Barbara Dunlop - An Intimate Bargain

“Nobody gets to Abby unless they go through me,” Travis stated.

From the entry hall, Abigail could picture her brother’s square shoulders, his wide stance, the hard line of his chin. He was endearingly, if unnecessarily, protective. She pushed down the door latch with her thumb and silently opened the door.

The unknown man’s voice came from around the corner, inside the big living room. “Craig Mountain’s new usage will be negligible in the scheme of things.”

“And what better way to set precedent?” Travis responded. “You’re the thin edge of the wedge.”

“I’m brewing beer, not setting precedent. It’s one little underground spring.”

“It’s still part of the aquifer.”

Abigail dropped her hat on a peg by the door and raked back her damp, dusty hair. Her ponytail was definitely the worse for wear. Then again, so were her dirty hands and her sweaty clothes. But she was back on the ranch now. And she wasn’t looking to impress anyone. So who cared?

During the local-water-rights hearings a few months ago, she’d listened to every argument in the book. It wouldn’t take her long to send this guy packing.

She rounded the corner. “Hey, Travis.”

Her brother scowled.

The broad-shouldered man in the expensive business suit pivoted to face her.

As he did, she went stock-still. Her stomach plummeted to her toes, while waves of sound roared in her ears. “Lucky?”

His dark eyes widened.

“Lucky what?” asked Travis, glancing from one to the other.

Abigail’s brain stumbled, and an exaggerated second slipped by. “Lucky I got here when I did,” she managed to say on a hollow laugh.

Where on earth had he come from? What was he doing standing here arguing with her brother?

Before she could formulate any kind of question, Lucky stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Zach Rainer. You must be Abigail. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Mr. Rainer was just leaving,” Travis put in with finality.

“I own the Craig Mountain Brewery,” Zach continued, his voice betraying none of the recognition evident in his expression.

“I…uh…” Her throat closed over. “I’m Abigail,” she managed to rasp, giving his hand a perfunctory shake. The sizzle of his brief touch ricocheted up her arm.

“Then you’re the woman I’m here to see. I understand you have some expertise on the regional-water-rights issue.”

Travis stepped forward. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

“I’d like to talk to Abigail.”

“But Abigail wouldn’t like to talk to you.”

“I think Abigail can speak for herself.” Lucky raised his brow.

She struggled to shake off the shock. So far, he was keeping their night a secret. Although she had to find out what he was up to, and quickly.

“It’s okay, Travis,” she said with a quick glance to her brother.

“No, it’s not okay. He doesn’t get to waltz in here and-”

“I’m not out to harm you.” Though Lucky was responding to Travis, he kept his gaze fixed on Abigail.

“You’re a liar,” said Travis.

Abigail agreed with her brother. Lucky’s being here couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. Had he set her up from the very beginning? A wave of disappointment and humiliation washed over her.

“I’m not lying,” said Lucky.

The odds were overwhelming that he was lying through his teeth, but one thing was sure, she needed to talk to him alone. Bad enough that she’d slept with him, but in the wee hours of the morning she’d also confessed embarrassing secrets. She’d told him how badly she wanted a career in business, that she didn’t want to work with her brother on the ranch. She’d said some things that, in retrospect, were downright disloyal.

“It’ll be fine,” she assured Travis in the calmest voice she could muster.

“You don’t need to be polite,” Travis pointed out. “This guy’s the enemy.”

Lucky heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I’m a grown woman.” Abigail was firm. “I think I can decide who to talk to.”

“Don’t start with me,” said Travis.

“Can we step outside?” asked Lucky, taking a step toward the door.

Travis barged between the two, facing Lucky, his back to Abigail. “Leave,” he commanded.

“Travis,” she said from between clenched teeth. “You have to back off.”

“No.”

“We’re only going to talk.”

He rounded on her. “I don’t understand. Why would you give this jerk the time of day?”

“I’m giving him five minutes.”

Travis spread his arms in obvious frustration. “I’ve already given him ten.”

Fine, Abigail was frustrated, too. When Travis got like this, there was no point in arguing with him. But she didn’t dare give in, not until she knew what Lucky was up to. She held her palms up in surrender and took a backward step, then another, and another.

When she was clear, she turned for the door, stomping her way outside, assuming Lucky-no, Zach -would have sense enough to follow. Her brother was a tough, intimidating man. But Zach seemed as if he could hold his own. And she was hoping against hope they were too civilized to engaged in a fistfight in the living room.

She banged her way through the front doorway, stomped across the porch, down onto the gravel driveway, taking a few steps out onto the turnaround. She pushed back her hair, acutely aware of her disheveled appearance.

She shouldn’t care. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. Zach had seen her at her best last week, dressed up for the party. Okay, so he’d also seen her naked. But she didn’t think she looked that bad naked.

Right now her shirt was wrinkled and covered in grit. She was pretty sure there were dust streaks marring her face. Her hair looked like something out of a horror flick. And she smelled like the rear end of a heifer.

“Abigail?” came Zach’s voice, followed by his swift footsteps crunching on the gravel.

She squared her shoulders and turned to face him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked shortly.

“I need your help.” He came to a halt a few feet away.

“No. I mean, what are you doing here? ”

“I don’t get the distinction.”

“How did you find me? Did you know who I was all along?” She feared she already knew the answer, but she wanted him to admit it out loud.

“I didn’t find you. I didn’t even know who you were.”

“Right,” she scoffed. He had to have targeted her from minute one. She could only imagine he’d been laughing at her all night long.

“I didn’t know your name,” he insisted with remarkable sincerity. “I met Doll-Face. I liked Doll-Face.” He paused, and an emotion flicked through his eyes. “Why wouldn’t you tell me your name?”

“Apparently I didn’t need to.”

“I didn’t know your name,” he repeated. “It was only later I heard that Abigail Jacobs was the best person to help me with the water license. I put those two things together exactly two minutes ago.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Had she come across as completely stupid and gullible? What a depressing thought.

“Yes, I expect you to believe me.”

“I believed you were leaving town,” she challenged. “That was a week ago, Zach. You haven’t left town.”

“I told you I was passing through.”

“What kind of play on semantics is that?”

“I am passing through.”

“You set me up from the start.” There was no other explanation.

He spread his legs, firming his stance. “I did not know who you were that night.”

“Bull.”

“I didn’t. If I had…” He paused. “Hell, I don’t know what I would have done if I had. That night was pretty great.”