long hours without anyone to talk to.
When the first guests came downstairs to be seated for breakfast, she picked up a large serving dish holding the casserole. Josh stepped in front of her, his fingers brushing hers as he took the dish from her. “Let me. You just fill the plates or whatever you do. I’ll take things to the dining room. I waited tables in college. I told Mr. Hickman I’d be right back, and he’s reading his paper.”
“You’re nice to sit with him,” she said.
“He reminds me of a grandfather I was close to. I like Mr. Hickman.”
She felt a pang. She realized she had been hoping Josh would disappoint her and not like eating in the kitchen or with the elderly man, which would cause her to lose some of her attraction for him. Instead, she was more drawn to him in spite of wishing she weren’t.
She handed the plates to him and went back to fill more. She wondered about his life, and if he had needed a job waiting tables to make the money to go to school. It had been late last night so she hadn’t looked him up on the web, but today she would do a little research on him.
Soon she was too busy dealing with her guests to think about Josh. Finally the dining room was empty and Mr. Hickman had gone to the living room, taking his paper with him.
“Now I’m going to have breakfast,” she told Josh, helping herself. “Can I get you something else?”
He stood to pour another cup of coffee. “I’ll get what I want. When you sit, I’ll join you.” He headed to the dining room and returned carrying dishes, which he placed in the sink. When she finally sat down at the table to eat, he picked up his cup of steaming coffee and sat facing her.
“So what did you and Mr. Hickman talk about?”
“He’s interesting. He’s a fisherman, so we talked about fishing holes and fly-fishing and the biggest trout caught around here, which of course was in a pond that had been stocked.”
“So you have time to fish on top of being a businessman and a rancher.”
“No, not as often as I’d like. I miss it.”
“Maybe this snow is good for you—chance to stop the constant work and enjoy life and that sort of thing,” she said.
“Oh, I know how to enjoy life,” he said quietly, giving her a look that made his remark personal.
“Relax, Josh. Enjoy this snow. I’d be as lost in your busy corporate world as you are in mine.”
“Do you like to dance?”
“I love to dance but do little of it. I don’t get out often. If I go out, it’s with Lamont Nealey, whom I’ve known forever—the friend I was telling you about last night. When we go out, we go to a movie or something on that order.”
“You think I’m missing out on life,” Josh said, “and I think you are. At the same time, I think we have a bit of common ground where we view life the same way. You’re a family person just as I’m a family person.”
“So tell me about your family.”
He reached across the table and wrapped his fingers lightly around her wrist with his thumb where he could feel her pulse. “Coward,” he accused her softly. “I’ll leave it alone now, but we’ll take up this subject again sometime soon.”
“You didn’t see the sign when you came in that reads ‘Guests do not flirt with the staff,’” she said, smiling at him.
“I sure as hell didn’t see any such sign, and if I had, I would pay no attention to it. Not when I get a response from the staff like the one I’m getting right now,” he said, his thumb pressing slightly on her wrist. “Your pulse is galloping.”
“That means nothing,” she said, too aware of his brown eyes that seemed alert, observant and curious.
“Not where I come from,” he retorted. “You want me to tell you what it means?”
“No. You tell me about your family or I’m going to join the guests in the living room.”
With a faint smile, Josh sat back in his chair. “I have three siblings,” he said. “Two older brothers, Mike and Jake, plus a younger sister, Lindsay.”
She listened, learning about his family but still knowing little about his background. From what he had said last night, she suspected a lot of Texans knew who he was. She had an idea he was well-known by wealthy Texas businessmen and probably by Texas socialites.
She was interrupted when a guest came for a late breakfast. As she served it, Josh poured coffee.
Through the morning he worked, doing whatever she needed, and he was a big help to her. Breakfast was over and the kitchen cleaned by a quarter past ten.
“Josh, thanks so much,” she said. “Now I’ll have a break before lunch, which I’m serving because of the weather. No one can get out for lunch.”
“I’m getting the hang of it. I can help with lunch.”
That surprised her—or maybe it shouldn’t have. “I’m taking a short break. Come back in a little while and we can get started.”
“Sure,” he said, jamming a hand in his pocket and leaving the kitchen.
As she headed out and walked past the library, Mr. Hickman lowered his paper and motioned to her to come in.
“Perhaps you should close the door,” he said, stirring her curiosity about what he wanted. “Do you know who your guest Josh Calhoun is? Or his company?”
“I don’t know much about him. He said his business is Calhoun Hotels, and he’s a rancher occasionally,” she said. “He’s just staying until the roads open, and then I’m sure he’ll be gone forever.”
“Oh, no. I think he’ll come back to fish with me.”
“I hope so, if that’s what you want, but he sounds as if he’s wrapped up in his work,” she said.
Mr. Hickman’s brow furrowed, and his watery blue eyes gazed into the distance. “Perhaps at the moment.” His attention returned to her, and he stared at her a moment before he smiled. “He asked a few questions about you. He’s a very nice young man. A knowledgeable fisherman, from his conversation. I liked him.”
“Well, that’s good, because he’s here for a few days.”
Mr. Hickman whispered, “If I were Josh Calhoun, I would ask you out to dinner.”
“I think Josh has a girlfriend,” she whispered back, not knowing whether he did or not, but wanting to stop Mr. Hickman from pursuing that topic with Josh or anyone else.
Mr. Hickman nodded. “Nice fella. Too bad.”
“Mr. Hickman, you like Lamont. That’s who I go out with sometimes.”
“If I were Lamont, I would not wait two or three months between dates. I would never have won my Barbara if I had done that.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “Lamont is nice, and we’re very much alike. That’s what counts.”
“Lamont is my accountant, and you’re my landlady. Frankly, I don’t think you’re as much alike as you seem to think.”
“Do not be a matchmaker, Mr. Hickman. I’m very happy with Lamont. Now I’m going to my room. Are you going upstairs?”
“No, I’ll sit and read the rest of yesterday’s paper,” he said. “You may leave the door open when you go.”
Smiling, she left to go to her room, but her smile faded when she glanced at the closed door between her bedroom and her sitting room, where Josh had slept. He was in his room now, just on the other side of the door. What was he doing? She thought about her reassurances to Mr. Hickman regarding how alike she and Lamont were and how happy she was going out with him.