Lone Star Burn: Taken by Surprise (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  He’d gone over it in his mind so many times that now it played like an old movie. He was mad at her yet, at the same time, he missed her. The silky feel of her skin when she cuddled next to him. The scent of flowers in her hair. The satiny smoothness of her mouth when he kissed her. The wet heat of her cunt when he buried himself deep inside her.

  Damn it!

  He’d never felt about a woman the way he felt about her. Maybe never would again. Why hadn’t she even been willing to talk it out with him? Okay, so maybe he hadn’t been so great about expressing his feelings for her. He should have handled things a lot differently. Way differently. Not let his pride get in the way. He wouldn’t have been such an angry asshole, that was for sure. He might have tried to look at things from her point of view. Insisted they talk about it and try to find a way to work things out. He knew how important her goal was to her, but all he’d been able to think about was himself.

  He’d thought about contacting her, telling her about his job change. Lifestyle change, actually. And do what? Beg her to come see him? Ask her to give up her fancy job in that fancy restaurant? Her dreams of the future? He couldn’t do that. No, he’d just do his job here, build a new life, albeit a lonely one, and hope one of these days he could find a way to bring them back together.

  If she hadn’t found someone else by that time.

  Suck it up, Jack. No looking back.

  He was a big boy. He’d just get over it. Eventually. He hoped putting this much distance between them would help him get past that.

  Meanwhile, he was in a good place here. Dean Carlton was an incredible man to work for. A solid member of the community, liked and respected by everyone. He’d gone out of his way to make Jack feel comfortable both in his job and in Fort Mavis. Even helped him find the small house to rent. And hadn’t that taken some getting used to, for a man who’d been living in an apartment for the past ten years.

  He was even seeing someone, the woman who managed the real estate office. Lynne Robbins. She wasn’t Jessie by a long shot, but she was smart and sexy and they enjoyed each other’s company. If the sex wasn’t spectacular, he at least made sure she was always satisfied. He knew she wanted to take their arrangement to the next level, but he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe never. But he was doing his best.

  A rap on the window startled him. When he looked, he saw his boss standing there watching him. He pressed the button to lower the window.

  Carlton grinned at him. “You do know you have a desk inside, right?”

  Jack gave him an answering smile. “Yup. Just sitting here pondering the state of the universe.”

  “If you find any answers, be sure to let me know.” The sheriff rapped his knuckles on the roof. “Come on in. We need to powwow about what’s going on around here.”

  “Something new I don’t know about?” Jack followed his boss inside.

  “Not at the moment, but there will be.” As Dean walked through the bullpen, he waved at the dispatcher, passed his secretary who handed him a stack of message slips, and detoured to the break room where a fresh pot of coffee sat waiting. Jack filled his mug and followed his boss to his office.

  “So.” Dean took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Six months here and you haven’t died of boredom, right?”

  Jack studied his boss, wondering if there was a right and a wrong answer.

  “Uh, no.” He grinned, figuring humor might be best. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “You know, I took a chance when I hired you because this is a one-eighty from crime in the big city. Not everyone can make the transition from the accelerated pace of a metro area. I hoped the fact you hadn’t always been a city cop might make a difference. As you’ve found out, we’re mostly brawls and speeders and helping with the occasional search and rescue.”

  “I think,” Jack told him, “that I was more than ready for a change.” He studied Dean. “Have I given any indication that I don’t like it?”

  Dean shook his head. “On the contrary, you’re about the best damn deputy we’ve got.”

  “Then what’s this about?” Jack took another swallow of his coffee.

  “I wanted to tell you first of all that you’re doing a great job and it feels right having you here.”

  “Thanks.” Jack grinned. “For a few minutes there, I thought I was being called into the principal’s office.”

  “Not at all.” Dean took another swallow of coffee. “Just wanted to fill you in on some things we’ve got coming up around here.”

  “Oh?” Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Like what?”

  Dean picked up a flyer from his desk and handed it over. “This, for one thing.”

  Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Rodeo?”

  “Uh-huh.” Dean nodded. “Randy Warren at the Flying W holds one every year. Raises money for the youth ranch on the west side of the county.”

  “I need to get over there and take a look at it one of these days.”

  “Yes, you do,” Dean agreed. “The place has been a godsend for a number of kids who could have ended up on the wrong path. Because of that, the rodeo draws a huge crowd. Really big.”

  Jack took another hit of his rapidly cooling coffee. “I’m guessing this means we’ll all be pulling double duty to police the event?”

  “We will. And we still have to cover the rest of the county.”

  Jack frowned. “Are you telling me we have trouble when the rodeo is on?”

  Dean heaved a big sigh. “So far, nothing more than nonsense, but there’s beer for sale and other alcohol, people coming in from out of town to compete and watch. The potential is there for trouble, and I like to be prepared.”

  “You can count on me for whatever you need,” Jack told his boss.

  “I knew I could. Next week, we need to ride over to Randy’s place together and meet with him. He can fill you in on all the details.”

  “Just tell me when.”

  Dean rose from his chair and extended his hand. “I’ll say it again. I’m real glad you decided to come back to your roots.”

  “Thanks. Me, too.”

  But as he walked back to the break room to rinse his cup and leave it, he thought how much nicer it would be if Jessie was here with him.

  Chapter Two

  God, I hope this isn’t a disaster.

  Jessie had been repeating that mantra ever since she left Houston—and civilization—behind that morning. This was hardly what she’d seen as her future, but she had no choice. None. Nada. Zip. Whatever she found in Fort Mavis, she had to make it work. She was out of options.

  Maybe when she saw the restaurant and the house, she could contact a local realtor and sell them. But who knew how long that would take, and who on earth would even buy it? Besides, a relative had left it to her and relatives were scarce in her life. She wanted to know who this woman really was and why she’d left all this to her. If nothing else, it gave her a place to reorganize her life.

  She checked her watch. She’d been on the road since seven that morning, stopping only for lunch and bathroom breaks. She’d been driving for eight hours already and wondered if she’d ever get where she was going. The GPS told her she only had another six miles, but with nothing but ranchland and empty spaces stretching on either side of the two-lane highway, she wondered if it was mistaken. She hadn’t seen a lot of people but she’d seen more than her share of cattle, with a few horses here and there. She now saw what people meant about the wide-open spaces. She wondered if there was even a town on this road and if she’d get there before it got dark.

  And then, just as she tapped the GPS to make sure it was working, some houses came into view. Not too close together, but a change from what she’d been seeing. At the moment she saw a sign with Fort Mavis on it and an arrow to the right, the mechanical GPS voice told her, “Turn right and drive one mile.”

  She realized with a start that she had spent most of her life in large cities—Houston, and New York when she was away at culinary school. Th
is was her first exposure to small-town America. She had no idea what to expect and felt a catch of excitement in her throat as she got her first sight of the town. The streets were wide, with a nice mixture of historical and renovated buildings. The storefronts all had tall doors, freshly painted in white and black, and large glass windows fronting the street displaying merchandise. The town looked busy, with people shopping or, in some cases, just stopping to chat. She took a moment to absorb it all as she pulled up to the curb.

  “We’re upstairs over the custom boot shop,” Marshall Wohl had told her.

  And there it was.

  Jessie climbed out and stretched, happy at last to be out of the SUV. Then she pulled in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It might be her imagination, but the air smelled cleaner here. Maybe it would clear her head.

  I will look at this as a new opportunity. How bad can it be? At least if I own a house and a business I won’t be out of work or out on the street.

  The door between the boot shop and the store next to it matched those of the businesses up and down the street. The legend Marsten & Wohl, Attorneys at Law, was painted in gold script. Jessie turned the knob and pulled the door open to find a flight of stairs leading up from the small foyer.

  Well, Jessie girl, here goes.

  At the top of the stairs, she stepped into a wide reception area, where a pleasant-looking woman sat behind a desk. She rose at Jessie’s approach and held out her hand.

  “You must be Miss Coford. We’ve been expecting you. Nice to meet you.” She picked up the phone on her desk and pressed a button. “Mr. Wohl, the young lady is here.”

  An inner door opened, and a tall man with a lined face and gray hair, his mouth stretched in a wide smile, came out to greet her. Jessie took in his outfit—button-up shirt with a string tie, slacks, and what she was sure were very expensive boots.

  It really is a movie set. Oh lord. I didn’t think towns like this really existed.

  “Miss Coford.” He shook her hand. “Marshall Wohl. I am so pleased to meet you. Delfina spoke very highly of you.”

  “She did?” And exactly how did she know anything about me at all?

  “Yes, she did. Well, come on.” He ushered her into his office. “Let’s get the paperwork taken care of so you can see your property.

  Her property. Up until now, her property had been her furniture, her clothes, and her car. Wow!

  Marshall Wohl opened a file and spread the papers out on his desk, explaining each one to her. The will. The deeds. The tax receipts. Spreadsheets that were the profit and loss statements for the diner. Profit and loss? She hadn’t figured there’d be anything that sophisticated, although she knew you needed them to run a business. By the time he finished, her head was spinning.

  “I can tell this is quite a shock to you,” the lawyer said.

  Jessie gave a hysterical giggle. “You have no idea. Mr. Wohl—”

  “Marshall. Please.”

  “Marshall. I’m not— I don’t want—” She bit her lip. “I’d hate to take all this under false pretenses, so I have to be honest. I don’t remember any aunt or other relative named Delfina.”

  He dipped his head. “She said you might say that. She and her sister were estranged for many years.”

  Sister?

  “Sister? What sister?”

  The attorney gave her a sad smile. “She didn’t share the family history with me, only that little nugget about a sister and you being her grand-niece. When I asked her for a further explanation, she said she’d have to think about it.”

  Jessie frowned. “What on earth could be so complicated?”

  “I wish I could answer that for you. She called later and said she was going to write it down and she’d bring by a letter to give you. Unfortunately, she never did.”

  “So, I’ll never have an answer to this?”

  “Why don’t you settle in, Jessie.” His voice was kind. “Maybe I can do some genealogy research for you. Or perhaps she left the letter in the house for you to find. Meanwhile, if you’ll just sign these forms, I’ll take you to see the house and the diner and we’ll be in business.”

  Jessie’s head was spinning. The day had been very long, but now things were happening so fast. In a daze, she signed where the attorney told her to, accepted the folder he handed her with copies of everything, and followed him from the office.

  “You just leave your car here,” he said. “I’ll bring you back after our little tour.” He smiled at the woman at the front desk. “Mary, I’ll be back in an hour or so. Hold the fort.”

  “Always do.” She grinned.

  The house was on a quiet little street about ten minutes from downtown Fort Mavis. Her breath caught at first sight of the one-story bungalow, with its dormer windows and wide front porch. Pale blue with navy trim, it stood in the shade of immense oak trees like something from a postcard. Whatever Jessie was expecting, it sure wasn’t this.

  “It’s charming,” she whispered, her eyes glued to it. Certainly not the dilapidated shack she’d envisioned. Hell, it was even nicer than her apartment. Go figure.

  Marshall Wohl’s lips curved in a warm smile. “Delfina took real good care of this place. Well, come on in and let me show you around.”

  As they walked through the house, Jessie could not stop herself from running her fingers over the gleaming polished wood of the furniture, or the silky curtains at some of the windows. The high-tech kitchen amazed her the most.

  “I believe she tested new recipes here,” the attorney told her. “She purely loved cooking.”

  When they’d finished the tour, Jessie turned to him, excitement wriggling through her. “Are you sure it’s really mine?”

  He chuckled. “Not a doubt. In fact, you could even stay here. We got a housekeeper in when we knew you were on the way. You can see the house is clean, linens are clean. Utilities are still in place, although you’ll need to get them switched over to you.”

  ”Stay here? Really?”

  “It’s all yours and ready for you.” He handed her a key ring. “House and restaurant. There’re two sets on there.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep one in a safe place,” she assured him.

  Fort Mavis was a far cry from Houston. In fact, they were worlds apart. But her grandmother had taught her always to believe in signs, and maybe this was one she should pay attention to. She had no job, two months until she had to vacate her apartment, and no emotional entanglements to hold her back. At that last thought, pain stabbed her heart, but then she sucked it up. Her own fault.

  Marshall looked at his watch. “How about taking a run down to the diner? It’s almost dinnertime. We can get you something to eat, and you can see how the place works.”

  Again, excitement bubbled up in her. Delfina’s Diner. Her own business. If it was half as nice as the house, she’d figure out how to make it work. Not that she had a lot of options.

  “Sounds good,” she told him. “Let’s go.”

  Delfina’s Diner—Jessie repeated the name, letting the sound of it roll around on her tongue again—was located about halfway down Main Street. Somehow she had envisioned an old railroad car made into a restaurant—yes, she got her images of things from movies—but this was a storefront, albeit a good-size one. She noticed the lights in front were off, but some in the rear remained on.

  “The Diner usually closes at five,” Marshall told her. “Delfina does—did—a great breakfast and lunch business. But I figured you’d want to see the place, and the people were anxious to meet you, so they stayed around.”

  “I’m sure they’re worried about their jobs. I know I would be.” Jessie sure knew what it was like to get booted out with no warning. “But I’m not in a hurry to make any changes. I’ll tell them that.”

  “We’ll go around and park in back,” Marshall said.

  Jessie had no idea what to expect. She’d never even worked in a place like this, never mind been in a town like this, and her nerves suddenly decided to wake up a
nd kick the butterflies in her stomach into a jitterbug. She followed the attorney into what was obviously the storage area, supplies and other things stored neatly on rows of metal shelving. Three doors opened off a tiny hallway—the office and the restrooms. Then they were in the kitchen.

  Jessie wanted to take her time examining it, but first she had to introduce herself to the two men and two women standing there with attitudes that were part nerves and part belligerence. Well, she hadn’t expected them to welcome her with open arms. They knew as little about her as she did about them—nothing. Or maybe the attorney had told them about her, and she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  Before Marshall could say anything, she stepped forward

  “Hi. I’m Jessie Coford, and I’m real glad to meet all of you.” I hope.

  She went to each one individually, shaking hands and smiling.

  Okay, so far. They didn’t skewer me with that long fork hanging above the griddle.

  They introduced themselves, and she tried to burn their names into her memory: Bob, Diane, Alton, Rona. Two cooks. Two waitresses.

  “We hear you come from one of those fancy restaurants in Houston,” Rona said, folding her arms across her chest. She looked to be the older of the two women, short and compact, graying hair pulled back in a ponytail. “We’re not fancy here.” She paused, her chin out. “Just so you know.”

  Jessie wanted to tell her she was well aware of that, but she was here to make this work. She had no other options. Connecting with these people was mandatory, or she’d be screwed from day one.

  “Fancy isn’t everything,” she said in an even voice. “Good food is. And I’m hoping in the next few days all of you can show me the things that have made Delfina’s Diner successful.”

  “A few days?” Alton snorted. “Try a few weeks.”

  Uh-oh. Trouble on the griddle.