Cowboy Take Me Away (8 page)

“There,” she said. “That should do it. Let’s see…got a computer with you? Phone?”

“Phone, yeah.”

“Then let me give you the Wi-Fi password. You’ve got no TV, so at least you’ll have some kind of connection to the outside world.”

She gave him the code in addition to a set of keys for the various buildings on the premises.

“If I’d known you were going to be here,” she said, “I’d have brought a few things for your fridge.”

“That’s okay. I’ll run up the highway to the Pic ’N Go later and grab some stuff to tide me over. I need to get gas, anyway.”

They went back into the kitchen at the same time a teenage girl popped through the back door. She had short, dark hair and wore a T-shirt with the shelter logo. A tattoo of vines swirling around a rose climbed up her thigh.

“I finished up in the cat cottage,” she said. “But they’re already pooping again. It never ends.”

“Luke,” Freddie Jo said, “this is Angela Cordero.”

Angela Cordero? Now Luke officially felt old. She’d been about six years old when he’d lived there before. He remembered her as a skinny kid with dark, straight hair and a bright, sunshiny smile in spite of the fact that she’d been just as motherless as he was. More than once he’d seen her father bring her to Rosie’s, sit her on a stool at the counter, and together they’d have apple pie and milk shakes. Luke had sat in a booth at the back of the restaurant, drinking black coffee and imagining what it must be like to have a father who gave a damn.

“I remember,” he said. “Marc Cordero’s daughter.”

“Luke used to live here,” Freddie Jo said. “I think you might have been in the first grade back when he left. He’s going to be our new caretaker.”

“Great!” Angela said. “We can sure use the help around here.”

“So how are things at the vineyard?” Luke asked.

“About like always. My dad says we’re going to be in a world of hurt if it doesn’t rain soon. But he says that every year. ‘If that mold spreads, we’re gonna be in a world of hurt.’ ‘If that new varietal bombs, we’re gonna be in a world of hurt.’ ‘If that label doesn’t sell, we’re gonna be in a world of hurt.’ I swear I’ve lived in a world of hurt since the day I was born.”

“Angela is off to college next year,” Freddie Jo said.

Angela smiled. “Which means I’ll miss harvest.
Darn.
”

“Hard work?” Luke asked.

“My dad always says, ‘Everybody pulls their weight at harvest, doubly so if your name is Cordero.’” She rolled her eyes. “I doubt I’ll have a professor half as tough as my own father. I swear it’ll be like a four-year vacation.”

In spite of Angela’s complaints, Luke didn’t hear any animosity in her voice. That was unusual for the average teenager, but he guessed Angela was above average. She reminded him of Shannon at her age, with a lot less intensity and a lot more smiles.

“Gotta go,” Angela said. “Nice to meet you, Luke.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

After she left, Freddie Jo said, “Angela comes in after school and on weekends. She’s the only other paid employee. But we’ll lose her next year when she goes to college. Damned shame. She’s a good kid. We could use three more just like her, if only we had the money in the budget.”

“So the rest are volunteers?” Luke asked.

“Yeah. We have a few on the schedule right now, but they come and go.”

“Are things really that tight around here?”

“Expenses are up, and donations are down.”

“You’d think this town would support the shelter no matter what.”

“It’s not that people don’t want to. But when it’s between that and putting food on the table, you know what comes first. Angela’s doing a good job with our website and Facebook page and donations are coming in, but it could still be better. The festival is coming up, though. During that we can usually count on a bunch of adoptions and some decent donations.”

Luke couldn’t say he was looking forward to that. The festival was just one more place in this town where he’d felt as if he was on the outside looking in.

“Shannon said you had some rules for me,” Luke said.

“Only a few. Do you do drugs?”

“Nope.”

“Smoke?”

“Nope.”

“Entertain women after hours?”

“Okay, you’ve got me there. I just won’t do it here.”

“You catch on fast.” She gave him a grin. “Just so you know, you may have left town, but your reputation is still hanging around.”

“I’d be surprised if it wasn’t.”

“Heard you used to be pretty bad news. Or is that just a dirty rumor?”

“Well, normally I’d say you can’t believe everything you hear, but where I’m concerned, you probably can.”

“So you really were a juvenile delinquent?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. Juveniles don’t get much more delinquent than I was.”

“Nice to see you got over that.”

“What makes you think I got over being delinquent?”

A sly smile stole across her lips. “I was talking about the juvenile part.”

Luke liked this woman. Hell, he was inclined to like anyone who didn’t hold his past against him. Of course, she hadn’t lived there when he was a teenager whose goal in life was to disrupt life in Rainbow Valley as often as he could. He didn’t expect to get the same cheerful welcome from the rest of its citizens. To a point, he had to admit that was fair.

To a point.

“One more question,” Luke said.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about Russell.”

“Russell? You know about him?”

“Not exactly. But evidently Shannon is seeing him tonight.”

“He’s a dentist. Moved here about four months ago. He and Shannon date now and again.”

So Russell was her boyfriend. For some reason, picturing Shannon with another man made a twinge of jealousy slide along his nerves. But in spite of their history, Shannon wasn’t his. She never had been. So why did he feel as if he was losing something valuable even though it wasn’t his to begin with?

“Thanks for the help,” Luke said. “And thanks for talking Shannon into hiring me.”

“Teach the llamas not to spit, and we’re even.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Freddie Jo’s gaze turned serious. “Look, I know you and Shannon have history. Don’t know what it is. Don’t need to know. I’m just glad you’re here because we need the help something awful. Just always remember that even when Shannon’s barking, she’s not going to bite. She needs you too much for that.”

As Freddie Jo walked away, those words bounced around inside Luke’s head.
She needs you.

Damn it.
Why did she have to say that? She made it sound as if he were some kind of savior. He wasn’t. Not even close. If this place survived, fine. If not, that was fine, too, because he had no ties there at all.

Shannon was paying him to do a job. That was it. He intended to do that job to the best of his ability, but that was where his responsibility began—and ended. He didn’t want to depend on anyone, and he didn’t want anyone depending on him.

A
t two minutes till seven, Shannon sat with Russell in his Lexus, which was parked at the curb in front of her parents’ house. He had the visor pulled down and was looking at himself in the mirror. He fluffed his sandy-brown hair with his fingers, then turned his head left and right. What he was checking for, she didn’t know, because nothing about Russell was ever out of place. He was impeccably dressed as always, wearing a sport coat that was probably cashmere and slacks with creases sharp enough to cut steel.

He’d been raised in a wealthy family—his father a heart surgeon and his mother a high-powered real estate agent—so Shannon knew he was comfortable with money. Why he’d chosen to open a dental practice in Rainbow Valley, she still didn’t know. His explanation of
I was passing through once, liked it, and stayed,
didn’t make sense to her. Small town life didn’t seem quite right for him, and he didn’t appear to be much of an animal lover. So what was left to like?

He flipped the visor back up again and reached into the backseat to grab the bottle of wine he’d brought. “I hope this pairs well with what your mother is cooking.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“This is the first time I’ve been to your parents’ house. I want to make a good impression.”

He took a deep, calming breath, as if there was actually something to worry about. The moment Shannon told her mother she was dating the new dentist in town, she’d been beside herself with delight.

“You don’t have to be uptight about this,” Shannon said. “It’s just dinner.”

“Dinner with your mother. Don’t take this wrong, Shannon. But she’s a little…discerning.”

“Don’t you mean ‘demanding’?”
And demoralizing. And depressing. And—

“She was in the office a week ago for a cleaning. Velma had to go over her teeth twice before she thought they were clean enough. Plus, I’ve heard things.”

Shannon didn’t have to ask to know what “things” he was talking about. One Christmas her mother had insisted that Mary in the nativity scene in the town square be repainted so her smile would look more realistic. She said Mary wouldn’t have looked quite so happy after the rigors of childbirth, even if it did result in the baby Jesus.

They got out of the car and started up the walk. “Beautiful house,” Russell said.

Shannon agreed. She had always loved her parents’ house, from the stately wraparound front porch to the second-story stained glass windows to the turn-of-the-century millwork that accented the peak of every roof.

“It’s the original homestead of the Danforth estate,” Shannon said. “My parents bought it thirty years ago when Mildred Danforth moved to an assisted living facility in Austin. The homeless animals she was taking care of at the time were the first residents of the shelter. Actually, she once owned all the land that eventually became Rainbow Valley.”

“I heard she died fairly recently.”

“That’s right. Just before I moved back here.”

They went to the door and Shannon rang the bell. Several seconds later her mother opened the door. She wore a pair of gray slacks and a silk blouse, accompanied by just enough jewelry to make a statement without being ostentatious. Her hair was swept into a perfect chignon highlighted by a silver comb, evidence that she’d spent a few hours that day at Tasha’s Hair Boutique.

Astrid was tucked under her arm looking newly coiffed herself, wearing her usual pink bow and sweet doggy smile. She was an engaging little Pomeranian Loucinda treated like a third child, a perfectly behaved third child who did as she was told, barked only when spoken to, and was quite content to spend most of her days just lounging around looking beautiful. Neither of Loucinda’s daughters, for their own reasons, had ever been the lap dog she’d so desperately wanted.

“Dr. Morgensen,” Loucinda said, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m so glad you could come this evening.”

Russell took her hand. “Please. It’s Russell.”

“Russell,” she said with an ingratiating smile. “Do come in.”

She closed the door behind them, and Russell held out the wine. “This is for you.”

Setting Astrid down, Loucinda took the wine, admiring the vintage and the label. Shannon’s father, Jerome, came into the entry and shook Russell’s hand, but Loucinda cut that short by shoving the wine at him and escorting Russell into the living room herself.

When they entered the room, Shannon saw Eve sprawled on the plush Bridgewater sofa, poking away at her iPhone. Her hair, brassy red this week, hung in thick waves across her shoulders. She wore a tie-dyed skirt she’d gotten at a craft fair in Austin, flip-flops, and a skintight lime green shirt that left very little to the imagination from the waist up. It was as if a Woodstock hippie had traveled through time and landed in an Ethan Allen showroom.

“Hey, you guys.” She tucked her phone into her pocket and scooted over, making space for the two of them on the sofa. “I just sold a vintage brooch to a guy on eBay. I was finalizing the deal. If only I hadn’t caved in and sold it to him for twenty-five percent off, I might have actually made money on it.”

“So what sob story did you buy into this time?” Shannon asked.

“Hey, it wasn’t a sob story!” Eve said, then twisted her mouth with irritation. “Okay, so it was a sob story. He wants to give it to his wife to wear to their daughter’s wedding.”

Sucker
, Shannon thought, even though it was nice that Eve at least had a heart. In her profession, it meant she’d probably be broke forever, but to Eve, the story was way more important than the money.

They sat down on the sofa, and Astrid promptly leaped up and plopped down next to Russell.

“Oh, look at that!” Loucinda said, beaming. “Astrid likes you!”

But Shannon wasn’t entirely sure Russell was returning the love. Astrid was very sweet, but she had no radar when it came to snuggling up next to a receptive ear scratcher. Russell patted her head, then pulled his hand back to his lap and shifted uncomfortably.
The slacks
, his body language said.
Move away from the slacks.

Jerome sat down on his throne—a La-Z-Boy recliner in cranberry leather with power recline and Shiatsu massage. Ever since he’d retired from his law practice, he’d divided his time between that chair and Majestic Golf and Country Club, an exclusive property halfway between Rainbow Valley and Austin where the rich folks gathered for golf, gossip, and gastronomics.

“You have a lovely home,” Russell said.

“Why, thank you,” Loucinda said. “But it wasn’t always that way, you know. It was an absolute horror when we bought it. It hadn’t been updated since the 1930s, and there was
so
much to do. We recently went through another round of renovations to bring it into the twenty-first century.”

“That was fun,” Jerome muttered.

“That was
necessary
,” Loucinda said.

Jerome looked at Russell. “‘Necessary’ meant we had to paint all the walls exactly one shade darker. I’m still trying to figure that one out.”

From the look on Russell’s face, he didn’t know which person to side with. In the end, he just said nothing.

They made small talk for a few minutes about the weather and the economy, and then Loucinda announced it was time for dinner. They gathered in the dining room, where she’d set the table with one of her three china patterns and the most ornate silver she owned. Classical music filled the air, wafting out of the sound system she’d insisted on installing during their last renovation.

“So how’s business?” Shannon asked Eve as they sat down. “Aside from giving brooches away.”

“Great. I have two new estate sales booked. Lots of good stuff.” She turned to Loucinda. “Oh, Mom! I found something just for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“A Mickey Mouse wall clock. It would look
très chic
over your fireplace. A hundred and twenty-five bucks. Want me to reserve it for you?”

Loucinda gave Eve a long-suffering look, then turned to Russell. “I’m afraid Eve has a very odd sense of humor.”

Eve shook her head sadly. “I try to save the good stuff for family members, but do they appreciate it? No, they do
not
.”

“We already have something over our fireplace,” Loucinda said, then turned to Russell. “It’s a portrait of Emmaline North, Jerome’s mother. She died fifteen years ago.”

Russell glanced over the fireplace, and Shannon saw his face crinkle ever so slightly. No wonder. The portrait of Grandma North was a frightening thing. Shannon had always thought she looked like Cruella de Vil minus the two-tone hair and the full-length fur coat.

“It’s…lovely,” Russell said.

“It was painted by Frederick Durand,” Loucinda said. “He was one of the premier portrait artists of the mid-twentieth century. It cost Emmaline thousands to commission his work.”

If he was so damned good,
Shannon thought,
why couldn’t he make her smile?

But no matter what that portrait looked like, Loucinda would hang it over their fireplace until the world turned to dust. If she didn’t, she knew for a fact that Grandma North would crawl back from the grave, tell her how ungrateful she was, and make life hell for her for the rest of eternity.

They filled their plates and began to eat. Russell took a bite of Loucinda’s Monterrey Chicken and told her it was excellent. As Loucinda thanked him with the proper humility, Eve leaned over and whispered to Shannon under her breath. “He gets ten points for complimenting Mom’s cooking. If he reaches a hundred, he gets to marry you.”

Shannon glared at her sister.
Will you knock it off?

“So, Russell,” Jerome said, “you haven’t been in town long, but I hear your business is booming.”

“It keeps me busy,” Russell said. “But I don’t mind hard work. That’s what it takes to build a successful practice.”

“Ten more points,” Eve whispered.

“Your clinic is very attractive,” Loucinda said. “You have lovely taste.”

“I hope it’s not too masculine,” Russell said. “It probably needs a woman’s touch.”

“Twenty points,” Eve whispered.

Shannon kicked her sister under the table.

“So why did you become a dentist instead of a heart surgeon like your father?” Jerome asked.

“I considered cardiology,” Russell said. “But I decided I didn’t want to be on call for the rest of my life.” He smiled at Shannon. “I’m more suited to being a family man.”

When Loucinda looked delightfully impressed, Eve whispered, “He gets a hundred points for that alone. Can you hear the wedding bells?”

Shannon would have loved to have given her sister another swift kick, but it was all so close to the truth she had a hard time mustering one up.

“Shannon told me you and Jerome just got back from a cruise,” Russell said.

“Yes,” Loucinda said. “The weather was perfect, and the tours were spectacular. Of course, there was always the chance of pirates.”

“Mom, you were in the Mediterranean,” Eve said. “Not off the coast of Somalia.”

“You never know these days,” Loucinda said. “The world is a dangerous place.”

Russell and her parents expanded their vacation talk, soon discovering they’d both stayed at the same exclusive boutique hotel in Miami and had dinner at the same five-star restaurant. Shannon felt strangely disconnected from all of it. In spite of the fact that she’d done her share of high-class traveling with her family as a child, she’d never felt particularly in tune with that kind of lifestyle. She took a big swig of wine, then scooped up her last bite of chicken, wishing the evening was closer to being over.

“Hey, Shannon,” Eve said. “Heard you hired Luke Dawson to be the new caretaker at the sanctuary.”

Shannon froze, her fork hovering over her plate. It took about five seconds for her to thaw enough to look at her mother, whose eyes were wide with shock and whose fork was similarly stuck midair. Russell looked back and forth between them, clearly wondering what might be causing the floating flatware. Eve, of course, was still eating with the zeal of a lumberjack. The only thing that stopped Shannon from killing her sister right then and there was the overabundance of witnesses to the crime.

“Excuse me?” Loucinda said. “You hired
Luke Dawson
?”

“Yeah,” Shannon said, trying to sound as unconcerned as she could. “It’s only temporary. For three months or so.”

Loucinda’s face slowly took on a red tinge, and for a moment, Shannon seriously thought she might have choked on something.

“I heard he was in town for his father’s funeral a week or two ago,” Loucinda said, “but I thought he was long gone by now.”

“He came back.” Shannon stuck the bite of chicken in her mouth and swallowed, nearly choking herself.

“But I don’t understand,” Loucinda said in that tone of voice that suggested she’d rather be shouting than speaking rationally. “Why in the world would you hire Luke Dawson?”

“Who’s Luke Dawson?” Russell asked.

“He used to live here,” Eve said. “He raised holy hell in high school. Most people thought he was the devil himself.”

Russell blinked. “You hired the devil himself?”

“He’s not the devil,” Shannon said. “And he’s not a kid anymore.”

“I’ll say he’s not,” Eve said. “I saw him walking into the real estate office downtown the day of his father’s funeral. Wow. Just…
wow
.”

Shannon pursed her lips and gave her sister the Evil Eye. But Eve just smiled and kept on eating. Russell turned to Shannon, his brow furrowed. “So how old is this guy?”

“He and Shannon were in the same class at Rainbow Valley High,” Eve said. “So he’s probably twenty-nine.”

Twenty-nine years old…devil himself…double wow…

And that furrow in Russell’s brow grew deeper still.

Loucinda slowly lowered her fork to her plate, still gripping it so tightly her fingers whitened. “Luke is just an employee,” she said to Russell. “Performing manual labor at the shelter. That’s all.”
So he’s no competition for you. None at all. Feel free to date my daughter.

Shannon stood up, grabbing her plate. “Come on, Eve. Help me get dessert.”