A Texan in Her Bed. Sara Orwig

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A Texan in Her Bed - Sara Orwig


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to make it public that you have a tie to this town?” Amy asked.

      “I told you—when I can get the most attention by doing so. Attention for the show. I’ll make my announcement when I’m taping. Until then it’s our little secret. Verity doesn’t make the news, so it’s never been picked up by the media that I have a connection here.”

      “Sheriff Milan already isn’t happy with you. He’ll really dislike learning your mother is in a branch of the Calhoun family from here.”

      Destiny smiled. “We’ll see when the time comes. Until then—bury it.”

      “I will. It’s a shame the sheriff doesn’t want you here. I think the story of the murders should be interesting. People in the crowd today seemed to like you and want you here.”

      “Verity is a small town and they keep to themselves. No one has ever made an issue about the house or publicized it. It’s just gone unnoticed. Lots of towns that have something like this capitalize on it and make it a tourist attraction or Halloween event and get attention, but not here. That makes it good for me to use in my book whether or not I find anything. I don’t really expect to solve the old murders. It’s been more than a hundred years since Lavita Wrenville’s demise.”

      “You must have made an impression on Sheriff Milan since he asked you to dinner tonight.”

      “He invited me to dinner to try to talk me out of staying here and doing a show about the Wrenville house. He doesn’t know that I’ve heard about the murders, the legend and the feud from Mimi,” she said, using the name she had called her grandmother since she had learned to talk

      “Your grandmother seems to know a lot about this town even though she never lived here.”

      “She lived in Dallas and had other Calhoun relatives here. She’s the one who interested me in the story of Lavita Wrenville and the triple murders.”

      “It will shock people when you announce you’re a Calhoun,” Amy said and Destiny smiled. “It will add a little spice to the story of the Wrenville murders. I hope it doesn’t rock the sheriff too badly.”

      Amy continued, “I heard a woman broke their engagement and Sheriff Milan hasn’t had a serious affair since. That might explain his actions with your sister. He’s about the only one who had an affair with her and didn’t propose.”

      “So he’s had a broken heart? Interesting,” Destiny said, thinking about Wyatt. “I don’t think Desirée knew that, but she’s more interested in herself than the men she dates, so she doesn’t really learn a lot about them. Wyatt keeps himself all buttoned up. He likes women—and vice versa, I’m sure. Desirée probably did what every other single female in this town has done—fallen in love with him. Have you ever seen such blue eyes?”

      “I haven’t met him yet. I think he stood across the street today when you talked to all the people.”

      “Yes, he did. Did any of you find out why our billionaire rancher is also sheriff of Verity? Mimi knew nothing about that.”

      “Actually, from what we’ve pieced together it’s because of the Wrenville house.”

      Destiny stopped looking through her purse and raised her head. “How so?” She held up her hand. “Wait. I better get ready for tonight. He’s picking me up at seven. Come tell me while I decide what to wear.” She headed into the large bedroom. A huge bouquet of red anthurium and purple gladioli stood on a table. She glanced at the card. “Enjoy your stay. Verity Chamber of Commerce.”

      Amy went on to explain what they’d learned. “All we could find out is that next year the Wrenville house reverts totally to the town and the town officials can do what they want with the house and property. The people wanted someone for sheriff they could trust when that happens and by general consensus, Wyatt Milan is a trustworthy and honest man, so they talked him into running for office.”

      “And he’s probably not happy with someone—me—coming in and poking around before he has control,” Destiny added.

      “Everyone seems to like him as sheriff.”

      “Especially the ladies, I imagine. According to Desirée, men like him, too.” Destiny looked through her clothes. “About tonight, did you let some of the press know that I’m going out with Sheriff Milan?”

      “Yes, I did.”

      “Good. I’m going to shower. And I’ll make a call to Mimi and to Desirée.”

      “If you don’t need anything else right now, I’ll go unpack some more of my things.”

      “Thanks for doing mine earlier.”

      “Sure,” Amy said over her shoulder as she left the suite.

      Destiny showered, then pulled on undergarments and a robe and got her iPad to do FaceTime with her grandmother. She felt better if she could see the frail, aging woman. Destiny settled back to talk, waiting patiently because it took time for her grandmother to deal with FaceTime.

      “Mimi, I’ve met Sheriff Milan,” she said after inquiring about her grandmother’s health and listening to her talk about her day.

      “Did he take it well to discover you’re a Calhoun? Desirée never told him she was,” Mimi said. “Then again Desirée can barely remember her heritage and really doesn’t care.”

      “I haven’t told him yet either. I’m waiting for the perfect moment. He’s taking me to dinner tonight.”

      “He’s a Milan, Destiny. You can’t trust a Milan.”

      “Mimi, I think I can trust this one. He got elected sheriff because everyone in Verity trusts him, even Calhouns. Besides, tonight is a business dinner. He wants to talk me out of putting Verity on my show.”

      “Pay no attention,” her white-haired grandmother said, smiling. “He’s a Milan and they’re hardheaded and I still say he probably won’t give you straight answers.”

      Destiny held back a laugh. Her grandmother never even lived in Verity and knew about the feud only from her parents and grandparents, yet she harbored strong feelings against the Milans. She was the one who had told Destiny of her Calhoun genealogy.

      “I’ll let you know how it went,” Destiny said, moving to other subjects until finally, she told her grandmother she needed to go.

      “Take care of yourself, Destiny. If the sheriff doesn’t want you there, maybe you should reconsider. Please be careful.”

      “I’ll be careful. I love you, Mimi,” she said. “Call me anytime,” she added, wishing she could do more to make her grandmother comfortable, knowing her arthritis bothered her and she didn’t get enough sleep at night.

      She thought about the tall, ruggedly appealing sheriff of Verity and her pulse quickened. This would be more interesting than she had anticipated. And more challenging. Most men she encountered were struck by her looks and eager to please her. Wyatt Milan was an exception, but she enjoyed a challenge.

      Desirée had told Destiny if she wanted cooperation from the sheriff, she should flirt with him and resort to her female wiles to get what she wanted. He might be happy with some flirting, but Destiny didn’t think it would change his opinion one bit. It certainly hadn’t worked with her sister. He’d been one of the few men able to resist Desirée.

      Desirée had gotten over Wyatt and he was all but forgotten within a month after she returned to California. She could forget men as easily as she fell in love with them. Now that Destiny knew Wyatt, she wondered why her sister had ever thought he would go with her back to California. She could, however, understand why Desirée had been attracted to him.

      She crossed the room to look in the closet again to decide what she would wear, finally selecting a dress that she hoped would get Wyatt’s attention.

      At five before seven she critically studied her image in the full-length mirror, trying


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