Page 8 of Taken, Not Spurred (Lone Star Burn 1)
Today can only go up from there.
She swung her legs to the floor, stood, and stretched. A light breeze from the window flitted across body parts she didn’t normally air out. Sarah looked down quickly, past the T-shirt that rested just below her hips, and remembered she’d removed her underwear last night.
Probably not a good idea to stand in front of the window bare-assed. She scrunched down and made her way to the luggage she hadn’t bothered to open the night before. Rummaging quickly produced clean underwear and a fresh pair of jeans.
A shower would be nice. What’s the rule regarding the number of showers you’re allowed when you break into a person’s house? I’m guessing it’s one.
Then again, some rules are meant to be broken, especially if it’s for the common good.
After a quick shower, she slid on the snug-fitting jeans, tennis shoes, and a simple pink blouse, then sought the room’s mirror. A dab of concealer, a quick sweep of her hair into a ponytail, and she felt brave enough to face the new day.
She told herself she wasn’t disappointed when she discovered the only other person in the house was Melanie, washing dishes at the large sink in the kitchen. Sarah paused before entering and said, “Good morning.”
“Tony skipped breakfast, and you’re up late. You’ll have to make yourself something if you’re hungry.” Dressed in worn cowboy boots, faded jeans, and an old gray T-shirt, Melanie looked as rough around the edges as she sounded.
If there was one thing Sarah prided herself on, it was her ability to make friends. She liked people and, in return, most people liked her. She supposed she shouldn’t care how Melanie felt about her, since she was planning to leave after breakfast and it wasn’t likely they’d ever cross paths again. Still, there was something about Melanie that drew Sarah to her side.
“Would you like help with the dishes?” Sarah asked.
The housekeeper stopped and turned the water off. She gave Sarah what could only be described as an insulting, dismissive once-over. “You don’t need to be kissing up to me. I just work here.”
But you wish things were different? I know how you feel.
“My mother would call you essential support staff.”
Melanie turned away and snapped, “There’s coffee by the stove.”
Dismissed.
Sarah poured herself a cup of black coffee and turned to rest her hip against the counter as she sipped it. Almost instantly she spit the tepid bitter liquid back into the cup. Whatever that is, it’s not coffee. If Melanie heard, she didn’t seem to care. “Thank you for making dinner last night.”
“It’s my job,” Melanie said without turning around.
“Well, it was nice,” Sarah said warmly, deciding to ride out the arctic chill from the other woman. “And it may be the only home-cooked meal I have in Texas before I drive home to Rhode Island today.”
Just the thought of that long drive was enough to seriously dampen Sarah’s mood. She might as well start calling the bed-and-breakfasts she’d stayed at on the way down and hope they had rooms open for the return.
Melanie looked at her over her shoulder. “You really leaving?”
Sarah put the coffee cup down on the counter beside her and sighed. “That’s the way it looks.”
After wiping her hands on a towel beside the sink, Melanie turned around and faced her. “I figured you’d be staying longer.”
A flush of embarrassment warmed Sarah’s neck and cheeks. Not when I’m taken in like a dog in a storm. She smiled with self-deprecating humor. Tony’s probably in town stapling my picture on telephone poles with the caption: Found—stray woman. Please call to claim.
“He doesn’t usually bring women here,” Melanie said.
Sarah let out a short rueful laugh. “I sort of brought myself. He was just too nice to throw me out.”
Melanie raised both eyebrows as she said, “Really? ‘Nice’ isn’t how most people describe Tony.” Then she frowned. “I guess it’s not a surprise he’d make an exception for someone like you.”
Oh boy. I’m not awake enough for this. Tired, Sarah rubbed a hand over her forehead and joked, “If you’re looking for a fight, you should make better coffee. I don’t function until after my second cup.”
Melanie folded her arms across her chest and studied her for a long moment before saying, “My coffee is fine. That’s yesterday’s pot.”
And round one goes to the angry housekeeper.
If this is Southern charm, give me a Northern cold shoulder any day.
“I’m leaving today, so there’s no need to try to poison me.”
“We’ll see.”
Sarah wasn’t sure if Melanie was referring to her leaving or the desire to poison her, but she wasn’t going to ask. “Okay, well, I probably won’t see you before I leave, so thanks again for dinner.”
Melanie turned away without saying another word and returned to washing the dishes.
Sarah inched her way out of the kitchen.
My novel won’t have a housekeeper.
She stepped onto the porch, and the heat of the day met her with a slap.
And it won’t be ten thousand degrees by nine in the morning.
But it will have him. Freshly shaven, dressed in a light-blue plaid shirt and jeans that fit him snugly in all the right places, Tony walked up the driveway to the bottom of the porch steps. For a split second he looked like he might smile, but then he frowned instead as he looked her over.
Well, a happier version of him, anyway.
What? Was he hoping I had my luggage with me?
“Good morning,” she said awkwardly, hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans, attempting some Southern casualness.
“Morning,” he said with a neutral nod of his head.
If I threw myself at him, would he catch me or let me face-plant in the dirt? Tough call. “I’m sorry I slept in. I must have been exhausted from the trip.”
“Melanie make you breakfast?”
“I wasn’t very hungry,” Sarah hedged. She didn’t need to stir up trouble for a housekeeper whose life, it seemed, had already been plenty harsh. “I thought I’d come out and check on Scooter, then make some calls. Do you mind if I use your phone again?”
He looked back at her wordlessly, and Sarah amused herself with fanciful thoughts. At which point can I ask him to pose for a photo? You know, for research purposes only. Not to pin next to my bed like some lovelorn teenager.
“You still planning on staying in Texas?”
His question brought back the sting of reality, and Sarah shook her head sadly. “I wish. Lucy implied this isn’t a good time to visit after all. Honestly, I’d rather turn around and go home than stay where I’m not wanted.”
Tony narrowed his eyes and said, “Long drive back.”
“No kidding.” Deciding to make the best of it, Sarah shrugged and said, “It won’t be that bad if I can get rooms in the places I stayed at on the way down. At least it won’t be a straight drive home.”
“You must be disappointed.”
“That’s an understatement.”
He lifted and settled his hat on his head, pondering something as he did. “Your horse could use a rest before traveling again.”
Sarah shook her head. Did I hear that right? Her pulse sped up. “What are you suggesting?”
“No reason why you can’t stay another night while you figure it out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just don’t do anything that would get a person asked to leave.”
I have no idea what that means, but not heading home right away is tempting. Okay, quick review of pros and cons. Con: I don’t know this man, and he might expect me to pay for room and board with sexual favors. Sarah inhaled a shaky breath, closed her eyes, and admitted to herself: That particular circumstance could also qualify
as a pro. She opened her eyes again and found Tony glaring at her. Much more likely con: I make a complete idiot out of myself over a man who is simply inviting me to stay here because he feels bad for me. On the other hand, one pro that cannot be denied is that I won’t have to end this adventure before it has a chance to even begin. I won’t have to go home and explain to my parents and my brother that they were right and that the trip was a total waste of time. I could stay right here and at least outline the story that is coming to life in my head.
Con: Melanie.
