Chapter One
Shades of Trouble
____
Three months later...
Trees huddled over the road, dappling the asphalt with shade as I pushed my Audi into the next corner.
I was almost there. The drive from New York had been long and boring, leaving me exhausted and ready to be home.
As the landmarks became familiar, I knew I was close.
Another coffee would be nice, but I hoped it would be from Gran's espresso machine and not some cheap gas station crap.
Around the next corner, I looked over a pristine pasture, admiring the horses grazing in the sweltering sun.
It was only a second. I'd barely taken my eyes away from the road, but when they returned, it was too late.
Jerking the wheel made the car lurch to the side, but my tire still smashed right into the discarded two-by-four peeking over the shoulder.
For a single breath, I hoped I hadn't ruined anything - then the tire began to thump and the dash lit up.
"Crap!"
I slowed down, limping the car around the next bend to a straight patch with something like a shoulder. Pulling over as far as I could, I stepped out to check the disaster. This stupid town had to be cursed.
When I got to the passenger side, I saw it was just the tire.
The rest of the car looked fine, but it would probably need a trip to the shop to be sure.
Grumbling under my breath, I reached back into the car for my phone, googling the number for roadside assistance.
While the disturbingly chipper hold music played, I leaned back against the door, hoping to catch a hint of a breeze.
Late June in Texas was about the same temperature as hell.
"Roadside Service," a woman finally answered.
"Hi, yeah, I'm on Farm to Market 1762, outside Bonham with a flat."
"Mm." The sound of a keyboard could be heard over the phone. "Do you have a spare?"
"Yep."
While the woman kept making thoughtful noises, I again reached into my car and grabbed my hat.
Twisting my hair up with one hand, I managed to tuck it under the newsboy-style cap, giving myself some relief from the oppressive heat.
The woman on the other end didn't seem to notice.
She was still making those noises that said it was going to be a long-ass wait.
Finally, the dispatcher said, "Looks like I can have someone up there in about two hours."
"What?!" Two hours? Not worth it! I groaned in frustration. "Ok, fine. Send them, but if I can change it myself, I'll call to cancel."
"All right, then I have a service truck en route to you. Please call back if you have any additional needs."
I punched the button to end the call muttering, "Sure," under my breath.
Tossing my phone back onto the passenger seat, I popped the trunk and pulled out the scissor jack.
Setting that by the rear wheel, I went back for the spare, thwarted by the apparently empty trunk.
I knew I had one - I'd made sure of it when I bought the car - but damned if I could see it, so I leaned a little farther in, looking for the false floor.
Kicking one high-heeled foot behind me, I leaned as far into the trunk as I could.
Out here in the boonies, traffic was few and far between.
A single car had passed when I was looking up the phone number, but that was it.
Naturally, as soon as I was ass up, another lumbered up from behind me.
I chuckled, all too aware of the view the driver must be getting, but didn't care.
These modern sports cars all had a secret compartment for the tiny little doughnut spare, and I was going to find it.
But the diesel slowed. Extracting myself from the bowels of my car, I looked up to see it crawling by in the wrong lane, giving me plenty of room.
As soon as it was past, it darted back over - right to the shoulder - and stopped.
Perfect. My first impression back in town would be that of a damsel in distress. Not quite what I'd planned.
The door of the big blue truck opened, releasing the sound of modern country music.
A moment later, the driver stepped out. In my life, I'd seen a lot of really pretty men.
Most of them were gay, but still. This guy was nothing like them.
His chest was massive. His arms were thick.
The way his jeans molded to his thighs proved that he had a lot of experience using them.
My first thought was that Ashton would never let me live this down.
Right on its heels, I realized that maybe there was something to the whole cowboy fetish.
"Having some trouble, ma'am?" he asked.
I just pressed a hand to my head. "Uh, yeah. I'm having a bad case of blonde. New car, and I have no clue where they hid the spare."
He nodded, walking around to the trunk to stand beside me. "Ah. Got a flat?"
"Yep. Hit that two-by-four in the road."
His eyes jerked to me but he ducked his head to hide the smile. "Me, too."
"Had to rub it in, didn't ya?" I teased, since clearly his truck wasn't damaged. "I have roadside assistance on the way, but it's gonna be a bit."
Without asking, the cowboy just reached into my trunk and lifted the false floor. "Yeah. Prolly three to four hours. Got a jack?"
So that's where my spare had been hiding! "By the back tire."
My good Samaritan heaved the replacement out with one arm - and what a nice arm it was.
Trailing behind him like a lost puppy, I grabbed the jack and its handle, then followed, feeling a bit useless.
At least from back here, I got a really nice view.
It wasn't just his ass. His shoulders were pretty damned nice, too.
"This thing won't hold for too long." He knelt beside the ruined wheel. "Where ya headed?"
"Just up the road. Cats Peak."
His head jerked up and he met my eyes. I'd seen that vivid shade of green before. As a girl, I'd fantasized about it, but the man before me looked nothing at all like the boy I remembered. This couldn't be the same person, could it?
Slowly, the cowboy smiled. "Vera's granddaughter?"
"Yeah. Gotta finish some paperwork for the inheritance."
"Ah." He claimed the lug wrench and settled it on a nut. "You have her eyes."
"You knew Gran?"
He nodded, unable to speak while he broke the lug nuts free. In between, he managed, "Yep. Been taking care of the place. Live on the next property over. So I've known Vera for years." He paused, then looked up. "Knew. Sorry."
"Yeah." I wasn't quite ready to talk about Gran. "So, um... you got a name, cowboy?"
"Luke Barrett. How about you, princess?" The crooked smile proved he had no clue who I was.
I looked him over again, trying to make my memories mesh with the hunk before me. "Violet Dawson."
His attention returned to the wheel. "Mm. So what do people call you for short?"
"Violet."
He laughed, not even looking up. "Well, that's a mouthful, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess. Never really thought about it."
Finished with the last of the bolts, he finally slid the jack under and began lifting my car. "This your first time to Cats Peak?"
"Nope. Lived here when I was younger. Well, middle school."
"Don't remember ya." He yanked off the ruined tire and turned for the little replacement. "Homeschooled?"
"Something like that." Time to shift the subject a bit. "There a place around here to get a new tire?"
Like a professional, he spun the wrench in his hands, securing the lug nuts back into place. "Yep. We got a grill, a feed store, a vet clinic, and a repair shop. Oh, and the gas station. That's pretty much it."
"Post office?"
He shook his head. "Next town over. So you stayin' for a while?" The car began to sink as he extracted the jack.
I took it from him as soon as the car was free. "Few weeks, at least."
"Gonna be bored up there in that big ol' house alone. Most of us meet up at the grill in the evenings. No beer, but it's as close to a bar as we get. Be happy to introduce you around."
"Thanks," I said, securing the tools back where I'd found them. I had no interest in becoming pals with these people. "Still gotta pack up Gran's things and see how much work the place needs. Last time we talked, she said it wasn't good."
When I headed back for the tire, Luke beat me. A big, strong hand grabbed the edge and hiked it against his hip, not caring about the grease and dust. He gave me a knowing look, then turned for the truck he'd left idling on the side of the road.
"No need to mess up your new car, ma'am. I'll just follow you up to Mike's."
For a moment I wasn't sure if I was offended or flattered. "And what would I have done if you hadn't come along?" The tone of my voice wasn't exactly sweet.
He heaved the tire into the bed. "Cooked in that car while you waited for roadside service?" The smile he turned on me was charming. "Just tryin' to be a gentleman, Miss Dawson. Not sure your nails could take the abuse and there's not exactly a place in town to get them fixed."
He had a point and I knew it. I didn't like it, but I knew it. If it had been anyone else who'd stopped to help... "Ok, so how do I pay you back, Luke?"
Crossing his arms over his chest, the man leaned against his tailgate.
It took everything I had not to drool. Damn, Luke had grown up nicely.
That posture made his arms look larger than life.
It also proved that his shirt was a smidge too tight.
When his eyes drifted down to my shoes and back up, I barely noticed. Oddly, I also didn't care.
"Let me buy ya lunch, and we'll call it even."
"No." I lifted my chin to keep the smile at bay. "Mr. Barrett, this is the twenty-first century. You either work for it or pay for it. You don't get both."
"Miss Dawson, this is Cats Peak, Texas. Out here, we ain't changed the calendars from the 1950s. Man's pride takes a beating if he lets a woman pay."
"I see." I rubbed at a little grease on my hand. A gift from the jack. "Shame. I figured it'd hurt more getting turned down."
He chuckled, the sound rich and deep, but pushed himself away from the back of his truck. For a moment I was confused, until he opened the back door of the cab and grabbed a rag. Inside, the country music was still going.
"Prolly would. So's that your way of saying you'll let me buy you lunch?"
"Nope." I held my ground beside my passenger door. "That's my ultimatum. I buy or I decline."
Luke just walked right up to me and took my wrist, pulling my filthy hand out. "Good thing I have a whole lot of pride." Gently, he wiped away the smudges inside my fingers. "Violet, this town's gonna chew you up and spit you out. They don't like anything new, and you're a whole lot of new."
"I am?"
He turned my wrist and traced one of my nails. "Stuff like this is in magazines. No one wears heels. Not even to church."
"I don't go to church."
"Mhm." His eyes slowly met mine. "And that's gonna cause a few more problems, what with the rumors about Vera and all."
"What rumors?"
He paused and I watched his eyes scan every detail of my face. "Dunno if it's true, but some people said she was a lesbian."
"Yeah?" And they were right. So what?
Luke just took a deep breath. "Well, after her friends all showed up and made some gay pride display at her funeral, there's not gonna be a whole lot of sympathy."
Slowly, I pulled my hand away. "Well, I guess Cats Peak is going to have to get used to it."
"Violet, they'll run you out of town on rails. Honey, these people don't exactly break easily."
"I don't either."
"You sure about that?" A smug eyebrow flicked up, taunting me. "Looks to me like you couldn't even change a tire."
I just leaned into his face. "Let me make this real clear, cowboy. I may look like a million bucks, but I'm not exactly some fragile little flower here to entertain you."
He nodded once. "Good. Bev's Grill is just up the way at the crossroad. You owe me lunch, Miss Dawson."
"Asshole," I grumbled, walking around to the driver's door.
Luke stepped back, looking a little too pleased with himself. "Yes, ma'am. I sure am. That's how I stay sane out here. I'll be right behind ya."