Somebody Like You (8 page)

Hank muttered something under his breath.

Cash ignored it. “I’m gonna tell it to you straight, Hank. Stipulating I had to be married by the time I’m thirty or I share the ranch with Vivi? Big mistake. I’m not gonna be manipulated. I’m not getting married. End of discussion.”

“So you’re gonna turn your back and let that gold digger steal the homestead?”

“No.” Cash shook his head. “I’m gonna let my grandfather’s widow inherit the house she’s living in. If she leaves, according to the will, she walks with two hundred thousand. She knows her half interest is worth way more. So I offered her three times that, but still no dice.”

“Over half a million. Not bad for eight months with one of the nicest men God ever put on Earth. Too bad about all of it. You, your Gramps,” Hank groused.

“I’d have to agree. On all counts.”

Hank let loose with enough curses to turn the air blue. “She hates it here. Why doesn’t she take the money and run?”

Cash shrugged.

“It ain’t right!” Hank spit tobacco juice into a can, then shot a glance at Cash. “Don’t tell Rosie I’m chewin’ out here.”

“What happens in the barn—” Cash spread his hands.

“Yeah, yeah.” Not done yet, Hank said, “It ain’t only the house, and you know that. If that was all she’d get, maybe I could stomach it. But you’ve worked your ass off on this ranch. Ever since you finished that degree of yours, you’ve devoted yourself to Whispering Pines. Hell, even before that, you spent every weekend your daddy didn’t need you over here helping Leo.”

“Yes, I did. And it seems that was a mistake.”

“You could contest the will.”

“We’ve been through this, Hank. I’m not going there.”

“Whispering Pines is your birthright.”

“Gramps owned it. He could do what he wanted with it.”

“Yeah, and if he’d been in his right mind, he’d have left it to you. Wouldn’t have married Vegas in the first place.”

“But he did.”

“What about that new house you built for yourself down by the lake?”

“I’m gonna dicker with Vivi a little. See if maybe she’ll sell me the piece of land it’s on free and clear. Separate it from the rest of the package.”

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”

“There’s nothing else I can do.” His voice rose in frustration, and several of the horses shifted uneasily, including the one Hank worked with.

Hank ran a hand over the mare’s flank. “Easy, girl.” His face tightened. “Never took you for a quitter.”

Cash’s own face darkened. “Careful.”

“You got options.”

“I’m not marrying Vivi, not taking my grandpa’s leavings.”

“No. Don’t expect you to do that. She does, though.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s made that crystal clear.”

“Still, I’ll repeat, you got options.” The old hand spit another stream of tobacco.

“Sometimes, the fight’s simply bigger than a fellow should take on.”

“Yeah, and sometimes a fella flat-assed doesn’t know what’s good for him.” Hank tossed the end of the leg wrap into the corner and stormed out of the barn.

“Shit.” Cash kicked a wooden stool beside him and sent it skittering. It hit the wall, and the mare snickered.

“That’s what I say.” Cash strode out into the bright sunshine, but the shadows followed.

Annelise, in the paddock, saw Hank stalk from the barn.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yes. I am. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of Cash’s way for a bit.”

“Why?”

“’Cause he’s stupider than a jackass today.”

“Okay.”

Some of the guys were hauling tables from an outbuilding, and she went to help with that. Because they’d been stored there after the last big to-do, they needed to be scrubbed before the barbecue. She pitched in, glad to have something to keep her busy.

Her mind drifted to her grandfather. She’d been too tired last night to do anything more than drop into bed after Cash left. Tonight she had to get busy digging on her laptop.

Grandpa was in remission. It could be months or even years before he came out of it. There was no way of knowing. But without the bone marrow transplant, the threat would always be there, hanging over his head like a loaded gun.

The chemo treatments had given them precious time, had done their job. Now she had to do hers.

Cash found her while she was taking a water break, sitting with her back against a tall oak.

“Hey, darlin’, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.” Whatever he and Hank had argued about had apparently blown over. Cash looked, right now, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

He sprawled beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Staubach plopped down in the grass beside him and fell instantly asleep, his nose twitching as he dreamed. No doubt he chased a long-eared jackrabbit through the meadows behind the barns.

Head propped on one hand, Cash reached up and casually took a lock of her hair between his fingers, playing with it. Annelise willed herself to sit still, though her stomach started tumbling around itself at his touch, at his presence. This man made her heart stumble. And that was bad. But if Cash could play it cool, so could she.

“Gonna share?” He nodded at her water bottle.

“Oh. Sure.” Their fingers touched as he took it from her, and the same electricity as before flooded her. Did he feel it?

If he did, he didn’t let on. He took a huge swallow and passed it back.

She took a smaller drink, placing her lips where his had been, remembering the accidental kiss on her stairs last night.

“Cash, would you mind if I worked with Shadow? I—”

“No. Stay away from him.”

“But—”

“No buts, Annie. Shadow’s not ready for you or anybody else yet. He’s got history. His last owner abused him.”

“I understand that.”

“Then you understand he might hurt you.”

“Cash, I’m a big girl. I’ve worked with and around horses all my life. I love them. I think I can make a difference with your beautiful gray horse.”

“I appreciate that, but the answer’s still no.”

She said nothing and took another sip of water.

“Now you’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” she groused.

“Sure you are. Look at you.”

“Without a mirror, that’s kind of difficult. I simply choose not to argue with you about it.”

“Good. Listen, I gotta go pick up my parents at the airport.” He took her hand in his, ran a thumb over the back of it. “Want to come with me?”

Oh, yes, she certainly did. But that would be foolhardy. And whatever else Georgia and Edmund Montjoy had or had not done, they’d not raised a fool for a daughter.

“No, thanks, Cash. I’ve still got a lot to do here.”

“I’m the boss.” He leaned in closer. He smelled good. Clean, healthy male. “I can get you excused from some of those duties.”

She pulled her hand from his and laid it on his cheek. “And as much as I’d like that, I don’t want anyone accusing me of not pulling my weight or of being boss’s pet.”

He pulled back. “Has someone insinuated—”

“No.” She shook her head. “They haven’t. And I want to keep it that way. Besides, I’m filthy. I don’t want your parents’ first impression of me to be the way I look—and smell—right now.”

Grinning, he put his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaled. “You smell good, Annie. Good enough to eat.”

Her hands were halfway to his head, to cradle him, pull him closer, when she caught herself. With a strangled laugh, she pushed him away. “Right. You’d better be careful. Someone’s going to lock you up in the loony bin.”

“Long as they lock you up with me, I don’t care.”

Laughing, Annelise stood. She’d come a long way in these two short days. Working, flirting, and feeling good about it. She’d never experienced this instant chemistry. This link. This intense magnetism. She liked it.

“My break’s over, boss. Gotta get back to work.” She met his eyes. “I’ll be looking forward to meeting your parents. They have to be great people.”

And she walked away without once glancing back. Self-preservation. Cash Hardeman spoke to her like no other man ever had.

Even with Doug, with whom she’d spent so much time, her response had been tepid at best.

With Cash? Steaming hot. She felt him in every cell of her being.

Yes, he was nice to look at—and wasn’t that the understatement of the century? But it was more than that. He was…he was good. He was honest. He was caring.

He was also trouble. In capital letters.

H
eaded for the airport, Cash sped down the interstate. Cool air blasting from the vents, the radio at full volume in his parents’ cherry-red Cadillac Escalade, he followed the flow of the crush of traffic around him. He sang along with Garth, his thumb drumming on the steering wheel.

He might be dusty boots and even dustier dashboard as a rule, but today he was picking up his mom. So he’d shined the Escalade from bumper to bumper. His mother was, after all, his favorite lady.

Staubach had carried on something awful at being left at home. If the car moved, he expected to be in it. The old mutt had stubbornly followed him clear to the end of the drive before sitting on his haunches to howl pathetically as Cash turned onto the main road. He’d have to give him double doggie treats when he got back.

In truth, the dog wasn’t the only creature feeling pathetic. His mind refused to clear. Normally, he loved time like this. Short stints away from everything. Away from the demands and responsibilities of the ranch, away from petty squabbling among the hands. From the bickering between Vivi and Rosie. Time alone to think.

Today, though, he didn’t much like being alone with his thoughts. He didn’t like the direction they kept taking. Didn’t like that he and Hank had argued.

A passing truck honked. What was his problem? Cash glared at the semi as it roared past and, though it was small of him, hoped a trooper waited around the next corner to pull his butt over.

Vivi.

Annie.

Neither woman gave him a moment’s peace. By themselves, either would be enough to drive a man to drink. But together? The two of them running around in his head was definitely cause for a six-pack or two.

Toss in that damnable codicil in Gramps’s will, and it was a wonder he wasn’t bonkers. He’d known the old man hoped he’d settle down and make him some grandbabies. What he hadn’t understood, he guessed, was how badly Gramps had wanted that. Maybe. And maybe it was simply the senility talking.

Cash couldn’t believe Gramps had wanted it enough to risk it all. Enough to throw away everything he and Grandma Edith had worked for. ’Cause that’s the way it was gonna turn out. Damned if Cash intended to get hitched in the next six months in order to keep the ranch. No piece of land was worth that. He was footloose and fancy-free, and that was exactly the way he wanted it.

If and when he got married, it would be his decision, his choice. The time, the place, and the bride.

Yet the thought of walking away from Whispering Pines, of turning over the reins to Showgirl really pissed him off. Despite what he’d told Hank, he wasn’t at all sure he could work with Vivi. When it came right down to it, would he walk rather than spend day after day after day butting heads with her? If he did relinquish his rights, he’d lay odds on Vivi selling the ranch immediately to a third party and heading back to Vegas in search of her next victim. If she stayed put, she’d run the Pines into the ground in under a year.

Either way, the ranch would be lost to him, his grandfather’s legacy kaput.

Cash knew with a bone-deep certainty that any amount of money he proposed wouldn’t be enough. Vivi had turned down every offer he’d made. Nope, she would sell the place to someone else and for less money—simply to spite him.

So many had made the Pines their home. Rosie and Hank, the wranglers and ranch hands. A lot of good people would suffer if he couldn’t reach some sort of compromise. His jaw tightened as the weight settled more heavily on his shoulders.

And the pretty little house he’d built with his own hands, his own sweat. He’d situated it down by the lake on the far corner of Gramps’s land, figuring it would be home forever. He liked the solitude. Loved the land.

A dull ache settled behind Cash’s eyes and refused to budge.

He missed his grandfather. Missed their morning talks over coffee, their walks by the old fishing hole. He missed the smell of Gramps’s cherry pipe tobacco and the mints he carried in his pocket. He missed his voice, his quick wit. Even with the fog slowly taking over his mind, he’d still been able to hold up his end of any conversation.

Cash had never begrudged his grandfather anything, but if Leo—in a moment of irrationalness—had needed a sexy, young thing, why couldn’t he simply have bought one a big old pair of diamond earrings or a bracelet or something, bedded her, then come on home? Why’d he have to put a ring on it and bring her home as his wife?

And why had this man who’d never been sick a day in his life suddenly keeled over from a heart attack and died, leaving Cash to deal with the devious, scheming bride turned widow? Vivi managed to ruffle everyone’s feathers. Running interference between her and the ranch hands, his sister, and his parents had practically turned into a full-time job.

The funeral barely behind them, the grieving widow had wasted no time putting her stamp on things. She’d hired a crew of designers from Dallas to redo the old farm house. The place had great bones. But Gramps hadn’t changed a thing since Grandma Edith had passed away eight years ago. The same cabbage-rose wallpaper had hung in the living and dining rooms. The linoleum in the kitchen had been worn and faded and the furniture comfortable but well-worn. Grandma’s collection of tea kettles had filled the breakfast nook’s hutch.

Not anymore. The house had been done over from top to bottom in slick, bright colors and fussy furniture. Cash felt like a stranger in the house he’d practically grown up in. More than once, Vivi had offered to share it with him. All he had to do was marry her.

Hell would freeze over first.

Then there was Annie. He’d known her two days now, but it seemed like forever. Felt as though he’d waited for her always.

And wasn’t that gibberish? Beneath his dark glasses, he rubbed at the tic in his eye. If he said something like that to any of the guys, they’d lock him in a rubber room. And rightly so.

Annie was intelligent, fun, unexpected, and damned easy on the eyes. He sighed and swerved the Escalade around some slower moving traffic. His exit was coming up, so he slid back into the right-hand lane.

He’d like to say she was comfortable to be with because she was. But at the same time, he felt worked up when he was with her. Agitated. Yeah, a sexual thing. The woman gave off heat without even trying. Simply looking at her made him want to turn caveman and drag her off to his bed. Hardly a good thing since she worked for him. Maybe he should just fire her, cart her off to bed, and be done with it.

Something was fishy, though. She shut down when the conversation turned to her. Hell, she wouldn’t even fill out the paperwork so he could cut her a paycheck. Every time he brought up anything personal, she talked her way around the barn and back without really telling him a thing. She was close-mouthed. Hardly the basis for a good relationship.

But then, he didn’t really want a relationship with her, did he?

She hadn’t bought much at Sadler’s, had brought less than nothing with her. Exactly what he’d expect from someone on the run. He figured one morning she wouldn’t show up for work, and he’d head on over to Dottie’s place to find her gone without so much as a note. Not a clue as to why or where she’d gone.

Wasn’t that essentially what his pal Brawley had done to Maggie? Led her on, then cut and run? Cash had been the one left behind to help her pick up the pieces. Not pretty.

He and Annie really didn’t have a “thing,” though, did they? Might be best if she did take off before whatever was going on between them developed into more.

His mind worried the situation like a tongue on a sore tooth. Annie’s manners, her jewelry, the new Harley. Had to be some money someplace.

He’d been born and raised here. This was home. But Annie? What was she doing in Maverick Junction, Texas? Cash reached for the mug of iced tea he’d brought along and took a swig. What brought her here, and why did he care? It was none of his business. None whatsoever. And he’d do well to remember that.

Still, as he exited the main highway and took the ramp to the airport, his mind drifted to last night. That simple, accidental kiss had burned him. But when they’d both pulled away, she looked surprised but unaffected.

Annie was a hard nut to crack. If he was smart, he wouldn’t even try.

Annelise finished the last of her chores, then scurried into the little bathroom at the back of the barn. She washed up as best she could and slipped into the fresh top she’d tucked into her saddlebag that morning.

She sighed, relishing the feel of silk against her skin. She loved this blouse. She’d bought it in Paris at one of the last runway shows she’d attended. It was a world apart from the cotton tanks she’d picked up at Sadler’s.

Giving Hank a shouted good-bye, she escaped into the sunlight. She had plans.

When she straddled her Harley and slid on her helmet, she accepted she’d willingly give up silk forever for this. She dropped her dark glasses into place and with the wind in her face, headed to town.

Staying busy was her key to maintaining her sanity, because she would go nuts if she didn’t do something while waiting to hear from Ron. Grandpa was all right—for now. He was back home, living life. True, he was a ticking bomb, but it wouldn’t go off today or tomorrow.

The treatments had bought them some time. But she couldn’t just sit and twiddle her thumbs. Better that she get her hands dirty, spruce up Dottie’s apartment, and make it her own—even if only for a short while. Dottie had taken her in and given her a place to live. A home. Her very first on her own. The least she could do was leave it a somewhat better place than she’d found it.

First order of business—some different furniture, and she knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted the broken-in, chocolate-brown couch she’d spotted in the store window the night before. It was perfect.

She parked in the same spot she had two mornings ago when she’d first ridden into Maverick Junction. BC. Before Cash. It blew her mind how so much had happened in such a short time.

Cash. That cowboy could matter to her—a lot—if she let him. But the foundation of their relationship had been built on dishonesty.

Now that she knew him better, she didn’t doubt for a heartbeat he’d boot her out of his life when he discovered the truth, that she’d been less than straightforward with him. And he would find her out. Eventually. Somehow. It was simply a matter of time.

Best-case scenario would be her coming clean and telling him who she really was and what she was doing here. But that would change everything. Would ruin the easygoing give and take between them, between herself and the other ranch hands, the people in town. Money always changed things—whether you had it or didn’t have it. It got in the way.

Before she told anyone, she wanted a chance for them to get to know her.
Annie
. Not Annelise, the heiress to the Montjoy Oil fortune.

It made her stomach jittery to think of the house of cards she’d built. It made her stomach even more jittery to think of Cash. And that couldn’t be good.

The bell over the door jangled happily as she stepped inside LeRoy’s Used Furniture.

“Howdy.” A man appeared from the backroom. “Name’s LeRoy. What can I do for you?”

She didn’t bother to check the price, didn’t even think of bargaining with him. “Hello, LeRoy. I’m Annie, and I want the couch in the window.”

“It’s a good one.”

“I agree.”

“That do it for ya?” He picked up a pad and pen and an old pair of reading glasses.

“No, I’m going to take that mirror. The one in the corner.” She moved closer, saw several others leaning behind it. “Actually, LeRoy, I’d like all four of those mirrors.”

They’d be great in the apartment and would give the room the appearance of more space. She almost laughed. Could anything make those rooms look bigger? Well, she’d give it a go.

Surprised, LeRoy nodded and gathered them up.

She waded through the jumble of tables, lamps, and knickknacks, pointing at things as she went. “And I want this. And this.” An off-white wingback chair caught her eye, and she added it to her list.

She wandered around the crowded store, making her selections, mentally placing them in her small apartment, imagining what they’d look like with her paint choices. She’d spray-paint the metal mirror and the lamp to match the chair.

Standing in the center of the jumble, she raised her arms and pulled her hair up in a ponytail. “If I buy all this, is there any chance I can get it delivered? The only vehicle I have is my Harley.” She tilted her head toward the street.

“Oh, she’s a beauty,” he said. “Saw it the other day when you were in to Sally’s. Yes, ma’am, I surely can deliver this for you.”

“Tonight?”

He checked his watch and nodded slowly. “I’ve got a truck out back and a son and his friend with strong, young backs. I’m figurin’ you must be the gal rented Dottie’s place.”

Her body stiffened in surprise. Small towns and their gossip mills. People here seemed to know what she was going to do before she did. But at least it wasn’t splashed in full-color in the tabloids for the entire world’s viewing. And most of all, no one judged her or told her what she could and couldn’t do.

“Yes, LeRoy, I am.” She forced herself to relax. “You know, then, where all this has to go?”

“Yep, sure do.”

“One more thing. If I buy some paint, would you throw that on your truck, too, and deliver it with the furniture and things?”

“Be more than happy to.”

She paid him and then walked down the street to Sadler’s, color chips in hand. Once inside the eclectic store, she arranged for the paint to be mixed and delivered to LeRoy’s. Maybe she’d eat at Sally’s Place as long as she was here. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle the kitchen.

Besides, once she got back to Dottie’s, she had homework to do. It was way past time to get back to her search for her long-lost relative. No doubt Ron would turn up something, but in the meantime, she intended to do some cyberspace snooping of her own.

And while she was at Sally’s, she could ask around a bit. She’d tried with LeRoy, but he’d been a dead end. It was like walking a tightrope. If she was too subtle, she couldn’t unearth anything. Too specific, and she’d have the paparazzi swarming the town.