One Stubborn Texan

“I’m turned around,” Sydney confessed. “Where’s Main Street?”

“The north side of the square. The general store is on Main about three blocks east. Sure you don’t want some lunch before you get to work?”

There were several cute little restaurants with colorful awnings lining the square. Somewhere, someone was grilling meat and it smelled like heaven.

“Maybe something quick,” she said.

“How about a sausage on a stick? Best German sausage you’ll ever eat.”

“Okay.”

Russ led them to a little German deli, where he ordered two sausages to go. They took them to a bench on the square and sat. Sydney was glad Russ had brought lots of napkins. But despite the mess, she found it quite pleasant, sitting with the sun warming her face, sharing conversation with her host. He’d certainly thawed out. He hadn’t scowled at her once since he’d arrived at the B and B. Maybe his initial coolness was just a small-towner’s natural caution with strangers from the city.

She again wondered why he was going to the trouble of helping her out. Surely he wasn’t this accommodating to every stranger who arrived in Linhart.

It had to be the money. In her experience, money was the prime motivating factor in most people’s lives. Well, that and sex. And Russ…hmm. Was it possible he found her attractive? He’d certainly been watching her attentively. She’d made it clear she was leaving in a couple of days, but maybe he thought she would be up for some easy, no-strings sex. Living in a small town, it was probably impossible to have any kind of sexual liaison with another local, at least not without long-lasting repercussions.

Not that she ran around having casual sex right and left, but she did like the anonymity of the city. She certainly never ran into any of her ex-boyfriends—the city was just too damn big.

Well, just because she was from the city didn’t mean she was easy. If Russ had a quick roll in the hay in mind, he would be disappointed. Not that the idea was without merit. And not that she’d mind the flirtation while she was here.

“Linhart is really a very nice town,” she said.

“You sound surprised.”

“It’s a lot prettier than some of the other towns I’ve seen, that’s all.” Not that she’d seen all that many. She’d been to her father’s hometown south of Austin only once, but that was more than enough. Talk about depressing.

Sydney finished her sausage and her bottled water, cleaned her hands with a moist towelette and reapplied her lipstick. Russ watched this process with undisguised interest—and perhaps a little amusement.

He threw their trash away in a nearby litter bin. “Ready?”

She nodded, feeling the first curls of temptation in the pit of her stomach. She could hook up with Russ. What harm would it do? She’d had virtually no social life since her mother died; even most of her girlfriends had quit calling because they’d become tired of her turning down their invitations to dinner, movies and parties.

Though she spent a lot of time with her father, she was lonely. She and Russ were both consenting adults.

He raised one eyebrow in a look that told her he was reading her thoughts. And that was enough to bring her back to her senses. She had work to do, a last chance to save her father from himself. Besides, she really wasn’t the kind of woman who slept with strangers. As soon as she got back home, she would call some of her friends and initiate a few outings, maybe have dinner with the downstairs neighbor who’d invited her out a couple of times. Otherwise she would have to get a cat and start going by “Miss Sydney.”

Chapter Three

Russ couldn’t believe the mess the county records were in. There’d been a flood a few years ago and volunteers had carried the files out of the basement willy-nilly in boxes and stacks so they wouldn’t be destroyed. They’d returned the records to the basement after the flood, but nobody had bothered unpacking the boxes or refiling the records.

Gil Saunders, the county records clerk and a good friend, had shown Russ and Sydney to the basement. “Sometimes I can find things, if you know exactly what you’re looking for,” Gil told Sydney. “I’ve got some high-school kids lined up to help me get this mess organized, but they won’t start till next month.”

“I wish I could tell you exactly what I’m looking for. But I’m not sure. I just need to browse.”

“Have at it, then.”

When Sydney had gone to the ladies’ room, Russ had taken Gil aside and explained to him that it was important Sydney never locate any records having to do with him or his mother.

Gil, a real friend, didn’t even ask why. He quickly gathered up the few things he could lay his hands on—Russ’s mom’s business license and the deed to her little house—then took them to his office and hid them in a drawer. Unfortunately, that was all he could do. He couldn’t guarantee Sydney wouldn’t come across something in the old records, but the chances of her finding what she was looking for in this mess were minuscule.

Sydney, on the other hand, saw the basement as a personal challenge. “Just stand back and watch,” she said with a grin. “If there are pertinent records to be found in here, I’ll find them.”

She actually seemed to like groping around in the mildewed boxes and dusty drawers, and she did seem to have a knack for knowing which piles of records would yield Kleins.

Still, after almost four solid hours of this tedious, grimy work, broken only by frequent trips upstairs to check her cell phone, which didn’t get a signal in the basement, she’d found absolutely nothing that pointed to the Russ Klein she was looking for. Thank God.

She was clearly disappointed and Russ felt bad for her. Of course she would be disappointed, getting so close to a million-dollar commission she was unable to collect. He didn’t feel bad enough, however, to help her out.

In fact, he was probably doing her a favor. Everyone thought being an instant millionaire would give them a dream life. Russ had the personal experience to know it could just as easily ruin a life.

The sun was already setting as they exited the courthouse. “So what are your plans for tomorrow?” Russ asked as they headed back toward the bed-and-breakfast.

“I’m going to track down every Klein family in this area and talk to them personally,” she said. “Someone, somewhere, must have heard of this Winnie Klein.”

Russ cringed. Any person passing on the street had probably heard of Winnie. He needed to get Sydney Baines out of this town, somehow. Which gave him an idea.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. I have a little cabin not far from here. It’s just a hunting cabin in the woods, but there are a whole bunch of family papers stored there—boxes and boxes of photo albums and letters and I don’t know what all. You’re welcome to look through those. It’s possible the people you’re looking for moved out of the area. Or this Winifred person could have gotten married out of state, changed her name. Maybe you could uncover some clue.”

He could see that the idea appealed to her. But she hesitated. “I should talk to your mother. She might remember—”

“No, I wouldn’t waste your time there,” he said firmly. “Mom knows nothing about her family history. My grandparents were divorced and she never really knew anyone on the Klein side of the family.” All of which was true.

“Then who does this cabin belong to?”

“A cousin on my grandfather’s side.” Bert actually was a very distant cousin, if you went back about six generations. “I got to know him pretty well, and he gave me a key to the cabin.”

“You’re kind to offer to let me look, but I have some appointments tomorrow morning in Longbow and Conklin. More Russell Kleins. They’re all too old to be the heir I’m looking for, but they might have relations the right age. But if I still have no information by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll give your cabin a try.”

Good. Longbow and Conklin were nearby, but not close enough that the residents would know Winnie, not unless he was truly unlucky.

“I’ll be at the store whenever you’re ready to go.”

“If nothing turns up, I’ll come by around one o’clock.”

“And what about tonight? Any plans?”

“I’m going to wash all this grime off me, then I’m going to do some reading.”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted. If she spent the entire evening at home with the Milhaus sisters, Winnie’s name might easily come up.

He feigned shock. “What? You’re only here for a couple of days and you’re going to spend the evening reading?”

“What can I say? I don’t lead a very exciting life.”

“I could change that. Do you like to dance?”

“I’m not a good dancer,” she said warily.