Though she couldn’t blame them, she wasn’t sure what to think of Cord Maxwell. As he’d pointed out, they’d known each other as children, but she also knew a lot could happen to a person in the years between childhood and adulthood.
Despite that, she’d kept distant track of him, the way most everyone did in a small town. She knew he’d inherited Sam Ater’s business when Sam died and had heard Cord had a good reputation as a steady, honest man. She’d planned to hire him, after all. Until she’d realized he not only knew she’d been arrested for murder, but that Fowler had beat her to him.
Did that mean she could trust him? As she examined a beautiful, amber-colored jar of local honey, she considered. Cord had told her the truth up front—that he was working for Fowler—despite the possibility that doing so might make her run. That had to count for something, right?
She’d always been a big believer in trusting her instincts. And her gut feeling told her she could trust him.
Decision made, she turned to tell him, only to catch him regarding her with such intensity that his eyes had darkened. Unbidden, she felt an answering shiver of awareness before squashing it right back into nothing.
“We have a deal,” she told him, about to offer him a handshake but thinking better of it at the last moment.
“I’m not nuts about staying in the same place as you,” she admitted, swallowing hard as she brazened it out. “It’s too intimate.”
He stared at her for a second before a slow grin spread across his rugged face. “Intimate? Only if you make it so. You’ll have your own room and bathroom. The only common areas will be the kitchen and living room. More like a roommate scenario. There’s nothing remotely intimate about that.”
His expression and voice said one thing, but the heat in his eyes said another. Her face warmed and she knew her skin had turned the color of a ripe tomato. She considered herself a strong, self-sufficient woman. Surely she could resist this tug of sexual attraction she felt whenever she so much as looked at him.
“You’re probably right.” Squaring her shoulders, she didn’t let a single trace of regret sound in her voice. “All right. Let me pick up my gear and I’ll follow you there in my car.”
Though he nodded, he stared at her like he thought if he granted her access to her vehicle, she’d jump in and speed away. Irritated, she glared back at him. “My word’s as good as yours, you know.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Yes. I guess you might have to deal with a lot of lowlifes in your profession, but I’m not one of them.”
This clearly surprised him. One brow raised, he studied her. “I wasn’t thinking you were a lowlife. I can see you’re not. But you are a survivor. And I can tell you’ll do whatever you have to in order to continue to survive.”
Surprised and secretly pleased, she nodded. “Good read. We truly are two of a kind, because I can tell you’re the same way. And from what little you’ve told me, I think your niece is a survivor, as well. I’m sure we’ll find her soon.”
The mention of his niece caused his expression to darken. “Maybe what I need is a feminine perspective. Once we get to my place, I’ll tell you everything about her. Then maybe you’ll have some thoughts about where she might have gone.”
Though she doubted he was aware of it, he sounded so lost, so worried, that her heart went out to him. She truly hoped she actually could help him bring his niece home.
She drove back to her motel with him right behind her. For the first time since she’d left the ranch, she didn’t stress so much over the possibility of anyone following her. At least now that she’d teamed up with Cord, she’d have one other person on her side. Sometimes that alone could make a huge difference.
He waited in his truck while she went into her room and gathered up her meager belongings. She checked out, paying cash, and strode back outside. Once in her car, she gestured to Cord to lead the way, and off they went. At least he didn’t live in town proper or anywhere near the Colton Valley Ranch. Though he didn’t have a place on the outside of town like her family, his home on the southern fringes near the county line ensured she wouldn’t run into any of the Coltons or their friends.
As they turned into a long, winding drive, the sight of his house sitting beneath tall trees caused something to shift inside her. “Perfect,” she exclaimed out loud, even though no one could hear her. His home on the outside, all perfectly fit logs hewn from rugged timber, suited him perfectly. If the situation had been different—no, she wouldn’t let herself go there.
She’d keep things friendly, but professional. After all, this was a business partnership, sort of.
“What are you going to tell Fowler?” she asked the instant she got out of the car.
To give him credit, he simply shrugged. “Nothing, yet. I’m not going to lie, but he doesn’t need to know I’ve found you until closer to the court date. Since notice will be mailed to your home, we’re either going to have to rely on Fowler to tell me, or you’ll need to contact one of your siblings. Is that all right with you?”
Once again she appreciated his honesty. “Sounds good.” Keeping her tone light, she followed him into his house.
Inside, she stopped and stared. The same log walls, with matching polished pine floors, gave the interior a rustic, welcoming feel. His oversize leather furniture, along with the still life painting of wildlife, gave the room a masculine feel. The only thing lacking was a woman’s touch.
He laughed, making her realize she’d spoken out loud. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sometimes my thoughts travel from my mind to my mouth before I can think.”
“It’s okay.” At least he continued to smile, so she knew she hadn’t offended him. “I actually remember that about you.”
“Seriously?” She frowned, trying to decide if her bad habit had been around even in childhood. Guessing it probably had, she let it go.
“Yep.” He squeezed her shoulder, his expression friendly. “It’s one of the things I always liked about you. No subterfuge.”
Apparently he remembered more about her than she did him. Mostly she remembered feeling sorry for him, a young kid like her, left so often to his own devices by a father who stayed drunk more than sober.
“Thanks.” Taking one more look around, she eyed him. “Where am I staying?”
“This way.” A short, L-shaped hallway branched out from the living room. They passed one doorway, which at a quick glance appeared to be an office-combination-workout room, and stopped at the second. “My guest bedroom, now yours. Feel free to add any womanly touches you feel it needs for as long as you’re here.”
Gazing up at his smiling face, something shifted inside her. “I will,” she said, her tone brisk. “I’m going to unpack first. I don’t like things wrinkled.”
“Of course. When you’re done, meet me in the kitchen. We have a lot to discuss, not just about Renee, but about Eldridge, too.”
She nodded, heart still up in her throat, and quietly closed the door. Then stood there like a fool and listened to the sound of his footsteps as he went down the hall.
Sighing, she went over to her backpack, unzipped it and emptied it onto the bed. Hanging up her meager collection of clothes—kudos to Cord for providing hangers in the closet—she checked out the hall bathroom before heading out to the kitchen. It would do. It all would do for the short time she intended to stay here.
Cord stood as she approached, drawing her gaze to his