The Texan's Tennessee Romance (5 page)

She sat on a deep-cushioned, comfortable, green micro-suede sofa facing a corner rock fireplace over which hung a flat-screen TV connected to a satellite dish on the roof. A DVD player, a selection of popular DVDs and a gaming system were discreetly hidden in a cabinet beside the fireplace. A recliner and a rocker were placed on either side of the couch, convenient for conversation, television or fire watching.

A wall of big windows and a sliding glass door that opened onto the deck were just beside the fireplace, providing scenic views of the surrounding mountaintops that could compete with any electronic media for entertainment value. From those windows, Natalie had watched birds, squirrels and deer emerging from the woods backed up to the small lawn area.

She tried to concentrate on her computer screen, but she had grimly decided that she was even worse at computer investigations than Casey was at maintenance work. She’d used every search engine she knew, but she’d found nothing about anyone in the firm that could be perceived as evidence that she’d been set up by one of them to take a professional fall.

So Cathy Linski had bought a new car. That was far from incontrovertible evidence of anything except possibly questionable financial judgment.

As for her P.I.—she was beginning to have some doubts about the guy. She had tried twice to reach him that morning, and had gotten nothing but his voice mail. She should have listened to her instincts when she’d first met him. A burly, former police officer in his late thirties, he’d seemed a little sleazy, a bit of a braggart and more than a little annoying. But she’d convinced herself that most private investigators were probably like that, and that she didn’t have to like him personally to work with him. But had her intuition been trying to tell her that he wasn’t going to be a reliable resource?

She set the computer aside in frustration, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do if neither her own clumsy research nor her P.I.’s efforts turned up the evidence she needed to clear her name. Try to believe that some other firm would take a chance and hire her on the basis of her word alone that she had not betrayed the attorney-client privilege for monetary gain? Open her own storefront practice and pray the scandal wasn’t uncovered to humiliate her? Give up and find another career despite the long years of training she had put in to establish this one?

A tap on the back door broke into her unhappy musings. Sighing, she walked into the kitchen, hoping the first aid kit had the supplies to handle whatever Casey’s latest crisis was.

Automatically running a hand through her hair, she opened the door. “Good morning.”

Looking as good as ever, maybe even a little better since he wore a dark green, long-sleeve T-shirt that really brought out the emerald in his multicolored eyes, Casey smiled. “Morning. Hope I’m not bothering you.”

She shook her head, thinking he couldn’t know how relieved she was to be sidetracked from what she’d been doing. “You aren’t.”

“Do you have an old bowl or pot or something I can put some food in? There’s a stray dog out here that looks pretty hungry.”

Despite not being a “dog person,” Natalie didn’t like the thought of any creature suffering. “Hold on. I’ll find something.”

He was looking over his shoulder, presumably at the stray. “Okay, thanks. If you have any scraps or leftovers—”

“I’ll look.”

It took her only a couple of minutes to unearth an empty plastic margarine tub from one of the cabinets and fill it with water. She pulled a plate of leftover meat loaf from the fridge, nuked it just long enough to soften it, and carried both food and water to Casey. “Here. Give him this.”

Casey studied the meat loaf warily. “Are there onions in this? Because onions are really bad for dogs.”

“They’re bad for me, too,” she replied with a shake of her head. “They give me headaches. No onion in the meat loaf. Just meat, egg, ketchup, a little bell pepper and a little mustard.”

“Sounds safe enough in the absence of real dog food. Better than starving, anyway.”

Mildly curious, and needing a distraction from her frustration, she followed him outside to get a look at the stray he’d found. She didn’t bother to grab a jacket. The air was cool, but the thin red sweater she wore with her jeans was sufficient. If she happened to notice that Casey looked darned good in his own jeans from behind, she didn’t let herself dwell on the view. She forced herself to search for the dog instead.

It was a medium-sized mutt, probably a mottled brown and white after a bath, but mostly brown now. Its hair was matted, and Natalie could almost count its ribs. The dog didn’t run when Casey walked slowly toward it, but neither did it allow him to get too close, slinking backward as Casey neared. Casey stopped and set the food and water on the ground, then backed away without making any sudden moves.

“There you go, buddy. It’s all yours,” he said in a low, almost crooning voice. “We’re going to stay way back here and let you have all you want.”

The dog’s nose twitched as the aroma of the hastily warmed meat loaf reached it. Head lowered, wary eyes still fixed on the watching humans, it took a couple of tentative steps forward and sniffed the food. Moments later the plate was empty and the dog was noisily lapping up water to wash down its meal.

Watching sympathetically, Natalie asked, “Should we call animal control?”

She knew very well that the dog didn’t understand her, but the minute she’d finished speaking, it turned and ran into the woods, disappearing into the trees and undergrowth.

Casey looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t see any point now. By the time someone got here, that dog could be anywhere. At least he’s had a good meal today.”

“Was it a male?”

He shrugged again. “I have no idea.”

“Oh.” Hoping the dog would find another good meal soon, she gathered the empty plate and the half-empty bowl of water to take back inside. She turned to look at the ladder propped against the cabin and an open toolbox on the ground beside it. “How’s the work going today?”

Casey pushed a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’ve been cleaning the gutters, mostly. Hammered out a couple of dents to let the water flow better. I noticed some shingles that need to be replaced, but I’ll have to have help with that, since I’ve never done roofing. And I’ve still got to caulk and do some winterizing before the really cold weather sets in. Clean and waterproof the deck. And then Kyle and I are going to install the hot tub.”

“Hot tub?”

His lips twitched. “Yeah. It’s going onto the far end of the deck. Kyle said it seems like everyone wants a hot tub with their cabins these days. A lot of the cabins around here have pool tables and arcade-style video game rooms, but they want to keep this one a little more rustic.”

“Oh, I agree,” she said, glancing at the tidy little cabin that had offered her such welcome seclusion these past few days. She supposed a hot tub on the deck wouldn’t be so bad, for vacationers who liked to soak away tension while they relaxed, but the cabin really needed nothing more. There were hiking trails nearby, a rushing stream that passed right alongside the edge of the property, bird baths and feeders, a grill and picnic table, swings and rockers and chairs on the front porch and back deck for sitting and admiring the spectacular view. Who would want to play video games when they had all of nature for a playground?

Not that she’d taken full advantage of those pleasures while she’d been here. She’d been so obsessed with her problems. She would make a point to sit out on the deck that very day, she promised herself, even if it was with her computer.

“I guess I’d better get back to work,” Casey said, turning toward the house. “I’m going to start on the deck after I finish cleaning that last gutter. You weren’t planning to use the deck today, were you?”

Mentally revising the plans she had just made, she shook her head. “Not if you need to work on it.”

“Winter’s going to be here before we know it and the maintenance work is sort of behind because of the regular handyman’s accident. I told Kyle I’d get as much done as I can today while he works on one of the other rentals.”

“Of course. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Thanks for helping with the dog.”

She nodded and moved toward the house. An odd feeling hit her as she walked out of the sunny, pleasantly cool daylight and into the almost hauntingly empty cabin. It wasn’t exactly dark inside, since the cabin was well-lit and had plenty of windows to let in the sunlight and the mountain views. But it somehow felt dim and lonely to her as her eyes were drawn to the computer sitting on the coffee table, animated fish swimming lifelessly across the screen.

Setting the bowl and plate in the sink, she crossed her arms over her chest, chilled now in a way she hadn’t been while out in the sun with Casey.

“I made a fresh pot of coffee,” she said when he turned to look at her. “Would you like a cup?”

He had just opened a bottle of water, but he could drink that later. “Sure,” he said, pleased that she’d made the gesture. “That sounds good, thanks.”

She handed him the mug, then glanced around the deck, from which he’d already removed the Adirondack chairs and the matching end table that sat between them. He still had to move a wrought-iron umbrella table and the four iron spring chairs surrounding it, and a couple of large planters that sat on wrought iron bases to protect the decking. A wooden swing hung on chains at the far end of the deck. That, too, would need a coat of waterproofing sealant.

“Where are you putting the furniture?”

Carefully swallowing a sip of the hot coffee, he lowered the mug to answer. “At the end of the cabin, on the concrete slab with the grill and the picnic table.”

“Could you use some help moving the rest of it? I’d like to do something useful since Aunt Jewel and Uncle Mack have been so generous letting me stay here.”

He made an effort to hide his surprise. “I won’t turn down an offer to help. But you’re sure there isn’t something you’d rather be doing? It’s such a beautiful day.”

She glanced around as if she’d barely noticed. “I have nothing else to do,” she said.

Just the hint of dejection in her voice made his heart soften. What was it about Natalie Lofton that reminded him a little bit of the stray dog they had just fed? Isolated, wary, maybe mistreated at some point, but still with an undeniable air of quiet dignity?

Suspecting that she wouldn’t appreciate that analogy at all—would more likely hate it, in fact—he kept it to himself. Setting the coffee mug on the wide deck railing, he nodded toward the wrought iron dining set. “We can start moving the chairs.”

She turned in that direction. Casey reached out to detain her. “Do you have a pair of work gloves?” he asked, glancing down at her soft-looking hands. “You don’t want to risk blisters.”

“I have driving gloves. And some knit gloves designed for warmth.”

“Either would be better than nothing.”

“Then I’ll be right back. Is there anything else we need from inside?”

“No.” He took hold of the first chair. “I’ll take this one down.”

He was returning from that short trip when he met up with Natalie again. Her hands protected by leather driving gloves, she lugged one of the chairs, hindered more by its awkward shape than by weight. He almost offered to help her, but something about the way she looked at him warned him that she’d rather do it herself.

He both understood and respected pride. Nodding, he moved past her to get the third chair. They would carry the table together, he decided. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten it down the steps by himself. But because of his own slightly overdeveloped ego, he probably wouldn’t have asked for her help had she not offered.

They worked together for the next two hours, removing the remainder of the furnishings and then cleaning the deck with brooms and a small power washer Casey had brought with him. They didn’t talk much, but the quiet was companionable. The sounds of singing birds and rushing water and dried leaves blowing across the ground provided a sound track for their efforts.

Though he didn’t allow himself to stare openly at her, Casey observed Natalie surreptitiously as she worked. He was pleased to see a tint of color in her cheeks, a new sparkle of accomplishment in her eyes. She liked having a purpose, he decided, something that made her feel useful. And the crisp, fresh air wasn’t hurting either, since she’d been spending entirely too much time holed up in the cabin, from what he had observed.

“That looks good,” he announced a short while later as he and Natalie stood back to admire their work. “Tomorrow morning I’ll apply the sealer. We can replace the furniture in twenty-four to forty-eight hours after that, according to the instructions on the can.”

“There’s a lot of maintenance involved with these cabins, isn’t there? It’s mind-boggling how much hard work is involved in being a vacation landlord.”

“Yeah. Kyle and Mack both put in long days, especially now that their full-time maintenance guy’s on the bench. And your aunt stays busy with the books and reservations.”

Still looking at the empty deck, Natalie murmured, “Tommy used to complain that his family lived in a vacation destination and never had time to actually take a holiday themselves. I didn’t understand when I was a kid, but I certainly do now.”

Casey studied her face, regretting that he saw shadows of sadness in her eyes again. “Kyle’s talked about your cousin. It sounds as if he was a great guy.”

“He was.”

Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned, thinking maybe the stray dog had come back for dinner. Instead, he saw a small herd of deer wander out of the woods, grazing on the grass of the lawn. He counted three full-grown does and another that might have been a young buck.

“Natalie,” he said softly, nodding in that direction. “Look.”

She turned her head, then smiled. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are, aren’t they?”

They watched in silence for a moment, and then something—a scent, a motion, a sound, perhaps—startled one of the does. She lifted her head, looked directly at Casey and Natalie, and then turned to melt back into the woods, followed by her companions.

“We’ve certainly seen the animals today, haven’t we?” Natalie said, looking at him again. “Think a black bear will come out of the woods next?”

He grinned. “I kind of hope not. Dogs and deer I can handle. Bears—not so much.”

She chuckled. “The ones around here usually leave you alone if you do the same with them. Tommy and I saw one on a hike once. It looked at us, we looked at it, and then we all turned and went our own ways. Fortunately, Tommy and I had been making a lot of noise, so we didn’t startle the bear when we appeared. That’s when they’re particularly dangerous, when they’re frightened or protecting their young.”

“We didn’t see many bears back in Dallas. Saw a few rattlesnakes on my uncle’s ranch. I didn’t care for them, either.”

Natalie shuddered delicately. “Neither would I. I don’t like snakes.”

“Ah. So there is something that intimidates the intrepid Natalie Lofton.”

“Intrepid?” she repeated, lifting an eyebrow.

Shrugging, he admitted, “It’s a word I tend to associate with you, for some reason. Maybe because you seem so hard to rattle. Broken pipes, blood, stray dogs—bears, apparently. You deal with it all without blinking. I’ve only heard you admit to two things that intimidate you—snakes and babies.”

She blinked and he could tell that he had taken her completely off-guard, something that apparently didn’t happen much with her. And then she gave a little smile that didn’t quite reach her somber eyes and said, “I’ll admit to being wary of both snakes and babies, though maybe not quite to the same extent. As for the rest—I’m not sure
intrepid
is the word to describe me. Trust me, I don’t handle everything as calmly as you suggest.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

He’d always considered himself fairly proficient in interpreting body language. Something about the way she crossed her arms and then huddled a bit into her sweater made him wonder what it meant. A slightly self-protective gesture, perhaps hinting at a recent blow that had been difficult for her to handle? Or was she just chilly and he was reading too much into the emotions he’d thought he glimpsed in her expression?

“The temperature seems to be dropping,” he commented, telling himself to mind his own business. “Maybe you’d better go back inside.”

She glanced again at the clean, empty deck. “I guess so, since we’re finished here. You’re done for the day, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. It’s getting too close to dark to start anything else. I guess I’ll head on back to the cabin I’m staying in. I’m going to do some work on the floors there this evening. I’m sanding and refinishing them, starting in the kitchen.”

“So you’re working on both at once?”

“Pretty much. The regular maintenance guy had already finished the outside of mine before he was in the accident. So I’ve been working inside there for a couple hours a day after leaving here.”

“I know Kyle and Uncle Mack must appreciate your help.”

He shrugged. “As you’re well aware, I’m not the most skilled handyman, but I want to contribute what I can while I’m here.”

She took a step toward the cabin, then stopped and looked back at him. He could almost see a debate going on in her head before she asked, “You said you’re working on the kitchen floor in your cabin?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the room cleaned out and everything taped off, so I’m going to start sanding tonight.”

“What about dinner?”

“I figured I’d pick up a burger and fries on the way.”

She took a quick deep breath and then said very casually, “I have a few things I can make quickly here if you’d like to eat with me before you go. If you’re going to put in more hours of work this evening, you need to eat something a little more nutritious than a burger and fries.”

Though he was surprised that she’d offered, Casey didn’t hesitate to accept. “I’d love to join you for dinner. Thanks.”

She smiled somewhat tentatively. “Okay. Great. Come on in and you can wash up while I get started.”

Leaving his toolbox at the foot of the steps, he followed close behind her as she moved toward the door.