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Ethan hugged him back. “You’d better go to bed before you pass out.” The beer had taken its toll and Travis was slowly going down.
Travis moved away. “I’ll see you in the morning.” In the doorway he paused. “Sure you don’t want my bed?”
“Sure.”
“Night Ethan.”
“Good night, Travis.”
Ethan stared at the sofa with all the clothes and the coffee table with the leftover remnants of a meal. How did Travis live like this? If Molly could see it, she’d have a fit. Or maybe not. Molly wasn’t herself these days; her husband’s betrayal had hit her hard. But Travis could always make her laugh and Ethan hoped that having him home for a weekend would cheer her up.
He shoved the table to one side and dropped the clothes on the floor beside it. He unfolded the bed and saw that it already had sheets. That was good, he supposed. He didn’t even want to think who might’ve slept on them last. He was too tired. He flipped off the light, threw off his jeans and shirt and crawled in. It had been a long day—too long. His hip would probably ache tomorrow, but that was a casualty he’d learned to live with.
As he drifted off to sleep, it wasn’t his hip or his family that was on his mind, it was the redheaded stripper. What was her story? Why was she stripping against her will? She needed help. No. He resolutely turned over. She didn’t need his help. It was none of his business—absolutely none.
THE NEXT MORNING Ethan picked up all the clothes and put them in the washing machine. He cleared away the trash and washed the dishes in the sink. By the time Travis stumbled out of the bedroom, Ethan had the clothes folded and the room as clean as he could get it.
Travis scratched his head and glanced around the apartment with bloodshot eyes. “Damn, Ethan, when did you turn into my mother?”
“There’s no coffee or food here, so I had to do something until you dragged yourself out of bed. Get your clothes on. I’m hungry and I desperately need coffee.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Travis said with a grin. “I’ll take a quick shower and we’ll be out of here in ten minutes.”
“Hurry.”
In no more than seven minutes, Travis emerged from the bathroom with his wet hair slicked back and dressed for the day. Ethan was surprised at the transformation. He’d have sworn that Travis would have a hangover for the rest of the day. Years ago a hangover was a daily occurrence for Ethan; he quickly shook off the thought.
“Tell you what,” Travis said as he fastened his watch. “I have to check out a job in Fort Worth—make sure the materials I ordered were delivered. We can eat at a café not far from the site.”
“How long will it take to get there?”
Travis slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, brother, I’ll have you there in no time.”
Ethan followed in his truck. He was heading back to Junction Flat as soon as he’d talked to Travis. That was the reason he’d hung around this morning; he had to try once more.
The café was a typical down-home kind of place with red gingham curtains and country music playing on a radio. They sat in a booth and Ethan ordered coffee immediately.
“Thanks for straightening the apartment,” Travis said. “I usually do that on the weekends.”
“Just be glad your sister didn’t see it.”
The waitress brought the coffee and took their order.
“Speaking of Molly…how is she?” Travis asked.
“Not good and neither is Pop,” he said truthfully. “Molly’s depressed and Pop’s worried about her, and it’s getting to him.”
“My being there’s not gonna help.”
“You might be surprised.” Ethan met his eyes.
“Ethan,” Travis groaned, and changed the subject. “How’s Cole handling all this?”
“He’s angry as hell at his father, which is understandable. I’m just glad he and Molly are at the ranch with us. Listen, they’d both like it a lot if you could come for a visit…maybe just a weekend. That’s all I’m asking. A weekend out of your life.”
Their breakfast arrived and Travis didn’t answer. They ate in silence. Finally Travis wiped his mouth. “Okay, I’ll come home next weekend.”
Ethan smiled—he couldn’t help it. “Thanks,” he said. “Why don’t you call Molly and tell her?”
“So she won’t think you pressured me?” Travis grinned.
“Something like…” His voice trailed off as he noticed a woman sitting in a corner by herself. There were papers scattered on the table and she was reading them as she drank coffee. Ethan blinked. It couldn’t be, he told himself. But there she was, the redheaded stripper. Looking a bit different, but it was her, he was sure of it. Her hair was pulled back and clipped in a knot, and she wore a brown business suit. The face was the same, though. He had studied it thoroughly last night and he’d know her anywhere.
“Ethan, what are you staring at?” Travis asked.
“I can’t believe it.”
“What?” Travis turned and followed Ethan’s gaze. “Well, I’ll be damned! It’s her, isn’t it?”
“Turn around and quit staring.”
Travis glanced at Ethan. “I’m going over to say hi.”
“No,” Ethan said. “Her life is her business.”
“You said she was scared and being forced to strip. Well, she doesn’t look too scared now. I’m gonna prove to you how wrong you were.”
Before Ethan could stop him, Travis was out of the booth and marching toward the woman. Ethan slowly followed.
“Howdy,” Travis said, and she raised her head. Ethan recognized the sparkling blue of her eyes, but he saw no fear in them today, just annoyance.
“Do I know you?” she asked.
“No, but I know you,” Travis said glibly.
She arched a fine eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yeah, and you look as good with your clothes on as you do with them off.”
“I beg your pardon?” she said in a haughty tone. “If this is a come-on, it’s not working and I wish you’d leave.”
Ethan put his arm around Travis’s shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse my brother. He’s forgotten his manners. We’re sorry if we bothered you.”
Travis shook off Ethan’s arm. “Yeah, and to make up for it, when you get off work tonight, I’ll take you out for an early breakfast. How’s that?”
She frowned. “Get off work? What are you talking about?”
Travis placed his hands on the table and leaned toward her. “The strip joint, honey. If you want to keep it a secret, that’s fine with me.”
“A strip joint? You think I work in a strip joint?”
“I know it for a fact,” Travis told her. “And you don’t just work there, you’re the star attraction.”
Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’m calling the police.”
Ethan knew when enough was enough. If the woman had a secret, it was hers to keep. He caught Travis by the collar and pulled him away. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said. “I apologize for the intrusion.” He pushed his brother toward the door.
Outside Travis straightened his shirt. “What the hell did you do that for?” he growled. “She may be able to fool you, but she can’t fool me.”
“She has a right to her privacy.”
“You didn’t think so last night. You wanted to rescue her.”
“Something’s different today. I can’t explain it.”
“She’s all prim and proper and…” Travis let out a long breath, his irritation evaporating. “God, she’s a beautiful woman, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed, glancing through the café window. In that instant he made a decision. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“What are you—”
Travis’s words faded as Ethan entered the restaurant. He took out his wallet and removed a business card, then walked over to her table and placed it in front of her. She drew back as if to brace herself.
“My name’s Ethan Ramsey. I’m a private investigator. If you need any help, just give me a call.”
Her eyes caught his. “Contrary to what your brother might think, I am not a stripper. He’s mistaken me for someone else.”
“If you say so.” Ethan knew he should walk away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from her face. She was so sincere—and so different from the woman last night. What was it that pulled him to her? He didn’t know, but he had to do what he’d told Travis—respect her privacy. He tipped his hat. “Good day, ma’am.”
“Mr. Ramsey?” she called, and he turned back.
“Does she really look like me?”
He was taken aback by the question, but he answered truthfully. “A dead ringer.”
“I see,” she murmured, and rose to her feet. “I assure you it wasn’t me.”
“You’ve said that.”
“And you don’t believe me?”
Ethan took a step toward her. “I’m not sure what to believe, but the woman last night hated stripping. I thought she might need some assistance. That’s why I left my card. If you’re not her, just throw it away.” He inclined his head and walked to the door.
SERENA FARRELL stared after the tall man and she noticed that he limped slightly, but it didn’t diminish his aura of strength and capability. Not that she needed either one. A stripper? It was too ludicrous to think about.
As she stuffed papers into her briefcase, she could see him through the window talking to the other man. They were definitely brothers—same brown hair and eyes. Ethan Ramsey was the leaner and taller of the two. His brother also had an attitude, while Ethan seemed compassionate. He had warm eyes, and for some reason he seemed worried about her. There was no need to be. She wasn’t a stripper who required his assistance. She was a teacher and taught art at a local high school. She’d met the father of one of her students here this morning; he worked during the week so she’d arranged to meet him on a Saturday. His son had remarkable artistic skills, but he saw that as being sissy and not macho enough. She’d tried to convince him otherwise, but the father was macho to the core and didn’t like his son sitting around drawing pictures. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t accept his son’s talent and encourage him, but then, dealing with parents was the hardest part of her job.
“Hey, Serena, who was the good-looking guy you were talking to?” Daisy, the waitress, asked.
“Which one?” she countered with a smile. The school where she taught wasn’t far away, and Serena often came in here for coffee. She became acquainted with Daisy and she liked her.
“The Clint Eastwood type with the boots and the hat.”
Serena picked up the card. “Said his name’s Ethan Ramsey. He’s a private investigator.”
“Do you need a private investigator?”
“No. He thought I was someone else.”
“He used a line like that? I didn’t figure he was the type.”
Serena started to tell her about the stripper part, but decided not to. She didn’t want any more rumors to circulate. There were enough already. More than enough.
“You just can’t tell, can you?” she replied as she collected her briefcase and slid the card into her pocket. She’d throw it away later.
Daisy quickly wiped the table. “No, you sure can’t, but he could use that line on me any day of the week. I served him coffee and breakfast, and all he said was thank-you. All the guys go for you.”
“Maybe he noticed the wedding ring on your finger.”
Daisy twisted her hand. “Oh, yeah, forgot about that.”
Serena smiled. “I’ve got to go. See you later.”
“Oh, Serena,” Daisy called before she could leave. “I’m sorry about your grandfather and all.”
The smile left Serena’s face. “Thank you,” she said, and walked out.
As she got into her car, she reflected that everyone was sorry about her grandfather…and all. But it didn’t change a thing.
AS SHE ENTERED THE driveway, Serena saw that all the other cars were gone. Her grandmother’s monthly bridge meeting took place this morning, and Serena was glad it was over. She had to talk to Gran and she couldn’t put it off any longer. Her grandmother had to stop spending money. They were broke; it was that simple. Her grandfather had died three months ago and left them heavily in debt. Her grandmother wasn’t helping by ignoring the problem.
She went in through the kitchen and found the house completely quiet, except for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway, which only emphasized the silence. The lady Gran had hired to serve refreshments must have gone. She and Gran had argued about it this morning. They couldn’t afford to pay someone for maid services, but as usual Gran had turned a deaf ear to her pleadings.
As Serena started for the hall, the kitchen phone rang. Startled, she merely stared at it. She hated answering it these days. It always seemed to be a bill collector.
She took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Ms. Farrell, please.”
“This is Ms. Farrell.”
“This is Mr. Wylie from the bank.” Serena knew exactly who it was. She’d heard his voice more than she wanted to during the past three months. “I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday, Ms. Farrell, but this is getting serious. We have to have an installment on your grandfather’s note. We can’t continue to let this go on. If we don’t receive at least a partial payment by the end of the next week, we’ll have to start foreclosure proceedings on the house. Your grandfather put it on the note as collateral. There’ll be a notice in the mail.”
Serena swallowed the painful knot in her throat. “I’m doing the best I can, Mr. Wylie.”
“I know, Ms. Farrell, and I hate to do this. I’m aware of your situation, but my superiors are demanding restitution for this loan.”
Serena glanced outside to the beautiful May day. The sun was shining, the trees were flourishing and the grass was greener than it had been even a week ago. A perfect day in an imperfect world. She recognized that now she’d have to do something that would break her heart.
