Evelyn Crowe A.

Safe Haven


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face was buried in the newspaper that he was just making polite talk. “I walked around enough to get the lay of the place. Do you want your eggs scrambled or fried?”

      “Scrambled with a little grated cheese in them would be good.” He watched her over the top of the paper, the way she moved so easily around his kitchen, finding everything she needed. This morning her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her pale skin had a little more color. But her gray eyes were dark and storm ridden.

      “I sat on the fence for a while and watched the horses in the field.”

      “Paddock.”

      She set a plate of hot biscuits on the table. “They’re beautiful. I hope you don’t mind, but I looked around inside the barn.” She’d been delighted at what she’d discovered when she’d entered that enormous brick building. The smells and sights were all so foreign and new to her. Strange objects hung from doors and hooks.

      There had been horses, too, and she’d been lulled into relaxing by the warmth of life, scents and sounds. One horse in particular had drawn her with friendly eyes and soft noises. She’d sat on a bale of hay outside the animal’s stall and talked until she’d nearly fallen asleep.

      “They’re all big babies and love the attention,” Logan said. “Feel free to go in there anytime.”

      She felt his eyes on her back as she scrambled the eggs and heated the slices of ham in another skillet. “I didn’t know you were a veterinarian. Is your clinic in town?”

      “I’ve given up my clients at the clinic. My brother handles everything now.”

      It wasn’t what he’d said, but the icy snap in his voice that indicated another closed door. He didn’t enlighten her further, and his expression made Avery change the subject. She placed his breakfast in front of him and took her seat across the table.

      After he’d taken a few bites, she spoke. “I hope you don’t expect anything fancy for your meals. I stay fairly close to the basics.”

      “Basic will do fine. I’m not picky and I’ll eat just about anything except green peas.”

      A small smile touched her mouth. “Green peas. I’ll remember that.” The ice seemed to have been broken and she ventured, “I saw the office yesterday and wondered if you wanted me to start setting it up. It looks very disorganized.”

      “That’s an understatement. And yes, please, start there. The manual on the special software I use for keeping records on the horses and cattle is in one of those boxes. You know, I consider myself a fairly intelligent man. I can understand complex chemistry formulas, but this manual...hell, it’s like reading Greek. So far I’ve managed to screw up everything I’ve entered. There’s a three-ring binder in the desk drawer with all the data. Then there’s the accounting program. I’m a little better at that, but I’ve been lax lately and there’s a box of receipts, bills and invoices to be posted. You think you can handle it?”

      Her smile was a little wider this time. “Fortunately I read Greek.” She recognized the flash of amusement in his eyes. She liked the way the skin crinkled at their corners when he smiled. “Who’s Tanner? Did you get there before he put Molly out of her misery?”

      “Tanner’s my brother.”

      “The other veterinarian?”

      “No, that’s Pierce. Tanner’s our kid brother. He has a place down the road, but he’s always hanging around here. You’ll meet him soon enough. Molly’s fine. Tanner would sooner shoot himself than that horse. She had a bad case of colic, but we got her through the worst of it. I’ll have to keep an eye on her, though, because we haven’t pinpointed what made her sick. Bad feed more than likely.”

      Logan amazed himself with his long-winded explanation. He must be more desperate for company than he’d thought, to be talking about his cases with a stranger. Hell, Becky had hated him bringing his work home, especially details of some of the more gruesome cases. He glanced at the clock, surprised by the time, and set about finishing breakfast.

      Avery’s powers of observation had worked beautifully for her. She mentally tallied how much she’d learned about Logan without asking an endless stream of questions. He was a widower. His wife and son had been killed in a car accident. He was a veterinarian who’d given up his town practice. Obviously he wasn’t retiring, but setting up business from his home. It didn’t take much to guess that his loss had changed his life and been the deciding factor in his choice, though it wasn’t entirely clear why. He had a father who cared and worried about him. Also a sister-in-law who was madly in love with him.

      Logan laid his silverware on his now clean plate and reached for his coffee. He’d permitted her game to go on long enough. “You’re not from around here—Texas, I mean. Where are you from, Avery?”

      One thing Denise had drilled into her was if she lied, keep it simple and close to the truth. “Seattle.”

      The answer startled a rusty laugh from Logan. “That’s a hell of a distance to go to find me some help. My father outdid himself this time.”

      “Actually, a friend of Denise’s has a placement agency in San Antonio, and she told her about the outrageous qualifications some rancher had. After they shared a good laugh, Denise told her she had just the person.”

      “So you were living in Houston?”

      “That’s right.” She wondered if two weeks’ residency allowed her to claim Houston as home. At any rate it served her purpose.

      Logan touched his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes. It was empty. Of course. He’d given up smoking. His mood darkened. “What or who are you running from, Avery Jensen?”

      “I beg your pardon?” It was as if her heart had suddenly jumped into her throat. She swallowed painfully.

      “You heard me. When a woman with your looks and obvious education decides to hide away on a ranch in a small Texas town, there’s something wrong. Is it an abusive husband you’re running from, or was he unfaithful?”

      “No, no. I’m not married.” She made herself meet him stare for stare.

      “A boyfriend?”

      “No. Honestly, Logan—”

      “Are you in trouble with the law?”

      “No.” She stopped herself before shifting her gaze away from his. “I’m not in any trouble with the law and no one is looking for me. What I am is broke. What I need is a job, and this one suits me just fine.”

      Logan finished his coffee. At one time—two years ago, to be exact—he’d been a good judge of character. Now he didn’t trust his own gut instincts. He didn’t think she’d lied, but there were secrets shifting around in those gray eyes, and that too-bland expression gave him pause.

      What the hell did it matter? He certainly was in no position to judge people. His needs were basic and few—nourishment to keep his body functioning, a clean house and clothes. He needed someone to take care of the everyday chores he no longer had the energy for. Most of all he needed to be left alone. Logan had a feeling Avery Jensen was looking for the same things.

      “We’d best get some things straight here and now,” he said. “Haven is not considered a small town in terms of its population, but it has a small-town mentality. There’s been a big infusion of wealthy people from San Antonio who, for whatever reason—status maybe—decided they wanted a ranch and picked Haven as the location. The only problem is they’ve brought the city with them, and the pecking order here now has two levels—the rich country-club set and the local social hierarchy.

      “Both sides have their busybodies. They’re going to make a lot out of a beautiful, young, single woman living out here with a widower. If you plan to stay or make friends, you’ll have to deal with them on your own. Don’t expect me to help, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me out of your conversations.” He paused. “There are people in town who