Читать книгу Fit To Be Tied - Carol Finch - Страница 11

“GOOD MORNING, boss,” Teresa Harper greeted enthusiastically as Jessica walked into her office in Buzzard’s Grove.

“Morning.” Jessica set her briefcase on her desk and smiled at her red-haired secretary. Jessica still had trouble believing Teresa was the same desperate, withdrawn woman who had scurried into the office three months ago, begging for a job, vowing to do whatever necessary to earn money.

Teresa had lacked spirit and self-esteem and could barely make eye contact without ducking her head and wringing her hands. The poor, distraught woman had burst into tears and spilled her hard-luck story—in between sobs and shuddering gulps. Teresa had escaped an abusive husband, filed for divorce and moved to Buzzard’s Grove to put distance between her ex and herself.

The woman desperately needed to make a new start, and Jessica felt compelled to help, because she knew what it was like to be alone and frightened and unsure where the next meal would come from, unsure if she was wanted or accepted. Jessica had hired the woman on the spot, though Teresa lacked certain secretarial skills.

Determined to see that Teresa had a new life, a positive self-image, Jessica had located an efficiency apartment in town, paid the deposit from her own pocket, offered Teresa a few garments from her own wardrobe and won an instant and devoted friend and employee.

To repay the kindness, Teresa had worked extra hours at the office to hone her skills and made every effort to be courteous and professional while dealing with clients. Once Teresa familiarized herself with business procedures, she fielded calls so Jessica could immerse herself in tallying and balancing accounts. Being the only certified accountant in town brought Jessica more business than she wanted—which was why she was so slow in making repairs around her grand old farm home.

“Whew, yesterday was a killer, wasn’t it?” Teresa remarked as she handed Jessica a cup of steaming coffee and a homemade cinnamon roll. “I almost lost my cool when that grumpy old coot barreled in here to chew you up one side and down the other because you wouldn’t fudge on his income tax form. For a minute there, I had flashbacks of dealing with my ex. If you hadn’t come charging forward to take on Edgar Stokes I would have been cowering in the corner, reduced to tears.” Teresa smiled. “I truly admire the way you stand up to men and refuse to let them intimidate you. If I keep watching those self-help videos you gave me, maybe I’ll be a force to be reckoned with, too.”

Jessica bit into the warm cinnamon roll. Her taste buds went into full-scale riot. Not only was Teresa turning into a dream employee, but she really could cook. She brought deli sandwiches for lunch, coffee cakes for breakfast, and Jessica’s mouth watered like Pavlov’s dogs at first sniff.

“Thanks for the compliment, Teresa. I’ve had lots of practice holding my own against the pushy men of the world. Edgar Stokes was just a warm-up for the annoying character who showed up on my doorstep when I got home last night.”

Alarm registered in Teresa’s wide hazel eyes. “Oh, my gosh! The man didn’t try to assault you, did he? Do I need to notify Sheriff Osborn? Can you identify your assailant?”

“Yes, he is my nearest neighbor, who stopped by to voice his displeasure with my exotic animals. No need to call the sheriff.”

“He didn’t like your animals?” Teresa harrumphed as she walked around her desk to grab her cup of coffee. “I hope you let him have it—in spades.”

“We pretty much let each other have it—in spades,” Jessica reported, then took another bite of the delicious roll. “The cowboy with the attitude claimed my exotics were disturbing his livestock and he demanded that I pay him for the time and money required to round up his cattle and repair his fences.”

“Who is this character?” Teresa questioned curiously.

“Devlin Callahan.”

“Never heard of him, but then, I’ve only been in town a few months. The man obviously isn’t one of your clients, otherwise I’d recognize his name from your files.”

That much was true, Jessica mused as she polished off the cinnamon roll, then reached for another. Teresa made it a point to familiarize herself with every client on file. Devlin Callahan was not, and never would be, on file. Jessica would refuse to handle Rocking C Ranch accounts, even if Devil Devlin asked her nicely—and she seriously doubted he was capable of that. The less she had to deal with Callahan the better she’d like it.

“Oh, look! There’s that nice Sheriff Osborn now,” Teresa said. She pointed a red-tipped finger toward the window. “He’s in the parking lot at Good Grub Diner. Want me to hustle over there and register a complaint for you? I wouldn’t mind a bit, you know.”

Jessica pivoted, her mouth wrapped around the scrumptious cinnamon roll, then choked for breath. Devlin Callahan stepped from his four-wheel-drive, fire-engine-red pickup truck and approached the sheriff. No doubt that black-eyed monster was following up her suggestion of taking complaints to the sheriff. Jessica couldn’t say she was surprised to see Callahan bending the sheriff’s ear. He certainly had bent hers during their shouting match last night, and she had let that arrogant cowboy have it with both barrels blazing.

Unwillingly, Jessica’s assessing gaze drifted over Devlin’s striking profile. The man was just too darn good-looking, she mused. If life was fair and just, Devlin’s appearance would be as offensive as his personality. Jessica couldn’t say exactly why she had reacted so unfavorably to Callahan at first glance. There was something about him that brought her feminine defenses to code-red alert. She supposed she found herself unwillingly attracted to the big galoot and went to extremes to offend and repel him.

Okay, so maybe she had gone overboard in an attempt to prove to him, and to herself, that she didn’t like the looks of him. After her fiasco with Rex the ex she resolved never to be taken in by a handsome face and magnificent male body. Rex, as it turned out, had all the emotional depth of a bar of soap. She suspected Devlin was the shining example of same-song-second-verse.

It didn’t help the situation one iota when she suffered a knee-jerk reaction to Devlin’s explosive temper. He irritated her, so naturally, she made a supreme effort to return the favor.

“Wow, who is that guy talking to the sheriff?” Teresa asked, her nose pressed to the windowpane. “He looks like a movie star or something. Is he handsome or what, boss?”

“That’s Callahan,” Jessica reported. “Don’t be fooled by his good looks. He can be a fire-breathing dragon when the mood strikes. He’s probably tattling to the sheriff as we speak, trying to convince Osborn to pressure me into relocating my exotic animals, because God-Almighty Callahan doesn’t want me infringing on his cattle kingdom.”

DEVLIN WAS INDEED airing his grievances to Sheriff Osborn at that very moment—for all the good it did him, just as Jessica prophesied.

“I realize you’re tired and cranky, since you were up before five this morning chasing down your scattered cattle,” Sheriff Reed Osborn commiserated. “But Miss Porter’s land is zoned for a refuge and she has a license issued by the National Coordinator of the Association of Sanctuaries. The association deals with about twenty accredited sanctuaries nationwide. Porter’s sanctuary is very reputable, and the association placed two large cats in her care a couple of months ago.”

“Two jungle cats?” Devlin hooted. “As in lions and tigers? No wonder my livestock bolts and runs! Criminey, Reed, I have wheat to plant for forage. Derrick and I need to service our tractors and machinery, not spend valuable time thundering across pastures and through ditches in an attempt to retrieve runaway cattle and sheep. This has got to stop! I’m getting no rest whatsoever, and repair bills for new barbed wire and steel fence posts are mounting up.”

Reed shrugged and sighed. “I hear ya, Dev, don’t think I don’t. But there really isn’t much I can do about the situation. None of the exotics have escaped to terrorize the countryside or put humans or livestock at direct risk. Why don’t you move your cattle to another pasture and put more distance between them and the exotics?”

“You expect me to sacrifice eighty acres of much-needed summer grass when I have hungry cattle? Sure, I can change the pasture rotation next year, but if I move those cattle to another pasture that has been grubbed to the ground because of the drought, Derrick and I will have to pay the extra expense of feeding cattle cubes. And another thing,” Dev added hastily, “that woman dammed up the stream when she built her pond at the first of the summer. Her exotics are frolicking in the pond while my livestock are going thirsty. I’ve been transporting water to them for over a month. Porter shouldn’t be allowed to block the water supply like that.”

Reed Osborn nodded his sandy blond head. “You’ve got her there, Dev. I don’t think the Association of Sanctuaries would support her on that one. Want me to talk to her about reopening the water flow to your pasture?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” Devlin replied in supreme satisfaction. “I’d rather not talk to that woman again if I don’t have to. I swear she’s placed some kind of curse on me. We haven’t had many decent rains since she moved in six months ago and dammed up the creek. The pasture grass is fizzling out, and fence repairs are cutting into profit. When she moved in things started going wrong.”

Reed chuckled in amusement. “You’re holding her personally responsible for this two-month drought and record-setting heat wave?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if she had something to do with it,” Devlin said, then snorted. “I’d call her a witch, but she would probably sue me for slander, then take over the Rocking C and turn the whole blessed ranch into a sanctuary for killer cats, mauling bears and only God knows what else.”

“Jessica Porter a witch?” Reed’s eyebrows shot up like exclamation marks. “Are we talking about the same sweet, charming woman? The Jessica I know is a model citizen. You wouldn’t believe all the charities and organizations she’s donated money to since her arrival. She contributes to anything that benefits youth groups and underprivileged children in our community.”

Devlin blinked, stunned by the glowing accolades heaped on the dragon lady. “Sweet and charming?” His arm shot out to indicate the building across the street from Good Grub Diner. “Are we talking about the Jessica Porter whose office is right over there? The woman who has the sharpest tongue in the county, even though she’s built like Miss September?”

Reed burst out laughing at the shocked expression on Devlin’s face. “Yup, that’s her. She also hired a woman who was on the run from an abusive ex-husband. Jessica marched herself over to my office to request a restraining order, in case the jerk showed up to terrorize Teresa. You should see the positive changes Teresa has undergone since Jessica took her under her wing.”

“Yeah? Turned the poor woman into a witch?” Devlin asked sarcastically.

“Hell, no!” Reed countered. “I tell you the woman is a saint. Why, Jessica even went so far as to pay Teresa’s deposit and first month’s rent, outfit her with stylish clothes and buy some secondhand furniture at the sheriff’s sale to furnish the apartment.”

Devlin blinked like a traffic caution light. Reed thought the dragon lady was a saint? Maybe it was Devlin who brought out the worst in Miss Model Citizen of the Year. From all indications, Porter only had a problem getting along with her nearest neighbor—him.

“I suggest you and the rest of the Jessica Porter fan club camp out at Rocking C and see how you like it,” Devlin grumbled. “After one night of listening to the zoo orchestra serenade you and rounding up frightened cattle, I guarantee that you’ll change your tune. That woman and her zoo are a nuisance that is testing the limits of my temper.”

“I’ll talk to Jessica about unleashing the water, but I’m telling you flat-out, Dev, you and Jess are going to have to come to some kind of reconciliation and understanding. That’s an order.” He stared meaningfully at Devlin. “I’ve got enough situations to resolve around here without dealing with feuding neighbors. Use a little of that Callahan charm instead of that short-fused temper.”

Devlin gnashed his teeth until he practically wore off the enamel. This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that he had been instructed to rely on his charm—what there was left of it after his embarrassing heartbreak seven years earlier. He wasn’t sure he had ever possessed enough charm and patience to deal with the dragon lady.

“I mean it, Dev.” The sheriff put on his cop face and stared at Devlin. “You be especially nice to that woman, hear me? She’s done lots of good deeds here in Buzzard’s Grove. Everybody around here respects her. It wouldn’t be good for her professional reputation, or yours, if you both decided to square off at twenty paces for a showdown. I’d have to toss you both in the slammer for disturbing the peace—”

“What about the fact that her zoo is disturbing my peace?” Devlin broke in indignantly.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Dev, we’ve had sightings of bobcats and mountain lions over the years. We have packs of coyotes running around all over the place. Jessica’s animals are penned up and cause less threat. What are you gonna do? Try to sue the Association of Sanctuaries? Of course not. It’d be a waste of time. Now make an effort to mend your fences.”

“I’ve done enough of that already,” Devlin said sourly.

“That was a figure of speech,” the sheriff remarked, then flashed a smile. “Just because you got your heart broke a few years back doesn’t mean you should take out your frustration on every woman you encounter, especially not Miss Porter.”

Exasperated, Devlin threw up his hands. “Is my personal life front-page news around here? Hell, it’s like living in a fishbowl!”

Reed Osborn shrugged nonchalantly. “Typical small town stuff. Besides, you and your brother have always been the subject of gossip. You’re good-looking, successful and eligible. Deal with it, Callahan. I wish I had your problems.”

Devlin spun toward his truck. “Just talk to Porter about her blasted pond,” he ordered.

“Okay, but polish up your smile and spray on a coat of charm,” the sheriff demanded. “Work out your differences with Jessica, or you’ll both answer to me. Got it?”

Oh, he had it, all right—a pain in the lower region of his anatomy that went by the name of Jessica Porter.

Swearing under his breath, Devlin piled into his pickup and aimed himself toward the ranch. He glanced over his shoulder toward the bed of the truck, which was heaped with new steel fence posts and rolls of shiny barbed wire. Damn, if only he could figure out a way to drown those alarming noises he wouldn’t be building new stretches of fence….

An idea hatched in his head and Devlin smiled for the first time all day—one that began before five o’clock, thanks to the racket at Porter’s zoo. Devlin made a U-turn and went to the farm supply store to purchase extension cords. Maybe piped music would muffle the howls, growls and screeches.

Grinning devilishly, Devlin made the extra purchases, then headed toward home. He’d see how Porter liked listening to blaring music all night. She might have grown accustomed to being serenaded by her zoo, but lively, fast-tempo honky-tonk music would bring her straight out of bed. Once she got a taste of her own medicine, she’d know how Devlin reacted to those roars and shrieks.

JESSICA WIPED the sweat from her brow and surveyed the trench she’d dug in the pond dam. Thanks to her cantankerous, tattletale neighbor, the sheriff insisted she allow water to flow from her pond to the stream that meandered across Devlin’s pasture. Jessica was ashamed to say it hadn’t occurred to her that she had unintentionally stifled Devlin’s water supply and he’d been forced to haul water. That was inconsiderate and unneighborly of her.

Maybe she had been entirely too hard on the man, she thought as she shoveled more dirt. It wasn’t Devlin’s fault that his good looks and muscular physique reminded her of her ex-fiancé and that she had transferred her frustration to the cowboy.

That was not the mature approach, she told herself. How many times had Jessica advised Teresa not to compare her abusive ex-husband to the men she met in Buzzard’s Grove? More times than she cared to count, Jessica realized. Teresa had begun to put her painful past behind her and had developed a crush on Sheriff Osborn. Teresa was getting on with her life. Eight months after her humiliating relationship with Rex, Jessica was still afraid to trust a man.

“You aren’t being fair,” Jessica said to herself.

Mother Goose honked as if in agreement, then fluttered into the pond to take an evening swim.

While water trickled through the V Jessica dug in the dam, she carted rocks up the steep incline to insure future rains didn’t erode her waterway and empty her pond. Smiling, Jessica watched the pair of coyotes and their pups, the red foxes and a trio of horses drink from the pond. It was gratifying to see that the animals had learned to coexist in this sanctuary.

So why couldn’t she get along with Devlin Callahan?

Recalling the sheriff’s request to resolve her differences with Devlin, Jessica vowed to make an effort to be civil.

While she made her rounds to feed the exotics housed in covered pens and cages, she reminded herself that she needed to mow and clean up around the sanctuary this weekend. The local grade school students would be arriving for their field trip. Since Jessica’s sanctuary was listed on the association’s register, she had received several calls to schedule field trips. The money would help to defray costs for more pens and feed. Her exotic family would continue to grow as long as she had space.

Weary from digging the trench in the parched earth, Jessica trudged to the house to bathe. Partially revived, she opened the freezer to select a microwave dinner.

She had considered swinging by the new restaurant at the end of Main Street to pick up a carry-out meal, but she had been late getting away from the office, and she had to feed her animals before dark.

Ah well, Jessica didn’t consider herself Suzie Homemaker, and she wasn’t one of those people who lived to eat; she simply ate to live. But every once in a while she craved a thick, juicy steak, home-cooked vegetables and dessert. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook, it was just that she didn’t have much time, what with getting her business off the ground, tending the exotics and doing minor refurbishing projects inside the house.

A faint smile twitched her lips as she recalled her shaky start in life, her difficult teens and her struggle to acquire a college education. The kid no one wanted—least of all her irresponsible, pleasure-seeking parents—had made something of herself. In fact, she could be living off the interest on the money she made when she sold the hot property in Tulsa. But Jessica didn’t want to be a recluse on her sanctuary. She secretly longed to fit in, to feel a connection, to be accepted and respected in Buzzard’s Grove.

So far so good—except for her feud with Devlin Callahan. He was the thorn in her paw, and Sheriff Osborn had all but ordered her to make nice to that hot-tempered rancher.

Okay, fine, she would apologize for biting off Devlin’s head and insulting him. She could be nice to the man if she really tried. She could also move the big cats’ and bears’ cages farther west to the clump of cottonwood trees, so the overhanging limbs would trap the sounds. Yeah, she could do that this weekend, if she put in double days. The pens were built on skids so she could hook a chain to her car bumper and pull them to different locations.

Jessica sighed drowsily as she lay sprawled on the sofa. Man, it had been a long week, and it wasn’t over yet. She could use some shut-eye so she would have the energy to tackle the list of weekend chores.

She nodded off, only to bolt straight up on the sofa when blaring country music rattled the window-panes. Garth Brooks was singing “Ain’t Goin’ Down Till the Sun Comes Up,” and the coyotes and wolves were howling to beat the band.

“What in blue blazes?” Jessica staggered to her feet and wobbled unsteadily to the window. Darkness had settled over the rolling Oklahoma hills. She could barely make out the glow of miniature red lights just beyond the barbed wire fence that separated her property from Rocking C Ranch.

It only took a moment to realize Devlin had rigged up his stereo system to counter the sounds of her exotic animals. Swearing, Jessica made a beeline for the back door to determine how her animals were reacting to the earsplitting music. Sure enough, the animals were pacing in their cages. Toucans and cockatoos were flinging themselves against the wire pens in an attempt to escape. The horses were thundering across the pasture to seek refuge in the trees.

Muttering, Jessica snatched up the phone book, then quickly dialed the number for Rocking C Ranch. Impatiently, she waited for Devil Devlin to answer.

“Hello,” came a thick, velvety voice that oozed sensuality. Jessica refused to be affected by that seductive voice, because she knew what a jackass the man was.

“Devlin Callahan, I—”

“Hold on a sec.”

A moment later the same voice was back, but Jessica ignored the unwilling tingle that slid through her body. She was mad as a wet hen and she wasn’t about to let this man bedevil her with his sexy bedroom voice. Plus, there was no telling who was in the bedroom with him when she interrupted and was forced to wait for him to finish whatever it was he was doing.

“Callahan, this is Porter,” she snapped. “Get your fanny over here and pull the plug on the blaring music. Now!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he drawled, “but I’m just too tired to get out of bed. I was up at the crack of dawn rounding up cattle.”

“Tough,” she spluttered angrily. “Your loud music is terrifying my animals!”

“Now they know how my cattle and sheep feel,” he said unsympathetically.

“Look, Callahan, I’ll have you know I spent the evening digging a trench so your cattle would have water. Now I’m exhausted and I need sleep.”

“Thanks, that’s mighty neighborly of you, Porter. Wish you’d done that a couple of months ago so I didn’t have to haul water to my thirsty livestock.”

“I would have if you had said something,” she replied. “I wasn’t aware that I was causing a problem.”

“Gee, and I suppose it also escaped your notice that your zoo has been terrifying my livestock, that the cattle you saw grazing the ditches on your way to work this morning were supposed to be in the pasture. Do you know what happens when a motorist slams into a cow, Blondie? Not only does said cow wind up in the deep freeze, but I lose the cow, and her calf dies of starvation. Then I have to shell out money to replenish my herd, not to mention the potential threat of a lawsuit over personal injury.”

“Well, I—” Jessica couldn’t get another word in edgewise, because Devlin was still running off at the mouth.

“But I suppose you’re so wrapped up in yourself and your wildlife preservation crusade that you never stopped to think how it affects your nearest neighbor. Did you think of that? Hmm? No? I didn’t think so.

“As for the honky-tonk music, Porter, my cattle like it dandy fine. It drowns out the racket at your place. If some of your exotics break loose and run scared, be sure to call me. I’ll bring my stun gun and zap them for you.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t put it past you to use live ammo. You’re a world-class jerk, Callahan, know that? And here I had convinced myself that I had been too hard on you. I even planned to take pity—”

“Hey, lady, the last thing I want from you is pity,” he said huffily.

“Take what you can get.”

“If I could get you to pack up and leave I’d be the happiest man on the face of the planet. This was a peaceful place to work and live until you and your jungle animals showed up.”

“That’s it, Callahan! Now you’ve really infuriated me!” Jessica exploded in bad temper.

“So, what are you gonna do about it, sugar? Come over here and beat the tar out of me?” he goaded her unmercifully.

“No, I’m calling the sheriff, and he can fine you for disturbing the peace!” she yelled at him.

“The sheriff refuses to get involved. I know because I asked him to fine you for disturbing my peace. We’ll have to work this out by ourselves. But not to worry, Blondie. Give the country music a week, and I’m sure you and your exotics will be as fond of it as my cattle and sheep are.”

Before Jessica could give him an earful of her frustration he hung up on her. She stared at the receiver in outrage. She hated for that devilish cowboy to have the last word. But she supposed he thought it was fitting, since she had shut the door in his face the previous night.

Jessica slammed down the phone, stormed upstairs to her bedroom, undressed, then buried herself beneath the quilts and clamped pillows over her ears. It didn’t help. She could hear Allan Jackson belting out the words to “Don’t Rock the Jukebox.” The drumbeat thumped the windowpanes until Jessica was ready to scream in frustration.

“Damn the man!” she shouted to the world at large.

“YOU DID WHAT?” Derrick hooted in disbelief.

“You heard me,” Devlin said over his breakfast of cold cereal and orange juice. “I hooked up the stereo and drowned out the uproar caused by those exotic animals.”

Derrick tossed him a withering glance. “This is your idea of a compromise?”

“I didn’t get anywhere with the sheriff,” Devlin grumbled. “Porter charmed him to such extremes that Reed thinks she’s God’s gift to humanity. But Reed did convince Porter to cut her pond dam so we don’t have to haul water. She dug the trench last night.”

“So, to repay her, you hooked up a boom box and blew out her eardrums.”

Devlin shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, how was I to know she was going to dig the trench until after the fact?”

Derrick slammed his fist on the table. Silverware and bowls bounced like Mexican jumping beans. “This is juvenile, Dev. You’re going to turn this into a grudge contest if you aren’t careful. I insist that you go over there tonight and do your damnedest to make amends. If Jessica is as community-minded and financially generous as the sheriff says, then you’re the one who is going to come off looking like a jerk…which reflects on me, because folks might think I’m a party to this nonsense, which I’m sure as hell not.”

Devlin glowered at his identical twin. “Are you going to sit here and tell me that you don’t mind chasing down cattle every other day?”

“Of course not, but I’ll fix fences if that’s what it takes to keep peace. I prefer to focus my free time on Cassie Dixon. She, being a woman and all, is sure to side with Jessica in this feud.” Derrick stared placatingly at his brother. “Please, Dev, bury the hatchet. Ask the woman out and get to know her before you pass judgment. Find out why she is caught up in this crusade, make her understand that the cattle and sheep are our livelihood and that ranchers are facing tough times. Try to become the great guy you were before Sandi Saxon screwed you over for that high-rolling lawyer and moved to Oklahoma City. Stop being so cautious and defensive when it comes to women.”

Having said his piece, Derrick rose to set his bowl and glass in the sink. “I’m going to change the oil and replace the hydraulic hoses on both tractors this morning while you clean out the drills and auger seed wheat into the trucks.” Derrick glanced out the window. “There are a few clouds piling up on the horizon, so maybe we’ll finally get some rain before we plant wheat.”

“It’d be nice if something went right,” Devlin muttered.

“Oh, before I forget, I won’t be here to cook supper tonight. Cassie invited me to her restaurant to eat with her. You’re on your own, bro.”

When Derrick strode off, Devlin hunched over the table, mulling over his brother’s criticism of the neighbor situation. Truth be known, Devlin enjoyed sparring with his feisty neighbor. She was quickwitted and sassy, and she amused him in a frustrated sort of way. Furthermore, he kind of liked the fact that she stood up to him.

As for setting up the boom box, it had seemed the perfect solution to muffle the unnerving noises. The tactic had made Jessica realize what Devlin and his cattle herd had been tolerating. But as it turned out, Porter had worn herself out trenching her pond dam—to be neighborly—and Devlin had kept her up most of the night with loud music. Damn, everything he tried to do in his dealings with Jessica kept backfiring on him.

Okay, so maybe it was time to try a different tack, bury the hatchet somewhere besides in Porter’s back. Devlin could do nice and gentlemanly if the mood suited him. And okay, so he did have a tendency to project Sandi Saxon’s failings on other women after she’d trampled his male pride into the ground. The experience had disillusioned and soured him on women, and he remained on guard to prevent getting hurt again.

One thing about playing nice with Jessica Porter, though, it would just be an act, a performance to form a truce. He already knew what Jessica was like when the thermometer attached to her temper shot through the roof. The woman was prickly, defensive and high-strung, which made it tough for Devlin, who was a little prickly, defensive and high-strung himself.

Well, he would consider this a test of his temper, patience and disposition, he told himself. This was a challenge. If he could deal with the dragon lady and get her to eat out of his hand, then he should be able to handle any woman.

Derrick was right, he mused. Devlin had allowed his disillusionment with Sandi to destroy potential relationships. But past was past. Sandi was a closed chapter in his life.

Resolved to negotiating a truce, Devlin crammed his bowl and glass in the dishwasher, then strode outside to tackle the chores that awaited him. After supper he’d get spruced up and drive over to the dragon…er, Miz Porter’s place. He’d dust off the manners he hadn’t used in a few years and do a little damage control.

The woman wouldn’t stand a chance when he turned on the charm, he tried to convince himself. He’d be so suave, debonair, gallant and courteous that the dragon…er, Miz Porter would forget why she was upset with him.