all the others he does done well ahead of time,” he explained at the
older man’s questioning look.
“Ah, yes.” Herman nodded. “Now that you mention it, I remember Jonathan
saying something to that effect.” Jonathan was one of Herman’s three sons, the
other three obviously daughters. The man
was also one of Grant’s neighbors and a fellow rancher.
“He’s entering two of his classic cars into a
car show in Vegas,” Grant said. “Thinks
he might actually have a shot this year, given his biggest probable competition
will be home with his wife while she gives birth.”
“He’d better hope it’s the first born then;
odds are more in his favor that way. Second or third tend to show up a bit earlier than planned. Not always, of course, but the odds are
definitely there,” Herman said with a chuckle. “Ah, here it is.” Turning back to the counter, he slid the box of tools
across it.
Looking in, Grant picked up a couple and
nodded. “These are great, Herman,
practically as good as new,” he said with a grin. “Throw it on my tab and I’ll catch you when
you get back from your trip?” He made it
a question, since he didn’t know if that would be all right by the older
gentleman.
“Absolutely. You’re all caught up anyway,
well, except for the sharpening.” Herman laughed. “Catch me whenever you’re around next and the
shop’s open. I know you’re good for it.”
Picking up the box, he tucked it carefully
under his arm. Tipping his Stetson, he
thanked him, wished him well on his vacation again, and actually managed not to
flinch when Herman wished him a happy Valentine’s Day.
Shuddering once he knew he was out of view of
the shop, Grant shook his head. “Valentine’s Day, what a crock,” he muttered. Digging in his pocket, he made his way to his
truck. He still had about an hour before
he was meeting with Darrell, his accountant, so he’d grab a cup of coffee after
he tucked the newly sharpened tools away.
Looking up, he stalled in his tracks and did a
double-take. Stunned, he stared at the
very large gouge and dent in his driver side rear paneling. “Mother of God,” he whispered, with a definite
hint of a whimper in there for his baby.
Dropping the box of tools in the back of the
truck, he touched the paneling and really whimpered. “Oh, Lord, who the hell did this to you,
Matilda?” Looking over the rest of the truck, he spotted the note. Well, at least the asshole who couldn’t drive had the decency to leave a note. Grant hoped he’d left his name, insurance information and a phone number
so Grant could track him down and tear him a new one.
Pulling it free of the windshield wiper he
flipped it open and cursed. Crushing it
in his hand, he looked up the street to the quaint little boutique the culprit
owned. “Jacqueline fucking Hunter, your
ass is grass, girl,” he said, almost growling the words. Pushing his cowboy hat more firmly onto his
head, he stormed up the street. He
didn’t care if she was the town’s darling, he was going to charbroil her sweet
little ass for what she’d done to Matilda.
Chapter
Two
Jackie had been having the worst morning of
her life. Valentine’s Day was less than
a week away, and she had to fend off yet another setup from one of her friends. She didn’t want to be set up, didn’t they get that? But oh, no, everyone
saw her as a single woman in Texas, heaven for-freaking-bid that she remain single. So far
this morning she had fended off three match-making attempts and one idiot who
brought her flowers and a ring, someone she didn’t even freaking know!
Gripping the steering wheel so hard her
knuckles were white, she spoke into her truck’s Bluetooth receiver. “Listen, Marilyn. I really appreciate you trying to ensure that
I don’t spend the rest of my life alone.” She was only thirty for the love of God! “But having Dale
older man’s questioning look.
“Ah, yes.” Herman nodded. “Now that you mention it, I remember Jonathan
saying something to that effect.” Jonathan was one of Herman’s three sons, the
other three obviously daughters. The man
was also one of Grant’s neighbors and a fellow rancher.
“He’s entering two of his classic cars into a
car show in Vegas,” Grant said. “Thinks
he might actually have a shot this year, given his biggest probable competition
will be home with his wife while she gives birth.”
“He’d better hope it’s the first born then;
odds are more in his favor that way. Second or third tend to show up a bit earlier than planned. Not always, of course, but the odds are
definitely there,” Herman said with a chuckle. “Ah, here it is.” Turning back to the counter, he slid the box of tools
across it.
Looking in, Grant picked up a couple and
nodded. “These are great, Herman,
practically as good as new,” he said with a grin. “Throw it on my tab and I’ll catch you when
you get back from your trip?” He made it
a question, since he didn’t know if that would be all right by the older
gentleman.
“Absolutely. You’re all caught up anyway,
well, except for the sharpening.” Herman laughed. “Catch me whenever you’re around next and the
shop’s open. I know you’re good for it.”
Picking up the box, he tucked it carefully
under his arm. Tipping his Stetson, he
thanked him, wished him well on his vacation again, and actually managed not to
flinch when Herman wished him a happy Valentine’s Day.
Shuddering once he knew he was out of view of
the shop, Grant shook his head. “Valentine’s Day, what a crock,” he muttered. Digging in his pocket, he made his way to his
truck. He still had about an hour before
he was meeting with Darrell, his accountant, so he’d grab a cup of coffee after
he tucked the newly sharpened tools away.
Looking up, he stalled in his tracks and did a
double-take. Stunned, he stared at the
very large gouge and dent in his driver side rear paneling. “Mother of God,” he whispered, with a definite
hint of a whimper in there for his baby.
Dropping the box of tools in the back of the
truck, he touched the paneling and really whimpered. “Oh, Lord, who the hell did this to you,
Matilda?” Looking over the rest of the truck, he spotted the note. Well, at least the asshole who couldn’t drive had the decency to leave a note. Grant hoped he’d left his name, insurance information and a phone number
so Grant could track him down and tear him a new one.
Pulling it free of the windshield wiper he
flipped it open and cursed. Crushing it
in his hand, he looked up the street to the quaint little boutique the culprit
owned. “Jacqueline fucking Hunter, your
ass is grass, girl,” he said, almost growling the words. Pushing his cowboy hat more firmly onto his
head, he stormed up the street. He
didn’t care if she was the town’s darling, he was going to charbroil her sweet
little ass for what she’d done to Matilda.
Chapter
Two
Jackie had been having the worst morning of
her life. Valentine’s Day was less than
a week away, and she had to fend off yet another setup from one of her friends. She didn’t want to be set up, didn’t they get that? But oh, no, everyone
saw her as a single woman in Texas, heaven for-freaking-bid that she remain single. So far
this morning she had fended off three match-making attempts and one idiot who
brought her flowers and a ring, someone she didn’t even freaking know!
Gripping the steering wheel so hard her
knuckles were white, she spoke into her truck’s Bluetooth receiver. “Listen, Marilyn. I really appreciate you trying to ensure that
I don’t spend the rest of my life alone.” She was only thirty for the love of God! “But having Dale
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