Sherryl Woods - The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride

Harlan Patrick pulled into a circular driveway just as a fancy sports car shot out the other side. One car remained in front of the house, a minivan with a child’s seat in the back and toys scattered on the floor. He doubted it belonged to Mr. Nick Sanducci.

He strolled through the front door and wandered into a reception room that had obviously once been the house’s living room. The walls were decorated with gold records and photos of a half dozen of the hottest names in country music, including a blowup of Laurie that could make a man’s knees weak. That wall of photos and records was the only testament to the nature of Mr. Sanducci’s business, however.

Harlan Patrick had to admit the man had excellent taste. The place was crammed with exquisite, expensive antiques. There were some just as valuable up in Grandpa Harlan’s attic, where they’d been stored after Janet had gone through and turned White Pines from a hands-off showplace into a home.

The reception desk was neat as a pin and, with no one seated at the chair behind it, more temptation than he could resist. He edged a little closer, noting that the desk belonged to one Ruby Steel, according to the nameplate that was half-buried in a stack of papers.

He surveyed the rest of the desk with interest. That big old Rolodex probably had phone numbers on it that could do him a whole lot of good. And that bulging desk calendar probably contained all sorts of concert dates, including Laurie’s.

He was about to make a grab for it when a lazy, sultry voice inquired with just a touch of frost, “Can I help you?”

He turned slowly and offered the sort of grin that had gotten him out of many a scrape over the years, at least if there was a female involved. Ruby was young enough to look susceptible, but her frown never wavered. Obviously a woman who took her last name—Steel—to heart.

“Hey, darlin’, I was just wondering where you’d gone off to.”

“And you thought you’d find me under the desk?” She gave him a thorough once-over that could have served her well at a police lineup. “Let me guess. You’re the one who called wanting to book Laurie Jensen.”

He could have lied, probably should have, but something told him the truth would get him what he needed a whole lot faster.

“You’ve got a good ear for voices, sugar.”

“And I’ve got the good sense not to go giving out information to strangers,” she said in a tone that warned him not to waste his time trying to wheedle anything out of her.

Harlan Patrick was undaunted. He pretended he hadn’t been close enough to discover the nameplate and asked, “What’s your name, sugar?”

“My name’s Ruby, cowboy, and there’s no need telling me yours, because it doesn’t matter. I can’t help you.”

His gaze narrowed at that. Something told him that Laurie had given this woman very clear and specific instructions where he was concerned.

“Now, why is that? Aren’t you in the business of getting work for your clients?”

“Nick is. My job is protecting them.”

“Then maybe I ought to talk to Nick.”

“You can’t. He’s gone.”

The fancy sports car, Harlan Patrick concluded. “When will he be back?”

“Hard to say. Nick’s unpredictable.”

“Tonight?”

“I doubt it.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Possibly. Then again, he could get a call from one of his clients and have to take off in the middle of the night.”

Harlan Patrick hid a grin. Ruby was tough, all right. “How often does that happen?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to go out for a drink?”

She waved her left hand under his nose. A wedding ring and diamond flashed past. “I don’t think so, cowboy. And you could get me drunk as a skunk and I still wouldn’t tell you how to find Laurie.”

“Because she told you not to,” he guessed aloud.

Ruby hesitated for just an instant, then nodded. “Because she told me not to and because I protect the privacy of all our clients. I value their trust.”

“What if I told you I was her old childhood sweetheart?”

“I’d ask how come she left you behind if you were all that special.”

The barb hit its mark. “Now, darlin’, that is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “You know, don’t you?”

For the first time, little Miss Ruby squirmed. “Know what?”

“That I’m the daddy of that baby of hers.”

“I don’t know any such thing,” she retorted, but there was a telltale flush in her cheeks.

He kept right on. “And you don’t believe that a daddy should be separated from his child, do you, Ruby?” He recalled the baby seat in the van outside. “You’re a mama yourself. You disapprove of what Laurie’s done to me. I could see it in the way the corners of your mouth turned down when I mentioned that baby.”

She ducked her head. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Because your duty’s to Laurie.”

Her chin came up, and she shot a defiant look straight at him. “Exactly.”

They stood there, facing each other, neither of them saying a word, until finally Harlan Patrick sighed.

“Would it matter if I told you I love her?”

Her expression softened. “It might to me, but I’m not the one who needs convincing, am I?”

He grinned. “No, but you are the one who stands between me and her.”

She grinned back. “You are a sneaky, persistent devil—I’ll give you that.”

Harlan Patrick felt a faint stirring of hope. “Will you help me, Ruby?”

Still smiling, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “No. Now, scoot along out of here, cowboy. I’m closing for the day.”

“I’ll be back in the morning,” he promised, taking the defeat with good grace. Ranting and raving wouldn’t work with a woman like Ruby, but he had a hunch that he could wear her down with charm and a few more reminiscences about the old days he’d shared with Laurie.

“Suit yourself, but the answer won’t be one bit different tomorrow.”

“We’ll see,” he said, and tipped his hat. “It’s been my pleasure, darlin’.”

She gave him a stern, no-nonsense look. “I can’t imagine why. You look like a man who’s all too used to getting his own way.”

He winked. “I am. That’s why it’s fascinating to run into a worthy challenge every now and again.”

He slipped out the door before she could respond to that. He drove down the block and parked around the corner. He didn’t doubt for an instant that Ruby would be on the phone to Laurie the moment he was out of sight.

And the moment Ruby was gone for the night, he intended to sneak back into the office, punch Redial and discover for himself exactly where Laurie Jensen was holed up with his baby girl.

Going back into Nick Sanducci’s office and checking the phone had been a good idea. Maybe even a great idea, Harlan Patrick thought ruefully. Unfortunately Ruby was either on to him and hadn’t used the office phone to call Laurie or had simply made another call after that. He’d managed to slip back into the building easily enough—the locks were downright pitiful—but when he’d pressed the Redial button, a very cranky man had growled hello, then slammed the phone down when Harlan Patrick had been too stunned and disappointed to speak.

His reaction proved what a lousy detective he’d make. Only afterward had he considered all the possible explanations for who that man might have been. It could have been someone answering for Laurie herself. Or it could have been her agent, Nick Sanducci, he concluded belatedly, regretting his silence. But even if it was the illustrious, high-powered agent, he was clearly in no mood to indulge Harlan Patrick’s request for information about Laurie. He resigned himself to waiting for morning and another round with Ruby.