The Texan's Tennessee Romance / The Rancher & the Reluctant Princess. Gina WilkinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
she knew, but she’d found nothing about anyone in the firm that could be perceived as evidence that she’d been set up by one of them to take a professional fall.
So Cathy Linski had bought a new car. That was far from incontrovertible evidence of anything except possibly questionable financial judgment.
As for her P.I.—she was beginning to have some doubts about the guy. She had tried twice to reach him that morning, and had gotten nothing but his voice mail. She should have listened to her instincts when she’d first met him. A burly, former police officer in his late thirties, he’d seemed a little sleazy, a bit of a braggart and more than a little annoying. But she’d convinced herself that most private investigators were probably like that, and that she didn’t have to like him personally to work with him. But had her intuition been trying to tell her that he wasn’t going to be a reliable resource?
She set the computer aside in frustration, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do if neither her own clumsy research nor her P.I.’s efforts turned up the evidence she needed to clear her name. Try to believe that some other firm would take a chance and hire her on the basis of her word alone that she had not betrayed the attorney-client privilege for monetary gain? Open her own storefront practice and pray the scandal wasn’t uncovered to humiliate her? Give up and find another career despite the long years of training she had put in to establish this one?
A tap on the back door broke into her unhappy musings. Sighing, she walked into the kitchen, hoping the first aid kit had the supplies to handle whatever Casey’s latest crisis was.
Automatically running a hand through her hair, she opened the door. “Good morning.”
Looking as good as ever, maybe even a little better since he wore a dark green, long-sleeve T-shirt that really brought out the emerald in his multicolored eyes, Casey smiled. “Morning. Hope I’m not bothering you.”
She shook her head, thinking he couldn’t know how relieved she was to be sidetracked from what she’d been doing. “You aren’t.”
“Do you have an old bowl or pot or something I can put some food in? There’s a stray dog out here that looks pretty hungry.”
Despite not being a “dog person,” Natalie didn’t like the thought of any creature suffering. “Hold on. I’ll find something.”
He was looking over his shoulder, presumably at the stray. “Okay, thanks. If you have any scraps or leftovers—”
“I’ll look.”
It took her only a couple of minutes to unearth an empty plastic margarine tub from one of the cabinets and fill it with water. She pulled a plate of leftover meat loaf from the fridge, nuked it just long enough to soften it, and carried both food and water to Casey. “Here. Give him this.”
Casey studied the meat loaf warily. “Are there onions in this? Because onions are really bad for dogs.”
“They’re bad for me, too,” she replied with a shake of her head. “They give me headaches. No onion in the meat loaf. Just meat, egg, ketchup, a little bell pepper and a little mustard.”
“Sounds safe enough in the absence of real dog food. Better than starving, anyway.”
Mildly curious, and needing a distraction from her frustration, she followed him outside to get a look at the stray he’d found. She didn’t bother to grab a jacket. The air was cool, but the thin red sweater she wore with her jeans was sufficient. If she happened to notice that Casey looked darned good in his own jeans from behind, she didn’t let herself dwell on the view. She forced herself to search for the dog instead.
It was a medium-sized mutt, probably a mottled brown and white after a bath, but mostly brown now. Its hair was matted, and Natalie could almost count its ribs. The dog didn’t run when Casey walked slowly toward it, but neither did it allow him to get too close, slinking backward as Casey neared. Casey stopped and set the food and water on the ground, then backed away without making any sudden moves.
“There you go, buddy. It’s all yours,” he said in a low, almost crooning voice. “We’re going to stay way back here and let you have all you want.”
The dog’s nose twitched as the aroma of the hastily warmed meat loaf reached it. Head lowered, wary eyes still fixed on the watching humans, it took a couple of tentative steps forward and sniffed the food. Moments later the plate was empty and the dog was noisily lapping up water to wash down its meal.
Watching sympathetically, Natalie asked, “Should we call animal control?”
She knew very well that the dog didn’t understand her, but the minute she’d finished speaking, it turned and ran into the woods, disappearing into the trees and undergrowth.
Casey looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t see any point now. By the time someone got here, that dog could be anywhere. At least he’s had a good meal today.”
“Was it a male?”
He shrugged again. “I have no idea.”
“Oh.” Hoping the dog would find another good meal soon, she gathered the empty plate and the half-empty bowl of water to take back inside. She turned to look at the ladder propped against the cabin and an open toolbox on the ground beside it. “How’s the work going today?”
Casey pushed a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’ve been cleaning the gutters, mostly. Hammered out a couple of dents to let the water flow better. I noticed some shingles that need to be replaced, but I’ll have to have help with that, since I’ve never done roofing. And I’ve still got to caulk and do some winterizing before the really cold weather sets in. Clean and waterproof the deck. And then Kyle and I are going to install the hot tub.”
“Hot tub?”
His lips twitched. “Yeah. It’s going onto the far end of the deck. Kyle said it seems like everyone wants a hot tub with their cabins these days. A lot of the cabins around here have pool tables and arcade-style video game rooms, but they want to keep this one a little more rustic.”
“Oh, I agree,” she said, glancing at the tidy little cabin that had offered her such welcome seclusion these past few days. She supposed a hot tub on the deck wouldn’t be so bad, for vacationers who liked to soak away tension while they relaxed, but the cabin really needed nothing more. There were hiking trails nearby, a rushing stream that passed right alongside the edge of the property, bird baths and feeders, a grill and picnic table, swings and rockers and chairs on the front porch and back deck for sitting and admiring the spectacular view. Who would want to play video games when they had all of nature for a playground?
Not that she’d taken full advantage of those pleasures while she’d been here. She’d been so obsessed with her problems. She would make a point to sit out on the deck that very day, she promised herself, even if it was with her computer.
“I guess I’d better get back to work,” Casey said, turning toward the house. “I’m going to start on the deck after I finish cleaning that last gutter. You weren’t planning to use the deck today, were you?”
Mentally revising the plans she had just made, she shook her head. “Not if you need to work on it.”
“Winter’s going to be here before we know it and the maintenance work is sort of behind because of the regular handyman’s accident. I told Kyle I’d get as much done as I can today while he works on one of the other rentals.”
“Of course. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Thanks for helping with the dog.”
She nodded and moved toward the house. An odd feeling hit her as she walked out of the sunny, pleasantly cool daylight and into the almost hauntingly empty cabin. It wasn’t exactly dark inside, since the cabin was well-lit and had plenty of windows to let in the sunlight and the mountain views. But it somehow felt dim and lonely to her as her eyes were drawn to the computer sitting on the coffee table, animated fish swimming lifelessly across the screen.
Setting