The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride. Sherryl Woods
clerk, he drove to a quiet street that looked more residential than commercial. A block or so from the address for Sanducciâs office, he noted the discreet signs on the lawns of modest-sized homes that appeared to have been built around the turn of the century. Law offices, talent agencies, even a recording studio had been tucked away here before skyscrapers had lured most of the business into downtown.
Harlan Patrick pulled into a circular driveway just as a fancy sports car shot out the other side. One car remained in front of the house, a minivan with a childâs seat in the back and toys scattered on the floor. He doubted it belonged to Mr. Nick Sanducci.
He strolled through the front door and wandered into a reception room that had obviously once been the houseâs living room. The walls were decorated with gold records and photos of a half dozen of the hottest names in country music, including a blowup of Laurie that could make a manâs knees weak. That wall of photos and records was the only testament to the nature of Mr. Sanducciâs business, however.
Harlan Patrick had to admit the man had excellent taste. The place was crammed with exquisite, expensive antiques. There were some just as valuable up in Grandpa Harlanâs attic, where theyâd been stored after Janet had gone through and turned White Pines from a hands-off showplace into a home.
The reception desk was neat as a pin and, with no one seated at the chair behind it, more temptation than he could resist. He edged a little closer, noting that the desk belonged to one Ruby Steel, according to the nameplate that was half-buried in a stack of papers.
He surveyed the rest of the desk with interest. That big old Rolodex probably had phone numbers on it that could do him a whole lot of good. And that bulging desk calendar probably contained all sorts of concert dates, including Laurieâs.
He was about to make a grab for it when a lazy, sultry voice inquired with just a touch of frost, âCan I help you?â
He turned slowly and offered the sort of grin that had gotten him out of many a scrape over the years, at least if there was a female involved. Ruby was young enough to look susceptible, but her frown never wavered. Obviously a woman who took her last nameâSteelâto heart.
âHey, darlinâ, I was just wondering where youâd gone off to.â
âAnd you thought youâd find me under the desk?â She gave him a thorough once-over that could have served her well at a police lineup. âLet me guess. Youâre the one who called wanting to book Laurie Jensen.â
He could have lied, probably should have, but something told him the truth would get him what he needed a whole lot faster.
âYouâve got a good ear for voices, sugar.â
âAnd Iâve got the good sense not to go giving out information to strangers,â she said in a tone that warned him not to waste his time trying to wheedle anything out of her.
Harlan Patrick was undaunted. He pretended he hadnât been close enough to discover the nameplate and asked, âWhatâs your name, sugar?â
âMy nameâs Ruby, cowboy, and thereâs no need telling me yours, because it doesnât matter. I canât help you.â
His gaze narrowed at that. Something told him that Laurie had given this woman very clear and specific instructions where he was concerned.
âNow, why is that? Arenât you in the business of getting work for your clients?â
âNick is. My job is protecting them.â
âThen maybe I ought to talk to Nick.â
âYou canât. Heâs gone.â
The fancy sports car, Harlan Patrick concluded. âWhen will he be back?â
âHard to say. Nickâs unpredictable.â
âTonight?â
âI doubt it.â
âTomorrow morning?â
âPossibly. Then again, he could get a call from one of his clients and have to take off in the middle of the night.â
Harlan Patrick hid a grin. Ruby was tough, all right. âHow often does that happen?â
âYouâd be surprised.â
âI donât suppose youâd like to go out for a drink?â
She waved her left hand under his nose. A wedding ring and diamond flashed past. âI donât think so, cowboy. And you could get me drunk as a skunk and I still wouldnât tell you how to find Laurie.â
âBecause she told you not to,â he guessed aloud.
Ruby hesitated for just an instant, then nodded. âBecause she told me not to and because I protect the privacy of all our clients. I value their trust.â
âWhat if I told you I was her old childhood sweetheart?â
âIâd ask how come she left you behind if you were all that special.â
The barb hit its mark. âNow, darlinâ, that is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.â He regarded her thoughtfully. âYou know, donât you?â
For the first time, little Miss Ruby squirmed. âKnow what?â
âThat Iâm the daddy of that baby of hers.â
âI donât know any such thing,â she retorted, but there was a telltale flush in her cheeks.
He kept right on. âAnd you donât believe that a daddy should be separated from his child, do you, Ruby?â He recalled the baby seat in the van outside. âYouâre a mama yourself. You disapprove of what Laurieâs done to me. I could see it in the way the corners of your mouth turned down when I mentioned that baby.â
She ducked her head. âIt doesnât matter what I think.â
âBecause your dutyâs to Laurie.â
Her chin came up, and she shot a defiant look straight at him. âExactly.â
They stood there, facing each other, neither of them saying a word, until finally Harlan Patrick sighed.
âWould it matter if I told you I love her?â
Her expression softened. âIt might to me, but Iâm not the one who needs convincing, am I?â
He grinned. âNo, but you are the one who stands between me and her.â
She grinned back. âYou are a sneaky, persistent devilâIâll give you that.â
Harlan Patrick felt a faint stirring of hope. âWill you help me, Ruby?â
Still smiling, she looked him straight in the eye and said, âNo. Now, scoot along out of here, cowboy. Iâm closing for the day.â
âIâll be back in the morning,â he promised, taking the defeat with good grace. Ranting and raving wouldnât work with a woman like Ruby, but he had a hunch that he could wear her down with charm and a few more reminiscences about the old days heâd shared with Laurie.
âSuit yourself, but the answer wonât be one bit different tomorrow.â
âWeâll see,â he said, and tipped his hat. âItâs been my pleasure, darlinâ.â
She gave him a stern, no-nonsense look. âI canât imagine why. You look like a man whoâs all too used to getting his own way.â
He