The Cowboy and the New Year's Baby (6 page)

“What sort of business?”

“A dinosaur, really. A small, independent bookstore. I specialized in mysteries mostly, which gave me a niche and a loyal customer base. I even had a mail-order catalogue and Internet Web page that were doing really well.”

“I thought all the independent bookstores were being forced into bankruptcy by the big chains,” he said. “That Meg Ryan movie that made a fortune a while back was about that.”

“Which is why everyone told me I was nuts,” she agreed. “But with good customer service, the right niche, the right location and some innovative marketing, it’s possible to survive.”

“Why not do that here?” he asked. He almost groaned aloud the instant the words were out of his mouth. Was he nuts? He’d spoken before he considered the implication. As soon as he’d said it, he regretted the suggestion. Hadn’t he just lectured himself about the dangers of doing anything at all to keep Trish around town? He was usually a whole lot more careful about the words he uttered around any female.

She stopped so fast, he almost charged right into her. “Here?” she echoed as if he’d suggested setting up shop on Mars.

“Probably not a good idea,” he said hurriedly. “It’s a small town. You’d go broke in a month.”

As if she hadn’t even heard him, her expression turned thoughtful. She began to move again, albeit at an even slower pace. “There’s no bookstore in town?”

He sighed, then reluctantly admitted what she could discover in ten seconds on her own anyway. “No.”

“What about Garden City?”

“I think there’s one at the mall, but no superstore, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Hmm.”

He could practically see the wheels turning as she toyed with the idea. As for him, his palms started turning sweaty, and his stomach began churning as
he realized she’d taken him seriously and was actually considering settling down in Los Piños. Heaven help him!

“Property downtown probably has very low overhead,” she mused. “I could create a new catalogue and a jazzy new Web page. Legally I’d probably have to expand beyond mysteries and be a full-service bookstore, so I wouldn’t be competing directly with the business I sold. Maybe I could add in a lot of Westerns. That might do really well on a Web page. I’ve heard stores in other parts of the country don’t stock that many beyond Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey.” She gazed at him with sparkling eyes. “What do you think?”

“It sounds like a possibility,” he said neutrally, regretting his lack of nerve to tell her it was insane so she’d forget all about it.

“Maybe I’ll drive into town tomorrow and take a look at what’s available.”

“You shouldn’t be driving,” he scolded, seizing on any excuse he could think of to delay her putting this impetuous plan into action. Maybe if he could stall her long enough, she’d forget all about it.

“Thank you, Dr. Jones,” she retorted.

He snatched another excuse out of thin air. “Besides, your car’s still in a ditch.”

“No, it isn’t. Jordan arranged to have it towed, checked out and brought over here this morning.”

“You still shouldn’t be driving,” Hardy insisted. “Surely that’s just good common sense. After all, you just had a baby.”

“In some parts of the world, women have babies
out in the field and get right back to work,” she pointed out.

Having just seen firsthand how difficult giving birth was, Hardy shuddered. “It can’t be good for them.”

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying that giving birth is natural. It doesn’t turn you into an invalid.”

“Whatever you say. If you’re getting a little stir-crazy sitting around, I’m sure Kelly can find some chores for you to do. Scrubbing floors and washing windows, maybe. Or maybe you’d like to ride out and round up some cattle with me?”

He’d been teasing, but her expression immediately brightened. “Oh, could I? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

He stared at her incredulously. “You actually want to bounce around in a saddle?”

She winced. “Well, maybe not today, but soon. You won’t forget, will you?”

Hardy had a hunch she wouldn’t allow him to. Since she didn’t seem to have a lick of common sense, he said, “Look, if you can wait till tomorrow evening to go into town, I’ll take you. We can grab some dinner and then cruise up and down Main Street to see if any property is available. I doubt there’s much. Most of the businesses have been there since the town was first settled.”

“Then it’s time a new one came along to shake things up,” she said, undaunted by his deliberately discouraging assessment.

They had reached the porch. Hardy stood at the foot of the steps, determined not to set foot inside
that house where all manner of schemers lurked. Where Laura might be around needing to be held, he conceded; that was the real threat.

“The baby’s doing okay?” he inquired, forcing himself to act as if the question were no more than idle curiosity.

“She’s fine,” Trish said, beaming. “The best thing I’ve ever done. Want to come in and see her?”

“Not tonight,” he said a little too hurriedly.

She gave him an oddly knowing look, then shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow then. What time?”

“Six o’clock okay?”

“Perfect. I can get Laura fed and she’ll stay down for a few hours. I’ll make sure it’s okay with Kelly if I leave her here.”

“Oh, I doubt she’ll object,” Hardy said dryly. In fact, if he had to put money on it, he’d bet that Kelly would do a little jig in the street when she discovered that Trish was thinking of staying and that it had been his idea.

Obviously, he’d lost his mind.

M
aybe he could still talk her out of staying in Los Piños, Hardy consoled himself as he drove over to pick up Trish the next night. After all, the decision hadn’t been carved in granite.

He had told absolutely no one about his impulsive, ill-considered idea. He just prayed that it would come to nothing and no one would ever find out about it. He was taking enough ribbing about Trish and the baby as it was. If people found out he’d all but asked her to stick around town, they would make way too much of it.

“Come on in,” Kelly said, greeting him at the door with a beaming smile.

Hardy took one look at her expression and concluded he was already out of luck. She knew. Either
Trish had already blabbed about the reason for this excursion or Kelly had drawn her own conclusions. Either way, his goose was cooked.

“I can wait out here,” he said, hoping to forestall a cross-examination. “Unless it’s going to be a while.”

“No, she’ll be right down. She’s just checking on the baby one last time.” She gave him a knowing look. “You aren’t afraid I’m going to subject you to some sort of inquisition if you come inside, are you?”

“Of course not,” he lied.

“Well then, I don’t see any need for the two of us to stand out here freezing. Jordan’s away on business, so you’re safe on that front, too.”

He forced a smile. “Not to be disrespectful, but you really are a handful, aren’t you?”

She grinned. “I certainly try to be. It keeps marriage from getting stale.”

Hardy stepped inside, then stood there, warily eyeing Kelly Adams. She was all but popping with curiosity. He figured her promise not to subject him to a string of nosy questions was likely to be as short-lived as his resolve to steer clear of Trish. She didn’t disappoint him.

“I hear you suggested Trish open a bookstore right here in Los Piños,” she said conversationally.

“It didn’t happen exactly like that, but yes, I suppose I’m the one who planted the idea.”

“I think it’s a brilliant idea. It would be wonderful not to have to drive all the way over to Garden City just to pick up a paperback.”

“Sharon Lynn stocks paperbacks at Dolan’s,” he pointed out. “Maybe she’s thinking of expanding. How’s she going to feel about a bookstore going in?”

“She only carries a few bestsellers,” Kelly said dismissively. “Not nearly enough for an avid reader. Besides, she thinks they’re a nuisance.”

He twisted his hat in his hands. “Yeah, well, it probably won’t work out. I doubt there’s any property available on Main Street.”

“Actually, there is,” Kelly said, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “I checked it out today. That little tailor shop right next door to Dolan’s is closing. I think it’s the perfect size for a bookstore, don’t you? With a little work, it would be wonderfully cozy. And the rent is reasonable. More than reasonable, really. Trish couldn’t believe it.”

Hardy bit back a groan. “Harlan Adams wouldn’t by any chance own that property, would he?” he asked suspiciously. If the man hadn’t owned it this morning, he probably did by now.

Kelly beamed. “Why, as a matter of fact, he does.”

“I don’t suppose it was his idea to boot the tailor shop out of there?”

“Of course not. Willetta’s eyes aren’t what they used to be. Can’t thread a needle if you can’t see, you know. She’s been wanting to retire for a long time. She finally made the decision to join her sister in Arizona.”

It wouldn’t surprise Hardy to discover that Harlan
Adams was paying her moving expenses and giving her some sort of payoff to get her out of there.

“Funny, I hadn’t heard a thing about that,” he said, watching Kelly’s face for any sign of a telltale blush. She didn’t so much as blink.

“It was a recent decision,” she told him, then glanced upstairs. “Oh, here’s Trish now. Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

Hardy didn’t need any coaching to agree. She looked fabulous. She was wearing a dark-blue wool skirt that fell to midcalf, boots, and a pale-blue sweater that looked so soft he had to stop himself from reaching out to brush his fingers over it. She’d worn her hair down, so that it skimmed her shoulders in soft waves. Suddenly he felt just as he had in high school when he’d picked up his date for the senior prom. He was flustered and tongue-tied. Why was it this woman could reduce him to a jumble of nerves, when no other woman on earth could?

“Ready to go?” he asked, his tone brusque.

“Absolutely.”

He turned to Kelly. “We won’t be long,” he said, as if she’d just reminded him of some curfew.

“Stay as long as you like,” she retorted, her eyes glittering with amusement. “I don’t have any plans for this evening. Laura and I will be just fine.”

After they were settled in his truck and on the way, Trish turned in the seat to face him. “It’s very nice of you to do this,” she said.

“No problem.”

“It’s great to be able to start thinking about the future, making plans. For a long time all I thought
about was getting away from Houston, away from my father, away from…well, everything.”

“Including Laura’s father?”

“Him most of all, I suppose.”

“Have you told him about her?”

“No, but I’m sure my father has. They’re very tight.”

Hardy gritted his teeth. “Is that so?”

“Jack works for him. He’s been envisioning a vice presidency ever since he and I started dating. I’m sure it must be a huge disappointment to him to think he might actually have to earn it.”

Hardy shot a look at her. “You don’t think much of the man, do you?”

“I did for a while. He was handsome and charming. He courted me with fancy dinners and thoughtful little gifts. I got caught up in the romance.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me. What happened?”

“It turned out I was only one of the women being treated to such attention.” She made a face. “I’ve never been fond of being part of a crowd, especially when I’m the one wearing an engagement ring. I made a rather public scene and broke it off the same day I found out I was pregnant.”

“Lousy timing,” he observed.

“I don’t suppose there’s any good time to make a discovery like that, but in a way I’m glad it happened when it did. What if I’d actually married the jerk and then found out? Bottom line, Laura and I are both better off without him.”

“But your folks don’t see it that way?”

“Oh, no. They had visions of us being one big
happy family. Still do. The more distance I keep between us until they accept my decision, the better. My father tends to bulldoze over any decision he finds inconvenient. He found my decision to dump Jack extremely inconvenient. It’s left him with a gap in his executive staff. He can’t very well make Jack a vice president when all of Houston society knows what happened between him and me. The whole country club witnessed me dropping my engagement ring down the overexposed cleavage of one of his girlfriends.”

Hardy laughed, which earned him a scowl.

“It wasn’t funny,” she chided.

“I’m sure it wasn’t at the time, but you have to admit it made quite a statement. I’m impressed.”

Her lips twitched ever so slightly. “Yes, I suppose it did. I always wondered, though, which of them retrieved it. Jack, probably. The diamond was worth a fortune, and she didn’t strike me as a keeper.”

“So you packed up and took off?”

“Not right away. I had to plan for it. I had to sell my business, close up my apartment and do it all without my father getting suspicious. He would have locked me in my room at the family mansion if he’d guessed what my intentions were.”

“Being cut off from your family must be difficult. Obviously he loves you or he wouldn’t have stirred up such a ruckus when he realized you were missing.”

She shrugged. “He does love me, in his way. So does my mother. But they’re both more concerned
about how what I do reflects on them than whether or not I’m happy. They hated my bookstore. It wasn’t in the right neighborhood. It didn’t cater to the right clientele. My father referred to it as my little hobby. It drove him crazy that it operated in the black and I didn’t have to keep running to him for money to prop it up. He’d be shocked to find out what I got for it when I sold it.”

Hardy saw an opportunity to slow down her rush to open a bookstore in Los Piños. “Then you don’t have to go back to work right away? You could stay home with Laura for a while?”

“Not immediately, no, but I can’t live off the money forever. I have to use it to start over.”

They finally hit the outskirts of town and her gaze was promptly drawn to the main street of Los Piños. Hardy tried to see it through her eyes. Compared to the high-rise splendor of Houston, it must seem like a shabby distant cousin. Not that the storefronts were dilapidated. In fact, most of them had been spruced up, but they were small, family-owned restaurants and practical businesses designed for the local residents. There wasn’t an expensive boutique or a fancy café among them.

“Oh, it’s charming,” she declared, her eyes shining. “I feel as if I’ve stepped into the middle of
Our Town.
It’s like something from another era. Which shop is the one Kelly said is available? She said it was next to someplace called Dolan’s.”

Hardy pointed out the drugstore. “Dolan’s is owned by Kelly’s niece, Sharon Lynn. Her mother used to run the lunch counter inside and then Sharon
Lynn followed in her footsteps. When old man Dolan decided to retire, Sharon Lynn bought him out. She’s modernized it some, but it’s still basically the same way it’s been since back in the thirties, a real old-fashioned drugstore and soda fountain.”

“And there’s the tailor shop,” Trish said, studying it intently. “Can we park here? I’d like a closer look. I see a light inside. Maybe we can get in so I can look around.”

Hardy had a feeling Willetta was counting on it. She’d probably been asked to linger after hours in anticipation of just such an impromptu visit. Resigned, he pulled into a parking space out front. Trish was out of the car before he could turn off the engine.

“Are you coming?” she called back impatiently.

“I didn’t realize it was urgent,” he muttered.

“I heard that.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door. “Shall I try it or knock?” she wondered aloud, then settled the matter, by doing both simultaneously. “Hello. Is anyone here?”

Willetta came in from the back, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She gave Hardy a sour look. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Hey, Willetta,” he said, ignoring her brusque manner. He’d brought his mending by a time or two and they’d always gotten along well enough. She was just naturally cranky.

She turned to Trish and looked her up and down. Apparently the survey didn’t satisfy her curiosity. “Who are you?” she demanded. “I don’t recall seeing you around town before.”

“Willetta, this is Trish Delacourt,” Hardy explained. “She’s interested in renting this space.”

“Somebody told me about that,” she said distractedly, moving to a desk and searching through the pile of papers scattered over it. “I wrote it down.” She finally picked up a scrap of yellow paper. “Here it is. Trish Delacourt. Yes, that’s what it says, all right.”

Trish appeared startled. “Who told you I might be by?”

“Harlan, who else? The old coot’s anxious to get a new tenant in here before the last one’s even out the door. For all of his money, he’s still a greedy old man.”

“Harlan?” Trish echoed. “Harlan Adams?”

“Isn’t that what I said? Are you deaf, girl?”

“No, I’m just surprised, that’s all. I had no idea he was even involved.”

“Owns the place,” Hardy informed her, enjoying her startled reaction.

“I see.”

“I doubt it,” Hardy said grimly.

“Well, are you going to look around or waste time gabbing?” Willetta demanded. “I don’t have all night. I’ve got to get home and get my dinner or I’ll be up all night with indigestion.”

Clearly taken aback by her abrupt demeanor, Trish hesitated. Hardy could have encouraged a quick departure right then, but he figured she’d only insist on coming back at a more convenient time. He tucked a hand under Trish’s elbow.

“We’ll look around,” he told Willetta. “Won’t take but a minute.”

“Yes, thank you,” Trish said. “I really appreciate you letting us interrupt your evening.”

As near as Hardy could tell, there wasn’t much to see. The tailor shop was one long, narrow room with a fireplace on one wall that looked as if it might still work, though it was doubtful it had been used in years. Halfway back, Willetta had hung a drape across a rod to close off a room where she kept material, took measurements and did her sewing. In front a few old mannequins displayed out-of-date dresses she had apparently designed. He tried to envision it with the clutter gone, the fireplace blazing and books lining the walls. His imagination didn’t stretch that far.

Apparently, however, Trish’s did. Her eyes were alight with excitement as she spun in a slow circle. “It’s wonderful,” she declared. “Could I see in the back?”

“Don’t see why not,” Willetta said. “Everybody else in town traipses back there.”

Hardy followed as Trish opened the curtain and stepped into the back room. Only then did he realize just how deep the shop was. There was at least twice as much room in the back as in the front, plenty of room for a small bookstore.

“There’s a storeroom that goes with it,” Willetta grudgingly told them. “Runs behind the office next door.” She pointed to a door. “Through there. There’s a bathroom, too.”

Trish eagerly opened the door and wandered
through. “Oh, my, it’s huge,” she announced. “More than enough room for stock and the mail-order operation.” She turned her gaze on him. “It’s perfect. And I can’t believe the rent. Compared to Houston, it’s a steal.”

Hardy could see that the whole plan was spinning wildly out of his control. She was going to land smack in the middle of his life, and there was almost nothing he could see to do about it.

“You’re in the middle of nowhere,” he reminded her, trying to keep a desperate note out of his voice. “That’s why it’s so cheap.”

“Internet. Mail order,” she countered. “For those, location doesn’t matter.”