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“Been like what?” Luke asked with entirely too much wonder in his voice.
Clayt didn’t have to speak. The sardonic lift of his eye-brows and the tilt of his head said it all.
Wyatt pushed his chair away from his desk and strode to the filing cabinet, where he sloshed coffee into three cups, wondering what it would take to get a little privacy around here. People claimed misery loved company, but he would have preferred to sulk alone. That was next to impossible in Jasper Gulch. He should know. He’d tried it last night. He really had had every intention of nursing his sore ego in his own quiet corner in the diner. But when he’d gotten back to his table, his corner hadn’t been quiet anymore. He’d taken one look at the area ranchers and cowboys he’d grown up with and had hightailed it over to the Crazy Horse Saloon. Glancing at the two men taking up space in his small office right now, he realized he wasn’t having much better luck this morning.
“Ah,” Luke said, after taking his first sip of coffee. “Thick as tar. Just the way I like it.”
Clayt slunk lower in his chair and shook his head all over again. Wyatt almost grinned for the first time since yesterday.
Luke and Clayt Carson were a year apart in age and shared a passing family resemblance that included dark hair, gray eyes and tanned skin pulled taut over high cheekbones and angular chins. Their tall, lanky builds had come from the same gene pool, but the good mood Luke was in today didn’t run in the family.
Wyatt knew both of these men like the backs of his hands. He’d been there when Clayt had gotten married ten years ago. He’d been there when his wife had left him two years later, too. Wyatt was the first person Luke had told about his decision to become a vet instead of a partner on the family ranch. Technically, only Luke and Clayt were blood related, but Wyatt had been in and out of the Carson house so often while he was growing up he might as well have been a third brother, blond hair, brown eyes and all.
“So,” Luke said cheerfully. “What’s new?”
Clayt slanted Wyatt a meaningful look. “I liked him a lot better when he was ornery, didn’t you?”
Luke laughed. “Come on, you two. I’m going to marry the most beautiful woman in Jasper Gulch. You should be happy for me. Who knows, maybe one of you will get lucky one of these days.”
The outer door opened noisily. Before Wyatt and Clayt had the opportunity to offer to wipe the grin off Luke’s face, Cletus McCully closed the door and ambled closer.
Staring at the water running off his grandfather’s hat and the footprints on the floor, Wyatt said, “Granddad, you’re dripping wet. Where have you been?”
Cletus hung his hat on a peg near the door and straightened as much as his stoop-shouldered frame would allow. “What do you mean where have I been? Just because I’m seventy-nine years old don’t mean I ain’t got things to do. Mmm. Is that coffee I smell?”
Wyatt tried to count to ten. At seven, he shoved his chair back, strode to the filing cabinet and drained the last of the thick brew from the pot. As usual, his show of temper was lost on his grandfather.
Cletus slurped his coffee then slapped Luke on the back. “I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you proper yet. I talked to your future bride last night. Said she and Lisa and Mel are goin’ into Pierre to look at weddin’ dresses this weekend. That’s good. Real good. Means plans are movin’ along. So, Luke, who’re you gonna ask to be your best man?”
Luke glanced up. “Gee, Cletus, I don’t rightly know. Clayt or Wyatt, I guess.”
Wyatt’s mouth dropped open. Had he just heard Luke say he didn’t rightly know? For crying out loud, it was enough to turn a grown man’s stomach. Gritting his teeth and crossing his arms, he looked at Clayt and said, “He’s your brother.”
Clayt shook his head. “He’s your best friend.”
With a snap of one suspender, old Cletus said, “Looks like there’s only one way to settle this. Okay with you, Luke, if the boys flip for it fair and square?”
Wyatt didn’t care who ended up acting as Luke’s best man. He was too busy trying to figure out why a woman who claimed she would go out with every man who asked had told him that going to dinner wouldn’t be a good idea. He wasn’t so arrogant as to expect every woman to fall at his feet. He could take no for an answer. But Lisa hadn’t told him no. What the hell did she mean going out with him wouldn’t be a good idea? Wyatt happened to believe it was the best idea he’d had in years.
Cletus was still talking when Wyatt came out of his musings. “As best man, you’ll be expected to hook up with the maid of honor. And Jillian asked Lisa Markman to be her maid of honor, ain’t that right, Luke?”
Lisa?
Wyatt jerked to attention. “Heads!” he called.
“Tails!” Clayt said at the same time.
Cletus mumbled something about having to do everything himself then flipped the quarter into the air. He caught it easily enough then slapped it against his forearm. Raising his hand slightly, a grin stole across his wrinkled face. “Wyatt, it looks like you’re guaranteed at least one weddin’ dance with Jillian’s dark-haired maid of honor, and maybe a little time alone with her at the barbecue you boys are havin’ the first Saturday in September. Oooo-eee, that woman’s built for comfort, ain’t she?”
Wyatt’s mind eased into overdrive. Turning Lisa Markman into his arms for a slow wedding dance was one of the most appealing thoughts he’d had all day. Kissing her for the first time was another, and so was wrapping his arms around her and kissing her again.
“I want to see the coin,” Clayt told the older man.
“What do you mean you wanna see the coin?”
“What do you mean what do I mean?”
Wyatt glanced from Cletus to Clayt and back again. His grandfather’s brown eyes were spitting daggers at Clayt, but his right hand remained firmly over the coin.
Clayt wasn’t budging, either. “It just so happens that I’d trust you with my life, but everyone knows you’re not above bending the rules to suit your purposes, and Wyatt is your grandson.”
“You callin’ me a cheater?”
“I’m not calling you anything. Just show us the coin. If Wyatt won fair and square, fine. If not, he can ask Lisa to dance the normal way. She’s made it clear she’ll give everyone a fair chance. She even went out with Grover Andrews, for cripe’s sakes.”
Cletus’s chin came up a notch, and Wyatt found himself saying a silent prayer that he’d get lucky and a bolt of lightning would strike nearby, or maybe his sainted mother would swoop down from heaven and put her hand over Cletus’s mouth.
“That ain’t quite true, boy.”
Wyatt practically groaned out loud. So much for luck.
“Are you saying Lisa didn’t go out with Grover Andrews?” Clayt asked.
“Oh, she went out with Grover, all right. But she ain’t gone out with every man who’s asked her.”
“Who’d she turn down?” Luke asked.
“Yeah, who?” Clayt echoed.
“Didn’t Wyatt tell you?”
Clayt and Luke turned like the guards at Buckingham Palace.
“You asked her out?” Luke asked.
“She said no?” Clayt sputtered.
Wyatt heaved a huge sigh. “She didn’t say no. Exactly.”
“What did she say?” Luke asked.
“She said she didn’t think having dinner with me would be a good idea.”
“That’s odd,” Luke said.
“Yeah,” Clayt agreed. “Why would a woman who’s made it clear that she’s looking for the right man say that?”
“Maybe she doesn’t think I’m the right man for her.”
“How could she possibly know that without going out with you?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself all morning.”
“I’m tellin’ you, boy, you have to stop bein’ so nice and take the bull by the horns. Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to Cletus, three gazes fell to the gnarled hand clutching his arm, and three voices rose at the same time. “That does it.”
“Show us that coin.”
“Now.”
Wyatt had never heard his grandfather utter a more indignant oath, but after looking each younger man straight in the eyes, he finally raised his hand. Wyatt, Clayt and Luke all stared at the shiny quarter resting on Cletus’s forearm, but Wyatt was the only one who released a low whistle. “There’s no doubt about it, boys. It’s heads. I won the toss, fair and square.”
Thunder rumbled as Cletus dropped the coin into his pocket. Turning on the heels of his worn cowboy boots, he strode to the door with all the dignity and speed his skinny, bowed legs could muster.
“Come on, Cletus,” Clayt called. “Don’t go away mad.”
At the door, Cletus mumbled something Wyatt couldn’t make out, but he recognized the low, sultry voice that answered. His grandfather stepped to one side and the last woman Wyatt expected to set foot in his office walked through the door.
Anything he might have said froze in his brain. All he could do was stare as Lisa Markman strolled toward him. Looking neither right nor left, she didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the railing that divided the office. Wyatt was vaguely aware that Cletus had closed the door behind him, but he didn’t take his eyes off the woman wearing the shiny, red raincoat and the churlish expression.
“Sheriff.”
“Lisa.”
With a haughty lift of her chin, she said, “It’s a good thing I don’t believe in suing people, or I’d have to file a suit against the town of Jasper Gulch for false advertising.”
Wyatt rose to his feet slowly. “Why is that?”
“Your ad said this was a quiet, peaceful town where the biggest crimes are jaywalking and gossip and the ugly color of orange Bonnie Trumble painted the front of her beauty shop.”
“And that isn’t true?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid I have to report a theft.”
“What’s been taken?” Wyatt asked, his voice getting deeper with every word.
Lisa lowered her dripping umbrella then met his wide-eyed stare. “It seems that one of the fine citizens of Jasper Gulch stole my car.”
Chapter Two
“Somebody stole your car?” Wyatt asked.
“Thank God.”
Wyatt, Luke and Lisa all swung around and looked at Clayt.
“Are you happy about this?” Lisa asked.
Clayt Carson had the grace to look sheepish. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, ma’am. I’m just relieved because my little girl couldn’t have been responsible for stealing a car.”
Swiping his faded brown cowboy hat off his head, he glanced at Wyatt and said, “You don’t think Haley took it, do you?”
Wyatt settled his hands to his hips and gave Clayt’s question careful consideration. The man had every reason to be worried. During the past two months since she’d come to live with her father, nine-year-old Haley Carson had been a handful. She had been caught stealing food off Lisa and Jillian’s front porch last month, but Wyatt didn’t think a little kid was responsible for stealing a car. Even if the child in question was Haley Carson. Shifting his gaze to Lisa, he asked, “Did you leave your keys in the ignition?”
She shook her head. “I know most people out here do, but I haven’t gotten out of the habit of stashing my keys in my purse every time I get out of my car.”
“There you have it,” Wyatt told Clayt. “Unless Haley knows how to hot-wire an automobile, she’s off the hook.”
Clayt crammed his hat back on his head and visibly relaxed. Wyatt slanted his two best friends an arched look. They both looked at Lisa, then at him and then at each other. With half smiles the Carsons were famous for, they tugged at the brims of their hats and muttered something about other places they had to be.
It was all Lisa could do not to shake her head and roll her eyes at the way those two men swaggered out of the office. They couldn’t possibly think she’d actually bought their little show of innocence, could they? Oh, she didn’t doubt that they had someplace they had to go. After all, there probably were cattle for Luke to inoculate, and Clayt probably did have to get home to his daughter. But those boys were ranchers, not actors, and they left because Wyatt had given them the signal to go.
In the wake of creaking floorboards and the resounding clatter of the door, the room seemed inordinately silent. That silence wrapped around Lisa, as thick as the air before a thunderstorm and just as invigorating.
She wasn’t sure why she chose that particular moment to glance up at Wyatt, but once she had, she couldn’t look away. This was one of the few times she’d seen him without his white Stetson. His hair was a dark shade of blond. She wasn’t surprised it wasn’t shaggy around the edges. Oh, no, Wyatt McCully was probably one of those men who got his hair cut the first week of every month just like clockwork. She’d seen his eyes before, so their golden shade of brown came as no surprise, either. Today, she was more concerned about the interest smoldering in their depths.
His skin was as tanned as every other cowboy’s she’d met out here. Except Wyatt wasn’t a cowboy who wore chaps and spurs. He was the local sheriff. Lisa didn’t really care what a man did for a living, and she certainly couldn’t fault him for the way he looked in his uniform. It wasn’t his beige shirt that put her off. It wasn’t even his badge. It was his reputation. According to the grapevine in Jasper Gulch, Wyatt McCully didn’t swear, he didn’t drink much and didn’t chew tobacco. Word had it he’d never gotten in trouble in his entire life.
Lisa Markman had been in plenty. She wasn’t ashamed of where she’d been or who she’d become. But she knew what she wanted, what she needed. And she wasn’t going to find it in this office.
“Did you know it’s bad luck to open an umbrella indoors?”
She glanced from her open umbrella straight into his eyes. “Yes, well, Danger is my middle name.”
“Is that a fact?”
Lisa imagined that a lot of female heads had been turned by that deep, rich voice. It was time to let him know he couldn’t turn hers. She pressed a button on her umbrella. By the time she’d smoothed the folds into place, she knew how to put an end to the interest in Wyatt’s eyes.
“Look, sheriff, if I could have handled this myself, I wouldn’t have set foot in this place, but I really need to get my car back. I have a shipment of Western clothes to pick up in Pierre this morning. So, do you think we could get this over with?”
The stiffening of his shoulders was almost imperceptible, and so was the flicker of disappointment way in the back of his eyes. Lisa felt a moment’s remorse because she knew she was responsible for both. But she had to hand it to him; there was no resentment or condescension in his attitude.
She would have preferred it if he hadn’t called attention to his strength and agility by spinning a high-backed chair around with one hand and effortlessly placing it next to his desk, but she couldn’t fault the polite tilt of his head as he motioned for her to take a seat, or the way he moved to the other side of his desk and sat down.
He reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out a form. With pencil in hand, he said, “Let’s start with your full name. First, last and middle initial.”
She handled the first and last names well enough, but before she could tell him her middle initial, her gaze got stuck on his hands, and her mind floundered. He didn’t have the hands of a man who pushed a pencil for a living. His hands were large and callused, his fingers blunt tipped, his knuckles scraped.
“Is your middle initial really D?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“For Danger?“
“It’s D,” she said automatically, “for Destiny.”
Realizing what she’d said, she glanced up and found him watching her. Trying for an even, composed voice, she said, “Really. My name is Lisa Destiny Markman. My parents didn’t like me very much.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
“The beginning?” she asked.
“When were you born?”
“You want me to start at the beginning of my life?”
“I need your date of birth. For the form.”
“Oh.” She glanced at the sheet of paper in front of him and rattled off the information he’d requested. Being careful not to make any noise releasing the breath she’d been holding, she stared at his down-turned eyes and told herself she was completely unaffected by this man’s quiet presence.
Wyatt jotted down information, checking the proper boxes, filling in the usual blanks. His heart beat a steady rhythm that had nothing to do with procedure. If he’d been with anyone else, he might have laughed to ease the tension in the room, but he glanced up from the form and found Lisa watching him. He couldn’t have laughed if he’d tried.
Being careful not to snap the pencil lead, he said, “What could your parents have possibly found not to like about you?”
She leaned toward him slightly. Tilting her face at a sassy angle, she said, “I know it’s hard to imagine, but I haven’t always been this shy and sweet.”
“You’re right. I do find that hard to believe.”
Wyatt heard her quick intake of breath and saw her eyes widen. He’d surprised her. He was amazed at how much satisfaction the knowledge gave him. However, her discomfiture didn’t last long. She closed her eyes, squared her shoulders and crossed her legs. Her red raincoat fell open, and Wyatt had his first up-close glimpse of her legs. Her ankles were small, her calves slightly muscular, her knees narrow. The skin just below the hem of her red Western skirt looked soft and supple and oh so touchable. His reaction was eager and as predictable as nightfall. By the time he managed to drag his gaze back to her face, she was staring at him knowingly.
She covered her legs with her coat and cast him an arch look that spoke volumes. “Shall we continue?”
Despite the fact that the room had warmed at least ten degrees and the blood seemed to have left his brain and was heading for a place south of there, Wyatt found himself wondering where Lisa Markman had acquired her spunk, her intelligence and her independent spirit. Before him sat a woman who could smile at whim and think on her feet. She was sassy and appealing, and she knew it. There weren’t many things more stimulating than a woman who recognized her own sensuality.
“If you don’t mind, Sheriff, I’d like to get back to the report.”
Wyatt reined in his wayward thoughts and did his best to ignore the pulsing knot that had formed low in his stomach. He asked her pertinent questions and finished filling out the form, an indefinable feeling of rightness growing with every breath he took. Lisa might have turned down his invitation to dinner last night, but she was as aware of the attraction between them as he was.
He would have preferred her to be open about her feelings, but he wasn’t opposed to a woman playing hard to get. Doing everything in his power to keep the smile of anticipation off his face, he turned the form around and indicated the place for her to sign.
She wrote her name with a flourish, then rose to her feet. Rising, too, he said, “We’re not talking about a pie thief here. We’re talking about grand theft auto, and I assure you I’ll do everything in my power to get to the bottom of it and get your car back to you. Now, how about that dinner I mentioned last night?”
He liked the look of genuine surprise that crossed her face, but when she raised her chin a notch, then paused as if she was searching for the proper words, he had a feeling he was in for another letdown. When she finally spoke, it was in a soft, conciliatory tone of voice he didn’t like one bit. “I hope you don’t take offense, Sheriff, but I’m afraid you’re just not my type.”
Wyatt felt his face fall, but she wasn’t finished. “Just so you know, I already have plans for the evening. I promised Butch Brunner I’d drive down to Rosebud to watch him ride a bronco at the rodeo tonight.”
As if she didn’t expect a reply, she turned and strode to the door. Ignoring his earlier warning about bad luck, she opened her umbrella and walked out into the rain.
* * *
Lisa smoothed a wrinkle from the lightweight denim jumper then pressed a tack into the lattice boards that divided the display window from the rest of the store. She knew it was late in the season to try to sell summer clothing, but she was hoping a new display and sale prices would lure the women of Jasper Gulch inside. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to get to Pierre to pick up the new fall merchandise, now that she was without a car, but she knew she’d find a way just like she always did.
She was probably the only person in the world who would move more than five hundred miles in order to open a clothing store in a town whose population barely reached five hundred during the worst drought in more than two decades. Still, she’d arrived in mid-July full of high hopes and big plans. Other than a flash-in-the-pan sales frenzy in the days before last month’s town picnic, business hadn’t exactly been booming. But the drought was over, and for now at least, the rain had stopped. Surely that was a good sign.
Melody McCully rapped on the window and waved as she passed by. Since Lisa’s hands were full of tacks and a man’s Western shirt, she gave Melody a wink and a smile that earned her a gesture that would have been unbecoming on anybody else. Lisa’s smile hovered around the edges of her mouth for a long time after she’d turned back to her task.
Mel McCully is nothing like her brother.
She jerked, as much from the thought of Wyatt as from the pain in the tip of the finger that had gotten in the way of one of her strategically placed tacks. Popping her finger into her mouth, she glanced out the window just in time to see Opal Graham and Isabell Pruitt avert their beady eyes and raise their self-righteous little chins.
Lisa recognized the open censure on their faces. For the life of her, she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it. They hadn’t so much as spoken to her, so how could they possibly dislike her? Surely her hopes and dreams weren’t so much different than theirs had been when they were her age. At thirty, all Lisa wanted was a home, a family, a way to make ends meet and a man to love. When it came to a home, she wasn’t fussy. Any four walls would do. After all, she’d lived in enough places to know that it wasn’t the structure that brought security. She knew exactly what she was looking for in a man. Glancing at the racks and shelves containing everything from men’s work clothes to women’s skirts to children’s play clothes, she knew she could make her store a success, too. She just had to be patient.
The bell over the front door jingled. There, see? The customers are starting to come already. She had a smile ready before she could turn around.
Louetta Graham mumbled a shy greeting then quickly averted her eyes. Glancing at her watch, Lisa toned down the brightness of her smile a little and said, “Goodness, Louetta, I had no idea it was eleven-thirty already. Your arrival is just like clockwork.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
Lisa did everything in her power to soften her smile even more. Honestly, she’d never come across anyone more shy than Opal Graham’s daughter. Every time she saw Louetta, Lisa thought of a stray cat. Maybe it was her drab brown hair; or maybe it was the way she skirted the edges of a room to keep from coming face-to-face with anyone.
“Well. Um. I guess I’ll be going,” she whispered, her eyes on the old brown floorboards at her feet.
“You don’t have to go,” Lisa murmured. “You’re more than welcome to browse. Business has been kind of slow lately, and I look forward to your visits to my store.”
“You do?”
Lisa nodded.
“I’m glad, because coming here is the highlight of my day.”
Louetta flushed, and Lisa hid a smile to herself. Those were the most words she’d heard Louetta string together since she’d started coming here at exactly eleven-thirty a.m. five days ago.