Lone Star Legacy. Roxanne Rustand

over to turn off the gas on the anesthesia machine, then finished up a few more stitches. “I’ve got another vet starting in December, and your cousin Liza will be done with vet school next spring. I’ll be able to slow down, then.”

      “If you make it that long. What about office help? A vet tech?”

      “You find one who’ll come out to this town, and she’s got a job. Want to help me move this guy to the floor? You take the hips—easy, now.”

      They gently positioned the dog on a soft bed of blankets.

      “What about hiring some high school girl? Someone who loves animals.” Joel studied the sleeping dog. “Someone who can lift fifty pounds of dead weight and not suffer the next day.”

      Walt’s eyes gleamed. “Sorry, maybe I should have moved him myself.”

      “I’m talking about you. Next thing you know, you’ll be in traction.”

      Walt stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve advertised. I’ve asked around. Town this size, the labor pool is more like a puddle, and half the people I could think of were ones I wouldn’t trust with my animals or my books. But there is someone…she’s new around here, and she looks like she could use a job. Got a little girl to feed.”

      “Not the new neighbor.”

      “Why not? Looks like she’s a hard worker.” The dog twitched. Coughed. Walt bent down to remove the trach tube, then he straightened and watched as the dog started to wake up. “Lord knows, fixing up that place of hers will cost a fortune, and I’m guessing she doesn’t have a lot to work with.”

      “Why do you say that?”

      “Pretty little thing like her can’t do it all, but she sure hasn’t hired anyone to help her out. And that SUV of hers looks like it’s about to breathe its last. Sounds like it, too.”

      Walt was right—she was definitely pretty, and Joel had found himself thinking about her way too often since he’d helped her move in. But he’d picked up on some bad vibes—and after fifteen years in law enforcement, he’d learned to listen to them. When he said he’d like to ask her a few questions, she’d gotten skittish. Wary.

      It was nothing he could put his finger on, exactly, but until he knew more about her, she wasn’t someone who ought to get her hands on Walt’s books. It was sheer common sense.

      “I think you should hold off a while. What do we know about her? Nothing.”

      “Her aunt was Crystal Mae, and that’s enough for me.”

      “Right. But even serial killers have normal people in their family tree.”

      Walt snorted. “That’s what you think of that sweet little gal? That she’s a serial killer?”

      “Of course not. But you need to be cautious. Remember telling me about how your dentist lost nearly everything to that accounting firm?”

      “I hardly think—”

      “And Beth plans to leave town in a few months, at any rate.” Joel thought fast. “Think of all you’d have to teach her. And,” he added after a deep breath, “I’d guess she needs time to work on that place of hers and get it done.”

      Walt laughed. “Whale of a lot of protest, over a gal you don’t know.”

      “Consider it professional advice. Steer clear.”

      “Evil isn’t hiding behind every shadow, Joel,” Walt murmured as he started writing in the dog’s medical chart. “Maybe you worked at that detective job of yours too long.”

      Okay, so maybe he was just a tad cynical. Burned out. He’d been through hell in more ways than one back in Detroit, and he wouldn’t even be in this town if that weren’t the case.

      Beth Lindstrom might be the most honest person on the planet, but she’d seemed oddly edgy, and Walt was far too trusting. That recent asphalt scam wasn’t the only time he’d been taken in the last couple years. With just one crafty, light-fingered employee, everything he’d ever worked for could go up in smoke.

      Joel was going to make sure that didn’t happen.

      CHAPTER THREE

      AFTER SPENDING the day with a calculator, a legal pad and two local contractors, Beth felt too overwhelmed to even think straight.

      The house had termites, black mold starting in the café storeroom, and a cracked foundation, for starters—nothing unusual in this part of Texas—but together they represented more money than she’d been able to salvage from selling her heavily mortgaged home in Illinois.

      And that didn’t begin to touch the cosmetic projects that would enhance the café’s curb appeal for future buyers.

      Once the walls were patched, the house would have to be painted, inside and out. The deeply scarred oak floors needed stripping. Several windows and doors had to be replaced, and if the stains on the upstairs bedroom ceilings were any clue, the roof had serious problems, too.

      And the plumbing—she closed her eyes, trying not to remember the plumber’s look of shock that soon brightened to an avaricious gleam as he’d studied the antiquated pipes. A new water softener and iron filter alone would be over five hundred.

      Her sister, Melanie, on yet another marriage and perpetually broke, had given Crystal’s property little thought since they’d received the inheritance five years ago. Beth had been equally guilty, caught up in her own world, and they’d let a careless Realtor manage both the upkeep and the rentals. No wonder the house had attracted just low-end types.

      After Beth recouped her expenses, she and her sister planned to split the remaining profits. Beth had hoped her share would provide a significant down payment on a decent place to live in Billings, but that dream had faded with the last contractor. The cost of bringing this place up to code for a buyer’s mortgage inspection would probably approach or even exceed its market value.

      She could do a lot of cosmetic work herself, but it still would have to be sold as a fixer-upper for a ridiculously low figure. Maybe Joel had been right about bulldozing the place and simply giving up. Unless…

      Her heart picked up a faster beat as she took another hard look at the main floor, then walked into the kitchen, where she found Darwin on top of the old refrigerator, a foreleg, rear leg and his tail dangling down the front surface. He gave her a bored look and went back to sleep.

      She studied the possibilities in the kitchen. Her excitement rose. Then dissolved.

      Walt had mentioned opening the café again, and he’d said there wasn’t any competition for thirty or forty miles in any direction. Reopening the café would create income, and would increase its value to prospective buyers. But to open, she’d have to meet an entirely different set of codes, and that would take money she didn’t have, either.

      “When can we go see the puppies?”

      Sophie had been asking all day. “I don’t think…” Beth looked at the clock, wanting nothing more than to cancel that dinner invitation. But one glance at her child’s hopeful expression and she just couldn’t do it.

      After seeing her entire life tipped upside down, Sophie had still taken everything in stride—leaving her pretty pink bedroom, the kids next door, the only house she’d ever known. And this was really such a small thing. What was the harm?

      She managed a weary smile. “Guess we’d better get dressed and get over there. Can’t keep those pups waiting, right?”

      

      AFTER A LONG, hot shower, Beth gave Sophie a bath and then lingered over her own closet, uncertain over what to wear. Until now there’d been no question—her worst jeans and shirts, because she’d been endlessly cleaning and scrubbing, and today, she’d started clearing out some of the rubbish in the yard.

      But for an evening?