Ladd Springs (Ladd Springs, Book #1) (14 page)

Prince
Harris. She smiled at her new nickname for the man. Had a nice ring to it. Delaney’s
thoughts detoured back to the porch. What was he doing right now? She glanced
at the small clock on her dresser. It was eleven o’clock. Did he really intend
to stay all night? Would he sleep out there?

Now
what kind of body guard would that make me if I slept on the job
.

The
recollection threaded warm sensations of pleasure through her thoughts. Maybe
he could use some coffee. It would get colder as the night went on. Abruptly,
she rose. Grabbing a light jacket from her closet, she slipped it on and headed
outside.

Turning
the handle, she eased her head around the door jamb. Nick was sitting in the
far chair, still as night. His eyes sought hers through the dim light. Only the
rhythmic sawing of crickets and katydids came between them.

“You
shouldn’t be out here,” he said.

“Why—do
you think he’s come back? Did you hear something?” Nerves drummed in her
midsection as she glanced out into the black of night.

“No.”

She
breathed easy.

“That’s
not what I’m referring to.”

“Oh.”
Her heart tripped. There was no mistaking the intent of his words. Spoken low,
but spoken clearly, she understood what he was insinuating. She ventured out
anyway. Well, he was a man, wasn’t he? Men forever made innuendos, were always on
the prowl for a willing partner. It didn’t mean anything if a woman didn’t let
it.

Besides,
she wasn’t out here to flirt with him. She was out here to help him. “Actually,
I wondered if maybe you could use a cup of coffee.”

“No
thanks.”

“But
how will you stay awake?”

“It’s
not a problem.”

Idling,
she said, “That chair can’t be comfortable.” At six four, Nick dwarfed the rocker,
the seat barely wide enough to accommodate him.

“It’ll
do.”

“You
know,” she said, padding her socked feet closer to him. “I appreciate you doing
this...” Delaney slid her gaze around the porch. “Standing watch and all.” She
felt a tiny rise of embarrassment, magnified by the slow grin pulling at his
mouth. “You must be tired, and with the front door locked, I should be fine.”

“It’s
no trouble, Delaney, though your repeated attempts to get rid of me are duly
noted.”

“What?”
She evaded his quiet, knowing smile and objected, “I’m not trying to get rid of
you. All I’m saying—”

Nick
raised a swift finger to his lips.

Did
he hear something? Delaney took two steps closer to him, stopping behind the
rocker next to his. “What?” she whispered. “Is someone out there?”

He
shook his head. “Just didn’t want you to ruin the moment.”

Indignation
flared hot in her breast, fueled by his mocking grin. “If you insist on
standing out here,” Nick said, “why not have a seat? Less visible that way.”

Delaney
didn’t know whether to kick his chair or sit, as he suggested.

Nick
chuckled softly. “C’mon, I won’t bite.”

Wasn’t
he the one who said it wasn’t a good idea for her to be out here? But sit she
did, pulling the jacket more tightly around her shoulders. Not like she could
sleep, knowing he was out on her porch, that someone might be lurking out in
the dark. Delaney glanced to her side. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Perfect
temperature. Reminds me of the mountains of my youth.”

“You
grew up around mountains? Where?” she asked, suddenly intrigued.

He
turned to her, his gaze roaming her seated figure. “Montana.”

“Montana?”
Why did that surprise her? Because she pegged him for a city boy? Delaney
looked down at the planked floor. Of course, he did
look
as if he
belonged in the mountains. She recalled that first day with him on the trail,
when he interrupted her as she spied the men in the woods. It had struck her
then how at home he seemed in the wooded terrain. Nick Harris had rugged good
looks. Skin lined from years in the sun, his build strong and capable, he could
easily pass for a rancher or a lumberjack. His attire contributed to the aura.
Jeans and boots seemed to be the staple of his attire.

But
mountain men didn’t drive sports sedans. They drove trucks.

“Ever
been?” he asked.

Delaney
turned back to him. “Been where?”

“Montana,”
he chided gently.

“Oh.”
She shook her head. “No.” Delaney hadn’t been anywhere but Tennessee. In fact—she
lifted her head and gazed out into the dark—she’d never been more than a
hundred miles from here.

“It’s
a beautiful state. My parents still live there. In a small town outside
Whitefish.”

“Whitefish?”

“Ever
heard of it?”

She
shook her head, ignorance swelling in her heart, the late night hour crowding
in.

Nick
smiled. “Not surprised. It’s pretty remote. Unless you’re familiar with Glacier
National Park, you’ve probably never heard of it.”

Delaney
wasn’t. Couldn’t pinpoint it on a map, couldn’t find it without searching for
it by name, because home was all she needed.

When
she didn’t reply, Nick remained quiet. Pulsating sounds from the crickets and
frogs filled the porch, cold crept under the sleeves of her jacket. Neither
said a word. Delaney wondered what Nick’s life was like in Montana. Were those
mountains similar to Tennessee? She’d heard they were bigger, grander, but
mountain living was mountain living. Being surrounded by trees and hills
couldn’t be all that much different, could it?

Delaney
tucked her feet beneath her, the position hoarding warmth as she sat motionless.
Odd that she didn’t feel uncomfortable in his presence. Odd she didn’t feel the
need to talk, to make conversation. There was something about Nick that felt
easy, uncomplicated. It appealed to her.

“This
is a beautiful property, Delaney.” She tensed. The last thing she wanted to do
was rehash his designs on her land. “You and Felicity, this small town... It
reminds me of where I grew up.”

Her
ears sharpened. She wanted to hear more about Montana, how similar it was, how
different, but she didn’t want him to think she was interested. He might sense
it as weakness on her part and try again to convince her to sell.

“The
terrain is different, but the feel of the land, the people, it’s all the same. Guess
clean living and good people don’t look all that different, no matter where you
are.”

Delaney
tuned in.

“You’re
lucky to stay connected. Family and tradition is something you don’t miss until
you’re thousands of miles away.”

“Maybe
you can understand why I’m fighting so hard to keep Ladd Springs, then.”

He
nodded. “I do. It’s why my offer specifically included a section of land to
remain in your name. Yours and Felicity’s,” he corrected.

“A
section.” Delaney looked away. “As though I’d be happy with part and not all.”

“Sometimes
life changes what we want into what we need.”

She
didn’t need reminding she was in a bind—a bind that might cease—should she prove
Clem’s involvement with those men.

“I’m
not here to take you away from your home, Delaney. On the contrary. I want to ensure
this stays your home.”

Latching
her attention onto the outdoor light, the single floodlight hanging from the opposite
end of the porch, she replied quietly, “It already is.”

This
cabin was her home. It was her mother’s home. She wasn’t sharing it with
anyone. No one but Felicity.

“I’m
sorry,” Nick said. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject. After all,” he added,
and she could hear the smile in his voice. “You only came out to offer me
coffee.”

Chapter Fourteen

Delaney
awoke early the next morning and dragged herself into a hot shower. She hadn’t
slept worth a hoot all night. How could she? Between visions of a stranger
swirling around her cabin and thoughts of the formidable Nick Harris outside
her door, she was lucky to get a wink in edgewise!

She
was curious about his early life in the mountains, an existence that mirrored
her own. Until he made it sound like she was after more, and she’d promptly dismissed
herself from his presence. Truth was—she
didn’t
trust herself. She was
intrigued by his life but didn’t want him to take advantage of her interest. Didn’t
want him to trip her up. There was no way this land would fall into his hands. She
merely liked the idea that there was a positive side to the man.

The
man
.
Knowing Nick was outside her door was far more pleasurable than she had believed
possible. Finishing her shower in record time, she dressed, combed her wet
hair, firmed her resolve and went to the front door. Unlocking the knob, she
hoped he liked grits. It was about all she had at the moment.

“Rise
and shine,” she said and stuck her head outside. She glanced in both directions
and her heart fell. Did he not stay for the duration like he said he would?

Disappointment
seeped in as she slowly closed the door. Maybe the light of sunrise woke him. If
he
did
stay, she couldn’t imagine he stayed awake the entire time. He
must have fallen asleep at some point. Bypassing her kitchen, Delaney decided
against breakfast. She had too many things to do and not enough time to do
them. Packing the camera, her wallet and cell in the backpack, she slung it
over her shoulder and headed for the stables, wondering if she’d see Nick again
today.

But
by four o’clock there had been no sight of him. Not on her way to the stables, not
at the house, no sign of his car on the road as she drove into town. Delaney
parked her truck down the street from Fran’s Diner. It was the only space
available, which was unusual for a Sunday. Most folks around here were at home
this time of day.

But
not Fran. Her diner was seven days a week, breakfast, lunch and dinner. On more
than one occasion she’d been known to quip how the Lord understood a woman who
needed to work. His flock needed to eat and she was their servant. It was a
sentiment that appealed to Delaney. A woman needed to do what a woman needed to
do. From taking care of her family to taking care of business.

Delaney
swept inside the front door, the clang of bells loudly announcing her arrival. She
had yet to find out what had transpired between Nick and Felicity the other day
but Fran would know. Delaney scanned the bar counter, the red stools, the slew
of vacant tables. The place was empty. But this wasn’t her busy time. It was
the lull between the after church crowd and the dinner crowd, the latter not
set to arrive for another hour or so. A few booths were occupied, but no one
she knew. Which was surprising. Nine times out of ten, Delaney knew someone dining
at Fran’s.

“Hey
sugar!”

At
the familiar drawl, Delaney spotted Fran’s red hair through the window to the
kitchen, could even make out the blue eye shadow. The elder woman waved, then
pushed out through double doors. Dressed in starched white uniform, red apron
tied at her waist, Fran ran a zillion miles an hour, but she never passed up an
invitation to visit. Give her a wink and a wave and she was all yours—so long
as her patrons weren’t waiting for food.

Delaney
waited counterside. “Hi, Fran.”

The
older woman came over directly and met her with a warm embrace, a veil of
Shalimar perfume enveloping them. Pulling away, she noticed the scratches on Delaney’s
arms. “Good Lord! What happened to you?”

“Lost
a fight with a tree.”

Fran’s
brown eyes became saucers. “Did you fall
out
?”

Delaney
smiled. “Something like that.”

“Bless
your heart, child, but you need to leave this minute and see a doctor about
this!”

“It’s
not that bad.”

“Not
that bad? It looks like a bear tried snackin’ on you for lunch!”

Delaney
hadn’t come here to talk about her injuries. She’d come here to talk about
Nick. “It’s nothing, really. Listen, I wanted to ask you—did you see Felicity
here the other day?”

Fran’s
brow gathered in question. “Now, you know I was just about to ask about that
pretty daughter of yours. Does she need a peach pie?” She cast a hand toward
the front display case, golden pastry tops lining three levels of trays. “I
have three on the shelves right now.”

Grateful
they had moved into easier territory, Delaney gave an exasperated shake of her
head. “Between you and Ashley, the girl could eat her weight in pie!”

Fran
frowned. “Now you know Ashley doesn’t know her way around a peach orchard, let
alone a peach pie.”

Delaney
laughed. “How about you tell her that, not me?

Fran
brightened. “You know I do—every chance I get!”

It
was the running feud. Peach or blueberry. Ashley and Fran swapped title at the
county fair for who dished up the best pie, but both were delicious and packed
enough calories to see a girl through winter. It was a feud smart money steered
clear of. “Anyway,” Delaney resumed the business at hand, “I wanted to know if
you happened to see a man talking to Felicity when she was here the other day.”

Fran
fussed with the hair at her neck, several strands escaping the edges of her
hair net. “What kind a man we talking about?”

“A
tall man.” A very tall man, Delaney mused, transported back to his side in her
cabin last night. Standing arm-to-arm was when Delaney realized exactly how
tall. She swallowed. “With dark brown hair?”

Fran’s
recollection snapped and she wiped her brow, followed by a light tap to her
forehead. She pointed at Delaney and said, “Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. He
was in here on Wednesday, talking to her. Why?” Instantly circumspect, she lowered
her voice. “Is he trouble?”

“No,
no,” Delaney said. “I was just wondering if you happened to overhear what they
were saying.”

A
wicked grin seized hold of Fran’s mouth. “He was a handsome thing. You trying
to keep him away from Felicity, are you?”

The
statement struck Delaney. “Don’t you think he’s a bit old for her?”

Fran
returned a full-bellied laugh. “Oh, sugar, don’t be upset with me. When you get
to be my age, they all start lookin’ young!” She continued to laugh, but when
Delaney didn’t join her, she settled down and said, “Lord a’mercy, I didn’t
mean nothin’ by it. You know I only had eyes for Deacon, but he’s dead and
gone.” She fanned a hand over her mouth. “And you know me, I’m just a mouthful
of tomfoolery.”

“I
know,” Delaney replied, disturbed by the fact she had
been upset by the
silly remark.

“Anyway,
I don’t recall anything other than him talking to her about her flute and some
hotel. Serenity Springs, I think he said. Seemed harmless enough to me, so I
just kept an eye on him and kept to my business, you know what I mean? He
didn’t stay long. Line was a mile long out the door,” she said proudly,
pointing out the front. “And he knew it was best to get in it before he lost
his chance altogether.”

Delaney
remained mired in two words. Serenity Springs. Was that a hotel he owned? Or the
one he planned for Ladd Springs, should he ever get his hands on the title? Renewed
urgency swept through her. If the man was already making plans...

Did
he know something she didn’t know? Was he closer to getting the property than
she realized?

After
a brief discussion of food, kinfolk and current events, Delaney passed on the
pies and thanked Fran. Turning to go, she came face-to-face with Casey Owens. Long
black hair hung limp around the teenager’s face, her pale skin dotted red by
the stress of hormones and a far from easy life. Her black shirt only
accentuated the marks. A year shy of Felicity’s age, Casey was Annie’s
daughter, a girl who hadn’t fallen far from the tree. The hard line currently
underscoring her piercing blue eyes raised the hairs on the back of Delaney’s
neck. Casey looked like she had a score to settle, and if Delaney didn’t know
better, she was looking to settle it with
her
.

Delaney
side-stepped the teenager, but Casey stepped right with her. “Why do you hate
me so much?”

About
to push past the girl, Delaney hesitated. “What?”

“You
heard me,” she challenged. “Why do you hate me so much? I ain’t never done
anything to you.”

Delaney
suppressed the urge to respond. Best to keep this confrontation to a minimum. Casey
had a reputation for getting into trouble, and Delaney wanted no trouble with
her. But cut by the pain in the girl’s voice, she replied, “I don’t hate you.”

“You
want to cut me out of my inheritance all so you can have it for yourself. For
Felicity
.”

“You
don’t understand, Casey. It’s complicated.”

The
girl threw back her shoulders and angled forward, thumping her chest with her
forefinger. “Yes, I do. You hate me, else you wouldn’t be trying to cut me out
of what’s rightfully
mine
.”

Delaney
absorbed the sullen words, spoken by a child who was as much a victim as
anyone. But filling her mind with venom was dangerous. When it came to Casey,
arming her with animosity was like loading a shotgun and handing it to a child.
Not smart. But wisdom never had been Annie’s strong suit. “The property belongs
to Ladds,” Delaney said, as gently and calmly as possible.

Casey
thumped her chest with fist, but her tough façade began to crack. “I’m a Ladd!”

Pity
poured into Delaney’s heart. They couldn’t be sure of that. No one could,
perhaps not even Annie. But voicing that would cause nothing but
trouble—something Casey seemed already chockfull. “You need to be discussing
this with your mother, Casey.”

“I
did! How do you think I know what you’re up to?”

Fran
walked over and with a cautious glance between the two, asked, “Everything okay
over here?”

Casey
sideswiped her with a hot glance, but Delaney knew the girl wouldn’t go up
against Fran. Fran was Annie’s aunt and neither one of the women would put up
with back talk from the girl. Casey knew she was on a tight rope and Delaney
could see she was losing her balance.

“I
hate you!” Casey cried, then spun around and ran out of the restaurant.

“Oh,
Lord a’mercy on that child,” Fran said fretfully. “I’m sorry about that, Dell.”

Trailing
the girl through the front windows until she disappeared from sight, Delaney
nodded. “She’s running on a short fuse.”

Fran
shared a look of parental concern with Delaney. “That she is, but I don’t think
Annie sees it. All she sees is a discipline problem, but that girl needs some
attention.” She wiped her brow. “The motherly kind, if you know what I mean.”

“I
hear you.” Unfortunately, Casey was following the same path as her mother. And
there was nothing Delaney could do about it. Handing over Ladd Springs to
appease a girl raised by a mother who wasn’t certain about the paternity of her
child couldn’t happen. If Casey were proved to be Jeremiah’s, it would be
different.

“You
go on,” Fran said. “Don’t let her get to you.”

Delaney
looked into Fran’s face, her heart bleeding for a child she had slim influence over.
She understood the struggle, the heartache. Like Casey, Felicity had basically
grown up without a father, but that’s where the similarities ended. Delaney had
made it her number one priority to fill the boots of two parents, where Annie
hardly managed the one. Which was a shame. Casey was a bright girl. Given the
right tools, Delaney believed she could do a lot with her life. She heaved a
sigh. But Annie was more worried about Annie than Casey.

“I’ll
see you later.” Delaney waved off.

“And
take care of those wounds!” Fran hollered as Delaney pushed out the front door
and into the warm sunshine. The heat was welcome against her skin, as though it
could remove the chilly bite of Casey’s accusation. The girl might not be her
problem, but it didn’t stop her from feeling sorry for the girl. It wasn’t
her
fault she was born into a life of questionable paternity. She was an innocent
victim in the mess, much like Felicity was a victim of her father’s poor
behavior.

“Dell.”

Delaney
halted, and whirled.

“Watcha
doing?”

“None
of your business,” came the automatic reply as she pivoted to face Clem.

He
smiled thinly, flicked a cigarette butt to the sidewalk and sauntered closer. The
afternoon sun wasn’t flattering to the yellow hue of his skin or the ratty
denim of his shirt and jeans. “You don’t look like you’re workin’ much.”

“It
doesn’t matter what I look like I’m doing, it’s no business of yours.”