That Mccloud Woman. Peggy Moreland

across the street. She was a petite little thing, fragile looking. The thick mane of white-blond hair that hung just past her shoulders only added to that fragility. She wore a long, sleeveless dress of the palest blue that hit her about midcalf. One of those shapeless dresses that didn’t offer a clue to the figure beneath. Thin-strapped sandals, though, exposed small, slender feet, and a hint that the rest of her might be similarly proportioned.

      With her chin dipped down, he didn’t have a clear view of her face, but he couldn’t help but notice the way she walked—kind of slowlike, her posture that of a person lost in deep contemplation. As he watched, a sigh seemed to move through her and she lifted her head, squaring her shoulders. At the same time, her steps quickened, bringing her closer to the diner and the window he watched her through.

      He focused on her face and was struck by the oddest sensation. It was like looking into the face of an angel. A sexy-looking angel, without question, but an angel, nonetheless. Creamy, smooth complexion. Delicate features almost too perfect to be real. Bright, clear blue eyes. Full, moist lips. An innate sexuality in her movements stirred parts of his body that he was sure had died on the vine months ago.

      He lost sight of her as she skipped up the steps to the diner, and he quickly shifted his gaze to the door, waiting for her to step inside. She pushed her way through the entrance, bringing a blast of hot, humid air with her. She paused, glancing around, and met his gaze for the briefest of seconds. When she did, the sweetest, yet most sensual smile touched her lips before she turned away and headed for the counter.

      She brushed damp hair from her forehead. “Maudie,” he heard her say, “I sure hope you saved me a tall glass of that lime iced tea you’re so famous for.”

      The waitress caught up her apron to wipe her hands, her carmine-painted lips splitting in a welcoming smile. “Thirsty, are you?”

      “Parched.” The sexy angel—as Jack had already started to think of her—sank down onto a stool at the counter, her dress settling like a billowy cloud around her legs. She propped an elbow on the counter and fanned her face with a delicately boned hand. “I swear, it’s hot enough out there to fry eggs on the sidewalk.”

      Maudie shoveled a scoop of ice into a glass. “Did you hear that, Ed?” she yelled through the pass-through window that opened to the kitchen. She hefted an aluminum pitcher and poured tea into the glass without spilling a drop. “Alayna says we could fry eggs on the sidewalk. Why don’t you turn off the grill and move your cookin’ outside? It’d sure cool things off in here. Might even save us some money on gas.”

      Jack heard a gruff, male voice, but couldn’t make out the man’s reply. Alayna—thanks to Maudie, he now had a name to associate with the sexy angel—touched her fingertips to her chest and batted her eyes at the man on the other side of the window. Her voice all but dripped southern honey as she replied, “My-y, oh my-y, Ed, but you do-o-o know how to turn a woman’s head with your sweet talk.”

      Maudie tossed back her head and hooted at the ceiling. “Alayna, I’ll swear, for a minute there, you sounded just like your mother.” She shook her head, still chuckling, as she pulled up a stool on the opposite side of the counter. “How’s the old bat doin’, anyway?”

      Alayna didn’t even flinch at the verbal slur to her mother. “Fine. Giving Daddy heck, as usual.”

      “Serves him right for goin’ off and marryin’ a Southern Belle and abandoning his home state of Texas.” Maudie shook her head regretfully as she picked up a glass to polish, obviously preparing to settle in for a long gossip. “So how’s the remodelin’ comin’ along?”

      Her smile fading a bit, Alayna took a sip of tea, then set the glass down and plucked a napkin from the chrome dispenser on the counter. “Not very well, I’m afraid.” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth—a definite stall tactic in Jack’s estimation—then frowned, wadding the napkin in her fist. “Frank left.”

      Maudie’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “How much did he take you for?”

      Jack watched Alayna’s cheeks turn an engaging shade of pink, before she lifted her glass as if to hide behind it. “Enough,” he heard her murmur.

      Maudie slapped the counter hard enough to make the napkin dispenser rock and Alayna jump a good two inches off the stool. “That no-count drifter. I knew he’d end up scammin’ you. Didn’t I tell you that you couldn’t trust that polecat?”

      Alayna’s cheeks pinkened even more, but whether from embarrassment or in defiance, Jack wasn’t sure.

      “Yes, you did,” he heard her reply. “But I had little choice but to hire him. He was the only man in town with the skills necessary to remodel the Pond House for me and the only one who was willing to take on the job.”

      “Humph! I guess so. The name McCloud would be temptin’ enough for a double-dealin’ snake like Frank, but with you wearin’ the title of doctor, too, I’m sure he saw nothin’ but deep pockets and a chance for some easy money.”

      A doctor, huh? Jack knew he was eavesdropping, but couldn’t seem to work up the good manners required to block out the conversation. And now he had a last name to attach to the woman. Alayna McCloud. He liked the sound of it. Soft and feminine, but with an underlying strength. Much like his impression of the woman.

      He shook his head with regret as he digested what he’d heard. So she’d been scammed by a remodeler? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d heard of that happening.

      “He did make the house livable,” he heard her say in the man’s defense. “And the kitchen and two of the bathrooms are at least functional.”

      “And I suppose you paid him up-front?”

      “Well,” she began evasively, “not all of it. Besides, he said he needed the money to pay his rent or his landlord was going to kick him and his family out on the street.”

      “Landsakes, Alayna! Frank doesn’t have any family. You let that man work on your heartstrings while he shoulda’ been workin’ on your house.” Alayna’s chin snapped up at the criticism and Maudie sighed heavily. “So what are you going to do now?”

      Alayna glanced down at the counter and dipped her finger in the condensation the glass had left there, her brow furrowing. “I thought I might run an ad in the Austin paper.” She lifted her face, her eyes so full of innocence and hope that Jack felt the need to put a fist in the face of the man who’d cheated her. “Do you think there might be a carpenter there in need of a job?”

      Jack’s ears perked up at the word “carpenter” and an itch jumped to life on his palms. He rubbed his hands along his thighs to ease it. It had been years since he’d swung a hammer, worked a lathe, felt the satisfaction of wood warming beneath his hands. Uncovering the grain in a piece of painted wood, pumping blood back into an old house. He was a carpenter by trade, but all he’d done for the last couple of years was push papers, put out fires, haggle with subcontractors and inspectors. Did he really want to go back to that? Did he even want to go back to Houston at all?

      He glanced out the window at the big oak with its barrel-size trunk and sprawling branches. He squinted his eyes and looked farther, taking note of the quiet street and the quaint shops that lined both sides. He’d grown up in a town like this, before moving to Houston. Small. Friendly. Where everybody knew everybody...and their business.

      A sigh moved through him and he pushed back the memories before they could fully form. He was tired of running, but he wasn’t ready to go back to Houston. Not yet. Maybe never.

      Standing, he fished a couple of dollars out of his pocket and tossed them on the table, then scraped his cap from the seat and his ticket from the scarred Formica tabletop where Maudie had left it earlier. Crossing to the register, he dropped the ticket on the counter and worked his wallet from his back pocket.

      Maudie aimed one last frown of disapproval in Alayna’s direction, then stood and shifted to the register, pasting a smile on her face for Jack’s benefit. “Was everythin’ all right?” she asked as she punched