Deep Dixie (19 page)

Oh, the many discussions this place had heard. The arguments, the plans, the tears, and laughter and so much more that had drifted up from this spot toward the high ceilings and beyond. Yet never once, she suspected, had any of those conversations been so pointed, so concise, so outright rude as she was about to be.
“
I cannot
believe
Aunt Sis invited you home with her, and you accepted! This is so typical.
”

“
Your aunt is prone to bringing in strays?
”

“
My aunt is prone to many things.
”
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“
What
’
s typical, though, is that some member of my family has acted without thinking, leaving me to come along behind and clean up the mess.
”

He laughed, just enough to let her know he was having fun with her but not so much as to imply he was delighting in her dilemma.
“
Wendy and I can clean up after ourselves, if that
’
s any help.
”

At the mention of Wendy, Dixie softened. Just a smidge.

Riley must have sensed that as he stepped toward her and lowered his voice.
“
You know, acting on an impulse is not always a bad thing. In fact, my personal belief is that if the impulse is well grounded—
”

“
Puh-Iease, Mr. Walker.
”
She held her hand up to stop him.
“
You
’
ve met my Aunt Sis—
”

“
And her little dog, too.
”

“
Does
anything
about that woman scream
well grounded
to you?
”

“
Just her taste in relatives.
”

“
You are making what I have to do very difficult.
”
She shut her eyes but could still feel him
near her like a deeply banked fire that radiated through a chilled winter room.

That scared her, scared her more than she knew how to handle. This man could spell the end of everything she held dear, and letting herself fall under his spell could only make matters worse. She had to fight it, keep her mind fixed on the danger he represented and not be lulled into complacency by the thrum of his rich, deep voice.

“
What do you have to do, Miss Fulton-Leigh? Besides prepare dinner?
”

“
Mr. Walker, I have to—and let me first say this is offered without any personal animosity and with all due regard befitting this particular situation—I
have
to tell you to get out of my house!
”

* * *

Riley leaned one shoulder up against the wall, crossed his arms then settled one ankle over the other, content to let his body language tell her he
’
d settled in for the long haul.
“
Seems like your version of Southern hospitality is missing a few letters, Miss Fulton-Leigh. It reads more like Southern hostility.
”

“
Well, isn
’
t that very clever of you to come up with that?
”

“
I thought so...
”
He restrained the grin that wanted so badly to break out.

“
And that would be an interesting thing to note if you were working the jumble puzzle in the newspaper.
”
She moved toward the door again as she spoke, extending her arm in a sweeping motion as if showing him the way out.
“
Or perhaps if you are ever a contestant on Wheel of Fortune—
”

“
Not interested.
”
He did not budge from where he stood.

“
Beg your pardon?
”
Her smile tightened.

“
In going on a game show.
”
He shook his head.
“
Not interested.
”

She opened her mouth, then shut it, scowled, and cocked her head, sending her still irresistibly tousled hair tumbling against her flawless neck.
“
I
’
m sorry, but I don
’
t understand that—
”

“
Think about it.
”
He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled in her direction, his arms still clamped over his chest. When they stood side by side, he leaned close enough to speak quietly, but without the implied intimacy of a whisper, in her ear.
“
Why would I need a glamorous game show? With all that tension?
”

He hit the last word hard and Dixie jumped, just enough so that only someone standing as close as he would notice it, but she did jump.

He went on.
“
That frenzied sense of anticipation?
”

She set her lips in a grim line and glared at him from the corners of her eyes.

“
The prospect of walking away with everything or being left with nothing but embarrassment and disappointment? Not to mention an enchanting hostess dripping charm and with the uncanny ability to get worked up over absolutely nothing at all?
”
He could tell by the set of her jaw just how badly she wanted to respond to that implication-packed bombshell, so he hurried on to make sure she didn
’
t get the chance.
“
Why would I want to go on a game show, Miss Fulton-Leigh, when I can stay put and get all that right here in your home?
”

If looks could kill...well, Riley thought, she might not have done him in but when he looked in those beautiful eyes, it did occur to him that he had seen warmer glints off the teeth of jagged-edged buzz saws.

“
You are reprehensible, do you know that?
”
she whispered.

“
My mother calls me a troublement.
”
He tried not to seem too proud of the title.

“
If only she would call you
home
.
”
Dixie held her ground.

“
She can
’
t. She isn
’
t at our home. She
’
s in the hospital.
”

Dixie started at that.
“
Oh, I
’
m sorry, I didn
’
t realize...
”
She touched her fingertips to her lips as if she wished that could somehow take back her flip remark.
“
I hope she
’
s all right.
”

“
Broken hip. She
’
s a fighter, though, she
’
ll be fine with therapy and time to recuperate.
”
He actually felt bad because Dixie so obviously felt bad.
“
That
’
s why I have Wendy with me this trip and why I have to take care of as much of the business of getting set up in our new home now as possible. When Momma is ready to join us, I
’
d like it to be one smooth transition into our new place.
”

“
I
’
m sure your mother will appreciate your thoughtfulness.

It
’
s always nice when someone takes another person
’
s situation into account while making plans that involve that other person.
”

“
Subtle,
”
he muttered, then lifted his hands in mock surrender.
“
Listen, Miss Fulton-Leigh, when your aunt invited me to come to your house, I never imagined it would come as a personal imposition on you. I just assumed...well, let
’
s just say it never crossed my mind that you
’
d be stuck with the extra cooking duties.
”

“
I won
’
t be...that is, I
wouldn
’
t
be, if you were actually staying.
”
She crossed the floor in front of him to a painted door with a glass knob.
“
I
’
m not cooking anything from scratch tonight.
”

The warped old door banged against its frame when she shimmied it open to reveal a long, narrow staircase descending into complete darkness.

“
Taking me to the cellar are you? Not only do you not want any witnesses, you don
’
t want anyone to find what you
’
ve done with the body.
”

“
Don
’
t be silly. Give me credit for knowing better than to hide the evidence of my misdeeds in my own basement, Mr. Walker.
”

He chuckled.

“
After all, I haven
’
t lived my entire life in a family of lunatics without picking up a few pointers along the way
”

His laughter died in his throat, making something of a choking sound as he swallowed hard. There was that reference again. In all the excitement of his decision today, he had forgotten about the vague rumors of eccentricities and his mother
’
s warnings.

Riley had met John Frederick face to face and had found the man to be of sound mind and exemplary spirit. And so far, he saw absolutely nothing lacking in Dixie
’
s character, except for that obvious shortsightedness on her part in not taking a shine to him immediately.Then there was the Judge, the man from whom Riley had taken the reins of control just today when he became the chief executive officer and senior stockholder in Fulton
’
s Cartage. Riley knew little of that man except what he
’
d seen on paper—a bold signature across the papers authorizing Howard Greenhow to negotiate the deal on his behalf.

Still, the man
was
a judge. Riley took comfort in that reminder. They didn
’
t let just anyone become a judge...unless, of course, your family ran an entire town! An uneasiness began to twist low in Riley
’
s gut. He raked his fingers back through his hair.

“
Mr. Walker? Hello?
”
Dixie snapped her fingers and he realized she
’
d been trying to get his attention.
“
I have to go downstairs now, to get something from the freezer for dinner tonight.
”

“
Oh, sure.
”
He swept out his open hand in a stereotypical
ladies first
gesture.
“
Let
’
s go.
”

“
I
’
ll
go, thank you. It won
’
t take long. I just have to bring a casserole or something up from
the freezer so I can warm it up.
”

“
Anything for the cause of warming things up, ma
’
am.
”
He stepped to the door, just inches away from her so that she would either have to move away or shove him down the stairs to be rid of him.
“
Why don
’
t we start with that cold shoulder you
’
re intent on giving me?
”

“
I do believe now you
’
re the one who
’
s got his words out of whack, Mr. Walker.
”
She pulled herself up to her full height, her hands behind her back, chin level, and her gaze fixed on his.
“
The thing you seem most interested in doing is
worming
, not
warming
. As in worming your way into my business, my family, my home—
”

“
Say, you
’
re pretty good with letters yourself. Maybe later on this evening we can tackle that jumble puzzle together.
”

“
Why don
’
t I just give you my edition of the paper and you can take it with you when you leave?
”