Lawman. Diana Palmer. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Diana Palmer
Издательство: HarperCollins
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to the hospital. I’ll have one of the boys run it over first thing tomorrow and leave the keys with Miss Turner.” The SUV was his second vehicle, which he used primarily around the ranch. His foreman and the rest of his cowboys had their own transportation. He didn’t tell Grace, but he was going to have one of his mechanics overhaul her car as well. He didn’t like having her as a responsibility longer than he had to.

      He didn’t mind helping out this neighbor, as long as it didn’t require any personal involvement with her beyond the minimum. Still, he did feel sorry for her. She seemed to be a misfit in this small town. Obviously she wasn’t overly interested in him. She was as far over in her seat as she could get, and she did nothing to try and attract his attention. He hadn’t missed the way she flinched when Coltrain had started to lay a compassionate hand on her shoulder. It raised a red flag in his mind, but he was too worn-out from the travel and the interrupted sleep to pursue it. The sooner he had her settled, the sooner he could go back to bed.

      They pulled up at the front door of the ranch house and Miss Turner came out with a small satchel and her purse. She got into the back seat.

      “I locked up,” she told him. “You’ll have your house key with you, of course.”

      “Of course,” he drawled.

      “Grace, are you all right? How’s your grandmother?”

      “She’s not well, Miss Turner,” Grace replied drowsily. “Dr. Coltrain thinks it’s a heart attack. He won’t give me a lot of hope.”

      “Never you mind. He’s the best we have. He’ll do whatever he can, you know that.”

      “Yes, I do. Thank you for coming home with me,” she added. “It’s a big house.”

      “It is,” Miss Turner agreed.

      He pulled up at the front door of the rickety old white Victorian house, making a face at the lack of fresh paint. Presumably there wasn’t any spare cash for upkeep. Pity. It was a pretty house.

      “Thank you for all you’ve done,” Grace said formally, “and for letting Miss Turner stay with me.”

      She looked as if it were like pulling teeth to say that. She had a fiercely independent stubborn streak that he was just meeting. His estimation of her changed a little.

      “Lock the doors,” Garon cautioned Miss Turner after she’d exited the car and was helping Grace toward the front porch.

      “We will. I’ll get up early and come over to fix breakfast, as soon as the Expedition gets here.”

      “Okay. Good night.”

      He drove off, already going over the next day’s routine in his mind. He didn’t give Grace a second thought.

      

      BUT THE NEXT MORNING, awake and rested, he felt badly about the way he’d treated Grace the night before. He remembered how he’d felt when his mother had died; but especially, when the woman he loved had died. He remembered how sad and depressed those events had made him. At the time, he’d had no one to help him get through it. His family was back in Texas, and he’d been living in Georgia, working out of Atlanta, when it happened. He should have remembered how alone he’d felt. He’d been less than sympathetic with Grace.

      So he got up earlier than usual, made biscuits, fried bacon and scrambled eggs. He phoned the Collier house and only then recalled that the phone was out of order. He climbed into the car, dressed in city clothes and drove over to get Grace and Miss Turner.

      They were dressed, just coming down the steps. Grace was wearing jeans and the floppy sweatshirt again, with her hair in a bun. They both looked surprised to see him.

      “I made breakfast,” he said without preamble. “Let’s go.”

      “But you didn’t have to do that,” Grace protested.

      He started to take her arm, to herd her out the door, but she stepped back in an instant, her eyes wide, her cheeks rosy.

      He glowered at her. “It’s only breakfast. I’m not proposing,” he added sarcastically.

      Her eyebrows went up. “Well, thank God for that,” she replied carelessly. “I’ll consider it a lucky escape.” She hesitated when he gave her a blank stare. “Or shouldn’t I have said that until after breakfast?”

      He didn’t smile, but his eyes did. He made a rough sound in his throat, avoided Miss Turner’s amused gaze and led the way out to the car.

      Grace ate with apparent enjoyment, but she was wary of her big, taciturn neighbor. She’d never met anyone quite like him. If he had a sense of humor, it must be very deeply hidden.

      “It was very nice,” she said when she finished the last strip of bacon. “Do you mind if I use your phone to call the hospital?”

      “Help yourself,” he said. “There’s an extension in the hall.”

      She got up, wiping her mouth gently, and went to find the phone.

      “How’s she doing?” Garon asked Miss Turner.

      “She’s going to take it badly,” she replied. “Mrs. Collier is a nightmare of a mother substitute, but Grace has lived with her so long that I think she just overlooks the bad attitude.”

      “I noticed that the old lady seems to dislike her.”

      Miss Turner grimaced. “It’s even worse than it seems. Mrs. Collier failed Grace at a time when she needed her most. I think it’s guilt that makes the old woman treat her so hatefully.”

      “What happened?” he asked curiously.

      “It’s not my business to talk about Grace’s business,” came the terse reply.

      He sighed and finished his coffee. Apparently secrets were part of small town life.

      Grace came back subdued. “She’s in ICU,” she said as she sat back down at the table. “He didn’t tell me that last night.”

      “I’m sure he had his reasons. Are you going to work?”

      “I have to,” Grace said baldly. “Granny’s social security check barely pays for the utilities. I have to get in as many hours as I can.”

      “No ambition to go to college or learn a profession?” Garon asked.

      Grace gave him a bald stare. “And where would I get the money to do that, even if I didn’t have to take care of Granny? She’s been an invalid since I graduated from high school, and I’m all she has.” She scowled. “You know, for a man who wants everybody else to mind their own business, you sure spend a lot of time prying into other people’s.”

      His eyebrows arched. “See here, I’m loaning you my housekeeper…”

      “Miss Turner doesn’t have to be loaned,” Grace replied. “She has a heart.”

      He glowered. “So do I.”

      “You must keep it put up in a safe place, so that it doesn’t get used much,” she returned. She got up. “Thanks for breakfast. You’re not a very pleasant person, but you are a good cook.”

      “Thank you the hell for small favors,” he gritted.

      “You’re nasty, I’m nasty,” she returned. “If you ever develop a pleasant personality, I’ll even smile at you.”

      Miss Turner was trying very hard not to smile. She did like this job, despite the odd behavior of her boss.

      “I won’t hold my breath,” Garon assured her. “I have to go. I’m up to my neck in meetings today. The keys to the Expedition are on the key rack by the front door,” he told Miss Turner. “Use it as much as you need to.” He hesitated. “Try not to run over her with it unless you absolutely have to,” he added, nodding toward Grace. “She’d probably puncture a tire with her attitude.”