to the city.
The bus driver shut and locked the storage door. “Have a nice stay, ma’am.”
She mumbled a quick thank-you. A second later, the motor coach shifted gear, belched a cloud of black exhaust and drove off leaving…
Her.
And him.
And the sweltering June heat.
He wore mirrored shades, but a sixth sense told her he looked her straight in the eye.
In one smooth motion, he removed the glasses. From fifteen feet away his hot brown glare threatened to melt her. If he were any closer, she’d burst into flames.
“Heather.”
Oh, man. He was more than ticked. His lips hadn’t moved when he spoke.
She lifted her chin. “Royce.”
“I thought I told you to stay put.”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and wiggled in indignation. “You should realize by now I don’t listen too well.”
He rubbed a hand across his brow, and Heather almost felt sorry for him.
“You’re bound and determined to take the store on?”
“Yes.”
“Until you get a better offer?”
Let him think that. If Royce were to find out why she was really in Nowhere, he’d hit the ground running. “Yes.”
He studied her as if he wanted more than her words as reassurance. “Where are you staying?” He asked the question warily, as if he feared she intended to move into his ranch house.
“I’d planned to live in the store.” Rent-free, no commute. Life couldn’t get any better. And a little distance between her and Royce was a good thing—just until he got used to her being around again.
“You can’t stay at the store. The place is a dump. Besides, where would you sleep?”
“There’s a large closet off the storeroom. I can fit a cot in there.”
“I saw the commode in the back, but what about bathing?”
Next thing, he’d be asking what she planned to do about toilet paper! “The storeroom has a showerhead.” She just hoped the water ran clear and didn’t come out all rusty and smelling like dead fish.
He fumed in silence, as if contemplating how to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back to College Station.
“Fine. We’ll take your things over to the store, then head out to the ranch. There’s an old bed in the attic you can have, and the mini fridge in the barn.”
No more arguing? Amazing. “Thanks. And if it’s all right with you, I’d like to get my car so I have a way to get around.”
“Your father’s truck wasn’t destroyed in the fire. It’s parked behind the store.”
She helped Royce load her luggage and the boxes into the pickup bed, then hopped in on the passenger side. “I’ll use the truck for business and the Mustang for pleasure.” She flashed a smile across the seat.
Frowning, he turned the key and the motor roared to life. “You’re sure about this?”
She crossed her fingers. “Absolutely.”
“I hope to hell you know what you’re doing, Heather.”
So do I, Royce. So do I.
Chapter Four
Royce gripped the steering wheel until pains shot up his forearm. Five minutes on the road with Heather and he felt like kicking a fence post barefoot.
Without even trying, the woman lit his fuse. As if he’d stepped on a land mine, she scattered his emotions and shredded his common sense into useless fragments of illogic—and she’d accomplished all that without uttering a single word since getting in the truck!
While he’d waited for the bus to arrive, he’d had a long talk with himself. He’d decided that the only way to survive Heather this summer was to avoid her.
One way or another he had to resist the natural urge to run to her aid every time she got herself in a pickle. He figured it was only a matter of time before she hopped a bus back to College Station, or accepted another offer for the property.
While Heather was playing store, he had a whole list of things to keep him busy this summer. Aside from looking after his small herd of Angus cattle, he had plenty of ranch repairs that needed his attention and if he still had time on his hands, he’d paint the blasted house. Add the extra responsibilities of being a mayor and he doubted he’d run into Heather more than once or twice during the entire summer—if she lasted that long.
With a disgusted huff, he gave in to the urge to study her. He’d intended to focus on her face, but his gaze slipped past her dainty freckled nose and stubborn chin, then landed on her midriff. Hip-hugging jeans and a sleeveless crop top offered him an unfettered view of the dreaded belly ring. Heather sighed and the silver butterfly slipped below the waistband, then a moment later popped back into view, fluttering its wings.
“Royce!”
Jerking the steering wheel to the right, Royce swerved back into the proper lane. “Sorry,” he grumbled. Good thing the roads were deserted this time of day. He’d better drag his mind out of the gutter if he expected the two of them to arrive at the ranch in one piece.
He opened his mouth to ask if she’d planned to finish earning her degree next fall, but stopped himself. The subject of Heather dropping her summer classes would only end in an argument. Even though he believed quarreling was the safest path to take with Heather, she didn’t deserve to be provoked. “Luke will be happy to see you.” His foreman was a safe topic. The aging cowboy had always had a soft spot for Heather.
“How’s Luke doing?” Heather shifted against the seat, the movement sending a wave of honeysuckle-scented perfume his way.
“Ornery as ever. The arthritis is slowing him down some, so he doesn’t work the cattle anymore. But he watches over the horses and weeds the vegetable garden.”
She nibbled her lower lip, and he caught a glimpse of her crooked eyetooth. He’d always thought that tooth made her appear winsome when she smiled. She had pretty teeth. White and, except for the one tooth, remarkably straight for not having had braces.
“I’ve missed Luke, too.” She fingered the stack of mayor-mail sitting on the seat between them. “Your life must be pretty hectic…being the mayor and playing cowboy.”
He caught himself from blurting out that his life had become a lot less complicated the day she left for college. And a lot more lonely. “Do you remember the Wilkinson family?”
“The name sounds vaguely familiar.”
“Their eldest son, Kenny, is sixteen now. He gives Luke a hand a couple of days a week. And every fall I pay several high school seniors to brand the cattle and get them ready to ship to market.”
“What about the rest of the year?”
“I only run a few hundred head now. Most of the time, I manage fine on my own.”
“Sounds like a lot of work for one man.”
No argument there. By the end of the week he was exhausted. A year ago he’d thought about hiring another hand, but Luke had gotten all blustery and defensive and had insisted he could still lasso a cow. To prevent the old man from working himself into an early grave, Royce struggled along on his own and kept his mouth shut.
“Why did you decrease the size of your herd?”
“Beef prices aren’t what they used to be. The first year after you graduated from