A Texas Chance (4 page)

What Cade wanted was to crush the phone in his hands. “No.”

“Don’t say no yet. They’ll make it worth your while.”

“Not possible.”

“Cade, you’re under contract. You’ve missed a deadline. If they decide you’ve reneged on the contract terms, they could make you pay the advance back, and it’s a sizable chunk of change.”

“I don’t care. Tell them to go to hell.” He was not reliving the last several months or using his friend’s death to make more money, not for anything. “They have no right.”

“Not to your story, maybe, but to what you promised them when you signed the contract? Absolutely.”

“Then I’ll pay them back.”

“And then what? They’ve been financing your expeditions for ten years now. You torpedo your relationship with the publisher and your career will be over.”

I can’t do the work
.
And I’m nothing without it
.

“Just think it over, Cade. Not while you’re mad, but later.” She hesitated. “I’ll need your answer within two weeks. I can hold them off that long, but no longer.”

How could two weeks, hell, two years make any difference? He’d been physically well enough to work on the original concept for a while now, but that wasn’t the problem.

Maybe if he believed the shots he’d have to weed through wouldn’t turn out to be the last good ones he’d ever take, or if he didn’t have to stumble over memory after memory of Jaime… “I gotta go, Karen,” he said.

“Cade…”

“Not now. I’m…I’m sorry.”

“You can call me anytime to talk,” she responded. “You know that. I care about you, Cade, and not just as your agent.”

He ended the call as politely as he could, only too aware that she’d been a friend as much as a business partner and that she deserved better than for him to behave so unprofessionally. He’d never done anything like this before.

Then again he’d never been trapped in a cage of his own fear before. He’d been in countless hairy situations all over the world and never blinked an eye. But he’d never nearly died before, either, or been haunted by the death of someone whose only crime was being a friend to Cade. Nor had he ever faced losing the most essential element of his existence.

Sick to death of stumbling around in the labyrinth his mind had become, Cade jammed his phone in the top drawer and clenched his jaw. Dodging and doubting…who the hell had he become?

CHAPTER THREE

A
FEW
FRIENDS
…
RIGHT
.
Cade should have remembered that Jenna did nothing by halves and had never met a stranger in her entire life. He hung around the edges of the crowd for as long as he could stand it, letting himself be introduced to a whole bunch of people whose names he would never remember, and didn’t care to.

But none of them had been called Sophie, he was positive. So where was she, his sister’s latest charity case? Not that most of the people present couldn’t qualify for that same status. She’d invited several families for whom her nonprofit organization was building homes, as well as unemployed workers she thought needed a good meal or a chance to find jobs, the old lady next door, a waitress she liked…

He had to hand it to her, though. Everyone brought something, even if it was only a bag of chips, so all got fed but no one felt like a beggar. Every one of them thought the world of Jenna, that much was clear, and he couldn’t fault their taste. His baby sister had a heart of pure gold, one she took no care to guard. In the world of the downtrodden, Jenna was a rock star.

Good-natured as the gathering was, however, there were too many people for him, and their first question was always “what do you do?” After an hour or so, he slipped out the back door and decided to take a walk.

Instantly he was reminded that he was in a city. Jenna’s little street was not much traveled, but South Congress was only a handful of blocks away. Sirens and traffic, music escaping from some club, all within hearing distance.

Why had he said yes to coming here? If he was going to be grounded somewhere, West Texas suited him far better. There you could go a whole night and only hear the occasional coyote and the sound of the wind.

In West Texas, however, his family would watch his every move, alert to any sign he was pushing himself too hard—or worse, doing nothing at all—and worrying over how long it would be until they saw him again once he left. They loved him, of course, or they’d never have put up with the life he’d chosen. But acknowledging that love meant he’d have to acknowledge the guilt that came with it. He was a lousy son and brother, he saw now, and wondered why he’d been so blind to that before.

Maybe he should return and offer to work on his dad’s ranch. Hang around for a while.

And wasn’t that just a dandy way to dodge the fact that he didn’t know if he could ever resume the career that had been all he’d ever wanted since the day his dad had placed a camera in his ten-year-old hands?

Damn, but he was sick of himself. He’d never in his life felt lost or uncertain and now he was swamped by both feelings. To top it all off, he’d skipped out on Jenna’s party when all she’d asked was for him to help out a friend.

He’d go back inside and make nice soon, but for now, he just had to move. He let himself out through the front gate and onto the sidewalk.

S
OPHIE
DECIDED
TO
WALK
to Jenna’s party. The hotel was only eight blocks away, and she knew Jenna’s street didn’t have many parking spaces. Plus, the pickup she’d traded her snappy convertible for had proven invaluable, but it wasn’t good in crowded parking conditions.

The day had cooled a little, thank goodness, though summer nights remained very warm in Austin. She crossed South Congress Avenue, went down a block and turned west onto the street that would intersect with Jenna’s. The trees in this part of town were old, their branches creating canopies that cast shadows on the streets. The homes were small in the neighborhood, most of them frame and surrounded by abundant foliage. Roses scented the air, and once she caught a whiff of honeysuckle, which made her smile. She’d uncovered a patch of it on the grounds near the carriage house, and that had decided her to go with her instinct and make the apartment above it into the honeymoon suite.

Just then her heel twisted on the cracked, uneven sidewalk and she grabbed the nearby picket fence, silently cursing the high heels of her sandals. She was clearly out of practice at walking in anything but work boots or sneakers. The thought brought a grin. Who from her former corporate life would have imagined such from Sophie of the trim suits and killer heels?

“You okay, child?” called out a voice from the porch of the frame dwelling.

So much for thinking no one had witnessed her gracelessness. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Nice night for a walk, but you be careful, hear? World’s got some meanness in it nowadays.”

“I’m always careful, but thank you for your concern. I’m just headed over to a friend’s house.”

“Don’t you walk yourself home late, child. You get a cab or have some nice young fella walk you back.”

Sophie grinned to herself. She’d been in all the major cities of this country as well as several abroad and, as a single woman, caution was ingrained. The faceless woman was right, but she felt safe in this neighborhood. The more she walked through the area, the more she fell in love with it. SoCo might be trendy now, but the neighborhoods surrounding it still held their original charm, their hometown feel. Here and there the original modest dwelling had been replaced by new construction that took up almost the entire lot, but for the most part, the neighborhood remained a mix of young families drawn to the center of the city and old people who’d been around a long time. Not to mention neighbors who made sure perfect strangers were all right when they fell.

“You have a nice night now,” she called to the woman.

“Next time you’re by, you come visit. Name’s Mrs. Ransom.”

“I’m Sophie Carlisle, and I’d like that. Thank you.” She sincerely hoped that once the hotel was up and fully staffed, she’d have time for such luxuries.

Visit with neighbors
.
Imagine that
.

The worry that dogged her lifted a little with this pleasant glimpse of a possible future. She wouldn’t be making social calls anytime soon, but somewhere down the road…

Maybe she’d invite her new acquaintance, Mrs. Ransom, to a preview party, along with other neighbors. She’d already been planning an event for important figures in Austin who had contacts with those in the income brackets to afford her prices. Why not mix the two? It was such an Austin way to do things, mingling the glamorous with the down-home. That was her vision for the hotel, as well, to create the cachet of an exclusive hotel with the ambience of take-off-your-shoes-and-relax comfort. Everything she was doing was intended to make her guests feel that they’d entered a refuge, your grandmother’s home with five-star service and absolute privacy…and the option to mingle for those who wanted it.

She had hammocks ready to hang between trees for a lazy afternoon, bent willow furniture that was ideal for sitting on the porch with a glass of cold tea, and a variety of overstuffed chairs and sofas perfect for napping or settling in with a good book.

Lost in dreams of how her hotel would look, she nearly tripped over a lump at the edge of the sidewalk before realizing it was a dog. Her foot connected with his side before she could catch herself, but the animal only whimpered and didn’t move. She glanced around for signs of an owner, but the street was empty. She crouched, though not too close, as she scanned the long-haired form of what appeared to be an Irish setter. The dappled moonlight obscured her vision, and she dug in her purse for the little flashlight attached to her key chain.

“Hey, fella,” she said, hesitating before touching him. This dog couldn’t be in less knowledgeable hands. She’d never had a pet, though as a child she’d wanted one badly.

She couldn’t see any foaming at the mouth or anything—wasn’t that what dogs with rabies did? As she scanned the dog’s face, the eyes were sad and lost. The tail wagged faintly and he looked up, then his head collapsed back to the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Gingerly she ran her hands over matted fur. When she reached the dog’s hindquarters, he yelped. What had happened? Was he injured?

What should she do? Clearly she couldn’t pick up the dog, for fear of injuring him further, to say nothing of potential harm to herself, but she couldn’t just walk away.

In her hotel management days, she’d always made certain she and every one of her staff was trained in first aid and CPR, but none of that applied here.

Except one thing might.
Keep the patient calm
. “You’re okay, boy,” she said, and stroked his head.

The animal trembled, but as she continued to stroke and talk, he settled and closed his eyes.

Don’t die
.
Please don’t die
. Sophie shivered. She’d lost too many people in her life. She’d lain awake nights, wondering about their last moments and imagining what she could have done to prevent their deaths. This was not a human, or a dog she knew, but somehow every bit of
I wish I could have
thinking that had haunted her for years pressed in on her now. She could not let this animal die—or if he couldn’t be saved, she wasn’t going to let him die alone.

But if she called Animal Services, even if they were available at night, there was no telling if she’d be allowed to stay with the dog—likely not. She didn’t know a vet, didn’t have clue who might…except Jenna. She didn’t want to interrupt Jenna’s party, but she didn’t see an alternative.

Just as she pulled out her phone, she spotted a man approaching on the sidewalk.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Do you live around here?”

“Not really. I’m visiting.”

“Oh, dear. I need a veterinarian.”

He looked past her. “What happened to your dog?”

“It’s not mine. I found him like this.”

He sank to his knees a little stiffly, though his frame was tall and powerful. “Hey, boy.” He extended a hand and let the dog sniff it. The dog’s tail thumped again, but only once.

“Here.” She handed him the flashlight. “I don’t know anything about dogs, but he won’t move. When I touched his back legs, he cried out.”

The man ran his hands over the animal, and he felt his way down the front legs. When he reached the back ones, the dog trembled and whined piteously. “I don’t think we should try to move him yet.”

“I considered calling nine-one-one, but I doubt they’d appreciate it, and anyway, I don’t want him to get taken to a shelter.”

“But he’s not yours, you said.”

“He’s hurt and scared. He needs me.”

“He doesn’t know you.”

She frowned. “That doesn’t matter. He’s alone.” She gave him a look that had always sent her employees scurrying. “Never mind. I’ll handle this. There’s no need for you to hang around,” she said in her frostiest voice. “Don’t let me inconvenience you further.”

He scowled. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Do you want to help this dog or not?”

She seethed at his peremptory tone, but he was right. This was about the dog. She shoved the phone at him.

He punched in a set of numbers. “Delilah, who’s your vet?”

Delilah
.
Figures
.

“Will he take night calls?” He listened. “I came upon an injured dog on the street, an Irish setter that doesn’t want to move and is sensitive about his hindquarters. I’d like to talk to someone before moving him.” He waited for her to speak, then glanced over at Sophie. “What’s your cell number?”

She told him and he relayed it to the woman on the other end.

“Great. Thanks, Delilah. I’ll wait for his call.” He clicked off and handed her the phone.

She took it. “I’ll stay here and deal with it. You go on.”

“Well, now, like it up on that high horse, Queenie?”

Her eyes went to slits. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t dismiss me like some peon.”

“Look, I’m not sure what your problem is, but I’ve told you I don’t need you. Just return to your…Delilah. I’m sure she misses you, heaven knows why.”

He stared at her, his hand on the dog’s head. “All this tension you’re producing isn’t good for the dog.”

“
I’m
producing?” She barely resisted the urge to scream.

He grinned, and the sight of his smile silenced her. He might be a jerk, but he had a bone-melting smile, blast him. “I’m not the one doing all the yelling, Queenie.”

She seethed but didn’t speak.

He exhaled. “Sorry. I’m not in the greatest mood, but it’s not right to take that out on you.”

Their hands bumped on the dog’s head, and she yanked hers back as if burned. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Don’t give an inch, do you?” But he smiled, and there was a dangerous level of charm in that smile.

An awkward silence fell. Somehow, though, his presence was a comfort. He seemed to know something about dogs, and she was terrified that her inexperience would kill this poor creature.

Finally, Sophie unbent. “I’m sorry, too. Do you want to talk about it? Why you’re in a bad mood, that is?” After all, they were stuck here until the vet called.

“Huh?” He dragged himself from his reverie. “Oh—just family stuff. I have a kid sis who’s a sucker for a sob story, and she’s trying to guilt me into helping her latest charity case.” He shook his head. “And she plans to empty my wallet along the way.”