Chapter Two

      “Now you know what I’m looking for,” Caleb finished up. Across their booth in the Double S, Tess stared down at her notebook. “The best money can buy.”

       He had grabbed his coffee and her tea and headed to the empty booth at the far front corner of the room, close to the café’s door. Not that he would need a getaway…

       Tess didn’t look too happy about sitting here with him. And she’d said next to nothing, leaving him to spend the last half hour doing enough talking to make his throat drier than New Mexico dust. Luckily, Dori kept the pot hot and full.

       He glanced down at the woven place mat under his coffee mug, then around the room at the rough wooden tables and chairs, the bare planked floors, the colorful sombreros on the wall.

       At anything that gave him the chance to think for a minute without staring at Tess.

       Why he should find it hard to look her in the eye, he didn’t know. Finding out she worked selling real estate had given him the best reason in the world for getting in touch with her once he’d come back to town. And her job made her just the person he needed to get his point across to everyone. He’d run down a list a mile long, throwing in every option he could think of for the kind of property he wanted to buy. The best, the biggest. The most expensive property.

       He looked around the café. At this hour, too late for workers to stop in for coffees to go and too early for a lunch rush, the restaurant had only a few customers. Luckily, no one he knew. He’d returned to Flagman’s Folly eager to get to work, but now that he had arrived, he’d realized he should’ve done more thinking beforehand about his great idea.

       Much as he hated to admit it, seeing Tess again had shaken him more than he would have guessed.

       But it was time to put his plan into action.

       He looked back at her. “You got all that?”

       “I believe so.” Her head down, she flipped back through the pages of the notebook that lay on the table beside her.

       He took the opportunity to check her out yet again.

       Could have knocked him over with a frayed lasso when he’d seen her come walking along Signal Street. Luckily he’d gotten hold of himself by the time she’d reached him.

       During the past ten years, Tess hadn’t changed a bit.

       Well…naturally, she’d grown up and filled out.

       Still, she had the same shoulder-length tumble of dark curls, the pale skin that gave her away every time she blushed, the sparkling dark brown eyes. She looked up at him again now, those eyes wide, and said not a word.

       He glanced down to see her hanging on to her teacup for dear life, it seemed. No wedding band. He wondered about that.

       Not that it meant anything to him.

       If only he could say the same about the way her fingers had trembled in his when he’d shaken her hand earlier…

       Letting go of the death grip on her cup, she transferred her attention to the hem of her yellow shirt. The tug she gave on it pulled the fabric taut against her.

       He forced himself to focus on taking a long swallow of his coffee.

       “I think I’ve got everything we’ll need.” Her lips curved briefly. “Any last-minute items for your wish list?”

      Yeah. A real smile. That one had looked so fake, he wouldn’t have given her a nickel for it. “Nope. That about covers it for now.”

       “Then I’ll get back to the office and start working on this. I’m sure we’ll be able to find something to suit you.” She flipped the notebook closed and dropped it into her bag.

       When she started to slide out from the booth, he reached for her arm. Warm, soft skin met his palm. Holding her hand outside the office had given him a jolt. This about mule-kicked him across the room.

       He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “What’s your hurry? Been a long time since the two of us talked.”

       “Yes.”

       Obviously, if she had her way, it would be an even longer time before they had a proper conversation.

       He settled against his seat cushions and stretched his legs out under the table, trying to find a comfortable position. “So, you wound up selling property for a living? Not a bad job. What does your husband do?”

      And why the heck had he asked that?

       Tess looked as if she wondered the same thing. “I don’t have a husband,” she said, clipping the words.

       He frowned. “Last time I saw you, you were planning on getting married.”

       “I know,” she said, her voice cold. “It didn’t work out.”

       “Yeah. Neither did we.” Again, he’d blurted the response without thinking. This time, though, he knew why. The bitter memory of their last meeting had driven him to speech.

       He might as well have waved a red flag in front of her with his words. Her face went as belligerent as a bull getting ready to charge.

       “There was no ‘we,’ Caleb. I seem to remember that maybe once there might have been. But you wanted to go off and start winding your way along the rodeo trail. So you did.”

       The acid in her tone seemed at odds with the hurt look in her eyes.

       Well, he’d had his reasons. And she’d damned well given him another. One guaranteed to keep him away. Jaw clenched, he tried shrugging away the wave of guilt pounding at him. No such luck. He reached for the fresh pot of coffee Dori had brought a few minutes back.

       The door to the Double S opened. Glad for the distraction, he looked up and watched a group of little girls roll like tumbleweeds into the place.

       On the opposite side of the booth, Tess jerked to attention. He’d swear her face grew paler yet.

       “Anything wrong?” he asked.

       She shook her head.

       She was lying. Something about that little crowd bothered her.

       “Excuse me a minute,” she said.

       The girls had crossed the café and taken over the row of stools lining the counter in the back of the room. They looked innocent enough. Clean and respectable, too. A big contrast to the kid he’d given the cash to earlier.

       The same thing people had thought about him when he’d lived here. He gripped the handle of his coffee mug, trying to get hold of his anger. At that age, neither he nor that kid had the power to control their worlds. Couldn’t folks understand that?

       He shook his head and looked again at the girls. Eight, nine years old, maybe. He’d seen plenty like them in his days on the circuit. Just a bunch of giggling kids who cared only about hanging out at the rodeo with their friends. Nothing to worry about with girls that age.

       It was the older ones you had to watch out for.

       Eyes half-closed, he