Читать книгу Wild About A Texan - Jan Hudson, Jan Hudson - Страница 12

Olivia drove down the tree-lined street on Austin’s west side, then turned into the driveway. She bumped over the cracked asphalt that had been heaved upward by live-oak roots and pulled to a stop in her space beside the garage apartment in the rear yard. She waved to Dr. Tessa Jurney, who was sitting on the side porch of the main house.

Grateful to be home and doubly grateful that it was Friday, she climbed from the oven of a car. Sweat trickled from her hairline, and her sleeveless shift stuck to her back from the car’s leather seat. She blotted her face and neck with a paper towel from the roll she’d learned to carry with her.

“Come have a glass of iced tea,” Tessa called. “You look as if you’re about to melt.”

“I melted a long time ago,” Olivia said as she walked toward the porch of the two-story house, an elegant white clapboard from the thirties. “Is it always this hot?”

“At this time of year? Always. People around here say that there are two seasons—summer and August. Thank goodness August is finally over. September is a bit better, especially toward the end, and October is glorious.” She poured a glass of tea from the pitcher and handed it to Olivia.

Olivia took a long swallow, then rolled the cold glass over her forehead. “The first thing I’m going to do when I get a pay check is to have my car’s air conditioner fixed. I never needed it in Colorado, so it wasn’t a problem. Even though the car’s getting old, it has never given me a moment’s trouble. I didn’t even know the air conditioner wasn’t working until I headed to Texas.”

“I’ll be happy to loan you money to—”

“No.” Olivia held up her hand. “Absolutely not. You and Ed have already done too much for me—helping me get this job and letting me live in your apartment for practically nothing. No loans, but thanks, anyhow.”

“At least drive Ed’s car for a while. He’ll be in Atlanta for ten more days, and it’s just sitting idle in the garage.”

With the temperatures still soaring into the nineties, it was murder to be stuck in a car without air-conditioning. But Olivia hated to be a mooch. She wasn’t accustomed to having to depend on the generosity of others or doing without conveniences—at least not until she left Thomas with nothing but the Lexus she still drove, her clothes and what few personal items she could hurriedly throw into the car. She couldn’t even count on her father—he’d disinherited her when she walked out on Thomas, even though she’d been frightened for her life. In the past few years, Olivia had learned to survive on a lot less than she was accustomed to—and been a thousand times more content.

For two years Dr. Tessa Jurney had been her major professor in graduate school at American University in Washington, D.C. Tessa and her family had moved to Texas shortly before Olivia had been forced to flee, but they had kept in touch with a card or a phone call now and then. Tessa and Irish were the only people who knew the whole story—or at least most of it—about her past. Olivia had always meant to finish her doctorate, but with Thomas after her…well, things had gone on hold for a while. Tessa had pulled the strings that had allowed her to complete her degree.

“How are your classes going?” Tessa asked.

“Wonderfully. I have some really bright students in the two undergrad classes I’m teaching, and I’m enjoying my seminar with Dr. Bullock immensely—even though we have lots of reading to do. I just came from three hours in the library.”

As Tessa refilled their glasses, a truck stopped in front of the house across the street. The name of a furniture store was scrolled across the side.

“Looks like our new neighbors may be moving in soon,” Tessa said.

“Um. Do you know who bought the house?”

“No. Jenny and her friends are hoping that it’s a family with a ‘really fine’ son in her age range.”

Jenny was the Jurneys’ thirteen-year-old. They also had a son, Bill, who was sixteen. Both were good kids. Part of Olivia’s deal for living in the apartment was to be close by for Jenny and Bill on evenings when the Jurneys went out or the occasional weekend when Tessa and Ed were out of town. Jenny and Bill were at that awkward age when they were too old for sitters and too young to be alone—especially for an entire weekend.

A luxury car pulled to a stop behind the truck and a long-legged blonde got out and hurried up the walk of the Spanish-style home.

“The owner, you think?” Olivia asked.

Tessa shook her head. “Looks like a decorator to me, and I’d venture that no expense has been spared. I priced a chair at that furniture store last year. It cost more than Jenny’s braces. The braces won.”

The two of them did some more speculating as the delivery men toted couches and tables and chairs up the front walk. In the two and a half weeks that Olivia had been living in Austin, the new-neighbor question had been an ongoing saga. The Sold sign went up the day after Olivia arrived, and there had been a parade of repairmen and plumbers and landscapers coming and going.

It was a beautiful home, Olivia had thought with a tiny twinge of envy as she’d watched the painters apply a coat of warm cream to the stucco. She loved the red tile roof and the sprawling hacienda style with the walled courtyard. A beautiful home indeed, but her little apartment suited her just fine—and she was thankful to have it. Although it was furnished with castoffs as Tessa had warned, the rooms were really quite charming, especially after Olivia had done some painting and spent a couple of weekends scouting garage sales and resale shops. She’d actually enjoyed going “junking” as Tessa called it—and gotten some darned good bargains.

She smiled at the notion of Michelle or Dani or any of her other chichi California pals buying used goods in someone’s garage or at a Goodwill shop. Olivia had come a long way from California, and she wouldn’t go back for anything. She much preferred the peacefulness of her life now—the friends she’d acquired since she left that life.

“Something amusing?” Tessa asked.

“I was just thinking about how much I like Austin—and going to garage sales. Want to go junking again tomorrow?”

“Can’t. Jen has a soccer game that I promised to attend.”

Another big truck stopped across the street.

“Moving van,” Olivia said. “Looks like Jenny’s suspense will soon be over. I hope for her sake that a really fine guy is moving in.”

Olivia was brushing her teeth Saturday morning when a knock came at her door. Probably Tessa, she thought. She rinsed and hurried to the door, wiping her hands on the seat of her shorts.

Her heart stumbled when she opened the door. Jackson Crow leaned against the jamb, a big grin on his face and a cup dangling from his index finger.

“Mornin’,” he said, tugging the brim of his straw cowboy hat.

“What are you doing here?”

He held out the cup. “Came to borrow a cup of sugar.”

“Sugar? You came a long way for a cup of sugar. How did you find me?”

“Irish gave me your address. A cute little redhead with braces told me you lived up here. Jenny, I think she said her name was. Say, is that coffee I smell? I’d give fifty dollars for a cup of coffee right now.”

Olivia sighed. “Okay, come on in, but you can’t stay long. I’m going junking.”

“Is that like slumming?”

“Not even close.”

He tossed his hat on the sofa and followed her to the kitchen alcove where she poured a mug of coffee for him. “Sugar? Cream?”

“One sugar. No cream. Say, this is a nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks. I like it.”

“Cozy,” he said, standing so close that she could smell the faint scent of his aftershave.

She tried to act casual, as if Jackson’s dropping in was an everyday occurrence, but she was so nervous that she spilled sugar all over the cabinet before she finally got a spoonful into the coffee. Why did he have to stand so close? She handed him the mug and stepped back. Unfortunately, the alcove was so small that she bumped into the stove and couldn’t retreat any further. His presence filled the compact area as he raised the mug to his mouth and swallowed.

“Ah, that hits the spot. You make a great cup of coffee. You don’t happen to have any leftover eggs or a biscuit or something, do you?”

“No,” she said, yanking open a cupboard, “but here’s a granola bar. You can take it with you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave.”

“What’s the hurry?”

“I told you that I was going junking. If I don’t hurry, all the good stuff will be gone before I get there.”

“Get where?”

Olivia sighed. “I’m going to hit several garage sales first. I have a list from the paper.”

“Garage sales? Well, I’ll be darned. You don’t strike me as the type.” He stuck the granola bar in his pocket, refilled his mug with coffee and said, “Tell you what, I’ll go with you.” He started for the door, grabbing his hat on the way. “Which one do you want to hit first?”

Olivia tried every way she could think of to dissuade Jackson from accompanying her, but he was unyielding. The last thing in the world she wanted was to spend the morning with Jackson Crow and his extraordinary smile.

Well…not the last thing.

Actually, her spirits had seemed remarkably high from the moment he’d arrived at her door. Just seeing a familiar face, she supposed. But spending time with him wasn’t wise. She wasn’t going to allow herself to get involved with Jackson. Thank goodness he lived several hours away.

“Why are you here?” she asked as they walked down the steps of her apartment.

“I came to see you—to borrow a cup of sugar.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, why are you in Austin?”

“Business.”

“Shouldn’t you be tending to it?”

He grinned as he slipped on his sunglasses. “It doesn’t start until Monday. I have the whole weekend free. Want me to drive?”

“No, thank you. I’ll drive. You navigate.” She thrust the folded newspaper and map into his hands and jerked open her car door before he could play the gentleman.

“We’re lost!” Olivia said.

“Aw, naw. Why don’t you turn left right up here?”

Fuming, she whipped into a convenience-store lot and jerked the newspaper and map from his hands. “We’re lost! I thought you were going to navigate.”

“I told you that I was better at driving than navigating.”

After studying their location and their destination on the map, she realized that they were several blocks away from the garage sale that she’d marked with two stars. “That’s where we’re going!” She poked a spot on the map. “You’ve been taking us around in circles.” She thrust the papers at him, counted to ten, then pulled out and turned to the right. This was the third time they’d been lost that morning. She could almost believe that Jackson was deliberately trying to make her angry.

“Sorry, sugar,” Jackson said, turning his smile up to high. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you someplace special for lunch. You like Mexican food?”

“I love it, but I’d love finding a desk that I can afford even more. I really need one. Darn it, if we had been there five minutes sooner, I could have bought that one on Elm Street.”

“The leg was broken. It wasn’t a good deal. We’ll find a better one, trust me. At least you got a bargain on that toaster. Two bucks ain’t bad.”

She laughed as she pulled to a stop at the address she sought. “You’re the one who got the bargain. I can’t believe that you were arguing over fifty cents. Me, I can believe, but you? I thought you told me that you’d never been to a garage sale.”

“Haven’t. But Grandpa Pete has trading days on the grounds of his store in East Texas. People have been coming to set up tables and booths there for as long as I can remember. They rent space from him and sell everything from used pots to goats. I learned dickering there, learned from a master. No finer horse trader than Grandpa Pete.”

“Seems strange. I thought your grandfather was a millionaire.”

He laughed. “Billionaire’s more like it, but he’s just plain folks. We all are. Nothing makes him madder than for one of us to start acting uppity.”

“Uppity?” She smiled at the old-fashioned term.

“Those are Grandpa Pete’s words,” he said as they climbed from the car and headed for the goods displayed along a driveway.

Olivia spotted it immediately—a small Queen Anne writing table that had been painted a ghastly shade of green. With a little work—no, make that a lot of work—it would be beautiful. And perfect for her apartment.

“Like it?” Jackson asked.

“I love it,” she whispered. “Under that awful paint is a very nice piece of furniture. It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for—better actually.”

“Great. Let’s get it.”

When she looked at the price tag, she sighed. “I think the owner knows what’s underneath the paint. It’s sixty-five dollars. Even though it’s a steal at that price, I can’t afford it. I was hoping to find something for about twenty-five.”

“Maybe we can dicker a little.”

Jackson knew the outcome before Olivia said a word. Damned if she didn’t have tears in her eyes. It about tore his heart out. He’d buy her a hundred ugly green desks if she wanted them, but she was such an independent female, he knew better than to try. He’d found out early in the morning that she didn’t intend to take a penny from him, and if he didn’t hush about it, she’d turn around and go home right then. He’d kept his mouth shut after that.

But, damn, he hated to see that wistful look on her face as she ran her fingers over the top of the table.

“No go, huh?”

Olivia shook her head. “I could only get her to come down fifteen dollars. You’re not considering buying that ratty thing, are you?”

He held up the stuffed armadillo that he’d been looking at to kill time. “I might. I kind of like old Jake here. He has character, don’t you think? Grandpa Pete would love him, and he’s got a birthday coming up soon. Let me see if I can do a little dickering for him. And these beach towels.” He grabbed a couple of towels from the display table. “I saw a lamp over there that you might check out, too.”

While Olivia was examining the lamp, Jackson made a quick offer to the plump little woman running the sale. She looked at him kind of funny, but she shrugged and agreed to the deal. He whipped out his wallet, paid her, and made his way back to Olivia with Jake and the towels under his arm.