The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride. Sherryl Woods

clerk, he drove to a quiet street that looked more residential than commercial. A block or so from the address for Sanducci’s office, he noted the discreet signs on the lawns of modest-sized homes that appeared to have been built around the turn of the century. Law offices, talent agencies, even a recording studio had been tucked away here before skyscrapers had lured most of the business into downtown.

      Harlan Patrick pulled into a circular driveway just as a fancy sports car shot out the other side. One car remained in front of the house, a minivan with a child’s seat in the back and toys scattered on the floor. He doubted it belonged to Mr. Nick Sanducci.

      He strolled through the front door and wandered into a reception room that had obviously once been the house’s living room. The walls were decorated with gold records and photos of a half dozen of the hottest names in country music, including a blowup of Laurie that could make a man’s knees weak. That wall of photos and records was the only testament to the nature of Mr. Sanducci’s business, however.

      Harlan Patrick had to admit the man had excellent taste. The place was crammed with exquisite, expensive antiques. There were some just as valuable up in Grandpa Harlan’s attic, where they’d been stored after Janet had gone through and turned White Pines from a hands-off showplace into a home.

      The reception desk was neat as a pin and, with no one seated at the chair behind it, more temptation than he could resist. He edged a little closer, noting that the desk belonged to one Ruby Steel, according to the nameplate that was half-buried in a stack of papers.

      He surveyed the rest of the desk with interest. That big old Rolodex probably had phone numbers on it that could do him a whole lot of good. And that bulging desk calendar probably contained all sorts of concert dates, including Laurie’s.

      He was about to make a grab for it when a lazy, sultry voice inquired with just a touch of frost, “Can I help you?”

      He turned slowly and offered the sort of grin that had gotten him out of many a scrape over the years, at least if there was a female involved. Ruby was young enough to look susceptible, but her frown never wavered. Obviously a woman who took her last name—Steel—to heart.

      â€œHey, darlin’, I was just wondering where you’d gone off to.”

      â€œAnd you thought you’d find me under the desk?” She gave him a thorough once-over that could have served her well at a police lineup. “Let me guess. You’re the one who called wanting to book Laurie Jensen.”

      He could have lied, probably should have, but something told him the truth would get him what he needed a whole lot faster.

      â€œYou’ve got a good ear for voices, sugar.”

      â€œAnd I’ve got the good sense not to go giving out information to strangers,” she said in a tone that warned him not to waste his time trying to wheedle anything out of her.

      Harlan Patrick was undaunted. He pretended he hadn’t been close enough to discover the nameplate and asked, “What’s your name, sugar?”

      â€œMy name’s Ruby, cowboy, and there’s no need telling me yours, because it doesn’t matter. I can’t help you.”

      His gaze narrowed at that. Something told him that Laurie had given this woman very clear and specific instructions where he was concerned.

      â€œNow, why is that? Aren’t you in the business of getting work for your clients?”

      â€œNick is. My job is protecting them.”

      â€œThen maybe I ought to talk to Nick.”

      â€œYou can’t. He’s gone.”

      The fancy sports car, Harlan Patrick concluded. “When will he be back?”

      â€œHard to say. Nick’s unpredictable.”

      â€œTonight?”

      â€œI doubt it.”

      â€œTomorrow morning?”

      â€œPossibly. Then again, he could get a call from one of his clients and have to take off in the middle of the night.”

      Harlan Patrick hid a grin. Ruby was tough, all right. “How often does that happen?”

      â€œYou’d be surprised.”

      â€œI don’t suppose you’d like to go out for a drink?”

      She waved her left hand under his nose. A wedding ring and diamond flashed past. “I don’t think so, cowboy. And you could get me drunk as a skunk and I still wouldn’t tell you how to find Laurie.”

      â€œBecause she told you not to,” he guessed aloud.

      Ruby hesitated for just an instant, then nodded. “Because she told me not to and because I protect the privacy of all our clients. I value their trust.”

      â€œWhat if I told you I was her old childhood sweetheart?”

      â€œI’d ask how come she left you behind if you were all that special.”

      The barb hit its mark. “Now, darlin’, that is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “You know, don’t you?”

      For the first time, little Miss Ruby squirmed. “Know what?”

      â€œThat I’m the daddy of that baby of hers.”

      â€œI don’t know any such thing,” she retorted, but there was a telltale flush in her cheeks.

      He kept right on. “And you don’t believe that a daddy should be separated from his child, do you, Ruby?” He recalled the baby seat in the van outside. “You’re a mama yourself. You disapprove of what Laurie’s done to me. I could see it in the way the corners of your mouth turned down when I mentioned that baby.”

      She ducked her head. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

      â€œBecause your duty’s to Laurie.”

      Her chin came up, and she shot a defiant look straight at him. “Exactly.”

      They stood there, facing each other, neither of them saying a word, until finally Harlan Patrick sighed.

      â€œWould it matter if I told you I love her?”

      Her expression softened. “It might to me, but I’m not the one who needs convincing, am I?”

      He grinned. “No, but you are the one who stands between me and her.”

      She grinned back. “You are a sneaky, persistent devil—I’ll give you that.”

      Harlan Patrick felt a faint stirring of hope. “Will you help me, Ruby?”

      Still smiling, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “No. Now, scoot along out of here, cowboy. I’m closing for the day.”

      â€œI’ll be back in the morning,” he promised, taking the defeat with good grace. Ranting and raving wouldn’t work with a woman like Ruby, but he had a hunch that he could wear her down with charm and a few more reminiscences about the old days he’d shared with Laurie.

      â€œSuit yourself, but the answer won’t be one bit different tomorrow.”

      â€œWe’ll see,” he said, and tipped his hat. “It’s been my pleasure, darlin’.”

      She gave him a stern, no-nonsense look. “I can’t imagine why. You look like a man who’s all too used to getting his own way.”

      He