me about Tara Sullivan.”
“What about her?” Luke asked.
“She just seems like an unusual person. Easy on the eyes, but all business.”
“She is all business. And sometimes her bite is as bad as her bark.” Luke speared a giant chunk of iceberg lettuce, then picked up the steak knife and sawed it into edible pieces.
“Why do you work for her?”
“I like her.”
Matt glanced up. He’d sensed from the moment that Luke had sent him out to the place that this woman was important to him. He just didn’t know why. Luke continued to tackle his salad. “I know she can put people off, but she’s honest and…well…let’s just say she hasn’t had an easy time of it around here.”
“Not an easy time?”
“Nope.” The word was flat and final. “I worked for her aunt after I retired. Laura was too busy with too many things to maintain that old house, but she loved the outdoors. She designed the gardens, the pathways and such around the place, and I made them happen. After that, it seemed natural enough for me to maintain things. I’ve been doing it ever since.”
“You do a nice job.” The old house was surrounded by almost two acres of groomed landscaping. Near the house, the design fit in with the Victorian theme—an old gazebo, wooden archways, shade trees, grass and winding paths. Farther away, near the barn and shop, the landscaping melded into the surrounding meadows, which acted as pasture for the two donkeys Tara apparently kept as pets.
“Gives me something to do, and Tara needs a guy around now that Nicky, her brother, is away at college.”
Matt had a feeling that Tara could handle things quite well without a man around, but he kept his thoughts to himself. With no immediate family of his own, Luke had a tendency to adopt people. Like Matt. And apparently like this Sullivan woman, too.
The meals arrived and after Becky was done delivering the hot plates, Matt let the subject drop. He wasn’t that interested in Tara Sullivan. If Luke’s shoulder kept him out of commission, and it looked like it was going to from the stiff way the old man was moving, Matt’d have a few more weeks at the house, tops. Right up until the end of his leave.
How much did he need to know to hammer a few boards back into place?
Not much. In fact, he had a strong feeling that the less he knew, the less involved he got with anyone in this town, the better.
CHAPTER TWO
THE BOSS LADY was hot about something. Matt could see her pacing the porch as he turned his truck into her long gravel driveway. As soon as she heard his engine, she tossed her braid over her shoulder and stalked into the house. He could practically hear the door slam.
This should be fun, he thought as he pulled to a stop. He hadn’t slept much the night before and he wasn’t sure he was ready to face Tara in a snit. She reappeared almost immediately with a cell phone, scanning the horizon as she held it to her ear. The boss lady had cleaned up, and rather nicely, too. Instead of baggy jeans, she wore tan denims that did justice to her long legs and a scoop-necked blue shirt that hugged her breasts and flat abdomen. A chain with some kind of a pendant nestled in an interesting hint of cleavage. She looked…different.
She watched him get out of the truck, still holding the phone to her ear. It was fortunate, Matt thought, taking in her killer expression, that he had expertise dealing with people in all kinds of moods.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly as he came to the bottom step.
“Brothers.” She let out an aggravated breath as she lowered the phone, but Matt saw anxiety as well as irritation in her eyes.
“Anything I can do?”
She opened her mouth to answer, and then her expression changed. Matt followed her gaze and saw a plume of dust in the distance. When the vehicle came close enough to identify, Matt shifted his attention to Tara, watching as her face first softened with relief, then tightened again. This did not bode well for the troublesome brother.
Tara stalked down the steps and brushed past Matt as an older silver Dodge pickup pulled in between his truck and a Toyota Camry. A fair-haired kid in his late teens or very early twenties was at the wheel and Matt could tell that he knew he was in trouble.
“You said you’d be home last night,” Tara hissed at her brother, who tried a sheepish grin, then gave up. “I had assumed that meant before the sun came up!”
The brother got out of the truck. “I’m sorry, T. Josh and I got stuck up behind Bounty Peak.” He gestured at the muddy undercarriage of the Dodge. “My cell wouldn’t get service there.”
Tara sucked in a breath and let it out again. “Listen to me. In the future, you call. I don’t care if you have to hike to the top of Bounty Peak to get service, you call.” She pushed a piece of paper into her brother’s hand. “And I’m sure I don’t want to know why you were behind Bounty Peak in the first place. Here’s the list we talked about. Do what you can. I’ve gotta go.”
Matt had seen the same look on his mother’s face more than once during his own turbulent teens—fully justified fear, followed by relief, and then anger at being made to worry unnecessarily. He felt a little sorry for both Tara and the kid.
“I’m late for an appointment,” Tara explained abruptly. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. You’re pretty well lined out, aren’t you?”
Matt nodded and Tara gave her brother one more smoldering look before walking swiftly to the Toyota, muttering under her breath. Matt and the brother stood side by side as the car peeled out of the driveway and turned onto the county road.
“She yells at me when I do that.” The blond kid turned to Matt. “I’m Nicky Sullivan.”
“Matt Connors. You worried her,” Matt said as he shook the kid’s hand.
“Yeah. I guess I should have called when we got out of that mud hole,” he admitted, “but I figured I’d be home in an hour.” He tilted his head, his blue eyes narrowing. “And I think I’m old enough to stay out all night if I want to.”
“Probably not to her.”
“I guess,” the kid agreed. “Hey, you want some breakfast before you get started?”
Matt shook his head. “I had the special at the Owl.”
Nicky grimaced. “Sorry, man.”
Matt smiled in spite of himself. Dinners weren’t bad at the casino, but breakfast had proven to be an adventure. Eggs came in one form. Bouncy. Bacon bordered on scorched. The toast was usually okay, though, and that was what he’d ended up eating that morning after trying all the various components of the special.
“Come on, at least have some coffee. Tara makes great coffee.”
A thermal carafe sat on the counter of the obviously recently renovated kitchen and Nicky shook it. It sloshed reassuringly and he reached for two mugs.
“If I had been
