AlmostHome

Almost Home

India Masters

Haley Kilpatrick knows one
thing—men are trouble. And that goes double for cowboys with killer smiles,
smooth lines and kisses that can melt a girl’s brain. She’s come to town to
claim an inheritance, not the interest of a blue-eyed charmer who has “cowboy
Casanova” written all over him. But Haley’s also done playing it safe and ready
to do what
she
wants for a change. And what she wants is Wyatt Brody for
some hot, Texas-style sex.

Wyatt’s always preferred a fast
roll in the hay to the trappings of a relationship, but when Haley rides into
town with an attitude equal parts innocent and intoxicating, he’s willing to
reconsider his single status. The lust between them flares hotter with every
encounter and something about Haley snares him in a way he’s never experienced.
Wyatt is prepared to do whatever it takes to get what he wants—and he wants
Haley. In his bed and in his home. Forever.

Almost Home

India Masters

Acknowledgments

To Elizabeth for her patience with show and tell. To Alvania
Scarborough for critiquing so many times I’m sure you’d sooner put your eyes
out than read it again. And to Julia Devlin for reading it even though this one
wasn’t your cup of tea, you city girl you. We are the ultimate threesome—and I
mean that in the best possible way.

Chapter One

Junction, Texas

“Stay in the damn truck, Snoop. Watch the trailer.” Haley
Kilpatrick jabbed her finger at the gargantuan Irish wolfhound clamoring to
follow her out of her ratty, old pickup. He barked, the sound deep and rusty,
lending an impression of fierceness the animal would never live up to. It was
pure sass, and anyone who knew him knew it, but he was better than any car
alarm on the market and damn good company too. She hopped out of the cab, boot
heels hitting the patched asphalt with a dull thud, and slammed the door. The
dog made a move for the window and she cut him off with a sharp gesture.

“It’s hotter’n a church full of whores on judgment day, you
wiry-haired mongrel, don’t make me roll the windows up. Stay.”

Satisfied the dog would stay put, she jammed her ancient
Resistol on her head, slung her cloth hobo over her shoulder, and stepped onto
the sidewalk. She hadn’t missed the cowboy staring at her outside the feed
store. He leaned casually against the wall, ankles crossed, thumbs hooked on
either side of his belt buckle, the ubiquitous toothpick between full lips.
Haley had seen hundreds just like him but he was prettier than most with a head
of blue-back hair that almost touched his shoulders. Thank goodness for the
dark sunglasses shielding her interest. Lord, she did love a man with long
hair. He grinned, blue eyes glinting with humor as he checked her out. Being on
the receiving end of that smile felt like getting struck by lightning. She only
hoped there wasn’t smoke coming out of her ears.

“That’s some dog you got there, darlin’,” he said, his drawl
Texas thick. Definitely a native.

“He’s been known to raise an eyebrow or two.”

“How come he’s only got one ear?”

“He’s a lover, not a fighter.” She pulled an envelope from
her bag, scrutinizing the address.

“My kind of dog.” He shoved away from the wall. “You lookin’
for some place in particular, ma’am?”

“Holden Petrie’s office? This is the right street number
but…”

The cowboy sent her another dazzling grin. “Oh, it’s the
right address, sure’nuff. See, Holden, he owns the feed store and keeps an
office in the back. Kind of unusual, I reckon, but he likes to keep his finger
on the pulse of the community, so to speak.”

She cocked her head, squinting at the window sign. Petrie’s
Ranch Supply, it proclaimed in bold red letters, and beneath it, in small gold
script—Holden M. Petrie, Attorney at Law (office in the back).

“Hmm, ranch supply and legal advice.”

“Two birds with one stone,” the cowboy agreed.

Haley shrugged. “It’s a concept. Why not just add Gossip
Mill on the end there and git’er done?”

His chuckle emerged a deep, rich rumble. “Because that would
be Margie’s Diner, yonder.” He tipped his head in the direction across the
street. “Where I’d be happy to take you to lunch when you finish your business
with Holden.” He followed her to the door and opened it for her. “Name’s Brody
and you are?”

Haley steeled herself, took off her sunglasses, and looked
him in the eye. “Late for my appointment.” Hooking her shades to the neck of
her tee shirt, she squared her shoulders and crossed the threshold. Her lips
curved at his soft laugh, and confident, “That’s all right, sweet pea, I like
my women sassy.”

The air smelled of sweet feed and hay combined with the tang
of raw lumber as outdoor scents wafted in from the large, rolling doors off to
the side. It was a rich aroma, heavy and appealing to people who worked hard
with no time off for vacations. This was no big box store, offering gadgets and
gimmicks. The shelves stocked supplements and liniment, barbed wire and pump
parts. It was a modest place, a little bit dusty and altogether comforting to a
girl who had grown up amongst ranchers. Haley’s boot heels kicked up dust motes
as she crossed the worn plank floors toward her future.

Holden Petrie’s law office was as unpretentious as the man
himself. He opened the door to his plainly furnished inner office to greet her,
offering a work-worn hand.

“Welcome to Junction, Miss Kilpatrick.” His accent was thick
but more cultured than the cowboy she’d just encountered. “You’re a hard woman
to track down.” He gestured to a chair and she sat.

“Well, between the rodeo circuit and training gigs, I don’t
light in one place for too long. Your letter caught up to me in Austin. I keep
a post office box there.”

Petrie smoothed his iron-gray hair, gave her a good old boy
smile and settled behind his desk to flip open a file.

“The estate’s pretty straightforward. Your aunt owned a few
thousand acres of land with two small houses on the property, some
outbuildings, several capped oil wells and a couple of natural gas wells.
You’ve a got a mile or so of frontage on the highway and the Llano River, along
with One-Eyed Jack’s Roadhouse just on the outskirts of town.”

“Auntie Jack owned a bar?”

Petrie leaned back in his chair with a chuckle. “That she
did. Opened it about ten years back hoping your pa would come home and run it
for her. Figured it was the only way she’d ever get to know you. Did a damn
good business too. Pool tables, country bands on the weekends. Poured a good
drink, didn’t skimp and was well liked enough that most of the customers took
their fights outside so as not to jeopardize her liquor license.

“Building’s got an apartment upstairs but that’s used mostly
for storage. Inventory’s included in the packet I have for you. Jack’s ranch
foreman quit last year so your nearest neighbor has been overseeing the place.
He’s the one found your aunt.”

Haley swallowed the ache that burned in her throat. She
wished she’d known Jacqueline Kilpatrick. Didn’t know why no one had ever told
her the woman existed. It would have been nice to have some family in this
world. Especially a woman, someone to help her navigate the pitfalls of life in
a world where men often ruled with an iron fist.

“Where’s she buried?”

“On a little rise about a mile or so from the house. Family
cemetery.”

Haley nodded and let the tears come. “Wish I’d known her.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Petrie got up and walked around
the desk, rested a hip on the edge and handed her a tissue. That small gesture
of consideration was nearly her undoing.

“Jack and your pa never got on. She thought he was a wastrel
and he thought she was a meddling old hen. I reckon your ma went along with him
just to keep the peace.” He gave her a shoulder pat and moved back behind his
desk, opened a drawer and pulled out several sets of keys.

“For the roadhouse, the apartment, storage sheds,” he
explained, showing her the labeled keys. “Gate key to the ranch, the houses,
her truck. I’ve been managing things so the utilities are up to date. Didn’t
know what your intentions might be but I’ve planned for several contingencies.
I have paperwork to transfer all the properties into your name, plus utilities,
and the liquor license to the roadhouse. Or, if you’d prefer, power of attorney
allowing me to sell her holdings and place the proceeds into an account in your
name.”

Haley nodded, blew her nose and stuffed the tissue in her
jean pocket.

“I’d like some time to think about it, if that’s okay.”

“Course it’s okay, sugar. You take as much time as you
need.” He pulled a manila envelope out of the file and handed it to her, along
with a cashier’s check for a staggering amount. “The will specified the cattle
should be sold, so Wyatt bought them—he’s the neighbor I told you about. He and
your aunt were close. Nearest thing to a mother he had after his own passed.”
He dropped the keys into the envelope and handed it to her. “Bank’s down at the
end of the street, there’s already an account in your name. All you need to do
is sign a signature card and they’ll issue a debit card. You can draw on the
funds any time.” He stood up, offered his hand. “I’m real sorry for your loss,
Miss Kilpatrick. Miss Jack was one of a kind.”

Haley rose and stuffed the envelope and check in her bag.
“What happened, Mr. Petrie? How’d she die?”

“From a fall.” He shook his head. “We all suspected foul
play but there wasn’t any real evidence. Just some scuff marks in the hayloft.
Seems she took a blow to the head but the coroner said that could have happened
when she fell. Ruled the death as undetermined.”

Murdered? Her jaw clenched. The one person who might have
loved her hadn’t had a chance. How could her pa have kept her aunt’s existence
from her? And to find out Jack’s death might not have been an accident? She
squared her shoulders, determined not to make a scene. She’d have plenty time
to think about it later. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Petrie. I’ll let you
know what I’m gonna do.”

The cowboy wasn’t there when Haley left the ranch supply
store cum attorney’s office, a fact for which she was grateful. She didn’t feel
up to swapping light banter with anyone at the moment. Snoop waited for her,
his massive head hanging out the driver’s window.

“Move your big, hairy ass over,” she said, climbing into the
truck. The dog moved over as she climbed behind the wheel, then stuck his wet
nose against her cheek with a mournful whine. She wrapped her arms around his solid
bulk, buried her face in his gray fur and sobbed like a baby.

“Aw, Snoop,” she said when the storm passed. “Looks like we
got us a home, buddy.” She jammed the key in the ignition and headed in search
of the bank and a grocery store.

Haley garnered more than her fair share of attention at the
local Wells Fargo, though she concluded her business as quickly as possible.
Fischer’s Market was another matter. While people smiled and were generally
friendly, she was a stranger and that made her an object of curiosity.

Pushing her cart down the aisles, Haley was more than
impressed with the selection. She loaded up on groceries and the necessary
hygiene products, hoping she wouldn’t have to come back to town for a good
little while. Being the object of people’s curiosity carried an odd feeling.
She didn’t mind people checking her out when she was making her rounds at a
rodeo, but trudging up to the checkout with eyes boring into her back left her
tired and emotionally wrung out.

“Good afternoon and welcome,” the cashier said with a bright
smile. “You new in town? Don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before.”

Haley forced a smile. “First time. Great variety though.”

“Thank you. We try. Saves folks the drive to Kerrville and
it’s the only way to compete with the big stores. You live here?”

Haley shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Maybe. I’ll have to see how
my dog and my horses like it.”

“Oh, I expect they’ll love it. My name’s Tracie Owens.”

“Nice to meet you, Tracie. I’m Haley Kilpatrick.”

Tracie gasped. “Jack’s niece.”

“That’s me.”

“Well, it’s real nice to meet you. You know how to find the
place?”

“Yeah. Holden drew me a map.”

“Then I’ll just say welcome to Junction. I hope you decide
to stay. It’d be nice to have another single girl my age to hang out with. That
is, if you’re lookin’ for a friend.”

Haley’s smile was genuine this time. “A girl can never have
too many friends.” To have even one female friend would be a first for her. She
handed Tracie her debit card and paid for her purchases. She was just getting
ready to head for the door when the good-looking cowboy showed up again.

“Well, if it ain’t the mystery woman with the hairy dog. Let
me help you with that, sweet pea.” He took hold of her cart.

“You again?” Haley sighed with impatience. The last thing
she needed was some man chasing her skirts—not that she ever wore skirts—but
she had plenty to deal with without adding the complication of a man. Even if
he was the hottest thing on two legs she’d ever seen. “I’m perfectly capable of
loading groceries into my truck, cowboy.”

“Y’all have met?” Tracie asked.

“We’ve howdied but we ain’t shook yet,” Hailey replied.

“Wyatt,” Tracie scolded. “You leave Miss Kilpatrick alone.
You’re gonna give her a bad impression of the men hereabouts.”

“Shoot, I’m harmless, Tracie,” the cowboy protested with an
unrepentant grin, then he did a double-take. “Wait. You’re Jack’s niece?”

“Jacqueline Kilpatrick was my aunt, yes.”

“Then we’ve got some business to discuss, ma’am. I’d like to
buy the place.” He bulled right ahead and aimed her cart out the door toward
her truck.

“I ain’t even seen it yet. I don’t know if I want to sell it
or not.”

“Well, if you do, I’m your man. I’ll give you a fair price.”
He plunked her grocery bags in the bed of the truck. “Need any help finding
your way?”

“I got a map.”

“I take it that’s a no.”

“Reckon so.”

“All right.” He tugged the brim of his Stetson and backed
away. “Oh, hey, did Holden tell you about the bird?”

Haley blinked. “Bird?”

The hunky cowboy laughed. “Big gray parrot. Can’t miss him.
Talks up a storm.”

* * * * *

Despite the drought, the pastures were ripe with thick green
grass. Groves of live oak and pecans dotted the landscape, offering protection
from the wind. Near as she could tell, her aunt’s ranch was a little slice of
heaven set down in the middle of Texas. The lane leading to the house needed
grading but Haley suspected there must be equipment in one of the outbuildings
she could use to smooth out the ride.

Haley twisted the key in the lock and paused for a long
moment. Snoop leaned against her, pushed his muzzle into her hand and whined in
sympathy. “All right. Let’s do this, buddy.” She opened the door and uttered a
soft, “Oh.”

The cozy, rustic space captivated her with its maple brown
and gold hued flagstone floors and comfortable leather furniture. Vaulted
ceilings highlighted hand-hewn beams. Wide plank stairs flanked the modern
kitchen, undoubtedly leading up to the bedrooms. A short hallway funneled
traffic to the back of the house where the current resident screeched in
displeasure.