Temporarily Texan. Victoria Chancellor

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Temporarily Texan - Victoria Chancellor


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see.”

      By the time she reached the back door of the house, he was holding it open for her.

      “I think it’s time for me to leave.”

      “Come on inside and we’ll talk about it.”

      She stepped into the kitchen. “It’s obvious we don’t get along. Besides, it’s going to be dark soon. I need to go into town and find a place to stay tonight.”

      “Um, it’s not that easy.”

      “What do you mean?” Was he forbidding her from leaving? Was he threatening her? She knew he didn’t like her, but really…

      “There’s not much in Brody’s Crossing.”

      “You mean there are no hotels, no bed-and-breakfasts?”

      “Not a one. There used to be a motel on the road toward Jacksboro, but it closed a long time ago. Of course, there are a few motels in Graham, if you want to drive over there. It’s at least fifteen miles.”

      “Well, that’s…unfortunate.” She sighed and resisted the urge to slump. She’d come so far today she couldn’t face driving to the next town. “Are you absolutely sure?”

      “To the best of my knowledge, there’s not even a room to rent in Brody’s Crossing.”

      “Maybe there’s something you don’t know about.”

      He shrugged. “You can stay here,” Troy said with a definite lack of enthusiasm.

      “Really, I don’t think you mean that, and besides, it’s not a good idea.”

      “Why?”

      “Because it’s obvious you don’t want me here. I’m not your ranching expert and I’m not a friend. You don’t approve of anything I do, of who I am, so I think it would be best if we parted ways.”

      “I was just joking about the tofu.”

      “And my vegetarian lifestyle? And my clothes? And my friends with the frivolous little hobbies?”

      “Okay, maybe I was a little hard on you, which I shouldn’t be. I…I kind of know what it’s like to be treated disrespectfully.” He shrugged again. “Let’s just say that I was joking.”

      “You were not, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult my intelligence as well as every other part of me.”

      “I didn’t do it intentionally.”

      “If I may paraphrase an old western movie, this house ain’t big enough for the both of us.”

      He laughed. “That’s pretty good.”

      “Thank you. Now, I’d better collect my tote bag and cooler and get on the road. Again.”

      “That was a Willie Nelson song.”

      “What was?” she asked as she walked down the hall to the depressing guest bedroom.

      “‘On the Road Again.’ Do you know it?”

      “No, not really. We don’t listen to much Willie Nelson on our artsy little vegetarian farms.”

      She grabbed the heavy tote bag from the brown bedspread, and when she turned, Troy Crawford was blocking the door, his forearms resting on the door lintel.

      “I’m sorry I was rude to you. Sometimes I joke around when I’m really pis—um, I mean upset. I wasn’t lashing out at you as much as at the situation.”

      “I’m just as upset about this mess, but I’m not attacking your choices.”

      He sighed and looked down at the floor. “Well, you did say you didn’t mind if the ranch failed, but that’s no excuse, I guess. I’m really sorry. Will you accept my apology?”

      “Gladly. If you’ll allow me to walk out that door.”

      “You’re free to go, but I’m telling you, there’s no place to go. Look, if it would make you feel better, you can have the house to yourself. I’ll stay in the barn.”

      She sighed. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to put you out. There must be somewhere to stay. Perhaps I could use your phone to call?”

      “You’re free to use the phone as much as you want.”

      She carried her bag to the door and looked up into Troy Crawford’s face. “Thank you.”

      He lowered his arms, stepped back and reached for the jute handle. “You’re welcome.”

      Instead of arguing about who would carry the bag, she handed it over and followed him to the study.

      “Just answer one question for me,” he said, pausing at the door and turning back to look at her.

      “Okay.”

      “Why don’t you have a cell phone?”

      She sighed. “I had one until two days ago.”

      “What happened?”

      “The goat ate it.”

      “The goat?”

      “Billy. He eats everything,” she said with a sigh. “Once he ate my purse while I was talking to a friend, and I didn’t even notice until the strap fell off my shoulder.”

      Troy laughed, but she didn’t think it was funny that her cell phone was now in a compost heap in New Hampshire.

      “I didn’t have time to replace it before I left for Texas.” Much less the money, since it wasn’t insured. “Now, can I make those calls before it gets any later?”

      FIFTEEN MINUTES AND SEVERAL phone calls later, Raven was finally convinced that there weren’t any motels, hotels or bed-and-breakfasts in or around Brody’s Crossing. She probably should have believed Troy Crawford, but it had seemed so unlikely that there was no place within a reasonable distance where she could rent a room. That was unheard of in New England, but she remembered all the wide-open spaces along the highways as she’d driven through Oklahoma and Texas, so she supposed it made sense in the West.

      She sat alone in the Crawford home office and wondered what she was going to do now. Accept his hospitality, grudging though it might be, or…what? Money was somewhat tight. She could sleep in her car, but where, and for how long? Besides, the weather was so hot!

      And really, where was the need, when Troy Crawford had offered her his guest room? He’d even volunteered to sleep in the barn, for goodness’ sake! The hot, dusty barn. She’d taken a peek inside the small bedroom out there, and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It was even more depressing than this bare-bones, no-style, outdated house.

      “Did you find a place to stay?” he asked, startling her as he leaned against the door frame. The man was so silent. He didn’t hum or whistle or stomp around.

      “No, as I’m sure you knew. As you’d warned me.”

      “So are you going to stay here? I’ve got to tell you, it’s a long drive to anywhere, especially at night.”

      She sighed. “I know it is. Besides, maybe Mrs. Philpot or Mr. Sam will call or e-mail with some answers.”

      “Perhaps, but I wouldn’t bet on it until Monday.”

      “I know.”

      “Well, then, I’ll get my things together. I’ll go out to the barn to sleep, but I have some work to do first.”

      She might regret this in the morning, but she couldn’t put him out of his own home. She faced the other wall and absently folded the length of her scarf. “No, you don’t have to stay in the barn. I mean, this is your house. If you wanted to get in, you could. I’m sure there are keys. I feel safe with you in the daylight, so I’m certain I’ll feel equally safe at night.”

      “You’re


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