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  Tara flushed. “Well I was awarded the job by Mrs. Muffy Vanderworth! We have a meeting in two days to sign the contracts. If you have signed contracts, I’d like to see them!”

  “The contracts are drawn up and my meeting to sign them is on Thursday at the airport Hilton in Pittsburgh!”

  Tara grabbed the papers from her desk and shuffled through pages frantically. Grabbing one, she waved it under Justin’s nose. “Look here, the airport Hilton, Pittsburgh, Thursday!” She pointed to the pages of notes. “And construction contracts! Well, notes for them anyway. It’s my project!”

  * * *

  Justin caught just enough of the paperwork to see the word Thornberry and the pieces began to fall into place. His thoughts tumbled over and over. Tara lives at the real estate house. Tara was at the Harrison house – both days. Tara, T. Tara is TJ Thornberry!

  For a moment he couldn’t breathe. He’d committed the absolute worst business crime -- underestimating his competition. He’d been distracted by curves and green eyes and had missed every sign and signal! And that wily Winnie, she was sharp as a tack -- a grandma grizzly bear!

  * * *

  Tara watched as the wheels turned in Justin’s mind and resignation formed in his eyes. For a split second, she was wounded by his glare, disappointed that the softness his gaze held earlier had disappeared. But then her survival instincts surfaced, and she puffed herself up for battle.

  Becky nervously squeezed between Tara and Justin, fingers fluttering and her jewelry jingling. “Tara honey, Justin, let’s just back up for a minute.” Her hands were on Justin’s chest, pushing him back. “There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding here. Let’s all calm down and breathe for a minute.”

  * * *

  Justin’s mind cleared enough to realize that he was angry. He was angry at the world and his damn luck, and he was angry at himself. But even with frustration crowding his mind, he realized he was frightening the two women, and his rage clicked back a few cogs. He’d never threatened a woman in his life, and the trepidation in Becky’s eyes turned his stomach. He spun on his heel and strode through the store. The entry bells jangled crazily as he stomped out.

  * * *

  Becky held Tara’s hand, patting it repeatedly as Winnie fanned her with a paint sample book. Tara sat on the reproduction turn-of-the-century sofa at the office, her mind spinning. She hadn’t been this upset for a long time. Her carefully constructed world and her control over her environment, it was all messed up.

  One man had managed to pierce not only her fortitude but her business. Just this morning, she had been confident that the county was hers. She had the ability to keep her community stable and the people she cared about safe and happy. Fear lodged between her ribs. Now a corporation from DC and a man she disliked were taking the south part of the county. It had begun.

  Winnie came into focus as she patted Tara’s cheek. Tara glanced from one woman to the other, noting the alarm in their eyes.

  She bound to her feet, nearly toppling Becky and Winnie over. “I’m fine,” she said, pressing her fingertips to her forehead. Her hands dropped limp to her sides but as was her way, she carefully reconstructed her features to appear calm. Her mind would take more effort, she couldn’t manage that at the moment.

  Winnie tentatively touched Tara’s elbow. “Are you okay, dear?”

  Tara jerked her elbow back. “I said I’m fine, I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.”

  Winnie knew better than to follow her.

  Becky stood, wringing her hands. “This is my fault, I blabbered, like I always do. She is so angry with me.”

  Winnie shook her head and patted Becky’s arm reassuringly. “Honey, it was a matter of time until someone came here and wanted a piece of the pie – it happens.” She nudged Becky toward the kitchen. “Come on.”

  Becky leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Winnie put the teakettle on the stove.

  The old woman pushed a china cup and saucer across the counter. “Come on, dear, sit down. A cup of tea always helps.”

  Becky plunked onto a stool at the kitchen island. “I haven’t seen that look in her eye for a long time. She’s done so well the last few years.” She propped her elbow on the counter and dropped her chin into her hand. “Do you ever think about that night? Geez, I’ve never forgot it. Momma was cryin’ in the living room, Daddy said we shouldn’t interfere. I hid in my room, looking through the curtains. I swear Winnie, if you hadn’t— I would have gone in to get her myself.”

  “Now, now, dear.” Winnie patted Becky’s shoulder. “Tara is safe. She has you and me. Damnation, she has half this town behind her! She’s just not coping very well at the moment. We’ll figure this out.”

  “But, oh Winnie, I flirted with him earlier today. I mean, I always do, everybody knows that, but I touched him just to see that light in Tara’s eye. And now he’s her competition for the resort. I’ve never seen her snap like that. And I don’t think she even knows she’s all tangled up by him even without the job. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling! Oh dear, and I made it a hundred times worse.”

  A tiny smile appeared on Winnie’s lips. Becky didn’t need to further define him. Jealousy was a good sign actually, a step in the right direction.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Tara’s feet dragged as she wandered toward Justin’s house. She hadn’t left home at six a.m. planning to confront him, but her run hadn’t done anything to soothe her nerves. She’d finally concluded that they would just have to talk it over and she’d have to let him know that the project was hers.

  Not one to put things off, she’d turned right around and headed back to town.

  Pausing at the leaning front gate, she surveyed his home. The rusty, chain-link fence bowed and sagged on one side, and the porch showed signs of dry rot. The For Rent sign in the yard leaned backwards, almost to the point of disappearing into the deep grass.

  Why would a big money man choose to stay in such humble surroundings instead of a hotel? Not that there was a hotel anywhere nearby, but still. She hadn’t been past the old Martin home for a while, and she had no idea it was so run down. She wondered if the pictures on the three-year-old rental listing out of a Uniontown realty office had been up to date. Most likely not.

  Tara was always amazed at how quickly homes fell into disrepair when they sat empty. She loved Smithville, and she bought as many old houses as she could, but the task of saving every one of them was more than one person could possibly manage. The owners of this house had tried to sell for years and finally put it up for rent, but it was in sad shape now.

  Justin’s new truck, clearly out of place in the cracked driveway, sparkled in the early morning sun. She hesitated at the porch, still unsure of what she would say to make Justin understand that he and his project were not welcome in Smithville.

  The doorbell hung from twisted wires, so Tara knocked on the peeling wood frame of the screen door. No sounds of life came from within the house. She opened the screen and knocked on the wood front door loud enough to raise the dead. Embarrassed, she released the screen and it banged closed.

  Shuffling noises from inside caused Tara a moment of panic.

  The front door opened a crack and the top of Justin’s head and one eye appeared. His hair stood up at all angles, and even through the old screen, Tara could see his red-rimmed eye grow wider as it focused.

  She twisted her hands, cleared her throat, and scratched one ankle. “Hi— umm— I uh—” Very articulate, Tara, she berated herself. He opened the door wider, and she could see his bare chest.

  Justin’s lips tightened into a flat line. He pulled the door open wider, revealing that he wore only rumpled boxers. He looked pretty irritated too, with his feet planted apart, and his naked chest puffed out over a nicely chiseled stomach.

  Sensations she didn’t recognize tightened in Tara’s lower stomach, causing her to hesitate. She was torn too, because she wasn’t about to apologize about the
resort; she got the job fair and square, it was hers. Yet her hands shook, and she couldn’t form coherent words with him standing there half naked like that. Something deep inside her coiled like a spring, causing her to feel all geared up, ready to pounce. “I—I came by to talk—”

  * * *

  Justin waited for her to explain further, but she appeared to be at a loss. “Tara?”

  She flinched when he spoke.

  He scrubbed his hand across his scalp and sighed. He’d spent half the night tossing and turning on his new bed, feeling horrible about his reaction the day before. Business was business but people were people. Yet the second he’d seen her on his porch, he’d been angry all over again.

  Making a concerted effort to relax, he loosened his grip on the door and reached for the screen. But the look on her face made him falter. She was sweaty and in running clothes. She must have been up hours ago. But her expression wasn’t just business, it was partly hesitation – but it was also… interest? Was he reading her right? She had never shown him anything but disdain. The boxers hanging limply from his hips did nothing to hide his instantaneous response. He stepped behind the door, in an attempt, to cover his condition.

  Seeing his withdrawal, she stepped back, unsure.

  “Tara, wait! Please.” His reached out, but his hand hit the screen and it banged against the frame.

  She hesitated, her eyes meeting his.

  He sighed. The damn woman was like a seesaw, up and down, back and forth. First, he wanted to throttle her, now she looked vulnerable and he wanted to reassure her. And if he were completely honest, part of him wanted to scoop her up and kiss her. He inched the screen open with one hand, causing the rusty spring to squawk.

  Tara moved through the door, her eyes glued to his. “Thanks.”

  He gauged his words carefully. What was it about this woman that messed with him so much? Made him feel so unsure of himself. It wasn’t like him.

  As she moved into the room, her eyes darted across his chest and down to his boxers. Her eyes widened as she realized his state of mind, and her face flushed. She turned away, looking everywhere but at him, desperate for a safe place for her gaze to land.

  “I’m just going to grab some pants.” He pointed toward the bedroom, taking one hesitant step in that direction, while his other hand reached out, as if to put her on hold.

  She bobbed her head once in understanding, then glanced away.

  When Justin returned to the room, Tara had regrouped. She stood in the kitchen surveying the dilapidated, broken-down room.

  A little disappointed that the moment between them was lost, Justin scratched his head. “Pretty ugly kitchen isn’t it?”

  “Hmm.” She opened the back door to peer at the fridge on the back porch. “I could help you with this, you know. I’ve got a sink base and sink in the back of the shop, and we could knock that wall down to make room for your fridge.” She tapped along the back wall looking for a stud in the wall. “I’ve probably got enough old cabinets around to—”

  He crossed the kitchen to close the back door. “Thanks, Tara, but I plan a full remodel. Don’t worry about it.”

  She shrugged in response and an uncomfortable silence stretched across the room.

  “I assume you didn’t come by at—” He glanced at the clock on the back of the yellow stove, the only part of the appliance that worked. “Six forty-five, on Sunday morning to talk about my kitchen? Or the lack thereof.”

  She shrugged again. “Let me know if you change your mind.” She turned her back and wandered into the living room.

  He followed. “Look, I’m sure you know what you’re doing, and I’m sorry about yesterday. Obviously, we have a problem that we need to talk about.”

  Tara’s eyes met his and he smiled a bit too wide. She sighed and flopped into one of the plastic-resin dining chairs he’d bought from her boutique. “I know, I know.”

  Justin pulled up a chair across from her. “It would appear that we both believed we had a sure thing contract on the same resort.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, that was a bit of a shock.”

  He thought for a moment, then stood. “Let me start over.” Leaning across the table, he extended his hand toward her. “Hi, I’m Justin, and I just bought this sad little house. I came here to kick off my new business as a resort investor.”

  Her gaze flew from his hand to his face and she jumped up, her chair falling over backward.

  “You – you admit it then? You came here to build resorts?”

  He froze. “You say resort like it’s a dirty word.”

  “What makes you think we want you to stomp in here and tear down our town? Next thing you know, you’ll be bringing in a bunch of rich snooty people in fancy cars, to speed down our streets, and look down their noses at us.”

  Taken aback by her anger, he withdrew his hand.

  “And I bet you’ll make a pretty penny off all us hicks, won’t you?”

  He rubbed his palm across his head. “I plan to make a living, is that a crime?”

  Tara stomped to the door, pausing long enough to hiss over her shoulder as she yanked opened the screen. “The way you do it, it is!”

  Justin stood staring in amazement as the screen door slammed. His hands flew in the air. What just happened? She came here, I was mad, then I was turned on, she offered to remodel my kitchen, I introduced myself. The woman doesn’t make any sense!

  Chapter Five

  Tara ran home, her chest heaving. Investors are back, and they have their hands all over my town, my home, my projects. I can’t let everyone down. I have to find a way to make it stop!

  She reached the back door of the old house and stumbled into the kitchen. Winnie turned from the stove in surprise, her pancake turner poised in mid-air. “Lordy, child, what happened?”

  Tara collapsed onto a stool at the island, breathing hard.

  Winnie turned off the gas burner, snatched a paper towel from the dispenser, and pulled up a stool next to Tara. “Where have you been?” She held out the paper towel.

  “I – I went running.” Tara sniffed, fighting tears.

  “I can see that.”

  “Then – I went to see Justin.” She snatched the paper towel and blew her nose.

  Winnie waited, patting her arm.

  Tara sniffed, blinked back more tears, and turned to Winnie. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead broke down crying.

  The old woman was at a loss. Since the day she had demanded that Tara come with her, the girl had met the world head on and never said quit. Granted, she had been a solitary child, never one for hugs or kisses, even when her knees were scraped, but she was a sweet, loving girl, and not one to cry over nothing.

  Tara croaked, cleared her throat and started again. “I’ve let you all down.” A fresh fit of sobbing ensued.

  Winnie’s hand froze in mid-air. “Let us down? How on earth have you let us down?”

  Tara flung her elbows onto the counter and buried her face in her arms. Her back shook as she cried.

  Winnie’s forehead crinkled. “Tara, honey, talk to me. You haven’t done a thing to let me down. You never have. You’re a wonderful girl, and I thank the good Lord for you every day.” Finally, in desperation, she gripped Tara’s shoulder, forcing the weeping girl to sit up.

  Tara rubbed at her eyes and blew her nose into the crumpled paper towel. “Oh, Winnie.” She glanced around the kitchen, not seeing the many improvements she and Winnie had made through the years, but terrified that somehow the warm, bright kitchen would revert to the dank, outdated room it had been when she was a child.

  Winnie wanted to understand but was hesitant to start Tara off again. “Honey, what did Justin say?”

  A wild look entered Tara’s eyes, and alarm bells rang in the back of Winnie’s mind. Before she could speak up, Tara blurted into her thoughts.

  “I was going to talk about the resort. But Winnie, he was, he stood there in – he was wearing these boxers – his chest was j
ust – and he…”

  Winnie jumped up from her stool. “Did that man hurt you?! Did—”

  Tara grabbed Winnie’s arm. “No! No, he didn’t do anything. Well I mean, he did, but he didn’t really do it! Oh…” Her head flopped back onto her arms.

  Winnie was truly distressed at this point. She reached behind her to untie her apron, her hands trembling too much to untie the knot. “Tara Jean, you sit up this moment and tell me exactly what happened, or I will call the sheriff!” She moved toward the phone on the wall, yanking at her apron.

  Tara’s head sprang up -- her eyes wide with mixed emotions, and a deep blush marking her face and neck. “No Winnie, he answered the door, cuz I knocked so loud it probably scared him to death. And I wasn’t myself. I mean, I couldn’t talk. He stood there in his boxers, cuz I woke him up, and I didn’t know what to say all of a sudden. My stomach just kind of…”

  Winnie paused, forcing herself to take a deep breath, and sat back down on the edge of her stool to let Tara finish.

  “And he looked at me, with his hair all sticking up.” Tara’s vision wandered off and her expression softened. “He was all warm like and… and I mean he looked at me. It was so weird – I just stood there and my stomach did this thing…” Heat flushed her face.

  Winnie relaxed. “Thank God.”

  “What?”

  “Just continue, dear.”

  “Well… he invited me in, he was like, you know, mad cuz of the resort thing, and I was sad that he was mad at me cuz –why was I sad, Winnie?” She stared at Winnie in confusion, then shook her head. “Anyway, my stomach was all fluttery, like I was sick but not, and then I noticed that he…” Tara paused, her blush deepened. “He… had…” she waved her hand in a circle over her lap, her eyes never leaving Winnie’s. “I’ve seen that before, of course, but this time I—I felt…”