her. Some way to keep in touch with her—without touching her. A way to take care of her without ticking her off.
If that could ever be possible again.
Through the years, guilt over his feelings for her had grown like the wild, choking kudzu that would take over his spread if he and his cowhands didn’t keep a handle on it. The prettiest flowers you’d ever want to see, that kudzu. But deadly to the stock that grazed on his land.
And now with that load of guilt increased ten times over, it just might be the end of him, too.
Dammit, but he should have known better. Trying not to think of the other night, he took Firebrand into a gallop. His thoughts caught up with him anyway.
Dana had looked so beautiful in that pink dress. And—for the first time in his life—he’d found her within his reach.
He couldn’t keep from touching her, couldn’t help but want to get her out of that gown and into his arms. Couldn’t stop himself from making love with her.
For the only time in his life?
He leaned into Firebrand, urging him to fly as if a monster nipped at their heels.
* * *
EARLY FRIDAY MORNING, Dana sat at her desk at Wright Place Realty. Outside the storefront window, Signal Street was bathed in September sunshine. Inside the office, she felt swathed in a sense of gloom heavy enough to cut with a knife. She missed having Tess around. She missed seeing Ben—though that was the last thing she should want.
Thank heaven, Kayla had shown up for their meeting, giving her a much-needed break from her wayward thoughts. She leaned back in her swivel chair and looked across the desk. “This idea’s sounding better and better every time we discuss it.”
Kayla smiled in satisfaction. “I know it is.”
They wanted to convince the town council to build a playground for the children of Flagman’s Folly, a place where kids of all ages could come together. At the moment, the town’s limited options included the day care center, with its small fenced-in area, and the sneaker-worn plot of grass running behind the elementary and high schools.
“We’ve got some time till the next council meeting,” she told Kayla, “but we need to start looking for locations. First, though, we should check zoning ordinances.”
“I can take care of that. You might have your hands full with Ben.”
She stiffened. “Ben?”
“Yes. He told Sam last night he’s thinking about doing some work in here.”
She tried not to groan. When he had bought this building, he had promptly lowered her rental fees. If he planned to sink money into the property, would he feel the need to raise the rent again? Would he do that regardless, as a way to get back at her for what had happened between them?
No, not Ben.
Still, by the time the newlyweds returned, she could be in big trouble. Maybe she should have agreed to Caleb’s offer of an advance. But accepting, after the way she’d denied needing it, was out of the question—even though Tess had probably seen right through her. After all, they had both been in the same precarious financial situation until just recently. Well, fingers crossed, Caleb’s friend Jared would prove himself a real, live customer.
Avoiding Kayla’s eyes, she straightened the paperwork on her desk. “I’m sure, sooner or later, I’ll hear what he’s got in mind.”
“I’d go with sooner.” Kayla sounded amused. “He’s just about to walk in the door.”
* * *
“WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU today?” Dana asked.
Seeing her through the office window had cranked up the heat inside Ben. But now he winced as a chill settled over him. One that had nothing to do with the air that swept into the room as Kayla pulled the door closed on her way out.
Come to think of it, she’d left in a hurry. Maybe she hadn’t much cared for the chill around there, either.
Behind her desk, Dana looked cool all over, too, from her blond hair to her blue blouse to the bare hands she had folded in front of her. A big difference from the way he’d seen her last, with her hair loose and her pink dress unbuttoned and her pale skin peeking through the back of the gown as she’d run up the stairs. She had just sent him on his way and, still, it had taken everything in him to keep from following her.
He tightened his grip on the clipboard in his hands and swallowed hard. Steady, now. Just friends.
Her icy question, one she would’ve aimed at anyone who walked through the door, said she might not even consider them that. “Uh. Listen, about the other night—”
She turned red to her hairline. “Please.” She coughed and began again. “That’s...something we shouldn’t mention. Forget the other night. I have.”
He nodded. She’d forced her tone to go along with the whole cool package, telling him she had no intention of making things easy between them. Well, he’d already taken on that job. To make things better. Not to argue with her but to help her.
Whether she wanted his help or not.
Of course, with the way she felt about that, he couldn’t tell her outright. He raised his hand, waving with the clipboard he held. “I need to take a few measurements.”
“What for?”
Her question took him aback—until he saw the small indentation between her brows. After all these years, he could read her every expression. The tiny frown meant something worried her. Keeping his tone level, he said, “I’m thinking about putting down new tile in here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the floor.”
“An upgrade might be nice, don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “If you want the truth, I think it’s fine the way it is.”
Why had he bothered to ask? “Thanks for the input.” As nicely as he could, he added, “Think I’ll go with the new tile. Might look good to your customers.”
She sighed. “We don’t have any clients, Ben.”
He stilled. That sentence told him what had caused the worry line between her brows. Hearing it took the irritation right out of him. The sudden wry smile she sent his way made his pulse jump.
“You know, if Caleb hadn’t bought that ranch,” she added, “I’d be up Sidewinder Creek without a paddle.”
“We’ve done that once before, haven’t we?”
She laughed. “Yes, I guess we have.”
Their eyes met. For a moment the shared memory from their grade-school days brought them close again.
“And,” she continued, “you’d think I would learn from my mistakes.”
She meant more than that day long ago. “Well,” he said, unwilling to go where that would lead, “the thought of getting caught right now can’t be so alarming, considering the creek’s about a foot and a half deep from the drought.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Then all the more reason to try to lure customers for you.”
She stared at him. The close moment ended as abruptly as if she had slammed the office door between them. “Thanks,” she said finally. “But I can manage.”
“How?” he asked, gripping the clipboard. “You’re not expecting another Caleb Cantrell to just happen along, are you?”
“Maybe. A friend of his is flying in next week to look at property. But—”
“Yeah, Caleb mentioned that.”
“—my business isn’t your worry.”
“Fair enough.” No, it wasn’t fair at all. Her words stung, and he fought to shrug off his frustration. “This office is my concern, though. So is the entire building. And if I see improvements needing to be done, I’ll make ’em.”
“Fine. As long as you’re aware I’m not obligated to pay you anything more than the rent we decided on. And that was no gentleman’s agreement we made.”
“Couldn’t have been, since I’m no gentleman.” He gave a rueful smile. “Neither were you, last time I looked.”
No matter the chilly tone she’d forced earlier, no matter the blank expression on her face now, he could start a campfire with the tension sparking between them. He could start something more.
Give them time alone again—
“We have a lease,” she said, her voice shaky. “Signed and sealed on the dotted line.”
“I’m not arguing that.”
“Good.” She rose, marched across the office and flipped the hanging sign on the front door. From the outside, it would now display Closed.
She must have read his mind.
“Well, then,” she said, “as there’s nothing else to discuss, I’ll leave you to get your measuring done.”
Disappointment jolted him. “No need for you to go.”
“Oh, but there is. I’ve got customers to lure in, and all that. Please lock up on your way out.” Clearly all too eager to get away, she went through the door and closed it behind her even more quickly than Kayla had done.
He slapped the clipboard against his palm and shook his head. What the hell had he been thinking, wanting to get her alone? Hadn’t that led to enough trouble?
So much for his plan of working around here—every time he would come in to do something, she’d just take off again. He couldn’t ask her to stay at her desk, anyway, when her job required her to keep on the move. But he wasn’t beaten yet.
She didn’t know what a mistake she’d made by walking out on him. By forcing his hand. By making him twice as determined to find a way to make things easier for her.
He smiled, turning another idea over in his mind, one he liked much better than hoping to corner her in her office.
An idea he’d stake his ranch on she wouldn’t like at all.
* * *
“I DIDN’T DO IT, MAMA!” P.J. called the minute she walked in the door late that afternoon.
Now what?
After Ben had invaded her office, seeming to take up all the oxygen in the room, she’d found it hard to breathe. Needing to go somewhere—anywhere—to escape, she’d spent a long morning researching at the local library. Then she’d spent an even longer afternoon back at her desk, searching for listings, hoping to find something to tempt Caleb’s friend next week. Yet somehow, as she worked, she could still see Ben in the room.
Coming home to P.J.’s vehement denial gave her an instant diversion. Chances were, he had done whatever it was. She just hoped it wasn’t something too serious.
“Didn’t do what, P.J.?” she asked.
Instead of answering, he took her by the hand and led her to the downstairs bathroom.
Water trickled from beneath the vanity. Puddles saturated the tiles. The loose edges of a half-dozen vinyl squares had already started to curl. She groaned. “P.J., where’s Anne?”
Dana couldn’t ask for a better babysitter. She willingly picked up P.J. after kindergarten and nine-month-old Stacey from day care. And she was always available in the evening when Dana had to show properties to her clients.
When she had clients.
Best of all, Anne loved the kids. And that mattered most.
“She’s in the backyard with Stacey,” P.J. said.
Chances were almost guaranteed that Clarice, her elderly next-door neighbor, would have her eye on the yard, too. “You go out there with them, please, while Mama cleans up this mess.”
After walking barefoot through the rising water on the bathroom floor, she tied a rag around the leaking pipe and put an empty bucket beneath the joint. Finished, she looked around and shook her head. This was the floor—and not to mention, now the pipe—that should be replaced, not the perfectly good tiles Ben wanted to change in the office.
The floor and the plumbing headed a long list of things that needed fixing around here. She couldn’t afford the repairs. At this point, she couldn’t afford to move anywhere else, either. In any case, she didn’t own this house, only rented it.
In the kitchen, she grabbed the phone and punched her absentee landlord’s number. Despite numerous reminders about repairs, she’d let George slide, knowing he had his own financial worries. She tried to ignore the issues, but her list had grown to a couple of pages, the minor fixes had given way to major problems, and this new situation threatened her family’s safety.
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