knows there’s a ninety-thousand-dollar Mercedes parked at The Hide-Away. Leave me the keys and I’ll pull the car around back, then take it home after dark and put it in my barn. I’ll see if my wife, Tammy, can take you shopping for something a little more...casual. We’ll tell people you’re a college friend of Caroline’s. Everyone loves Caroline Patterson...er...McCormack. She’s married now, right? She married that guy from Boston?”
Bree nodded, feeling stunned. “Yeah, they got married in Barbados. Look, why are you doing this? You don’t know me, and you don’t even like me.” She looked over her shoulder at Cole. His close proximity was making her nervous.
Cole arched an eyebrow at her. “Call it that ‘Southern charm’ you were looking for. We help people in trouble down here.” His mouth twitched again. She decided that was the closest thing to a real smile the guy had. “Even people we don’t like.”
COLE CALDWELL STOLE a sideways glance at the redhead as he drove out of Russell. She was pressed up against the passenger door, with Maggie curled up on the seat between them. While the dog generally rode with her nose pressed snugly against Cole’s leg, today she lay facing their guest. Her head rested on Bree’s thigh, and Bree was absently scratching Maggie’s ear.
Traitor.
Despite the ridiculous layers of makeup, Brianna Mathews could easily be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Pulling her hair up under the cap revealed her long, slender neck, fine-boned face and those deep green eyes. Her skin was like porcelain. She was tall, almost as tall as he was. And she moved with a natural grace that said she was confident and very aware of herself. The whole package was sexy as hell.
Too bad she was such a flaming, toxic viper.
The lady could peel paint off the wall with those angry eyes of hers. And her sharp tongue could probably flay a man alive. Cole shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable and surprisingly aroused by that thought. He sure as hell didn’t want anything to do with this woman or any other woman for that matter. And it seemed the feeling was mutual. He grunted to himself, earning him another one of her icy glares.
“What?” she snapped.
He shook his head in the closest he’d come to amusement in a long time. Baiting her temper was as easy as shooting very big fish in a very small barrel.
“Oh, nothin’. I’m just picturing you settling into Nell’s hundred-year-old bungalow. All by yourself. No Starbucks. No fancy parties to attend. No television cameras. Girl, you’ll die of loneliness out here.”
She turned to stare out the passenger window. Her voice was quiet.
“It’s better than dying in a pool of blood.”
Well, hell. She’d just managed to turn him into a complete jackass, hadn’t she? No, actually he didn’t need her help with that. He’d done it all on his own. After a year of feeling pretty much nothing but anger, he now felt guilty. He winced at the sharpness of it.
“Sorry.” There’s a word he hadn’t said in a while. “I wasn’t making light of your...”
“Situation? My very interesting situation?” She dropped her head back against the seat of his pickup then turned to look at him. “We don’t exactly bring out the best in each other, do we?”
He snorted. “Apparently not.”
Awkward silence filled the cab as he made a few more turns. The roads got progressively smaller and the fields got bigger. He slowed the truck as they approached a yellow farmhouse with a wide front porch. There was a wooden farmstand next to the road with a simple sign that read Nell’s Produce. He glanced over at the stand as he pulled into the gravel driveway. It looked like Nell had a good selection of tomatoes and blueberries today. He snuck another look at Bree and bit back a smile at her wide-eyed expression.
A faded red barn stood behind the house. Chicken and geese wandered the yard. The pigpen was off to the left, and he could see Nell’s big sow, Spot, sunning herself there with her piglets. Two old workhorses were standing in a small paddock to the right, head to rump, swishing their tails rhythmically to keep the flies away. In the fields behind the barn, his own beef cattle were grazing. He leased the pastures from Nell, and she kept an eye on the cows and calves for him. Nell’s huge garden stretched along the far side of the house. She grew enough vegetables to keep her stand well stocked. What she didn’t grow herself, she sold on consignment for area farmers. People drove for miles to buy from Miss Nell, because they knew she sold the best locally-grown produce. She served up her unique country wisdom, homemade sweet tea and amazing baked goods to her customers, most of whom she knew by name.
A rangy hound of indiscriminate origin trotted toward the truck, baying loudly, but his tail wagged in greeting. Cole stepped out and scratched the dog’s ears. Maggie sat up in the truck and watched alertly, staying silent.
“Hey, Shep, how are you, old boy?” He looked back at Bree, who seemed to be in some stage of shock in his truck. “Are you going to sit there all day?”
She looked down at the dog and hesitated.
“Don’t worry about Shep. He’s more welcoming committee than watchdog.”
Bree slid across the seat past Maggie and stepped down out of his side of the truck. The woman was acting as if she’d been dropped in the middle of a dangerous jungle instead of a quiet North Carolina farm. Her ironclad confidence slipped just a little, and her face paled. She was clearly out of her comfort zone here. He should have enjoyed it, but instead he was troubled to see her lose that cloak of brittle anger.
“Well, as I live and breathe!” a woman’s voice cried out from the front porch. “Colton Caldwell! What’s up, darlin’? You get thirsty for some of my sweet tea on this blistering day? I didn’t figure to see you till the end of the week. That miserable old cow of yours won’t be ready to drop her calf for a while yet.”
Nell Patterson’s face was weather-worn, and her hair was more gray than brown, but her slender body moved with the sure strength of someone who worked hard for a living and didn’t give a darn what anyone thought of her. She was wearing cotton shorts and a white blouse, with a bright yellow apron tied around her waist. It struck him as the tall, sturdy woman stepped off the porch that the way Nell carried herself was very similar to Bree’s. Two strong, but very different, women. They’d either kill each other or be friends forever. Nell spotted Bree at his side, and her brown eyes went wide with surprise.
“And you brought company! And isn’t she a pretty thing? Introduce me to your girl, Colton.”
He gave her a crooked smile and shook his head. “She ain’t my girl, Nell. She’s yours. This is your new tenant, Bree Mathews.”
He watched with grudging respect as Bree stifled whatever terror she was feeling about the farm. She painted on a bright smile and stepped forward to extend her hand to Nell. “It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Patterson. We didn’t have much opportunity to talk at Caroline’s wedding, but she’s told me wonderful things about you. I appreciate you letting me use your cottage under the circumstances...” Her formal words and tone were swallowed in a bear hug from Nell.
“Oh, I remember you! You planned their wedding reception, didn’t you? Caroline called me this morning and told me why you’re here. Don’t you worry, honey. We’ll keep you safe.”
