Fortune Hunter's Hero. Linda Turner
for your help, Sheriff. I’ll check into the insurance.”
“Good enough,” he said, shaking his hand. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
He wouldn’t hear anything and they both knew it, but that wasn’t the sheriff’s fault. And it certainly wasn’t Hilda’s. She’d done everything she could to hold the place together, but she’d been old and alone and she’d left a will that, unfortunately, made him and his sisters the target of every jackass out there who thought he was the unnamed heir. And he had a feeling the situation was only going to get worse as the year deadline grew closer and closer. The question was…what the hell was he going to do about it?
The question nagged him the rest of the afternoon as he helped David repair the fence the rustlers had downed, then tow the Jeep back to the house and install a new radiator hose. And the situation only got worse when he discovered there was no insurance on the cattle. Then the new property-tax bill arrived in the mail. He took one look at it and started to swear.
Damnation, where did it end? Between the four of them, he and his sisters could come up with the money, but they didn’t have an unending supply of money. And the ranch seemed to be a bottomless pit. If things didn’t change—and damn soon—they wouldn’t have to worry about losing the ranch because they were gone for forty-eight hours. They’d lose it to bankruptcy!
Disgusted, he needed a drink. All he had to do was step into the library and pour a Scotch and water, but he’d never liked drinking alone. Maybe he’d go into town, see what was going on at the Rusty Bucket. A local watering hole, it was the place to go to hear the latest gossip. Was there any talk about the cattle rustling? How many people knew about it?
The more, the better, he thought grimly as he headed upstairs to his room for a quick shower. The more people who knew a secret, the greater the odds that someone wouldn’t be able to keep their mouth shut. All they had to do was confide in one person, and the news would be all over town. It was just a matter of time.
Forty-five minutes later, he stepped into the Rusty Bucket and wasn’t surprised to find the place packed. When he’d stopped by there his first week in town, nothing about the bar had impressed him. The tables were rough-hewn picnic tables, the lighting was dim to the point of nonexistent and everyone in the joint— he could think of no other way to describe it—seemed interested in drinking beer. There hadn’t been a decent wine in the house. He’d almost left, then the waitress had recommended he try one of the steaks. He’d taken one bite and fallen in love. He’d been a regular ever since.
“Hey, Mr. Wyatt, it’s been a while. Are you on the prowl for a little red meat?”
Greeting Rusty Jones, the owner of the bar, with a grin, Buck drawled, “There’s nothing little on the menu short of a side of beef and you know it. I don’t know how you stay so thin, Yank.”
Tall and lean as a broom handle, Rusty chuckled. “It’s in the genes, Your Lordship. We’re a skinny lot. There’s not a plump one in the family. Now…about that steak…”
“Actually, I just came in for a drink, but a steak’s exactly what I need. I’ll sit at the bar—”
The words were hardly out of his mouth and hanging in the air between them when he spied Rainey Brewster sitting alone at a table for two by the front window. She’d changed into a dark red sweater that did incredible things to her skin and eyes and she’d released her hair from the tight knot she’d had it twisted in earlier. Just that easily, she’d become soft and sexy and touchable. And she was looking right at him.
A smart man would have nodded a curt greeting and headed for the bar. But he’d been thinking about her on and off all day, and suddenly, there she was, right there in front of him. What else was a man who believed in fate supposed to do?
“Never mind,” he told Rusty, never taking his eyes from Rainey. “I’ll join the lady at the table by the window. We have some things to talk about.”
He never saw the surprise in Rusty’s eyes, never saw the watchful stares that took note of his every step as he headed across the bar to where Rainey sat, seemingly waiting for him. How had she known to expect him? He hadn’t known himself that he was coming to town until forty-five minutes ago.
Suspicion churning in his gut, he studied her with narrowed eyes as he reached her table. “Mind if I join you? Or are you expecting someone? I can sit at the bar—”
“No one at the bar can tell you where the mine is, Mr. Wyatt,” she retorted simply. “Pull up a chair.”
She wasn’t smug, but there was a confidence in her blue eyes that told him that it didn’t matter what kind of arrangement they finally agreed on, he was toast. She had something he wanted, and she knew it.
A smart man would have cut and run right then. But there was something about the way she challenged him that he found impossible to resist. So she thought she was clever, did she? Time would tell. Taking the chair across from her, he lifted a dark brow at her in amusement. “Who said I wanted to talk about the mine? Maybe I’m here for a steak.”
“Maybe,” she agreed easily. “So what are you saying? You’re not interested in the mine? No problem. A lot of people think it never really existed, anyway. And maybe it didn’t,” she added with a shrug. “Maybe I misunderstood the papers I found in Spain. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not infallible. And the older the records, the more difficult they are to read and interpret. I could have misunderstood. My Spanish isn’t perfect.”
Flashing him a rueful smile, she reached for one of the menus and changed the subject. “So…what do you recommend? This is the first time I’ve been here. What’s good?”
When she glanced up from her open menu, he just looked at her. “The truth,” he retorted. “You don’t believe for a second that you misinterpreted whatever you found in Spain. So why lie about it?”
Her eyes flashed at that. “I’m not lying. I’m just saying what you want to hear.”
“You wouldn’t still be in town if you thought you were wrong,” he pointed out. “In fact, you seem like the type of woman who would be meticulous about research. You would have never approached me if you thought there was a possibility that you were wrong.”
Surprised, she frowned, irritated. How could he know that? He didn’t even know her. “What I know, Mr. Wyatt, is that, for whatever reason, you don’t want to believe that the so-called experts have been wrong about the mine’s location all these years. Why you would want to believe them instead of me since they haven’t found the mine is beyond me, but that’s your choice. I can’t control what you believe.”
The matter settled as far as she was concerned, she turned with an easy smile to the waitress as she arrived at their table to take their order. “I’ll have the rib-eye and a baked potato with extra butter. Oh, and ranch dressing on my salad.” When she turned back to Buck and found him watching her in amusement, she lifted a brow. “What? Is there a problem?”
“Not at all.” He chuckled. “It’s nice to meet a woman who’s not always on a diet.” Ordering porterhouse steak and a salad, he waited until the waitress had departed before focusing his attention once again on Rainey. “So tell me about your research in Spain.”
She eyed him warily. “Why? So you can shoot me down again?”
His lips twitched. “Are you that easily discouraged?”
“If I was, I would have left town this morning,” she said dryly. “I was hoping if I gave you some time, you would…”
“Come to my senses?”
“Something like that,” she admitted with a grin. “And it worked! Didn’t it?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe not. This is your chance to speak your piece. Give it your best shot.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. “I was in Spain, doing research in a university