Page 7

Then he climbed behind the steering wheel and roared off toward home. Instead of parking in his garage, he drove down the gravel lane leading to the staff quarters and braked in front of Ashley’s cabin. He popped his horn a few times to alert her about his arrival.

Her front door opened as he was jogging up the porch steps.

“Johnny?” Her eyes widened with concern. “Is everything okay?”

She was wearing a pair of black running pants and an oversized blue-green sweatshirt that was sliding down one shoulder — her injured shoulder that he was suddenly dying to get a closer look at. Her feet were bare, and her auburn hair was twisted up in a messy bun. Though her baggy outfit was a far cry from the sophisticated dress Caro had worn to the dance, he found himself drinking her in like a man dying from thirst.

“That bad, huh?” Ashley pushed the door wider and waved him inside.

He gave himself a mental kick for staring and forced himself to answer her question. “I’m not sure. You tell me.”

She gave a huff of disbelief. “How about you give me a hint at whatever burr you have under your saddle, boss man, and we’ll take it from there?”

He swallowed a chuckle. “Quit calling me that!”

“Yes, sir!” She gave him a mocking salute.

“You’re awful,” he grumbled, stopping and standing still to absorb the peace and quiet of the cabin. This was so much better than listening to a hundred people talking at the same time beneath the blinding strobe of disco lights.

She shut the door with a bang. “Your awful employee politely inquires if you’d like something to drink. I have water and more water. Tap water, to be more precise, with an imaginary lemon wedge perched on the rim of your glass.”

She was a hoot. He suddenly longed to sample her mouthiness with a kiss, making his answer come out gruffer than he intended. “Water’s fine.” He caught sight of Can Opener lounging on one corner of the leather sofa. “I don’t recall being informed of sub-leasing your cabin to another tenant.”

“Because I didn’t. He’s a freeloader.” She snickered beneath her breath as she padded to the sink and filled a glass of water for him. Apparently, she hadn’t been kidding about serving tap water.

Fortunately, the farm was on a well, so there was no nasty county water on tap in his cabins.

Ashley met him in the living room with the glass outstretched to him. “I’d offer refreshments, but I haven’t gotten around to making a grocery run yet.”

“I’ve already eaten. Thanks.” He hadn’t barged in on her to become yet another freeloader. He had questions that needed answers — the kind of answers only she could give.

As he accepted the water glass, her stomach gave a noisy growl.

Since it was well past the dinner hour, he frowned at her. “When was the last time you ate?”

She shrugged, not quite meeting his eye. “I’ve been doing some intermittent fasting.” She gestured at herself. “Trust me. It’s not easy pulling off the baggy sweatshirt look.” Though her voice was teasing, her stomach growled again.

He gave her an appreciative sideways glance, trying not to stare. It was hard. From her messy bun to the oversized shirt slipping down her creamy shoulder, he found the whole package appealing. “You’d look fine no matter what you’re wearing.” He didn’t see her reaction to his words, because he’d just caught sight of the water bowl she’d put out for Can Opener a week ago. There was still no food bowl sitting beside it.

Something heavy settled in his chest. “I’ll ask you again.” He pierced her with a look that dared her to tell him anything but the truth. “When was the last time you ate, Ash?”

She plopped down on the sofa beside Can Opener. “Yesterday morning.” She plunged a hand into the cat’s thick fur. “Why do you care?”

His brain pounced on that detail. “Isn’t that when Clint brought donuts back from his trip to town?”

She refused to meet his gaze. “Maybe.”

He stalked to the kitchenette and yanked open the refrigerator door. It was empty. “Ashley!” His voice came out strangled with agony. “What’s going on?”

“Long story,” she mumbled.

“Give me the short version,” he barked, letting the door of the fridge slam shut.

“I, um…” Her voice grew shaky. She cleared her throat and began again. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Johnny.”

“Then tell me,” he coaxed in a gentler voice.

“The night I was shot,” she intoned softly, “my partner was shot, too.”

Here it comes. Though his heart wrenched in sympathy, he braced himself for whatever else she was about to lay on him.

“He didn’t make it.” Her features crumpled. “He left behind a wife and a kid that I’ve been trying to help.”

His heart grew heavier. “By sending money to them, huh?”

“Every month.” She gave a damp sniffle. “Due to a bank error, they sent the amount twice this month and overdrew my account. I’ve been on the phone with the bank, trying to sort it out.” She gave him an apologetic look. “After business hours, of course, and during my lunch break.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Ash!” As if he was worried about that! He abruptly set the glass of water on the mantle. “You should’ve told me you needed money.”

“I don’t.” She drew back in defense. “I have a savings account. I just promised myself I wouldn’t touch it unless it was an emergency.”

“Since when does starvation not count as an emergency?” He hated the fact that they were arguing, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her not having any food in the cabin. She was going hungry in his cabin on his property, which made him feel oddly responsible.

“I’m fine.” She lifted her chin.

“No, you’re not.” He stalked toward the door. “I’ll be back in a few.” He raised another cloud of dust in the gravel outside her cabin as he gunned it back to the farmhouse. They were forever catering food in at work and sending him home with leftovers. Rummaging through his fridge, he quickly located half of a subway sandwich and a bowl of fruit salad. It wasn’t much, but it would provide Ashley with sustenance until he could get some groceries delivered to her cabin. He scavenged a box of crackers and an unopened bag of dry pinto beans from his pantry before heading back to his truck.

Ashley opened the door to the cabin before he could knock. “Gimme!” She all but yanked the sandwich from his hands, ripping the paper open and stuffing it in her mouth.

He chuckled even though it made him sad to watch her. “I’ll get these beans soaking in a pot.”

She laughed with food in her mouth and somehow managed to make it sound adorable. She chewed and swallowed before exploding, “That’s enough beans to feed an army!”

“Can Opener will help.” Johnny moved into the kitchenette and pulled out a saucepan. As promised, he soon had the entire bag of beans soaking.

Returning to the living room he whipped out his wallet and stood over her perch on the sofa. “I’m giving you an advance on your first paycheck.”

“I’m not a charity case!” The look she gave him would’ve easily peeled the new paint off his farmhouse.

“Never said you were.” He thumbed a wad of twenty-dollar bills and dropped them into her lap.

“What are you? A walking bank?” she spluttered. However, she didn’t hesitate to stuff the money into the pocket of her running pants.

“I don’t normally have this much cash on me.” He jutted his chin at her. “Lucky for you, I paid a visit to the ATM today.”

“You’re right. I’m very fortunate. I don’t know why I’m being so cranky about it. Thanks.” Her voice grew muffled as she took another bite of the sandwich. “Thanks for everything.”

To his amazement, she saved the last bite for Can Opener. The enormous cat chewed with his mouth open and yawned in her face afterward.

Johnny curled his lip at the creature. “Boy, you really have a way with the ladies!”

Can Opener flicked his tail, purring as loudly as an incoming train. Then he dropped his head in Ashley’s lap. She tore the lid off the fruit salad next and dove in.

For no particular reason, Johnny’s gaze dropped to her toes which were painted the same color as her sweatshirt. Not all the way blue or all the way green. He was pretty sure he remembered his late wife calling it teal.

“How was the party?” Ashley used the plastic fork he’d brought her to spear a fat red grape.

“Not short enough.” He dragged his gaze over her and found her studying him through half-lowered eyelashes. “I claimed Brie was having a medical emergency so I could make my escape.”

Her eyes widened. “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” She popped the grape into her mouth.

Not even! As far as he was concerned, little Brie was a walking emergency. “Got some other bad news before I took off.”

“I’m sorry.” Ashley mulled over that for a moment. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“It is.” He scowled at her. “Are you leaving me, Ash?”

She blinked at him, making him realize how he’d made it sound.

“I’m talking about the farm,” he clarified hastily. “Are you quitting?”

“What?” She glared at him, setting the bowl of fruit salad on the end table beside her. “Do you really think I’d pocket a couple hundred dollars from you and dash?”

Relief coursed through him. “Rumor has it that you may be embroiled in a lawsuit.” He gestured awkwardly. “Back in Dallas.”

Her face grew so white that he lunged for his water glass on the mantle. Moving with it to the sofa, he crouched in front of her and held it to her lips. “Drink.”

She drank, coughed, and drank some more. Then she shoved the glass back into his hands. “I’m not being sued. I don’t know who started the rumor or why, but it’s not true. Unlike my partner, my name was cleared pretty quickly after I was shot. He wasn’t so fortunate. But he’s no more of a dirty cop than I was, and I intend to prove it!” She grew so vehement that she looked like a different person.

Johnny’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

The steel in her expression abruptly disappeared. “Or so a girl can dream,” she mumbled.

He didn’t believe for a second that what she’d just declared was nothing more than a pipe dream. His gut had been telling him that Ashley Perkins was up to something in Heart Lake. He still didn’t know the details, but he was betting it had something to do with clearing her partner’s name.

“Isn’t your ex an attorney?” He watched her closely.

Her gaze locked with his. “I never told you that.”

“Nope. You didn’t.” She might’ve resigned from the force, but his new farm hand still possessed the heart and mind of a detective. In a burst of inspiration, he drawled, “For now, we’ll call it an anonymous tip.”

Something flickered in her gaze, something edged with alarm.

Gotcha! His suspicion was confirmed. Ashley must have called in the anonymous tip about Caro Madison to the Heart Lake Police Department. But why? What did she have against Caro? And what did her beef with Caro have to do with her dead partner, if anything?

Silence settled between them. It was broken only by Can Opener’s steady purring.

Johnny reached across Ashley to stroke the top of his furry head.

Can Opener purred louder and stretched across her lap to push his head more firmly against Johnny’s hand.

Despite the trouble brewing outside the cabin, it was a cozy, restful moment. She even had a fire flickering in the fireplace. “Looks like you found that stack of wood out back.”

“I did.” She gave him an anxious look. “I hope it’s okay that I helped myself to it?”

He waved away her concerns. “If you need anything else, and I mean anything, Ash — financial, legal, or otherwise…” He left the possibilities dangling in the air between them.

“I’m okay,” she assured. “Really. If anyone had a case against me, they would’ve filed it by now. My partner and I were close friends. His wife and I still are. I’m the godparent of their son.”

He hoped she was right about no one having a case against her. It was insane the kind of stuff that could slither into a civil court these days. On the upside, it didn’t sound like her partner’s widow would be inclined to testify against her. That was a big point in her column.

“You’d better be okay.” He winked at her. “Because I’m way too busy to hold interviews for a new farm hand.”

She made a face at him. “I’ll try not to inconvenience you, boss.”

He let that slide. “For best results, you’ll need to soak those pinto beans overnight. I’ll bring some spices in the morning to throw in.”

“Can Opener and I are in your debt.” She gave him a cheeky smile.

He shook his head at her. “You don’t need to keep feeding him. His food bowl in the barn never runs out.”

“But he’s a hungry boy!” She thrust both hands into the cat’s furry sides, giving him a rub-a-dub-dub-dub that notched up the decibel level of his purring again. “Just look at him! How could you say no to that face?”

“Easily.” Johnny chuckled. “Watch me.” He bent his head closer to Can Opener. “No.”

Can Opener reached out and swatted his forehead. It was a playful swat, since his claws were retracted.

“Why, you little?—”

He dove for the cat, and a wrestling match ensued, one that was punctuated by laughter on both his and Ashley’s part.

At one point, Johnny’s forehead bumped against her wrist, but it didn’t feel like he was invading her space or overstepping anything. It just felt right. Exactly right.

It wasn’t until a fist pounded on the front door that he straightened. “You expecting company?”

“No.” She eyed the door cautiously as she patted her stomach. “Though I’m really glad you stopped by.”

“Me, too.” He stood, preparing to leave so she could enjoy her visit with whoever was knocking.

She walked with him to the door. “I honestly can’t imagine who would be stopping by this time of day. I only know a few people in town.” She pulled the door open a few inches and froze. “Martin?” There was a hollow quality to her voice that set Johnny on edge.

The man standing on the porch looked like a thundercloud in a pinstriped navy suit — a very tall, very slender thundercloud with carelessly tousled hair that had been sprayed in place and a pinky ring that made Johnny want to punch something. He knew without asking that he was staring at her ex-fiancé. He also instinctively knew that the guy was an idiot despite his law degree. Anyone foolish enough to let a woman like Ashley go was out of his mind.

“Am I interrupting something?” Martin’s golden gaze glittered angrily as he sized Johnny up and down.

“Yep.” Johnny couldn’t resist baiting him.

“No,” Ashley said at the same time. “Well, sort of,” she amended wryly. “This is my new employer, Johnny Cuba. Johnny, this is an attorney I knew back in Dallas. Martin Hobbs.”

“Just somebody you knew, eh?” Without waiting for her answer, he informed Johnny coldly, “I’m her fiancé.”

“Ex-fiancé,” Ashley corrected in a testy voice. “What do you want, Martin?”

“Number one.” He held up one long, skinny finger. “To surprise you for Valentine’s Day.” There were no flowers in his hands. No gifts whatsoever. Was the guy cocky enough to think his presence was the gift? “Number two.” He held up a second bony finger. “To clear up our little misunderstanding. May I come in?”

“No.” She stomped back into the cabin and returned with her feet shoved into a pair of slippers. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say outside.” She stepped onto the porch, hugging her arms around her middle.

“It’s cold outside,” Martin grumbled, taking a step back.

“That’s alright.” She lifted her chin. “You won’t be staying long.”

The tension hanging in the air was so thick that Johnny was reluctant to leave her alone with him. “I’ll be in my truck.” He lightly touched her shoulder before stepping around Martin. He didn’t bother engaging in small talk or saying goodbye. He’d taken no pleasure in meeting him, and the two of them would never be friends.

He could feel the guy glaring at his shoulder blades as he jogged down the porch steps. He could still feel his glare after he climbed into his truck. He sat there, waiting and watching their heated discussion from the corner of his eye.

A dark Bentley Continental was pulled nose-to-nose with his work truck. Could Martin Loser Hobbs have driven anything more ostentatious? The car had probably set him back a quarter of a million bucks or more. It was easily worth hundreds of dairy cows.

Moments later, the irate attorney slammed into his car and roared off, spraying the front of Johnny’s truck with gravel. Though his work truck had plenty of rust and scratches, Martin’s behavior was uncalled for.

Ashley hurried down the porch steps, motioning for him to roll down his window.

He complied, and she immediately started apologizing. He held up a hand to stop her. “One question. Are you okay?”

She paused in mid-sentence, her lovely lips rounding in an O of surprise. “I’m getting there.” She sounded flustered.

He hoped his presence had something to do with that. “Put my number on speed dial, you hear? If you need anything, I’m only a hop, skip, and a jump down the road.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n!” She snapped out a sharp salute.

He glowered playfully at her. “I mean it.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft. She lowered her hand to her side and shivered.

“Good.” He angled his head at the cabin. “Now go thaw out and get some rest. We gotta dairy farm to run in the morning.”

The fact that she was smiling when he drove off brought a smile to his own lips. He was still smiling when he made it back to the house. And when he fell into bed. Being Ashley’s un-Valentine had turned out to be so much more fun than being Caro’s plus one.

He liked having her around. He liked it a lot. If Martin thought he could just march in here uninvited and make waves for her, he was in for a rude awakening.

Johnny’s Dairy was going to be Ashley’s safe place, even if Johnny had to install a security gate to keep rodents like Martin out. He’d call a fence company first thing in the morning.