shewere about to blow a gasket. Apparently Harlan Adams was unaware that she’d left Houston because another domineering man—her father—had been intent on taking over her life and making all of her decisions for her.
“Mr. Adams,” she began, her chin lifting defiantly.
“Harlan, young lady. I thought we’d settled that.”
“Mr. Adams,” she repeated just as firmly. “After Willetta moves out and I have a chance to go over the space more thoroughly, I will decide what needs to be done. Then I will make arrangements for the workmen. And I will pay for it.”
Rather than being incensed by her declaration, Harlan let out a whoop of laughter. “Oh, you’re a fiery one, aren’t you? That’s good.” He went right on as if she hadn’t just made her wishes perfectly clear. “Hardy, you’re handy with a hammer and a saw, aren’t you?”
“I suppose,” he said, finally getting the full picture. “But I’m working for Cody with the cattle, sir. I can’t just pick up and take off for however long it takes to get the store ready.”
“You can if I say you can,” Harlan Adams countered. “Old age still has some privileges around here.” He frowned at Trish. “You got any objections to Hardy doing the work?”
Hardy could see her struggling with her reply. She was obviously torn between diplomacy and indignation, between practicality and a desire to keep Hardy at arm’s length.
“None,” she finally said with evident frustration.
“Good. That’s settled then. Willetta will be out by the end of the week. I’ll speak to Cody. You can start work down at the store on Monday, Hardy. Does that suit you, Trish?”
Looking as if she were surprised to be consulted, Trish responded tightly, “That will be fine.”
“You just tell Hardy whatever you need, and he’ll take care of it,” Harlan said. “The bills will come to me.”
“Absolutely not,” Trish said forcefully. “These are my renovations.”
“To my property,” Harlan countered evenly.
Their gazes clashed, though Hardy was pretty sure he detected more humor than fire in the old man’s. Hardy grinned at Trish.
“Give in gracefully,” he advised. “You can’t win.”
“I most certainly can,” she said, frowning at him. She turned back to Harlan. “If you insist on having your way on everything, I’m afraid this won’t work out.”
Harlan looked vaguely startled by the declaration, then held up the paper she’d just sighed. “We have a contract.”
Her gaze met his evenly. “With an escape clause,” she reminded him. “All it takes is a letter from me and the deal’s off.” She reached for pen and paper. “I can write it right now, if need be.”
Harlan chuckled. “Okay, you can have it your way. You pay the bills.”
Trish looked pleased with the victory, but Hardyhad the distinct impression Harlan would have the last laugh. He suspected the bills would come in, just as she’d asked, but that not a one of them would reflect the market value of the purchases. He could hardly wait to see the fireworks when Trish received the first one.
Harlan stood up, walked over to the sideboard and picked up the pot of coffee sitting there. He had barely poured himself a cup, when Janet walked into the room.
“I saw that,” she said, sliding the cup out of his reach.
“Woman, don’t you have someplace to be?”
“Not since you made me give up my law practice so we could share our golden years,” she replied sweetly.
“What’s golden about ’em when a man can’t even get a decent cup of coffee?” he grumbled, but his gaze was warm as it rested on her face. Something in Hardy’s chest tightened just watching the two of them.
“I’d best be on my way,” Hardy said, suddenly needing to be out of the room and away from Trish, away from Laura and away from the kind of glowing, unconditional love he knew he’d never experience.
“Wait,” Trish said, drawing his gaze. “I’ll come with you, so we can make
“Mr. Adams,” she began, her chin lifting defiantly.
“Harlan, young lady. I thought we’d settled that.”
“Mr. Adams,” she repeated just as firmly. “After Willetta moves out and I have a chance to go over the space more thoroughly, I will decide what needs to be done. Then I will make arrangements for the workmen. And I will pay for it.”
Rather than being incensed by her declaration, Harlan let out a whoop of laughter. “Oh, you’re a fiery one, aren’t you? That’s good.” He went right on as if she hadn’t just made her wishes perfectly clear. “Hardy, you’re handy with a hammer and a saw, aren’t you?”
“I suppose,” he said, finally getting the full picture. “But I’m working for Cody with the cattle, sir. I can’t just pick up and take off for however long it takes to get the store ready.”
“You can if I say you can,” Harlan Adams countered. “Old age still has some privileges around here.” He frowned at Trish. “You got any objections to Hardy doing the work?”
Hardy could see her struggling with her reply. She was obviously torn between diplomacy and indignation, between practicality and a desire to keep Hardy at arm’s length.
“None,” she finally said with evident frustration.
“Good. That’s settled then. Willetta will be out by the end of the week. I’ll speak to Cody. You can start work down at the store on Monday, Hardy. Does that suit you, Trish?”
Looking as if she were surprised to be consulted, Trish responded tightly, “That will be fine.”
“You just tell Hardy whatever you need, and he’ll take care of it,” Harlan said. “The bills will come to me.”
“Absolutely not,” Trish said forcefully. “These are my renovations.”
“To my property,” Harlan countered evenly.
Their gazes clashed, though Hardy was pretty sure he detected more humor than fire in the old man’s. Hardy grinned at Trish.
“Give in gracefully,” he advised. “You can’t win.”
“I most certainly can,” she said, frowning at him. She turned back to Harlan. “If you insist on having your way on everything, I’m afraid this won’t work out.”
Harlan looked vaguely startled by the declaration, then held up the paper she’d just sighed. “We have a contract.”
Her gaze met his evenly. “With an escape clause,” she reminded him. “All it takes is a letter from me and the deal’s off.” She reached for pen and paper. “I can write it right now, if need be.”
Harlan chuckled. “Okay, you can have it your way. You pay the bills.”
Trish looked pleased with the victory, but Hardyhad the distinct impression Harlan would have the last laugh. He suspected the bills would come in, just as she’d asked, but that not a one of them would reflect the market value of the purchases. He could hardly wait to see the fireworks when Trish received the first one.
Harlan stood up, walked over to the sideboard and picked up the pot of coffee sitting there. He had barely poured himself a cup, when Janet walked into the room.
“I saw that,” she said, sliding the cup out of his reach.
“Woman, don’t you have someplace to be?”
“Not since you made me give up my law practice so we could share our golden years,” she replied sweetly.
“What’s golden about ’em when a man can’t even get a decent cup of coffee?” he grumbled, but his gaze was warm as it rested on her face. Something in Hardy’s chest tightened just watching the two of them.
“I’d best be on my way,” Hardy said, suddenly needing to be out of the room and away from Trish, away from Laura and away from the kind of glowing, unconditional love he knew he’d never experience.
“Wait,” Trish said, drawing his gaze. “I’ll come with you, so we can make
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