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  “Well, if I don’t get an easement, then I might have to sell the land to the CIA or some black ops firm so they can use it as a training ground. Maybe a shooting range. They’ll have to helicopter in. That would be mighty noisy. Or maybe I’ll sell it to a forest products company and let them chop down all the trees. That would certainly reduce the value of the surrounding properties. Or an oil company interested in drilling for crude. I understand that fracking is quite profitable these days.”

  Alec rubbed his jaw. “This is a quiet town. We’d like to keep it that way.”

  “More like a ghost town. Is there even a decent restaurant around here that doesn’t serve hog jowls?”

  “Depends on your definition of decent. The people who live here want to keep things the way they are. They don’t want any Florida people or any other people trespassing on their land.”

  Amelia pointed to the property plat. “Trespassing? According to this deed, this is my grandmother’s land. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Amelia pursed her lips. “Maybe a satanic cult would be interested in establishing a commune up here in these mountains. Or maybe…I could interest a utility company in buying the spring and start charging you all for the water you’ve stolen from my grandparents over the years. I can think of a lot of interesting uses for this property.”

  “You have quite an imagination.”

  “I think so. And I’m just getting started.”

  “Those tactics won’t work with me, Miss Rushing. You can get your tight little butt out of my office and find someone else to threaten.”

  Amelia batted her lashes and crossed her legs. So, he had noticed her. Maybe she could use his attraction to her advantage.

  “Why, Mr. Brady. I do believe you’re flirting with me.” She pulled down her dress again to hide the spreading run in her stockings that kept appearing at the most inopportune times. A run that was quickly becoming a marathon. Now the man was openly staring at the bare spots on her legs.

  “That’s not flirting where I come from.”

  “You were born here, weren’t you?”

  Alec furrowed his eyebrows.

  “I’ll bet you were born in my grandmother’s cabin.”

  Alec’s silence spoke volumes.

  “Oh, my God, you were, weren’t you?”

  Alec rose from his chair. “Miss Rushing, it’s not a crime to be poor.”

  “I didn’t say it was.” Amelia tried to look properly shameful. “Let’s settle this thing.”

  “I think our business is done.”

  Amelia walked around the desk, reached up, put a hand on Alec’s shoulder, and pushed him down roughly into his chair.

  “No. I think our business here has just begun. But right now I’m starving. I’ve been driving for hours, and I’ve driven around what you call a town, and I can’t find a single restaurant.”

  “You’ve got to go all the way into Demming to find one.”

  “How far is Demming?”

  “About thirty miles.”

  “Make us a reservation.”

  “Miss Rushing, I’m not a concierge. I’m a lawyer. And a damn good one.”

  “If you’re so good, what are you doing in this crummy office in this crummy town? And anyway, you’re my lawyer now.”

  “I didn’t agree to take you on as a client.”

  “Looks to me like you could use a client. Anyway, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough. But right now my blood sugar is low and I need to eat. We need to leave before it starts to rain.”

  “There’s no rain in the forecast. Are you always this bossy?”

  “Only when I’m hungry and mad. And right now, I’m a little of both.” Amelia’s growling stomach betrayed her. “Okay, here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to pack, check out of what you townfolk call a hotel, and I’ll meet you back here.”

  “So you’re leaving after all?”

  “Who said anything about leaving? I’ve been thinking. Why should I waste my money on a hotel when my family owns a perfectly good cabin? I’m going to move in and stay there until you sell my property. Then tomorrow morning you can take me on a tour of my land and introduce me to the surrounding landowners.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I’m going to cause you a world of trouble.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Watch me, Jethro.”

  ****

  The problem was Alec couldn’t stop watching her. From the moment he’d entered his office and taken one look at Amelia Rushing, he was “gobsmacked,” as his mama used to say. She’d always told him that’s how true love happens. And this woman wasn’t even his type. She was a little spitfire. Probably super-high maintenance, like the women he’d dated in New York. If he wasn’t careful, he could fall hard for her. Even that giant run in her stocking was turning him on.

  It had been a while since he’d been attracted to a woman. The truth was there weren’t really any eligible women in Confrontation except Brady cousins, and they were strictly off limits. There had been women in New York, but he didn’t live in New York now, and he didn’t envision himself going back to that rat race. Anyway, he didn’t know any women who would give up the big city to live in his small hometown. He was satisfied with his lifestyle, but he did miss the companionship of a woman. There was no sense thinking about this particular woman since, when her business was concluded here, she’d be gone. It was obvious she was itching to get out of town. Probably back to her boyfriend. A woman who looked like Amelia Rushing would definitely have a boyfriend, maybe even a husband, although she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

  He couldn’t imagine a beautiful, vibrant woman like Amelia Rushing—with her fall of luxurious, sable hair that he couldn’t wait to get his hands into, silky white skin, kissable lips, and bedroom eyes—being content living in Confrontation. Unless he could convince her to stay. Or hogtie her. That might be interesting. That would be the typical behavior of a male in Confrontation, although it wasn’t his style. More like Uncle Bunnell’s, if you could believe the stories. And he was nothing like Uncle Bunnell. It was easier to hate her, since he knew he could never have her. His feelings for her were complex and confusing. She accused him of flirting. Well, he wanted to do a lot more than that with the beautiful realtor.

  She had a lot of nerve showing up and announcing she was moving into his cabin. Well, technically it was her cabin, or at least her grandmother’s cabin. But still, where was she supposed to sleep? In his mother’s old room?

  Somehow, he’d been hoodwinked into taking her out to dinner. How had that happened? During dinner, he would calmly explain the situation and talk her out of her plan. He was a champion debater. He couldn’t afford to have her stay on the property. Who knew what she’d discover? He’d heard stories about the Rushing property his whole life. Stories about his Uncle Bunnell, nicknamed “Uncle Bundy” after the notorious serial killer Ted Bundy. All he knew was that, over the years, people in his life kept disappearing. The stories were probably exaggerated, but he couldn’t afford to take that chance. He was going to have to figure out how to get rid of her before she learned the ugly truth about Confrontation.

  Chapter Four

  Amelia was out of breath after the strenuous walk from the car. She looked back down the road.

  “That’s a pretty steep driveway,” she observed, mustering all her strength to fight her way through the underbrush. “I think we need a machete.” Her legs were practically stripped bare by the briars, leaving multiple jagged holes in her stockings. There were too many runs to cover up. She couldn’t help but notice Alec Brady staring at them. He’d probably been imagining her naked all through dinner. Well, hell, she had been mentally undressing him, too. Apparently, she had lost all sense of modesty. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into him, after a proper bath. If this cabin even had indoor plumbing.

  “You wanted to walk the property. You know you could have looked at aerial photos of the property without l
eaving your living room. Despite the low opinion you seem to have of our town, the county is pretty tech-savvy. Everything’s online. You could have called the county property mapping office and got what you needed.”

  With only a small incline to go, Amelia put on the brakes like a petulant child and refused to move.

  Alec relented, taking Amelia’s hand. “Here, let me help you.”

  When he touched her hand, her skin sizzled. She almost drew it back, but she didn’t. It felt good in hers. They walked hand in hand uphill for a few more minutes—actually Alec pulled her up—until a modest wooden cabin appeared in the clearing. When he dropped her hand, all the warmth left her body. Night was about to fall, and she was feeling the cold, feeling out of breath and way out of shape. The tips of her nipples were protruding through her short-sleeved T-shirt. And Alec was politely trying NOT to stare at them.

  “Maybe I’d better carry you over the threshold since you don’t have legal access to the place.” Left unsaid was the fact that she wasn’t sure she could make it across the threshold on her own steam.

  Amelia frowned. “That won’t be necessary.” Irritated, she met his challenge and managed to summon a burst of energy and follow Alec in when he opened the door with his key.

  Amelia’s eyes widened and her mouth opened as she stood at the door in amazement.

  “For some reason I thought this was going to be a two-room shack with a potbellied stove, covered with layers of dust and a million creepy crawly things.” She looked around. “Doesn’t look like much from the outside. But inside it looks more like something out of Better Homes & Gardens®.

  Alec smiled proudly. “How long has it been since you’ve been up here?”

  “This is my first time. But I’ve seen pictures, lots of pictures, and this doesn’t look anything like the snapshots my grandmother showed me. Their cabin was made of wood, with a screened-in porch. And it was small. The kitchen floors were linoleum, not pine. The appliances were old-fashioned and white.”

  Amelia walked the length of the cabin. “Wow, you actually have good taste.”

  “For a hillbilly?”

  Amelia shrugged.

  “I’ve made some improvements. I’m pretty good with my hands.”

  Amelia looked at Alec’s strong hands and slapped herself silently for her traitorous thoughts about what else he might be good at. She was definitely horny, and she hoped he wasn’t too observant.

  “Let me show you around the rest of the place.”

  Alec led her on a tour of the house, from the modern, fully-equipped and stocked kitchen to two cozy bedrooms, modern bathrooms, and back to the living room with a million-dollar view of the mountains. The sun was beginning to set, surrounding the mountains in a riot of color.

  “And there wasn’t a picture window in the snapshots.”

  “I had it installed,” Alec observed. “Being a realtor, you’d know all about upgrades.”

  Amelia stopped in front of a painting of a woman. It was arresting, and she couldn’t look away. The colors were wonderful. The style of this painting reminded her of the one in her grandmother’s condo, but her grandmother’s was a landscape.

  “Who is this woman?”

  “That was my mama when she was younger.”

  “She was a beautiful woman. No, she was more than beautiful. She was absolutely stunning.”

  Amelia moved closer to the painting and studied the signature. “That’s a Moss Hathaway.”

  “It’s just a painting.”

  “A Moss Hathaway is not just a painting. If you knew anything about art, you’d know that. Didn’t they teach you anything at Duke? Do you know how much this painting is worth? Since Moss Hathaway disappeared without a trace, his paintings, if you could find them, are priceless. My grandmother has one.”

  Alec led her away from the living room. “It’s probably just a copy. If this painting had been worth anything, my mother would have sold it to pay for my education. As it was, she sent me what she could, but I had to work my way through college and law school. I’m still paying back the loans.”

  That disclosure only made Amelia more attracted to Alec. She liked a self-reliant man.

  Amelia inspected the painting. “I majored in art history in college. I’ve seen Moss Hathaways in museums here and abroad. I know the real thing when I see it. How did you come to own a Moss Hathaway? Dealers all over the world would kill to snag one of these. There must be a story there.”

  “It’s nobody’s business.” It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about the authenticity of the painting or his recently departed mother.

  She tried a gentler tack. “Thanks for fixing up my house.”

  “It’s my house,” Alec objected. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “Your grandmother hasn’t been back here in decades.”

  “She couldn’t get back. Arguing with me is pointless. Where do you want me to sleep?”

  “Are you seriously going to move in here?”

  “Right after you get my suitcase out of the car.”

  Alec shook his head. “Do I look like a butler?”

  Amelia relented and assumed a less demanding tone. “I’d appreciate it if you would please get my suitcase from the car. It’s dark out there.”

  “If you’re afraid of the dark, then you sure don’t want to live in a cabin in the woods.”

  “If you help me sell the place, then I won’t have to, will I?”

  Raising his hands in frustration, Alec turned and started to the car. “I’ll be right back. Watch out for the creepy crawly things and bears. And you can sleep in Ma’s old room, first door on the left.”

  Bears? This had been a bad idea from the start. The prospect of sleeping in the room of a recently deceased woman was less than thrilling. But she wasn’t afraid of ghosts—just bad weather. Hopefully, the weather would hold. The thought of surviving a storm in the mountains was chilling. With all these tall trees—lightning rods—surrounding the house. And the idea of thunder crashing about against the mountains was frightening. At least she wouldn’t be alone. She’d have Alec. He doubted her resolve, but she would show him what she was made of. She was going to put down roots until the sale went through. No matter how long it took. Even if she had to become a temporary resident of Confrontation. And she was beginning to come to terms with the town. It was small and insular but at the same time beautiful and mysterious. And it was surprisingly appealing, like her new roommate.

  While Alec ambled to the car to get her suitcase, she looked around her new bedroom. There were twelve—she counted them—afghans folded neatly on a queen-sized bed. It must get cold up in the mountains, or else Alec’s mother was a hoarder. What had she died of? Amelia opened a drawer and found more than twenty hair combs.

  A few minutes later, Alec wandered in and placed her suitcase on a French provincial makeup table. Caught in the act of snooping, Amelia slammed the dresser drawer shut.

  “Sorry,” she managed.

  “I’m sure you have questions,” Alec said.

  “None of my business.”

  “I haven’t changed anything about the room since she passed.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “You must be wondering…”

  Amelia shrugged.

  “Alzheimer’s. Early onset. Well, in the end, pneumonia is what she died of.”

  That explained the abundance of afghans and combs.

  “You took care of her yourself?”

  “Her sisters and my cousins came by during the day. I had her at night. We don’t put our elderly in homes like you Florida people do.”

  Amelia bristled. “How do you know what we do?”

  “It’s what I’ve heard.”

  “My grandmother took care of my grandfather without help until the end. It was hard on her, but we take care of our own, too.” Amelia hoped he’d never find out about her father’s intention to
put his mother into an independent living facility.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Alec handed her a folded set of freshly laundered, sweet-smelling flowered sheets. “I’d have made the bed, but we weren’t expecting company.”

  Amelia took the sheets out of Alec’s hands, brushing against his fingers, and received another electric shock—a lightning-like sensation. Alec’s use of the word “we,” probably out of habit, indicated he still hadn’t accepted that his mother was gone.

  “When you’re ready for bed, come on out to the living room. I’ll make you a cup of hot cocoa.”

  “You don’t need to wait on me.”

  “Ma couldn’t sleep before she had her cup of hot cocoa. Otherwise, she’d wander around the house all night.”

  Amelia looked at Alec. The man was full of surprises. He was sweet, a nurturer. Nothing like she’d originally thought him. She accepted his generous gesture.

  “That would be nice.”

  Amelia slipped into a cornflower-blue silk nightgown, a silk robe, and her favorite pair of snuggly grey UGG slippers and walked into the cozy living room. A fire was burning. She noticed some bestsellers on the shelves on either side of the fireplace—even some romances. Either Alec was a voracious reader or his mother had been. Amelia read two or three books a week, and she recognized some of her favorite titles.

  Alec came up behind her. “Did you think I was illiterate?”

  “The thought never crossed my mind.” The man was wickedly perceptive.

  Alec had set out a tray of hot chocolate and home-baked cookies.

  “Go ahead, have some,” he offered. “I baked them myself. Ma had a sweet tooth. It’s been kind of lonely since she’s been gone.”

  “I thought you had a big family.”

  “I do. And they’re always stopping by unexpectedly. But there’s lonely and there’s lonely. It’s like I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. My mother was such a big part of my life, and suddenly it’s just me. I had so much responsibility and now nothing. It’s an empty feeling, like part of me is missing.”