with clients. Dorie had enjoyed the work very much, and she’d kept handling the books for her clients long after her marriage to Corrigan Hart. But her growing family kept her too busy to continue with it. Ivy had been a gift from heaven, Dorie told her laughingly. Now she could leave her clients in good hands and retire with a clear conscience.
Dorie had some wonderful accounts. There was a boutique owner, a budding architect, the owner of a custom beef retail shop, an exercise gym and about a dozen other small businesses in Jacobsville. Ivy had met the businesspeople while she was in her last semester of college, when Dorie had approached her with the proposal. Dorie and Lita, who carpooled with Ivy, were friends. Lita had mentioned Ivy’s goals and Dorie had gone to see her at the boardinghouse. It had been an incredible stroke of good luck. Ivy had resigned herself to working in a C.P.A. firm. Now she was a businesswoman in her own right.
And as if her blessings hadn’t multiplied enough, she’d also volunteered to do the occasional article for the Jacobs County Cattlemen’s Association in what little free time she had. She would have done it as a favor to the Harts, since Corrigan was this year’s president, but they wouldn’t hear of it. She got a check for anything she produced. Like her math skills, her English skills were very good.
Merrie was nursing at a big hospital in San Antonio. The two spoke on the phone at least twice a month, but they stayed too busy for socializing. Ivy had never told her friend what had happened that last night she spent under Stuart’s roof. She never asked about Stuart, either. Merrie seemed to sense that something had gone wrong, but she didn’t pry. She didn’t talk about her brother, either.
Autumn turned the leaves on the poplars and maples beautiful shades of gold and scarlet. Ivy felt restless, as if something was about to change in her life. She did her job and tried not to think about Stuart York, but always in the back of her mind was the fear of something unseen and unheard. A premonition.
There was a party to benefit a local animal shelter, which Shelby Jacobs had organized. Ivy wouldn’t have gone, but Sheriff Hayes Carson was on the committee that had planned the party, and he was showing an increasing interest in Ivy.
She didn’t know if she liked it or not. She was fond of Hayes, but her heart didn’t do cartwheels when he was around. Maybe that was a good thing.
When he showed up at her boardinghouse late one Friday afternoon, she sat on the porch swing with him. Her room contained little more than a bed and a vanity, and she was uncomfortable taking a man there. Hayes seemed to know that, because he sat down in the swing with no hesitation at all.
“We’re having the benefit dance next Friday night,” he told her. “Go with me.”
She laughed nervously. “Hayes, I haven’t danced in years. I’m not sure I even remember how.”
His dark eyes twinkled. “I’ll teach you.”
She studied him with pursed lips. He really was a dish. He had thick blond hair that the sun had streaked, and a lean, serious face. His dark eyes were deep-set, heavy browed. His uniform emphasized his muscular physique. He was built like a rodeo rider, tall, with wide shoulders, narrow hips and long, powerful legs. Plenty of single women around Jacobsville had tried to land him. None had succeeded. He was the consummate bachelor. He seemed immune to women. Most of the time, he looked as if he had no sense of humor at all. He rarely smiled. But he could be charming when he wanted to, and he was turning on the charm now.
Ivy hadn’t been asked out in months, and the man who’d asked had a reputation that even Merrie knew about, and Merrie didn’t live at home anymore.
Having turned down the potential risk, Ivy kept to herself. Now Hayes was asking her to a dance. She walked around in jeans. She looked and acted like a tomboy. She frowned.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “All work and no play will run you crazy.”
“You ought to know,” she tossed back. “Didn’t you take your last vacation day four years ago?”
He chuckled deeply. “I guess so. I love my job.”
“We all noticed,” she said. “Between you and Cash Grier, drug dealers have left trails of fire behind them running for the border.”
“We’ve got a good conviction rate,” he had to admit. “What’s holding you back? Nursing a secret passion for someone hereabouts?”
She laughed. It was half true, but she wasn’t admitting it. “Not really,” she said. “But I’m not used to socializing. I didn’t even do it in college.”
He frowned. “I know why you don’t date, Ivy,” he said unexpectedly. “You can’t live in the past. And not every man is like your father.”
Her face closed up. Her hands clenched in her lap. She stared out at the horizon, trying not to let the memories eat at her consciousness. “My mother used to say that she thought he was a perfect gentleman before they married. They went together for a year before she married him. And then she discovered how brutal a man he really was. She was pregnant, and she had no place to go.”
He caught one of her small hands in his big one. “He was an outsider,” he reminded her. “He moved here from Nevada. Nobody knew much about him. But you know people in Jacobsville.” He pursed his lips. “I daresay you know all about me.”
That droll tone surprised her into laughing. “Well, yes, I do. Everybody does. The only brutal thing about you is your temper, and you don’t hit people unless they hit you first.”
“That’s right. So you’d be perfectly safe with me for one evening.”
She sighed. “You’re hard to refuse.”
“You’ll have fun. So will I. Come on,” he coaxed. “We’ll help add some kennel space to the animal shelter and give people something to gossip about.”
“It would be fun,” she came back. “You don’t date anybody locally.”
He shrugged. “I like my own company too much. Besides,” he said ruefully, “there’s Andy. He stunts my social life.”
She shivered. “I’m not going home with you,” she pointed out.
“I know. I haven’t found a single woman who will.” He sighed resignedly. “He’s really very tame. He’s a vegetarian. He won’t even eat a mouse.”
“It won’t work. Your scaly roommate is going to keep you single, just like Cag Hart’s did.”
“I’ve had him for six years,” he said. “He’s my only pet.”
“Good thing. He’d eat any other pet you brought home.”
He scowled. “He’s a vegetarian.”
“Are you sure? Have any dogs or cats disappeared on your place since you got him?” she teased.
He made a face at her. “It’s silly to be afraid of a vegetarian. It’s like being afraid of a cow!”
Her eyebrows arched. “Andy doesn’t look like any cow I ever saw,” she retorted. “His picture was on the front page of the paper when you took him to that third grade class to teach them about herpetology. I believe there was some talk about barring you from classrooms...?”
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