скачать книгу бесплатно
If he hit pay dirt, one or two of the letters would be provocative as all get out. If he hit a dry hole, he’d have to pen his own…maybe throw in a little political advice to excite his fans. One way or the other, he intended to stir up a hornet’s nest to get folks in the proper mood for Red Rock’s annual Spring Fling.
The Spring Fling, which was always held on the town square on May 15, was usually a time of mischief and mayhem. If he didn’t act fast, this year’s Spring Fling would take place without even a hint of disaster or scandal.
Dwelling on that dismal thought again, Bill ordered his coffee and sat down. One sip of the strong black liquid set him to reminiscing. Why, only last year sweet Megan Holston had made two dates for the dance. Who would have thought she had it in her? For weeks leading up to the Fling neither date had known about the other. Then at the Spring Fling, when the two beaus discovered each other and people had started laughing, there had been one helluva shoot-out.
Beau #1 had shot off the tip of his big toe, and Beau #2 had been knocked out cold from the kickback of his gun. Meanwhile, as that pair of love-struck fools had wrestled each other through the night, sweet Megan had eloped with her one true love, Johnny Ambush, and lived happily and boringly ever after.
The year before, somebody had spiked the punch at the Fling with something so powerful the entire town had ended up skinny-dipping in Lake Mondo—even the big-haired and blue-haired old biddies, much to the joy of a tabloid reporter who’d shown up. The reporter had taken pictures of the old biddies’ boobs hanging to their navels and had made Red Rock the laughingstock of Texas.
Not that that was the first time lewd photographs had caused a stir during Spring Fling season.
Years ago, whew, now this had been a spell, brash young Matt Harper had set the town on its edge with a few amateur masterpieces. People had begun to think Matt, who’d been a mere senior in high school at the time, had finally settled down. Then he’d gone and pulled that low-down stunt.
Ol’ Bill rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. First, Matt had asked shy Jane Snow, who’d had a crush on him for years, to the Fling. Of course, she’d said yes, and the romantics in town had been pleased as punch for Jane. Then Jane had broken their date and nobody had known why until the night before the Fling when young Matt plastered the football locker room with poster-size pictures of her in a revealing wet T-shirt.
The poor, beautiful child had always been embarrassed by her voluptuous figure and had always done everything she could to hide it! She’d fled Red Rock the next day. The Snows enrolled her in a prim, all-girls’ school in San Antonio, and she’d stayed out of town for years. Matt had been expelled and had had to repeat that semester.
Yes sirree, the first weeks of May leading up to the Spring Fling should bring out the crazy in all true Red Rockians.
Something was definitely wrong this year.
Hell, maybe somebody had put something in the water.
Maybe it was too many tame city people moving to town.
Funny thing, after years of both of ’em being gone, Matt Harper and Jane Snow had both moved back to town. Rumor had it, they’d even kissed under the mistletoe last Christmas. What was going on?
The hard plastic seat cut into Bill’s skinny rump and spine as he forced himself to begin reading the letters. Much as he wanted to pan gold, the first twelve letters he read were dryer and duller than dirt. He was about to give up, when the thirteenth letter fell on the floor just as an eighteen-wheeler pulling a load of cattle rumbled by so fast the entire building shuddered.
Bill felt a premonition in his bones. He even shivered as he picked up that thirteenth letter from the floor. Was the paper rumpled from tears that had fallen when the writer had drafted it? Yes, the ink was definitely blurry.
Hell, maybe he was desperate, but the first corny sentence stirred the mischief in his old soul. As he read on, the words that followed fanned the flames of his troublemaking instincts.
My Only One,
From the moment I saw you, I fell in love with you, and my feelings grow with each passing day. I know we belong together, and I’m sorry I haven’t told you what’s in my heart.
My behavior may not have always been perfect. Please believe me, I would give anything to turn back time before the moment I hurt you. I’ve been a complete idiot. Nothing is as you imagined, and I’ve always been too proud to explain or say I was sorry. And because I didn’t, I lost you.
No matter how bad things seem between us right now, there has never been anyone in my heart except you. I may not have shown you or told you the true depths of my love. But that’s going to change—because I want to spend my life with you and only you.
So, here I am—confessing my love in the Gazette—publicly. If you give us a chance, I know we can find happily-ever-after.
I love you always.
Perfect!
Not that it couldn’t do with a little editing. Rare is the written masterpiece that can’t be improved by judicious cutting.
In this case all that was required was scissors to snip off the signature.
The nosey citizens of Red Rock would storm the Gazette to find out who wrote it. Folks would see secret admirers behind every cactus, red rock and mesquite bush, in every smile, wave or handshake.
He’d run it Monday!
He read the letter again and thought of any number of star-crossed couples the letter could apply to. Most of all he thought of shy Jane Snow and Matt Harper, who were all grown up—and still single.
Yes sirree. This’ll light a fire under the town, sure as a shootin’ match.
Chapter 1
Jane Snow’s long, slim fingers flew over her keyboard as she typed in the finishing touches to the in-depth report she was scheduled to make this afternoon on corporate branding. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she read over her statistics and beamed proudly.
Am I good? Or am I good?
Good enough to be the director of market research, a little voice in her head chirped smugly.
Better than hunky Matt Harper. Way better.
She rubbed her hands together and blew on her fingertips. Then she stabbed her red pencil through the tight knot of platinum-blond hair at her nape.
Smugness and pride were failings of hers. But she’d worked hard for those failings. Too hard. Nothing had ever come easily for her the way it had for Harper, who’d been born smart, popular and sure of himself.
“Top that, Harper, Mr. Most Handsome. Mr. Most Likely to Succeed,” she said aloud as she punched the print button. She was a little shocked by the sound of her normally soft voice ringing with vengeance throughout her silent house.
She shivered. All that anger. And repressed passion. Not to mention plain old fear…about a man who didn’t deserve the time of day. Even so, her teeth began to chatter as she thought about what was at stake and what Matt might do to best her.
The promotion to director of market research meant everything to her. Here was her chance to be respected in this town—for what she could do. She wanted to be known for more than her big breasts and the bizarre circumstances of her birth.
She felt as if her whole life depended on this promotion—which was ridiculous. Deep down she was still that needy, shy, insecure little girl. The girl who’d been laughed at as much because she’d been born on a pool table in a pool hall and ogled ever since she’d developed in the fourth grade when all the other girls had still been skinny sticks.
She had too much to live down in this town. So, much as she loved her family, after college she’d moved to Atlanta, Georgia. She hadn’t returned except for brief holiday visits until her mother had gotten sick. Then her mother and her sister, Mindy, had said things that had made her rethink her priorities.
So, here she was living in Red Rock, working for Fortune TX, Ltd. in San Antonio and competing for the same job as Matt Harper.
Matt would kill to be director of market research.
Not literally. Winning simply meant everything to him. It always had. Beating a woman at her game, beating her, especially her, whom he probably considered so far beneath him, he’d take it as his due.
Her lips trembled. He’d been nice lately, ever since Christmas. But she didn’t trust him. She of all people should know he was full of dirty tricks. There was no telling what surprise punch he might pull at the meeting this afternoon. He was good. But she was better.
His sweet attentiveness is getting to you. You’re a bundle of nerves.
You knew he worked for Fortune TX when Ryan talked you into applying for the job there, now, didn’t you?
But I didn’t know we’d end up butting heads—for the same position.
The man’s ruthless. Smooth. And good.
But handsome.
Jane hated these conversations with herself. Since elementary school, she’d never talked to herself about anything other than Matthew Harper. Because he’d been three years older and male, he’d had huge advantages over her back at Red Rock Public Elementary. For one thing he’d easily been the best-looking and the most popular kid in school. He’d been brash and fearless and recklessly full of himself, always besting the teachers and getting away with it. Just the kind of smart-mouthed boy to make an impression on a shy tongue-tied girl.
Back then his family had been richer than hers. In high school he’d been a football star and had dated the prettiest cheerleaders. Jane had been poor and shy and a bookish, straight-A student. When she was mentioned, people only seemed to talk about her birth and her breasts, so naturally she hadn’t wanted to call attention to herself.
He’d been a natural-born show-off. He still was. Then there was that incredible smile and that deep laugh that could melt her insides.
Was the arrogant, macho, Neanderthal going to be her nemesis all her life? Why couldn’t she just forget him? Why did the thought of him sneaking up on her, and taking those sexy pictures of her when she’d been fifteen and then exhibiting them in the locker room to humiliate her still torment her dreams?
That was back in high school, for Pete’s sake. He’d thought it was a joke.
A cruel joke that had crushed her.
She’d deliberately gone out of state to college. To Colorado, even though she’d hated the mountains and cold weather. He’d moved to L.A. for a while, so she’d gone East. Then her daddy had hit the gusher that made the Snows rich. There was nothing like oil money to improve one’s status—at least in Texas.
Then last year her mother had become ill, and Jane had decided to move home. Ryan Fortune, the owner of Fortune TX, Ltd., had wooed Matt back to Red Rock to work for him.
Suddenly when she least wanted it to, Matt’s image sprang full-blown in her mind, causing her to shudder. At thirty-five, he was lethally tall, dark and cliché gorgeous. He had a hard jaw and a permanent tan. He was powerful and sexy, his body hard and lean. Except for his loud ties, he knew how to dress. He had heavy black hair and compelling, green eyes. Lately those eyes seemed to stare deep inside her and make her too conscious of him. He laughed a lot, too.
She licked her lips as she remembered his beautifully sculpted mouth. His mouth was to die for.
Don’t ever, ever think about his mouth.
She’d thought about his mouth more than she should’ve—ever since he’d pulled her against his muscular body and kissed her under the mistletoe at a family gathering last Christmas. Every time she thought about those gentle kisses and how she’d instantly melted and become breathless in the sweet fire, a little lightning bolt would slither through her and make her feel as if all the air had gone out of her tummy.
Other people had thought about the kiss, too—mainly her mother, who wasn’t about to forget it. As a result, the townspeople gave Jane sly glances anytime Matt’s name was mentioned, just as they had after the discovery of those sexy pictures in the locker room.
Matt’s parents and hers, who ran in the same circles now, thought bygones should be bygones. Her mother kept telling her that the pictures were nothing more than a boyhood prank.
“He was a photographer. He had a natural interest in the opposite sex. You shouldn’t have gone braless in that T-shirt and let your sister spray you with the hose.”
Right. Blame the victim. “We were on our own property tanning our legs, Mom! It got hot.”
“Your father pulled a few pranks to get my attention in our younger days. Matt’s different now, and so are you. I think he likes you…or he would…if you’d let him.”
Jane wished her mother would mind her own business.
One might as well wish for rattlesnakes to become extinct in the Texas hill country.
When the printer stopped spitting out pages, Jane arose and did a few stretches and told herself she simply had to quit thinking about him. Willing herself to concentrate on her presentation, she opened the curtains and stared out at her backyard just in time to see a brand-new Texas sun peeping over the cedar fence. A lone mourning dove cooed as the live oak trees turned red.
Pretending not to hear the taunting coos of the dove, Dennis, her cat, ambled lazily up to the glass door and gave Jane the look. Thank goodness he didn’t have a mouse or a lizard this morning. Jane hated it when he killed things. She let him in. After a brief appreciative swish of her legs with the tip of his tail, Dennis headed straight to his bowl in the kitchen.
She gave the backyard a final wistful glance. Difficult as it was facing her past here, not for anything would she live in the city. Yes, she had to drive twenty miles from Red Rock into San Antonio on a daily basis, and yes, the traffic on the interstate seemed to get worse every day, and especially since the NAFTA treaty.
When she sat back down at her desk again, she lifted a folder concerning the fund-raiser she’d volunteered to chair that would raise money to benefit after-school day care for needy children. She checked over her to-do list and was pleased to find everything in order.
At least Harper had not volunteered for the project as she’d feared, so she didn’t have to deal with him at the booth she was setting up for the silent auction Wednesday night at the local high school’s baseball game. Although fund-raisers weren’t his thing usually, she’d thought he might volunteer just to tip the scales in his favor about the upcoming promotion. He was the last person she wanted at the event when she auctioned her cooking services.
Jane glanced at her watch. Her Honda was in the shop for routine maintenance, and her mother, who had errands in the city, had talked her out of renting a car and had promised to drive her to work today. Since her mother, who was an artist and a fortune-teller, could be forgetful, she was about to call her and remind her, when the phone suddenly rang.
“Happy birthday,” her younger sister, Mindy, chirped the instant she answered. Mindy was the wild sister, the loud sister.
Jane pulled the pencil out of her hair. “I forgot. I can’t believe I forgot my own birthday.”
“You work too hard.”
“Thirty-two,” Jane said a little sadly. “I’m old. Maybe I wanted to forget.”
“Age is a state of mind.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not thirty yet. You know, I can’t remember when I last went out on a date.”
“Because you turn everybody down.”
“Maybe because the right man doesn’t ask.”
Mindy hesitated. “Hey, Mom just called.”
“Did she remember she’s picking me up?”
“Yes. But that’s not why…I mean…I thought I’d better warn you. She’s on one of her tears.”
“Oh, dear. What’s she up to now?”
“Have you seen the paper yet?”
“Mindy, I have a very important presentation this afternoon. I’d—”
“Helen Geary called Mom first thing as soon as she saw it. She was very upset about it.”
Not good. Helen had been Mom’s best friend since first grade—and they were very bad influences on each other. Helen had the biggest beehive hairdo in all of Texas and that was saying something. She was also Red Rock’s most opinionated gossip and a prime meddler, if you didn’t count Ol’ Bill Sinclair.
“So what did Ol’ Bill do to get Helen’s tail in a knot? More politics?”
“Ol’ Bill ran a love letter.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He snipped the signature off the letter, and he won’t tell Helen who wrote it. Our mom had ideas of her own about the author, and she’s been talking to Matt’s mom.”
“Already?”
“Mrs. Harper thinks he’s definitely interested in you. Mom wants me to read you the love letter to see if it rings any bells.”
“Don’t tell me Mom thinks Matt wrote it.”
“Duh-h-h.”
