His Texas Touch

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“You’ve been busy,” he commended.

Avra set down the bag she’d packed. “Aren’t you the one always telling me I have no life except for being a slave driver to my staff and giving you a hard time?” She tugged at the long, lightweight scarf around her neck and shrugged. “Guess that leaves me lots of time for conducting homegrown investigations into unsolved crimes.”

“But Wade Cornelius died of natural causes.”

“Did he, now?”

“These papers tell you otherwise?” Sam shook some of the pages in question.

“Don’t know.” Avra batted the fringes of the scarf back and forth against her palms. “So far they’ve only served to give me a massive headache. Wade’s notes were all over the place.”

“Yeah.” Sam’s sleek brows drew close in mild criticism as he scanned the journalist’s haphazard method of note taking. “Probably a writer’s thing,” he reasoned.

“Humph.” Avra eased her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Maybe that’s why I was always so bad at it.”

Grinning easily, Sam’s gaze slid back to the page he held. His eyes narrowed, and after a moment, he tilted his head and drew the sheet closer.

“You find something?” Avra pulled her hands from her pockets and moved to the sofa in order to peer across his shoulder.

“Do you know what this is?” Sam was brushing his index finger across a number.

“Uh-uh, but I’ve come across it more than once in his notes.” She sat on the back of the sofa. “I feel like I should know what it is, though.”

Sam nodded while massaging his jaw. “Me, too,” he said.

Chapter 4

Samson wore a frown when he walked into the kitchen bright and early the next morning.

Setha looked up from sweetening her coffee to fix her brother with a dazzling smile that matched the sparkle in her eyes. “Well, my, my, I didn’t think you got up before noon on Saturdays.”

“Where is she?” Sam grunted.

Setha’s beaming smile brightened, if that were possible. “Don’t worry. She’s sleeping like a baby. I think this place calms her—almost like she belongs here.” Setha practically sang the words.

Sam groaned. “Please don’t start with that stuff, Set.”

“What?” Setha’s voice raised an octave higher. “I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Right.” Sam’s frown darkened.

“Oh, please.” She waved him off and sprinted to the refrigerator for cream. “I dare you to deny that her being here is why you rushed—”

“I never rush.”

“All right—” Setha waved her hands in an accommodating fashion “—arrived downstairs on a Saturday way earlier than usual.”

“Goin’ for a ride.” Sam’s mumbled words were almost inaudible.

“Want some company?” Setha hooked a thumb in a belt loop on her denim cutoffs.

Sam rolled his eyes and went to look for the key to the barn that housed his prized stallions. “Not if this is all you’re gonna talk about.”

“Nope, you’ve told me all I need to know.” She sipped her coffee happily.

Again, Sam rolled his eyes and left the kitchen without another word. Setha downed another hearty gulp of her coffee and ran after her brother.

* * *

Avra had awakened a half an hour earlier. Instead of heading down to the kitchen, she took up residence at the calico-cushioned window seat. There she enjoyed the rear view of the S. Melendez Ranch. It was a magnificent spread.

As magnificent as the owner?

“Stop,” she ordered with a shake of her head and an angry rub across the bridge of her nose. She glanced toward the night table to read the clock that said 8:35 a.m.

“Go back to sleep.” She tugged the peach terry robe about her slender form but made no move to leave the seat. “Lord knows the bed was a dream,” she said amid a yawn.