"I'm serious. I'm not teasing. I do not want you here. It's going to complicate my life beyond words," he said.
"I'm here for six weeks. Sorry if it makes your life less than perfect," she said.
"She's paying you a hundred dollars a week. I'll write you a check for a thousand to leave tonight," he said.
"No thank you."
"Two thousand. Name your price."
"You don't have enough money to make me leave."
"Why?"
"That is my business. I'm staying right here for six weeks and then I promise I'll get out of your way. And darlin', don't worry about me causing a problem with you and your precious lady friend. I've sworn off all men for eternity. I'll tell her that if you want me to."
"What makes you think there's a lady friend?"
"The way you are actin' tells me there is. A woman would give you hell if another woman moved in on her property. Bring her around. I'll tell her I'm damn sure not a threat."
He pointed his finger at her. "You stay away from Kristy."
She slapped it away. "Don't be issuing orders. I'm not here to cause trouble. You stay out of my way and I'll be damn sure I don't get in yours. I'll tolerate your piggish ways and you can pretend I'm just a slave girl. I don't care how you handle it, but I'm not leaving."
Slade narrowed his blue eyes until they were little more than slits. "You are running from the law. That's why you're calling yourself Jane Day. What did you do?"
"Believe what you want. I've got to help Nellie. Conversation is over."
"I'm calling the sheriff of Montague County and seeing if you are wanted anywhere in the state," he said.
"Want me to dial the number for you?"
"You're bluffing."
"Then call my bet and see if the sheriff of Monty County has a thing on me," she threw over her shoulder as she disappeared through the doors.
He took a cell phone from his shirt pocket and dialed the familiar number. He'd grown up with the sheriff. They played poker the first Friday of every month together. Jane Day would be sitting in jail in an hour.
"Hey, Charlie, this is Slade. Got a little favor to ask. Granny hired a woman going by the name of Jane Day. Just picked her up at the bus stop in Wichita Falls this morning and come dragging her home like a stray pup. Please tell me you've got some warrant on her so I can get rid of her."
"Give me a minute," Charlie said.
Slade heard typing on keys and background noise of the deputies coming and going from the sheriff's office.
"Sorry old buddy. Haven't got anything new on anyone for the past three weeks. Did get a fax this morning about some rich broad over in Mississippi who might be headed this way. She run out on her wedding the night before the big ceremony. Her stepdad says it's not like her and he's afraid she might have been kidnapped. Her name is Ellacyn Hayes though. Twenty four years old. Description says she's…"
Slade butted in. "That couldn't be this woman. She's working for a hundred dollars a week and room and board. This lady looks like she'd be pushing it to be nineteen and there's no way she's some rich broad from Mississippi. She don't have that kind of accent and she's wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt. Rich woman wouldn't be dressed like that. I figured her for a runaway from east Texas and was hoping she'd robbed a bank or a liquor store."
"Sorry old pal. How's things going with Kristy?"
"Fine until now. She's going up in smoke when she hears there's a woman living here."
Charlie chuckled. "Women! Can't live with 'em and it's against the law to shoot 'em."
"You got that right."
"Who are you talking to?" Nellie asked as she and Jane toted in leftovers.
Slade snapped the phone shut. "Charlie."
"This ain't a poker night," Nellie said.
"Would that be the sheriff of Monty County?" Jane raised an eyebrow. It was all she could do to keep from bolting and running. John would find the phone. He was such a smooth talker he'd have the sheriff out with a posse hunting her down for him.
"Montague County, not Monty," Nellie said.
"Yes, it was the sheriff. He's one of my friends." Slade narrowed his eyes and slowly went from her toes to her hair. Jane was certainly not a rich runaway bride. But kidnapping might be an option in the game. He could hire someone to nab her and keep her the six weeks she kept mentioning, then turn her loose. Whatever they would charge would be a small price to pay.
"Why were you talking to Charlie?" Nellie asked. "Slade, you weren't asking him about Jane, were you?"
"Yes, I was and it appears she's not wanted by the law. Only person they've got anything on right now is some runaway bride from over in Mississippi. Charlie says her father is looking for her." He watched Jane carefully but she didn't move a muscle; just kept running water to wash up the glasses and cutlery from dinner.
"You reckon your father is looking for you?" Nellie asked.
"My father died when I was ten years old. I don't suppose he's looking for me on this side of the Pearly Gates," Jane said honestly.
"Okay, Slade. Enough is enough. I don't give a damn what Kristy thinks of my decision to hire Jane, if that's what is sticking in your craw. The woman rubs me wrong anyway and she'd want to bring those two little girls to work with her every day and they don't do anything but whine about being bored. Besides she can't cook and I don't want to listen to her constant prattle when she drives me. Jane works for me. She doesn't work for you."
Nellie put the leftover beans in the refrigerator. Slade made a gun with his forefinger and thumb and shot an imaginary bullet at Jane while his grandmother wasn't looking. Jane pretended to catch it in her hand and toss it in the dishwater as she turned her back on him.
It wouldn't be as easy as she'd thought that morning when she sat down beside the elderly lady and caught the first lucky break since she'd run away from a deadly situation. The sheriff had already been warned to be on the lookout, so there was no doubt that John had located the cell phone. He'd turn over every stone between Wichita Falls and Heaven itself to find her. After all, he'd put six weeks into the venture and, even without the life insurance policy, she was worth thousands of dollars to him. Even more to her stepfather, Paul Stokes.
"Did you ever stop and eat dinner?" Nellie asked.
Jane's gag reflex went into fast gear at the thought of swallowing food. "No, but I'm not hungry."
"You're a big girl. You know where the groceries are. Eat when you get hungry. Heat ruins my appetite sometimes, too. But that casserole was so good today that I forgot all about the temperature. We'll get on over to Nocona and pick up groceries soon as you finish up with those dishes. I usually just wash up the dinner ones by hand and put the breakfast and supper ones in the dishwasher and run it before I go to bed."
"Thank you. I'm glad you liked my cooking. You sure about turkey and dressing tomorrow?"
"Yep. I want the boys to eat good to make up for just beans and casseroles today. Working men need lots of real food."
"Is Nocona where the county seat is located?"
"Heavens no. It's the biggest town in the county with around three thousand people. Montague is the county seat. Little bitty place that was bigger than Nocona at one time. What makes you ask?"
"Just wondered."
"You never have been in this part of Texas have you? Where are you from, Jane?"
"I was born in El Dorado, Arkansas."
"You want to tell me how you got to Wichita Falls and why you took me up on my job offer?"
"Not really."
"Well, that's your business. You ever want to talk about it, I'm right here. You don't, I could care less. You about done?"
"Just a few more glasses. And thanks, Nellie."
Chapter 2
THE WHOLE BACKYARD REVERBERATED WITH THE BIRTHDAY song as two strong men carried an enormous cake with seventy-five candles out of the kitchen. Nellie wore stretch denim jeans, a red-and-white seersucker shirt over a white T-shirt, and a great big smile. Her short gray hair had been styled the day before in a curly do that framed her wrinkled face. She sat in a lawn chair beside her sister, Ellen, who wore a stylish tiered skirt of every color in the rainbow and a long, gauzy tunic top belted with a wide gold belt. Her dyed-red hair was big enough to run Dolly Parton some serious competition.
Jane watched from the sliding doors. Ellen helped Nellie blow out the candles and the next generation of Luckadeau women served the cake. The yard was a sea of blond, blue-eyed people with kids to match running every which way. One tall, dark-haired man stood out in the midst of the crowd. A little girl stayed close to him and it was evident she was his daughter, with that white streak in their hair.
A short Mexican lady stepped inside the house and caught the quizzical expression on Jane's face. "He's really a Luckadeau. I asked Beau and he vouched for it. Said it was his mother's genes that surfaced. I could hardly believe it. I thought every baby a Luckadeau threw was blond-haired and blue-eyed. They seem to bypass all the dominant gene rules."
"He looks so out of place," Jane said.
Milli extended her hand. "I'm Milli Luckadeau. Married a year to one of those tall Greek gods out there."
Jane shook it. "I'm Jane Day. Nellie hired me to help out in the kitchen and drive her."
"I know. Gossip travels quickly in the Luckadeau family," Milli smiled.
"You don't match either," Jane said.
"Ain't that the truth. I remember the first time I was thrown in amongst all those blondes. I felt like a one legged chicken at a coyote convention."
"How'd you…?"
Milli giggled. "It's a long story. The one standing over there by the tree holding the little girl with a pink bow in her hair is my husband."
"That's your child he's holding?"
"Yes, that little blonde-haired, blue-eyed child is mine. Hopefully the next one will look like my side of the family, but I wouldn't count on it. The Luckadeau genes are stronger than super glue. Anyway, Katy Scarlett was already born and Beau had no idea he had a child when I ran into him again. I had no idea he was living on the ranch next to my grandparents up near Ardmore, Oklahoma. It sure was a mixed-up summer. We'll swap details sometime when it's quieter. So what's your story?"
"I got off the bus in Wichita Falls and sat down beside Nellie. Half an hour later I was driving her home and working for her. That was a week ago."
"Be careful. Those Luckadeau men have a lot of charm."
"Slade hates me and has a girlfriend," Jane said. "And honey, it would take more charm than he's got to get me to fall for another man. I'm not so sure there's enough charm in the world for that."
Milli laughed again. "Been in that spot, so I can sympathize with you. Someday we really will find a corner and exchange stories. Looks like Katy Scarlett is giving her daddy fits. I'd better go rescue him."
Jane continued to keep an eye on the punch bowl set up beside the cake on the dessert table. She'd filled it five times already and it was down to no more than a cupful. She went to the kitchen and picked up another half-gallon jug of semi-frozen slush and a two-liter bottle of cold ginger ale.
She'd chosen her best pair of worn jeans and tucked in a chambray shirt. She'd cleaned her Nikes and did the best she could with her hair. It was all she could do without a curling iron and shopping and she doubted a hundred dollars would buy much in the way of finery, anyway. Besides, when Nellie said they were having a little family get-together for her seventy-fifth birthday, she hadn't expected every blue-eyed blond in the state of Texas and half those in Louisiana and Oklahoma to show up. She'd cooked a sugar-cured ham and made a large pan of hash brown casserole. Slade had said he was taking care of the cake so she hadn't made dessert. Thank goodness she'd made a triple batch of punch, thinking she'd keep extra in the freezer for later.
Ellen was first in line with her punch cup. "I'm so glad you hired on, honey. Nellie is ten years younger since you got here. And tell me—what is your secret ingredient in this punch? I could swear it has a bit of liquor in it."
"Almond extract. Two ounces for a gallon which makes two gallons when you add the ginger ale," Jane whispered conspiratorially.
"Well, I'll be damned. Almond? Would have never thought of it, but it does taste a bit like Amaretto. You'll have to make it again while I'm here. Nellie and I'll drink it for our afternoon tea instead of lemonade."
"I'd be glad to," Jane said.
"It's wonderful with that cake. Cuts the sweet." She carefully carried the cups back, mincing her steps to keep from spilling a single drop.
"She's an old hippy," Kristy said from behind her. "I heard she was the first one to burn her bra. She's younger than Granny and has always been the black sheep of the family. It's said she's had more lovers than a real hooker."
"Oh?" Jane finished the job and headed back to the house.
Kristy followed and looked down on Jane, who barely came up to her shoulder. There was no way the woman who'd caused her sleepless nights for a whole week could win a fight with a seasoned fighter, and Kristy held the Montague County trophy for verbal as well as real cat fights.