Marin Thomas - Homeward Bound

“A better offer? You’re kidding.” Yep. The hint of desperation in his voice convinced her that he was harboring a secret. “Heather…you are joking, aren’t you?”

“I’m not ready to sell.”

“The store isn’t a game or a toy you can toss aside when you’re tired of playing around.”

“I never thought of the business as a toy.”

“C’mon, Heather.”

“Decline the offer.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back. Change her mind. Run for cover. There was no guarantee she’d even find the answers she sought, and if she did…could she handle the truth?

“Haven’t I always looked out for your best interests?”

“Whether you approve or not, Royce, I’m coming home.”

Returning to Nowhere might prove to be the most rash, absurd, worst decision she’d ever made in her life—so far. But once she gave voice to her plan, a sense of peace filled her.

“You’re not dropping out of college. Christ, Heather. You’re too close to getting a degree to quit now.”

“What makes you think I won’t get my degree?”

“Heather—”

“Listen up, buckaroo. I’ve managed to stay in college and not drop out. I’ve managed a B average in all my classes—and that’s a lot of classes over seven years. I’ve managed to work several different part-time jobs to help support me while in school. I’ve managed—”

“Stop.” His shout startled Heather into silence. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he added in a quieter voice. “But managing a business, an almost bankrupt business, is a lot of responsibility.”

She admitted that he had every right to believe she’d run when the going got tough. She’d done plenty of running in the past. Well, actions spoke louder than words. She was through running.

Proving she could oversee the store would be the first step in earning his respect. And for some reason, she yearned for Royce’s respect. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve made up my mind.”

A burst of pure, sweet rebellion broke free inside her, and she reveled in the exhilarating sensation. She unknotted the towel over her breasts and flung it across the room. Stark naked, chin high, she faced her adversary…through the cell phone signal. “It’s time I, not you, decide what’s best for me.”

“Heather. Stay put.”

“Goodbye, Royce.”

“I’m warning you, Heather—”

She flipped the phone shut, cutting him off in mid threat. After returning to the bathroom, she finished her shower, then shimmied into a pair of sparkling purple panties and a matching bra. She tingled with excitement and fear. Dealing with the feed store on her own terms would help her put the past to rest and determine her future—with or without Royce.

Monday she’d visit her professors and explain about her father’s death and her wish to settle his estate. She was positive they’d allow her to complete her courses by correspondence. Tomorrow, she’d quit her job at the law library and put an ad in the paper to sublet the house. If all went well, she’d return to Nowhere by the first week of June.

Now, if she could only figure out how to save her father’s business. An idea started to form. If she used psychological profiles to chart the wants and needs of customers…Later tonight, after returning from the graduation party, she’d sit down and draw up a business plan.

“OH, MY! What is such a handsome devil doing in the middle of Nowhere?” The Marilyn Monroe look-alike’s sultry voice drifted over Heather’s bus seat, startling her like a slap to the back of the head.

Leaning forward, she peered around the gray-haired granny she’d shared the trip with from College Station to Nowhere. The little old lady continued to snore, oblivious to the Greyhound’s turn into the almost-empty church lot.

Holy cow. Heather’s thoughts echoed Marilyn Monroe’s sentiments. She stared at the lone male leaning against a black Dodge four-by-four pickup. The vehicle was big and menacing and familiar.

So was the man.

Eight days had passed since she’d informed Royce of her plan to return to Nowhere and run the feed store. She hadn’t expected to find him waiting for her bus in the middle of a Thursday afternoon. She’d intended to arrive in town without anyone the wiser. She swallowed back a sigh. Some things never changed—like “the mayor” knowing her every move…even before she did.

Tall, broad and dark, he resembled a bad-boy more than a rancher. He wore scuffed cowboy boots, a black T-shirt tucked into tight, faded button-fly jeans and the same battered Stetson, with the brim tilted low over his forehead to block the late-afternoon sun.

Good heavens, the man was a looker. The driver swung the bus in a wide arc until the front end faced the street. Her attention remained on the lone figure by the truck. His powerful physique lent him an air of authority. Not that he needed an air. He came by his demanding, bossy nature naturally.

When the bus stopped, she slipped her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her backpack from under the seat in front of her. She was the only fool getting off in Nowhere.

Marilyn Monroe smacked her gum. “Go get him, honey.”

Heather’s heart thumped. But it had nothing to do with the rancher’s sex appeal and everything to do with his temper. With steady steps she made her way to the front of the bus, her fingernails sinking like talons into the cushioned seat backs.

You shouldn’t have hung up on him.

A tiny voice in her head insisted it wasn’t too late to turn back, reclaim her seat and ride to the next town, to forget proving anything to anyone. Royce would finally be able to wash his hands of her, and she’d never have to set foot in Nowhere again.

Stupidly, she ignored the voice.

No matter how afraid she was of the answer, she couldn’t walk away from the chance to finally learn why Royce had ended their relationship before it had even had a chance to get off the ground.

And while she was unearthing the past, she might as well show the good folks of Nowhere that Heather Henderson had changed for the better. As she neared the door she cringed inwardly. You’re in for the fight of your life.

When her shoes hit the pavement, a gust of hot wind smacked her in the face and blasted her loose hair six inches in the air. Her legs jiggled like cooked noodles, and she locked her knees, refusing to appear weak in front of her nemesis. She shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare while the driver unloaded the two suitcases and two boxes of college mementos she’d brought home with her.

A bead of perspiration trickled between her breasts. Royce’s relaxed pose didn’t fool her. He’s ticked. Obviously, she wouldn’t be receiving a warm mayoral welcome and the key to the city.

The bus driver shut and locked the storage door. “Have a nice stay, ma’am.”

She mumbled a quick thank-you. A second later, the motor coach shifted gear, belched a cloud of black exhaust and drove off leaving…

Her.

And him.

And the sweltering June heat.

He wore mirrored shades, but a sixth sense told her he looked her straight in the eye.

In one smooth motion, he removed the glasses. From fifteen feet away his hot brown glare threatened to melt her. If he were any closer, she’d burst into flames.

“Heather.”

Oh, man. He was more than ticked. His lips hadn’t moved when he spoke.

She lifted her chin. “Royce.”

“I thought I told you to stay put.”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and wiggled in indignation. “You should realize by now I don’t listen too well.”

He rubbed a hand across his brow, and Heather almost felt sorry for him.

“You’re bound and determined to take the store on?”