The Stranger Next Door. Joanna Wayne
man who might be able to give her back her life. Now those hopes had been dashed with a single sentence out of the sheriff’s mouth.
Danielle slid the wet backpack down her arms, then scooted into the booth across the table from Langley Randolph. She faked a smile and hoped the rugged cowboy couldn’t hear the grumbling of her stomach when the man called Gus set a plateful of crispy onion rings between them. The last meal she’d eaten had been the lumpy oatmeal and cold toast the hospital had served for breakfast yesterday. Since then, she’d made do with a couple of cartons of milk and the crackers she’d picked up when the bus had made its pit stops.
Still, the little money her teenage roommate at the hospital had lent her would disappear fast enough without wasting it on restaurant food. Especially after she’d already used half of the meager funds to buy a bus ticket, an inexpensive backpack and a few other necessities.
Her mouth watered. She turned and stared out at the storm, but it was no use. The aroma was like a magnet, pulling her gaze back to the golden-brown slices of battered onion.
Langley pushed the plate in front of her. “Have some,” he insisted. “I hate to eat alone. Besides, Gus is a very sensitive man. His feelings will be hurt if you don’t rave over his speciality of the house.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to try them.” She lifted one from the plate and slipped it into her mouth. She chewed it too fast, but once her stomach had food that close, it refused to hold out any longer.
A minute later, Gus placed two more plates in front of them, each holding an oversize cheeseburger with thick slices of tomato and crisp lettuce.
“I know you said you weren’t hungry,” he said, “but I had this cooked already. It’s on the house. Just eat what you want.”
So she hadn’t fooled anyone. Obviously, she wasn’t a good actress. She hoped that wasn’t what she’d done for a living before…before she’d almost wound up dead. Before her life had slipped away in a black cloud of desperation.
She forced her mind back to the present. “Thanks, Gus,” she replied, her fingers already closing around the sesame-seed bun. “If the burger is as good as the onion rings, I’ll be able to eat it even if I’m not hungry.”
“Good. You eat up. Keep Langley here company, but don’t let him bore you with talk about those cows of his.”
“I promise not to get bored.” She bit into the burger as Gus walked away. Her taste buds danced deliriously. After two weeks of hospital food and two days of starvation, the thick, juicy beef was like manna from heaven.
She felt Langley’s eyes on her while she ate and knew he was sizing her up, but even that wasn’t enough to squelch her enjoyment of the meal. With all the problems she had, any pleasure at all was a cause for celebration.
Langley didn’t say a word until she’d finished everything on her plate, but the second the last bite was swallowed, he propped his elbows on the table and leaned in close. “I’m kind of surprised to hear that Milton had a niece. I’d heard he didn’t have any family.”
She stared him down. “I guess you heard wrong.” His attitude annoyed her. More to the point, it made her nervous. As nervous as the badge on his shirt did. She’d had enough of arrogant lawmen over the past two weeks.
They’d interrogated her endlessly and then doubted her answers. They’d poked into her affairs and then questioned her integrity.
“Were you a friend of my uncle’s?” she asked, hoping to throw the focus of the conversation on something other than herself. Besides, she needed all the information she could get, and the sooner the better.
Langley leaned back in his chair. “I wouldn’t say your uncle and I were friends. More like acquaintances.”
“But you did know him?”
“We were neighbors. My family owns the Burning Pear Ranch, and it borders the Running Deer. We’re separated by a creek that’s dry about half the time and by miles of barbed wire.”
“So you live by the theory that good fences make good neighbors?”
“Absolutely. Especially in cattle country.”
The sheriff was smiling now, a nice open smile that curled his lips and touched his dusky gray eyes. Maybe she’d been too quick to judge. But then, she was in no position to trust anyone, especially a stranger who, like it or not, was probably going to know as much about her as she knew about herself before long.
Langley swirled the coffee in his white mug, then drank it down to the last drop before pushing the empty cup to the side. “Have you ever been to the Running Deer?”
She managed a smile, thankful the sheriff had asked one of the few questions that fitted her standard reply. “Not that I remember.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin, then placed it on the table. “But I’m anxious to see it. Can we get started now?”
He met her gaze but made no move to get up. “Are you planning on spending the night there?”
“Of course.” Something in his expression sent new waves of alarm careening through her senses. “There is a house, isn’t there?”
“Of sorts. It’s a little run-down and short on modern conveniences.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage.”
“As long as you don’t mind roughing it.”
Langley reached into his back pocket and pulled out a few bills. He tucked them under his plate, then finally stood, moving in a slow, languid manner that was strangely seductive. Or maybe it was the bronzed flesh beneath the sun-bleached hair or the rugged cast to his youthful face that generated the masculine appeal.
“I’ll drop you off and stay while you check out the condition of the place,” he proposed. “If you change your mind about wanting to stay out there, I’ll run you back into town to the motel.”
“I’m tough. I can handle a few nights without luxuries.” At least she hoped she was tough. If she wasn’t, life was about to become even more unpleasant than it already had been in the past couple of weeks. Because like it or not, the Running Deer was now home. The only one she had.
She joined Langley in saying goodbye to Gus and offered a genuine thank-you for her food, assuring him it was the best she’d eaten in a long time. It was nice to be totally honest for a change.
Langley held out his jacket and then slipped it over her shoulders when she accepted. The early November wind was cutting, but the downpour had slowed to a drizzle by the time they left the café and walked the few steps to Langley’s pickup truck. He opened the door and she climbed inside. She waited for the chills of apprehension to close around her heart as Langley slid behind the wheel and slammed his own door shut.
But for the first time in two weeks, her pulse didn’t race and her stomach didn’t tie itself into ratty knots at the prospect of being alone with a strange man. Maybe her psychological scars were starting to heal the way her physical ones had. Or maybe a stalwart cowboy lawman in a small Texas town far away from New Orleans didn’t unnerve her the way every man who’d entered her hospital room had.
Now all she had to worry about was what she was going to do on a ranch when all she knew about cows was that they gave milk or became steak. And all she knew about herself were the images that haunted her mind, like a video that played the same terrifying scene over and over again.
She shivered, suddenly all too aware that she was about to be alone on a ranch in the middle of nowhere with only the ever-running tape in her mind for company. It wouldn’t take long to find out just how tough she really was.
LANGLEY TURNED IN AT the Running Deer Ranch, surprised to find the gate unlatched and swung open. He got out of the truck and closed it behind them, suspicion running rampant in his usually trusting mind. Maybe it was the badge that had changed him, or maybe it was just that in trying to fill Branson’s shoes, he had adopted the same doubting-Thomas