A Texan in Her Bed

“That’s a relief,” she said and he gave her a faint smile.

“Tell me about the murders. All I know is that Lavita’s father, a Milan and a Calhoun all were shot to death.”

Wyatt settled back, inhaled deeply and tried to get his wits about him. “All I’ve ever heard is that Lavita had two men in love with her—unfortunately, a Milan and a Calhoun. The feud had been in existence through at least two generations by then, so it was going strong and the two men did not speak to each other. The night of the shootings, they both called on her at the same time and neither would leave. She was upset. The men were angry and according to the old story, they were going to fight and pistols were drawn. Her father heard the argument, appeared and mixed in the struggle. Terrified what would happen, Lavita ran to get their stable keeper. As she rushed back to the house, shots were fired. According to the story, all three men were armed and had fired at each other, killing each other.”

“So far, that’s what I’ve been told.”

“Some stories say that, on her deathbed, Lavita admitted that one of the men was still alive and conscious when she returned to the house and told Lavita what happened before he died. At the time of the murders, she had stated they were all dead by the time she got back.”

“Couldn’t the stable keeper verify her story?”

Wyatt smiled. “Remember, this was the late 1800s and the story has been passed down by word of mouth since. According to the story, the stable keeper went to get his pistol and was far enough behind Lavita that all three men were dead when he arrived at the scene. The three men died that night, presumably shortly after the shooting. And Lavita never revealed anyone talked to her until she was on her deathbed. Until then, she claimed she didn’t know what had happened after she ran out of the house to get help.”

“If that’s the true story about what happened, it makes one wonder what she was told and why she hid it from the world. Nowadays, withholding information would put her behind bars.”

“Early-day justice may have been dispensed differently and hers was an influential family. If the legend is true, she may not have wanted the true story to come out because of the feud. The Calhouns and the Milans had a history of getting revenge.”

“This story holds possibilities for an interesting chapter in my next book.”

Wyatt wanted to groan. He had hoped to discourage her with the story, which he found vague and probably hearsay. “It all comes down to trying to find an old letter Lavita wrote that reveals the truth about that night.”

Destiny shifted in her seat, drawing his attention to her dress. The unique design left one shoulder bare. The other shoulder was covered by a short sleeve that had four buttons running down a center seam in the sleeve, so if unbuttoned, the front half of her dress would no longer be attached to the back half above the waist. The thought consumed him, distracting him from his story. He had to figuratively shake himself to get back on track.

“The letter has been rumored to be in the house,” he continued. “I’ve never heard a version that included the grounds as a possibility,” he added.

“Think there will be a bidding war on the property?”

“I don’t. You never know what might appeal to a developer, but that property is in the industrial part of Verity, small as that is. In my view, it’s far out for a likely shopping area. The town grew in all other directions. The house overlooks the cemetery on one side. The river runs behind it. Nearby is the airport and to the front is the highway. Not the greatest location. No one wanted the house and it was left to crumble.” He sat back and crossed his leg over the other at the knee.

“Now that you know about it—and there is little to tell you—I hope you’ll rethink using it on your show. The killings were long, long ago and of little interest,” he said, watching her closely.

“I simply think you’re trying to get rid of me,” she replied sweetly, her green eyes sparkling. “The deaths of the three men are an interesting puzzle, plus the feud between two of them, two families who have many descendants today, you included.”

“I suppose only the ratings will indicate which of us is right. There are far more intriguing unsolved mysteries in Texas. Come by the office and you can look at a list. It would be nice for all the residents if you would move on down the road.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I have a quiet, peaceful, pleasant town. The biggest problems this past year have been getting the Dixons’ cat out of their chimney and getting Doc Lamon’s dock back after it collapsed in a storm and floated downriver.”

“When I talked to the group that gathered today, they were curious, interested and very friendly.”

“They were curious, interested and friendly because you’re a stunning, sexy woman. They were curious about you, not the old Wrenville place.”

“Thank you. But I didn’t get the feeling from any of them that someone would prefer that I didn’t put Lavita Wrenville’s story on my show. Did it occur to you that you might be wrong?”

“I know my town pretty well. I don’t think I’m wrong,” he said, knowing their quiet clash grew stronger and neither changed the other’s opinion. “Today was a bunch of men who wanted to see you and talk to you. Wait until the women are involved and you’re in Chicago and the results of your visit are right here in Verity for the locals to deal with. They won’t be so happy or so cooperative, especially if you stir up that Milan-Calhoun feud.”

“Have you always been right?”

“No, but I’m right often enough that I trust my own judgment.”

She laughed and in spite of their steady battle, her stubborn refusal to leave Verity, her flagrant disregard for law in Verity, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and make love to her.

“It doesn’t bother you that you’re going to upset a whole town?”

“Of course it would bother me if I thought that would happen.” She gave him an assessing look out of the corner of her eye. “It must be wonderful to feel you’re always right.”

He stifled a laugh and a retort

“Come by the office and look at that list of other unsolved Texas murders,” he said, eliciting a smile from her. It seemed they had once again agreed to disagree.

Needing a break from his tenacious but beautiful opponent, he picked up the phone to confer with Jason on the arrival time. When he got his answer, he should have simply turned to look out the window but his eyes lit on Destiny instead. “No wedding ring,” he observed. “So you’re single.”

“Definitely. There’s no special man in my life at the moment.”

“I’m glad to hear that since I’m taking you out.”

“This wouldn’t count anyway. You’re taking me out to tell me about Lavita Wrenville and the unsolved murders. This is a business evening.”

He leaned close again, placing his hands on the arms of her seat to hem her in while they gazed into each other’s eyes. “There is no way this evening will be a business trip. The closest we’ll come is the conversation we just had, and now I’ve finished giving you the Wrenville history. I’ve been looking forward to tonight all afternoon long.”

“You want me to pack and return to Chicago and then you tell me you’ve been wanting to go out with me. That’s contradictory,” she said.

“My feelings are contradictory. You’re a complication in my quiet life,” he said, gazing into her big, green eyes that threatened to make him tell her to do whatever she wanted in Verity.

“A few complications in life sometimes make it more interesting. You’ll be able to handle this one, I’m sure.”

“I can’t wait,” he said, his heart drumming. He knew she wasn’t going to leave quietly and she would be a constant challenge to him. The most enticing challenge he had ever had in his life.

* * *

As Destiny walked to a waiting limo, Wyatt took her arm and in minutes they were headed into downtown Dallas. Wyatt sat across from her, looking totally relaxed, his booted foot resting on his other knee, his hand on the arm of the seat. In spite of all appearances of a relaxed man who cared nothing about the outcome of their discussion, she could feel an undercurrent between them. A clash of wills.

There were moments he flirted and set her heart racing. Other times, like now, he seemed remote. She couldn’t gauge her effect on him and it disturbed her because she was accustomed to red-blooded thirtysomething males succumbing to her charms or trying to charm her. Especially when she had flirted with them.

“Do you own the red limo?” he asked.

“No, I leased it for this trip. We flew to Dallas and picked it up there.”

“You always travel with this staff?”

She shook her head. “No. My assistant, Amy, works for me full-time since the success of my first book. Virginia Boyden, a camera operator—she’s a field operator who works for the show and her husband, Duke Boyden, is my chauffeur, whom I’ve known forever. He worked for my mom, so he’s like a relative. He drives for others, too. I hire him when I need him. I don’t travel like this as much for the show as for background for my next book.”

“Busy person, accustomed to getting what you want.”

“I think that description fits you best. You’re the oldest of your siblings, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, just the same as you are.”