Amanda Renee - A Texan for Hire

Downstairs, she told Mazie she was going out for the evening. Mazie said she’d look in on Duffy and take him for a walk if Abby was gone for more than a few hours. Mazie’s devotion to her pet guests more than justified the higher cost of staying at the Bed & Biscuit, in Abby’s opinion. Many hotels didn’t take pets and fewer offered dog-walking services.

Abby decided to wait for Clay on the Victorian’s expansive wraparound porch. White antique rocking chairs invited guests to relax among the fall flowers in various sized pots and hanging baskets decorating the porch’s perimeter. Serenity and intoxicating florals welcomed you to the Hill Country region of Texas the second you stepped out the door.

“You look very pretty, dear.”

Abby jumped at the sound of a woman’s voice. “You scared me.” Abby hadn’t noticed Janie Anderson, one of the inn’s employees, standing in the corner of the porch with a watering can in her hand. “And thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” The older woman continued to water the plants while she spoke. “You can get lost in Mazie’s jungle of flowers out here. I hear you have a date with our Mr. Tanner this evening.”

Well that didn’t take long to spread around. “I wouldn’t call it a date. We’re meeting over dinner to discuss my mysterious sister.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. Sounds exciting. I’m sorry I don’t remember your parents from back then. I even looked through some of my old photos last night. My husband, Alfred, is an avid hobby photographer and I swear we have stacks of photos from every parade and festival Ramblewood’s ever seen. Of course, I don’t know what I’m looking for, either, but you are more than welcome to look through whatever we have.”

“Really?” Maybe she’d find a photo of her parents, or one of her father and another child. “That’s very generous of you.”

“Any time you want to come over, you let me know. I can’t say my Alfred is the most organized man, but the photos are in some semblance of order.”

Abby couldn’t wait to tell Clay the exciting news. Maybe the newspaper archives would have something about her father, too, but she was certain Clay would look into that on his own. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to mention it.

A week ago, Ramblewood, Texas, hadn’t been a blip on her radar. She’d arrived in town so quickly she had a hard time distinguishing one day from the next. Now that she was here, thoughts she hadn’t considered complicated the situation.

Did her sister have a relationship with Walter? Did they see each other often? Maybe Abby wasn’t the only one he sent notes to. And maybe his yearly scavenger hunts weren’t just for her.

“Are you all right?” Janie motioned for Abby to sit in one of the rockers.

“I’m sorry.” She needed to escape her own head for a bit. She sat and Janie joined her. “I guess the reality of the situation is finally hitting me. To be honest, I thought it already had. I mean, the first big step was coming here, right? Then when I hired Clay, I thought that was the big step. In actuality, they’re all little steps to finding the truth. The idea of having a sister that I never knew of is very surreal.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re handling yourself beautifully,” Janie said.

“Thank you. When I first considered hiring an investigator I had my doubts anything would come of this. It was more wishful thinking, but when I was sitting in the Bark Park and then walking around town, I got this feeling—an indescribable draw that was telling me this is where I’m supposed to be.” Abby looked up to see Janie listening intently. “I must sound crazy, but in my heart, I know it’s only a matter of time before Clay finds the answers and then what? How do you make up for all that lost time?”

“You take it day by day, dear.” Janie rested her hand on Abby’s knee. “Don’t worry about what happens next. Concentrate on what you do know so you can find her.”

“I don’t mean to sound pitiful. I haven’t allowed myself to think about the end result, and it’s kind of hitting me all at once.”

“That’s normal,” Janie said. “I would say it’s part of the grieving process over your father, too. Allow yourself to feel, but don’t cross the line into dwelling on it.”

Abby knew Janie was right. Seeing patients with disabilities and traumatic injuries every day, she had learned to appreciate everything she had. One of her old professors used to say, “As long as you’re aboveground, there’s always a bright side.” Abby lived by those words. They were why she never allowed her patients to give up, even when they suffered a setback.

But one question had plagued Abby since she had received Walter’s note. Why would anyone keep her sister’s existence a secret?

* * *

CLAY PULLED HIS TRUCK into the Bed & Biscuit parking lot. He shut off the engine and sat with the keys in his hand. He swallowed drily. This was dinner to discuss Abby’s case, nothing more.

Then why did he need to keep reminding himself it wasn’t a date? Because he wanted it to be a date and that made him feel worse than his nerves did.

Clay was attracted to Abby more than he cared to admit. When her background check revealed she was a physical therapist, he’d been intrigued. He had figured her more the clothing-designer type. Or an art dealer, maybe. A physical therapist was completely unexpected.

He inhaled deeply in a vain attempt to steady his uneven pulse. Failing miserably, he climbed from his mud-caked truck, cursing himself for not washing it. He proceeded around to the front of the inn where Abby waited for him in one of the rocking chairs. The warmth of her smile was echoed in her eyes. She met him halfway down the stairs, and he once again wondered how she managed to remain upright in such high heels. She looked beautiful in an effortless way.

Clay hoped he had the sense to keep that opinion to himself. Abby was a client and he refused to cross that line.

You already have.

“Are you ready to go?” Clay’s voice broke. Abby’s eyes widened slightly, but fortunately she let it slide without comment. Clay hadn’t been remotely close to this nervous since the night he had proposed to Ana Rosa. A perpetual reminder that he couldn’t blur the lines between client and romance. Not that romance was on the table. He wouldn’t tarnish Ana Rosa’s memory by having a fling with Abby, or anyone else for that matter.

Abby faced the sidewalk. “Since it’s so beautiful out tonight, do you mind if we walk? It’s still beastly humid back home and I’m loving this Texas weather.”

“You want to walk to New China in those shoes?” Clay didn’t think she’d make it fifty feet, let alone all the way down Main Street.

“I assure you I’ll be fine. I’m quite capable of putting one foot in front of the other.”

“Don’t those things hurt your feet?” Clay opened the wrought-iron gate leading to the sidewalk and held it for Abby.

“Listen, I usually wear sneakers when I’m at work, and anything without a heel makes me feel like a twelve-year-old. Scratch that, most preteens are taller than I am. I wear heels so I can at least look like a grownup.”

“If you say so.” Clay found himself scrambling to keep up with her quick pace. “Are we race walking?”

Abby stopped and stared at him. “I’m sorry. I have to remind myself I’m not in a hurry to be anywhere while I’m here. My schedule is usually packed and I tend to run nonstop. I assume you completed my background search. Did I check out okay?”

Yes, you managed to check right into my every waking thought. “I was surprised to discover you’re a physical therapist.”

“What were you expecting...a personal shopper?” Abby teased. “Most people don’t peg me for a PT because of my size, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years working with my patients, the only limitations are within your heart. I may be small, but I can do anything I put my mind to.”