A Texan for Hire. Amanda Renee
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my moments and my bad days when I stumble over my words, but who doesn’t? I’ve had dogs my entire life and they’ve gotten me through some rough times.” Her face suddenly reddened. “Wow, I’m monopolizing the conversation.”
“No, you’re not.” The waiter set their meals on the table. Clay had intended to discuss Abby’s family, but his interest in the woman became more personal the more she spoke about her work. “You remember the woman that referred you to me, Kay Langtry? She runs the Dance of Hope Hippotherapy Center, where they use the horses’ movements to treat people with injuries and disabilities. I think you’d find it fascinating. I’m sure she’d love to give you a behind-the-scenes tour.”
Abby bumped her water glass, sloshing some of it onto the table in her excitement. “You’re kidding me!” She used her napkin to clean up the mess, and continued talking without missing a beat. “I never thought to look up animal-assisted therapy centers while I was here. I would love to see the place. Kay had told me she owned a ranch and to ask anyone in town to show me the way.”
“I’d be happy to take you.” Clay felt his stomach knot the moment he said the words. He’d crossed the line. Again. The desire to see her expression when she saw Dance of Hope and the therapy they provided almost made him want to clear his schedule tomorrow and drive her out there first thing. If he were smart, he’d give her directions and send her on her way, but logic had escaped him the moment he’d asked her to dinner.
“I’d love that. Thank you.”
Abby beamed—her face literally glowed with anticipation, and in that instant, Clay realized his attraction to her was more than the superficial desire he had originally thought. Despite her glitzy exterior, she was one of the more down-to-earth and genuine people he’d met in ages.
Clay watched Abby masterfully twirl her lo mein noodles with her chopsticks, a feat he never thought possible. The woman continued to surprise him every minute. The fact she had volunteered to be a part of a Doctors Without Borders physical therapy program in Ghana, Africa, last year warmed a place in his heart he hadn’t known still existed.
He needed to reel himself in. The woman was a client and he was not about to let her down. He forced himself to focus on her family history throughout the rest of the meal. Abby was able to answer questions about everyone except her biological father because she knew very little about the man. Despite their contact over the years, Walter hadn’t been very forthcoming. It wasn’t the end of the world for Clay. It just made his job more difficult.
He didn’t mind having Abby around for a little longer, though. While a simple open-and-shut case appealed to some private investigators, Clay loved a challenge, and Abby’s case was definitely that. But she was awakening a part of him he had resolved would never see the light of day. Abby was in town for two weeks, and that was it. There was no chance of anything more than a brief acquaintance. Once the case was closed, Abby would leave for Charleston and he’d probably never see her again. Why didn’t that thought sit well with him?
“The best part of the meal is the fortune cookies.” Abby eagerly cracked hers open. “The skills you have gathered will one day come in handy. Oh, well, that’s good to know.”
Clay laughed and split his cookie in half, removing his fortune. “There are many new opportunities that are being presented to you.” That one hit a little too close to home. He didn’t want to think about new opportunities. He’d trade everything he had for Ana Rosa and Paulo to come back to him. The immediate guilt washing him over their deaths reminded him that a relationship with Abby was out of the question. Clay didn’t deserve a second chance at happiness when Ana Rosa and Paulo didn’t have a second chance at life. He cleared his throat. “It’s getting late. We should head back. I have to be in court tomorrow morning.”
Abby checked her watch. Clay knew it was barely eight o’clock and his excuse was lame, but if things went further, he’d never forgive himself. He had a feeling it would be easy to lose himself with the pint-size blonde. He wasn’t ready for this, and he certainly wasn’t ready for Abby.
“Hit me again.” Abby tapped two fingers next to her coffee cup.
“Your eyes look like two cherries in the snow,” Bridgett said. “Didn’t you get any sleep?”
“The last time I stayed up so late was when I studied for my state board exams.”
Bridgett grinned. “Did someone keep you company last night?” She refilled Abby’s empty cup.
“He sure did.” Abby looked around to ensure no one else was listening. “He snuggled right beside me while I worked.”
“Worked?” The waitress set the coffee carafe on the counter. If the woman were a puppy her ears would have stood up.
“Yes,” Abby said, amused. “I’m a physical therapist, and I was researching animal-assisted therapy centers with my dog curled up next to me all night.” Unfortunately, there weren’t any facilities nearby, and outside of what she had read online about Dance of Hope, nothing compared to the program she would like to create in Charleston.
“Oh, and here I thought it was something exciting.” Bridgett frowned. “Not that what you do isn’t exciting. I’m sure it is. Before I stick my foot farther down my throat, can I get you something to eat?”
“No, thank you. At the rate I’m going, I won’t fit into my clothes soon.” Between Mazie’s lavish meals and the times she’d eaten out over the past few days, she knew she’d already gained a few pounds. “And don’t look so disappointed. You didn’t honestly think I’d jump into bed with him, did you? We just met.”
Bridgett raised a brow. “Him? Who him?”
“Clay him, that’s who. We went to dinner the other night.” Abby hoped her disappointment in not hearing from the man for the past forty hours didn’t show. She certainly wasn’t counting. Okay, she was. And Abby couldn’t remember counting the hours on anything, except maybe when she was waiting for word to come down from the hospital board about her latest proposal.
Bridgett propped her elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Clay Tanner...one of Hill Country’s finest. I don’t mean to pry, but I’m going to anyway. Why are you in Ramblewood? It must be something good if you hired a private investigator.”
“It’s no secret.” Abby sipped her coffee. “According to my late biological father, I have a sister no one else apparently knows about. Since he was stationed at Randolph Air Force Base and I was born here, I figured I would try Texas first.”
“I love mysteries,” Bridgett said. “Any idea of her age?”
“No. I want to say younger than me, since he and my mom married straight out of high school, but who knows? Maybe he had an affair when he was overseas. I needed some place to start and Ramblewood was my jumping-off point.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” Sympathy clouded Bridgett’s eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do if I were in your shoes.”
Abby hoped that, whoever her sister turned out to be, she had as full and content a life as Abby did. Unless you counted the recent upset at work, age thirty creeping up in a few years, the lack of a boyfriend and a biological clock that was ticking louder with each of her friends’ baby showers.
Okay. If she admitted the truth to herself, she wasn’t as content as she wanted to be. But who was? Didn’t people perpetually want more out of life? New cars, bigger houses, children. The grass was always greener.
“Mazie said Clay hadn’t dated anyone since he moved back to town. That seems a little odd. What’s his story?” Abby asked.
“That’s the million dollar question, hon.” Bridgett totaled up a customer’s bill and tore the ticket from her pad. “The man who left for the ATF was not the same man who came home. All