“I HAVE SKUNKS in my pantry,” Emma French said.
The man who opened his front door to her wore the green uniform of a Tennessee Wildlife officer. At least according to the emblem on his mailbox down by the road. Skunks were wildlife, so he should be able to deal with the three in her pantry. She had no intention of touching them. He, on the other hand, looked as though he wrestled moose on weekends—not that there were moose in Tennessee. Skunks should be only a small distraction.
She had obviously interrupted him in the middle of his dinner. He still held a napkin. But this was an emergency, drat it. She expected him to grab a cage or gloves or a net and follow her out into the downpour at once. Instead, he lifted one eyebrow and said, “Interesting. And you are?”
“I’m Emma French, the one who inherited Martha’s house across the street. I just moved in this afternoon and found them.”
He stuck out a hand. “I’m Seth Logan. Moved in here after Miss Martha had to go into assisted living, so I never knew her, but I’ve heard good things about her. Since the last renters left six months ago, everyone in the neighborhood figured the property was up for sale.”
“My rental agent hasn’t located any new renters for me way out here. Can you come get the skunks? Isn’t that your job?”
“Not precisely, no. How big are the skunks? How old?”
“I have no idea how old they are.” She held her thumb and middle fingers apart. “They’re about this size, I guess. Little bitty.”
“Excellent. At that age, they can’t ‘skunk’ you. Their scent glands don’t function.”
“Great. Then you’ll be safe when you pick them up.”
He didn’t move or even ask her in out of the rain. Good grief! The last thing she needed was a useless muscle-bound stud in a snappy uniform living across the road. Judging by that lifted eyebrow and the quirk at the corner of his mouth, she’d bet he had to beat women off with a stick. Assuming he wanted to.
The man was laughing at her! “Sir, I am formally requesting your assistance in getting the wildlife—” she pointed to the insignia on his khaki shirt “—out of my house and back into the wild. Thank you in advance for your assistance.”
Then he really did laugh. Well, more of a snort, but he obviously considered her amusing. She was not amusing. She was a serious executive—okay, a currently unemployed executive—moving into the shambles of a house she’d inherited in the middle of nowhere. She’d expected grime and peeling