A Texas Chance (14 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

A
LL
THE
WAY
BACK
TO
A
USTIN
,
Cade’s mind was racing about his idea for a tribute book to Jaime. At last, here was something he could sink his teeth into that was meaningful, that wasn’t just killing time. When he got into town, he headed for Sophie’s, but his mind was on the book and how he would pitch it to his publishers. He would take the prints he’d framed by the hotel first, then go to Jenna’s and start culling through his photo files. Looking at the pictures of his friend would be hard as hell, but it felt right, and a bitter piece of the sorrow that had built a dam around his heart had been breached.

When he arrived at Sophie’s, he noticed immediately that her pickup was gone and was glad she’d insisted he have a key after one day when a delivery had been expected and she’d had to be away. He’d take the photos to the rooms they were meant for and see how his choices fit while he waited for her to return. She never left the place for long.

As he walked, he spotted the pile of mulch beside the chipper Armando had wanted, and he mentally approved. A great idea from a good man. He wondered if Sophie had thought about hiring Armando permanently to maintain the hotel grounds. The man had a gift for it, and he sure as hell worked hard.

He glanced over at the casita, as Armando called it. He’d meant to finish the wiring today, but he’d do that tomorrow, then start on the drywall. The image he’d had of it in his mind was taking form, and he was already envisioning having Sophie there to christen it. He wasn’t half bad at a massage himself, and if having his hands on her led to other things…

He was also beginning to see the hotel finished and with guests on the grounds. It would be Sophie’s dream, but he wasn’t ready to share her yet with those guests. He thought about what a great home this place could make, kids like Jonah and Addie racing over the grass, Sophie in a porch swing over there—

Oh, man. This wasn’t his home, and Sophie didn’t belong to him. His life was one day at a time, one minute, one second. Hers ran like clockwork. There was no middle ground for them. Besides, Sophie was intent on a fling, and his thoughts were drifting in a dangerous direction.

You are so gone over this woman,
Jesse had said.

No. She was making a home here, not him. He didn’t want that.

I so rocked your world,
she’d said astride him last night.

Cade laughed aloud now.
You did, Queenie
.
You absolutely did
.

And with his heart a little lighter about Jaime, Cade was more eager than ever for her to rock his world again.

But an hour later, he was still waiting. He didn’t have a phone number for Sophie, but Jenna would. He tried Jenna’s cell but only got voice mail. He took the prints to Sophie’s room, and laid them against the wall. They looked perfect to him, but he’d wanted to watch Sophie’s face when she first saw them, damn it. He’d give her a little while longer, even though he was eager to get to his laptop.

Cade realized suddenly that he was tired. He’d long ago learned to take advantage of spare moments to grab a few winks, and last night had been devoid of much rest. So he stretched out on Sophie’s bed.

And promptly fell asleep.

S
OPHIE
HAD
DELIBERATELY
kept herself busier than usual all day, but it hadn’t helped. Cade was still missing in action, and now she believed it must be a deliberate attempt to put distance between them. What she didn’t know was why.

Yes, it had been intense, and yes, she’d caught herself getting more emotional than was wise for a mere fling—but she hadn’t revealed even a hint of that to him, nor would she.

Anyway, she didn’t have the time or the energy to worry over whatever was going on with Cade, and she wasn’t going to dwell on the mistake that last night now seemed.

She had bigger problems.

The landscaper was still AWOL and hadn’t returned any of her several calls. He’d insisted on half his money up front to buy materials. That wasn’t an unusual request for small contractors, so she’d agreed. Only that had been the last she’d seen of him. She hadn’t been worried at first because he hadn’t been scheduled to work at that point and the job wasn’t ready for him.

Now it was. He should have shown up to work by now, or at least phoned her. Out of desperation, she’d gone looking for him this afternoon. She had no office address, but that, too, wasn’t unusual—the smaller contractors often operated from their homes and pickups. She did remember, though, the job he said he would be finishing before he could start on hers. It was an apartment complex on the far north end of Austin, and she’d gotten lost, winding through the hills.

She could blame the hills, but it was really her distraction that was at fault. Cade’s unexplained disappearance was part of it, of course, but he was a grown man; they weren’t a couple and he wasn’t her employee. She had no say in how he spent his time. She’d considered calling Jenna, but she was nowhere near ready for her friend to know Sophie had spent a torrid night tearing up the sheets with Jenna’s injured brother whom Sophie was supposed to be helping.

And then there was Kurt Barnstone. She shivered as she recalled their conversation and his threats. He’d won, he held the position she should have occupied. Why couldn’t he be satisfied with that? She just wanted him out of her life.

She located the apartment complex at last and drove the entire property looking for the landscaper, but he was nowhere to be found.

And then she spoke with the apartment manager who, in a matter of minutes, sent Sophie’s world spinning.

The landscaper had left town.

With Sophie’s money.

She wasn’t a fool, she tried to tell herself—contractors asked for a draw against materials all the time. But Sophie knew she’d cut corners—most of the bids she’d gotten were out of her budget, so she’d gone with the lowest one, a guy who seemed earnest and honest. He’d had a list of references but she hadn’t checked them because she was too busy, too tired.

And now she would pay.

The drive back was a blur as she frantically tried to whittle away her vision of the grounds to what she could do on her own with no more budget and even less time.

Armando could help. He wasn’t a landscape designer, but he had a feel for plants and was a hard worker, as were the others on his crew. She wondered if he could help her find more workers…but where would she find the money to pay for extra labor?

I could get my brother Jesse and my brother-in-law Vince to help,
Jenna had offered. Cade was also extremely resourceful and good with his hands.

No. She wouldn’t ask for a favor. She didn’t know Jesse or Vince, and Jenna worked too hard already. Cade had already done so much—even if he hadn’t disappeared last night.

Besides, she didn’t have the heavy equipment and she didn’t know where she could scrape up the extra money to rent it. She could ask Maura, but her friend had already been too generous to Sophie—who didn’t deserve it. Not if, she, with all her vaunted skills at assessing and managing people, had made such an elemental and costly mistake.

No, she’d just have to cut back on her ambitious plans. And find someone to replace the landscaper—quick. She still had the other half of the budgeted funds to fund the project. Not that the paltry amount would get her anywhere with a reputable landscaper....

Oh, God, she was so tired.

Then she pulled into the hotel’s driveway and spotted Cade’s car.

Sophie parked and dropped her head against the steering wheel. She could not deal with him, not now. She was desperate for time to think, to get a firm hold on her shaken control.

She sat there for a long moment, trying to decide what to do.

She could go to her workshop and forge ahead while she reordered her priorities and revised her plans.

Or she could look for Cade, find out why he was here and get one worry off her list. One little clearing in the maelstrom that threatened to overtake her if she didn’t hang on tightly to her poise and to the discipline that had gotten her this far.

Then he would return to Jenna’s, while she would do the smart thing and go to bed. Wake up tomorrow and pick up the pieces.

There. She had a plan.

Sophie went looking for Cade.

T
HE
LAST
PLACE
SHE
EXPECTED
to find him was in her bed, sound asleep.

She paused in the doorway, shaking her head. The sheer gall of the man—he thought it was okay to vanish, not tell her where he was or if he’d be back, then return when she wasn’t even there, let himself into her home and crawl into her bed? She’d bared her body to him and all but bared her soul, and this was how he treated her?

You bastard
. She took a step forward, ready to yell at him, to tell him exactly what she thought of him, the stupid, insensitive jerk—

Then she spotted them. Sweet heaven. The images she’d seen on his laptop screen, blown up large. They’d been stunning in miniature, but blown up…

They were beyond beautiful. She sank to a crouch before them, fingers covering her mouth in silent wonder. They were even framed, beautifully so. She knew exactly which room each would grace, and would have even if she hadn’t been part of the discussion.

Oh, Cade
… So this was what he’d spent the day doing.

“Do you like them?” His voice was rough with sleep.

She whirled on her knees. “Cade, they’re…” Her voice broke, and she was terribly afraid she was going to cry, so she averted her head.

“Sophie?” Worry shadowed his tone. “Are you okay?”

She reached for one of the prints and rose, struggling for the self-possession that had been second nature until she’d met this man. She’d been doing fine without him, and then he’d taken over the grounds, and the casita, and the decorating, and her bed. He’d invaded every part of her life, and he’d held her while she cried, and, oh God, when he was gone…

She fought hard to steady her voice. If she let herself weaken now… “Of course I like them. Let’s see how this one looks hung up.” She handled the artwork gently but crossed to the door with swift steps, grappling to hold herself together.

But when she heard his footsteps behind her, that hold began to buckle.

She hit the stairs nearly running.

S
OMETHING
WAS
WRONG
,
but he’d have to catch her to find out. Charging down the stairs after her, Cade saw her slip into the intended room and shut the door in his face.

What the hell? This wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for. “Sophie, what’s going on?”

No response.

He turned the knob and stepped into darkness. “Sophie?”

In the light from the hallway, he spotted her, slumped against the wall, the photograph on her lap, her graceful fingers stroking the frame. “Does that mean you like it?” he finally asked.

She glanced at him, then away—but not before he saw the tears in her eyes. Crying women were scary, that’s all there was to it. A smart man stayed away from them because no man on earth ever knew the right thing to say.

But this was Sophie the warrior, and she had her shoulders bowed, her whole posture that of unutterable weariness and defeat.

He must not be that smart because he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. He crossed the floor and sank down beside her.
You are so gone,
Jesse had said.
Looks that way, doesn’t it, big brother?
Gingerly, Cade wrapped one arm around those slender shoulders that bore too many burdens.

Sophie shuddered at his touch, but when he started to release her, she suddenly buried her face in his shoulder.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, stroking her hair with his free hand as he tucked her more firmly against him. “Let it out, Sophie. You don’t have to be so damn strong all the time.”

“Crying is pointless.” She tensed and tried to scramble to her feet.

He tightened his grip. She wasn’t going anywhere until he got to the bottom of her troubled state. “Sit still and tell me what’s wrong.” He frowned. “Is it the photographs?” He didn’t think so, but maybe…

“No!” She bolted up straight and faced him at last. “Oh, no, Cade. They’re absolutely stunning. They’re perfect. And now that I know that’s why you left without saying a word....”

He glanced away quickly.

“That’s not why.” Her voice went flat, and she visibly stiffened, drawing back from him.

“Stop.” He held her in place and met her gaze squarely. “It is…and it isn’t.”

“You had second thoughts. About last night, I mean.”

“No— Yes— I mean…didn’t you?”

A thousand emotions tripped over her features too swiftly for him to identify. “Of course,” she said coolly, staring past his shoulder. “It was…intense. Unexpected.”

“Yeah,” he responded, relieved that she understood.

“But that doesn’t have to be a problem,” she continued. “We simply won’t make the mistake again.”