The Swinging R Ranch

“What on earth are you talking about?” She made a face. “Mona and I aren’t fighting.”

“Now you sound like a politician—evading the question.”

Abby wrinkled her nose. “I think you’ve been out in the heat too long.”

“You boldly tell me you’re going to shut me down, then without a word of explanation you’re running off.” Max shook his head. “When you take a stand, you’d better be prepared to back it up if you want to be taken seriously.”

She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him with tolerant amusement. “Really? And you know all about this sort of thing?”

“More than I care to,” he said, and when she raised her brows, waiting for him to explain, he shrugged. “Let’s just say my family has some history in the political arena.” A small understatement, considering he came from several generations of senators. But he didn’t like to think about that.

“Oh? And what do they think of you owning a brothel?” she asked, her tone so sticky sweet he was surprised she wasn’t swarmed by flies. “One that’s made money off of helpless women.”

Max kept as straight a face as he could. From the looks of things, it had been a long time since this place had turned so much as a dime. And helpless? Mona looked like she was ready to take a switch to somebody’s behind.

“What’s the deal, Abby? You sound like a disgruntled ex-employee or something,” he said seriously. At her wide-eyed indignation, he started to crack, but his poker face lasted long enough for him to add, “Or maybe you were turned down? If that’s the case, I’m sure we can reevaluate your application.”

Abby obviously had a temper. He could see she was trying to squelch it by pressing her lips together and taking deep breaths, but her eyes had that unmistakable glint of malice.

“How generous of you, Mr. Bennett,” she said with remarkable aplomb. “But I assure you that had I chosen to seek employment here, I would have had no trouble whatsoever.”

Herbert chuckled.

Mona gave him a warning look and placed her hands on her hips. “Okay, you two. That’s enough.”

“He started it,” Abby blurted, and promptly turned red again.

A grin tugged at Max’s lips. She really was cute. Refreshing, too. The women in his circle never blushed. In fact, a few of their ribald comments had made him squirm a time or two.

“Okay, this is last call for lemonade,” Mona said, motioning Herbert to usher Max into the kitchen. “You’re still welcome, Abigail, if you promise not to bring up any more sore subjects.” She slid a glance to the door. “Otherwise I’ll have your gramma ring you later.”

Abby gave the older woman a conciliatory smile. “I’m going to pass on the lemonade, but I would like a few minutes alone with Mr. Bennett.”

Mona chortled. “When pigs fly.”

Max held up a hand. “It’s okay, Mona. I think I can handle her.”

Before Mona could voice another protest, Herbert slipped an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the kitchen.

“We’ll be lapping up some of Rosie’s lemonade while you two are pow-wowing,” he said. “Come join us when you’re done.”

They waited until the other couple disappeared, and then Max gestured toward the living room. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Abby smiled. “Didn’t take you long to make yourself at home, did it?”

“I do own the place.”

Rolling her eyes, she walked stiffly past him toward a frilly pink love seat beneath a velvet painting of Elvis Presley. So much for the room being furnished normally. Max didn’t follow her right away. He was too taken by her scent. It wasn’t anything immediately recognizable, not flowery exactly. Maybe a hint of cloves. Whatever it was, he liked it. Almost as much as he liked the gentle sway of her hips and the way her worn jeans hugged her fanny.

She sat down, crossed her legs and primly folded her hands on her lap. When he still hadn’t moved, she gave him an odd look and uncrossed, then recrossed her legs. He moved toward her, bypassing the couch and the antique Queen Anne chair. The only seat left in his path was beside her and her eyes rounded in disbelief.

When he settled in next to her on the love seat, she let out a sound of exasperation and shifted closer to her corner. “Don’t you understand the concept of personal space?”

He pursed his lips as if giving the question consideration. “This seat is built for two, right?”

She narrowed her gaze on him and he noticed how long her lashes were, yet there didn’t seem to be anything artificial about them. It was an odd thing for him to notice. Hell, choosing to sit here next to her was pretty damn odd. He had no idea where that idea had come from. It certainly hadn’t been conscious.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Their gazes made contact and she paused. Her tongue briefly darted out to moisten her lips and he realized this had been a bad idea. “But it’s not going to work.”

“What isn’t?”

“You’re trying to intimidate me. I don’t care if you’d sat on my lap, I’m not backing down.”

“Good. I like a woman with backbone.”

“That’s another thing. I don’t give a hoot about what you like or don’t like.”

“Don’t give a hoot,” he repeated, thoughtfully. “Now that’s one I haven’t heard before. Is that a local saying?”

Abby smiled. “Trying to provoke me won’t work either.”

“What? I’m serious.”

She stared at him for a long, silent moment, and he knew what it felt like to be a bug under a microscope. Her expression never wavered as she studied him, as though she were truly interested in what he was thinking. Her frankness surprised him and unnerved the hell out of him.

So did her mysterious feminine scent…the chocolate brown of her eyes…the crisp tart smell of green apple on her breath.

Abruptly he stood and glanced at his watch. “I haven’t got all day. What is it you want to talk about?”

She started a little at his sudden move. “I want to know what you intend to do with the Swinging R.”

Her question took him aback, although it really shouldn’t have. What else would she want from him? But he really had no clue how to answer her. Considering the circumstances, he’d probably sell it, if he could find a buyer. “I don’t know yet.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Trying to figure out how to generate some income.”

Her eyes widened and she stood, too. The top of her head didn’t even meet his chin, but that didn’t stop her from backing him up. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not? This is a business. Businesses are supposed to make money.” He stood his ground and she stopped two feet away, her eyes ablaze with outrage and disbelief.

And then she blinked, and a slow smile softened her expression. Damn, but she really was cute, pretty even. Nothing striking, but the kind of woman a man eventually wanted to come home to every night. Other men. Not him. Marriage was for guys with nothing better to do.

“I see,” she said nodding. “You’re teasing me. I guess I deserve it for being so pushy. But I really am interested in your plans for the place.”

“I wasn’t teasing.”

Her smile vanished and she glared, lips tight with disapproval. When she suddenly lowered her gaze to his body, he shifted uncomfortably wondering what she found so interesting down there. And then he realized she was studying his watch. Next, her attention fastened on his shoes.

She looked up. “You obviously don’t need the money. Why bother with this place?”

He snorted. “You know that much about me in just twenty minutes?”

“A gold Rolex and five-hundred-dollar Gucci shoes pretty much disqualifies you from welfare.”

The watch was pretty distinctive but he was surprised she recognized his designer shoes. Snobby of him maybe, but Bingo wasn’t exactly the shopping Mecca of the west. No upscale neighborhoods or large luxury cars. These were obviously plain people with simple tastes.

He chuckled to himself at the irony of his thoughts. After twenty minutes, here he figured he knew all about her. He had a feeling that if he stuck around long enough, he’d find that there was a lot about Abby Cunningham he would never have guessed. But it wasn’t going to happen. He was out of here by tomorrow.

“Stalling isn’t going to discourage me,” she said, when he’d apparently been quiet too long. She folded her arms over her chest. “And for your information, my question is purely personal, and not political.”

“Right.”

Uncrossing her arms, she glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen. Herbert and Mona were long gone. Abby took a step closer to him and lowered her voice. “I’m sure you can see that this place is no longer operational. The, uh, ladies are in retirement, so to speak, but they still need a place—”

A loud squawk cut her off and made them both jump. Mona came marching toward them, her face reddened with anger, a raised frying pan in her right hand. “Retirement, my fanny. It’ll be a cold day in August before you put this old mare out to pasture. Now, Abigail, I suggest you get before I really lose my temper.”

The frying pan was one of those old cast-iron ones that had to weigh a ton, and it did, judging by the way it kept inching down, causing Mona to pitch forward slightly, teetering. Max was about to relieve her of it before someone really did get hurt, when Herbert surprised her from behind and lifted the pan out of her hand.

“For cryin’ out loud, Mona, have you stopped taking your pills again?” Herbert set the pan on top of a tall bookcase out of her reach.

“Dammit, Herbie, whose side are you on?” Mona smacked him on the upper arm. “How’s a body supposed to make a living?”

With a weary sigh, Herbert slid Max a helpless look. “Come on, Mona, you haven’t done that for almost twenty years.”

“Viagra, honey, Viagra is changing everything. We’ll be open again. You’ll see.” She looked at Max. “You’re a businessman. Tell him.”

Everyone turned to Max, Herbert with an expression of dread, Abby with amusement glittering in her eyes. Max cleared his throat. “I hadn’t really thought much about that.”

“What’s there to think about?” Mona put her hands on her hips. “You get a supply of the stuff and we’ll pass them out. There won’t be enough hours in the day once all those old goats from Bingo start lining up.”

Max took a deep breath. He was a worldly, laid-back guy. He could handle this conversation, even if Mona did look like she could be his grandmother.

He made the mistake of looking at Abby for help. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Yeah, Max,” she said, her forehead wrinkling in a thoughtful frown. “You could order Viagra by the bushel, pass it out like candy and put all these ladies back to work. After all, it is legal in this county.”

Max gave her his best smile. If she thought he would cower, she was wrong. He was a Bennett. Made of strong New England stock. He could handle anything.

“Yoo-hoo! Anybody home? I have a surprise.”

Everyone turned toward the high-pitched voice coming from the kitchen.

“In here, Candy,” Mona called out.

Two women appeared at the door. Both seventyish. Both grinning. One holding her hand behind her back.

“I have a surprise,” the shorter one drawled, glanced behind and tugged on a leash.

The world’s ugliest lizard lumbered forward and stuck out its very long tongue.

“Her name’s Tami,” Candy said. “Isn’t she adorable?”

Max told himself he wasn’t going to faint. But he put a steadying hand on the couch just in case.

4

“WHAT IS THAT?” Max asked, relieved his voice hadn’t cracked.

“An iguana,” the short blonde said, her artfully made-up face scowling at Max’s abruptness. “Who wants to know?”

“Okay, Candy, don’t go getting your knickers in a twist.” Mona stepped between him and the other woman. Not that Max had any intention of getting closer. Especially not as long as the overgrown lizard’s tongue kept swiping the air. “This here is Maxwell Bennett, Lily’s nephew.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Candy looked him up and down. “You came all the way out here yourself, did you? Figured you’d send some fancy lawyer to take care of things all neat and tidy.”

God, Max wished he had. “Nice to meet you, Candy. Now about this thing…” He gestured to the iguana, then took a hasty step back when it moved. “Tell me it isn’t some sort of pet.”

Candy narrowed her gaze. “She’s a she, not an it, and I already explained her name is Tami.”

Mona sighed loudly. “You haven’t met Estelle yet, Max.” She inclined her head toward the other woman with short silver hair, much more conservative in her blue shirtwaist dress next to Candy’s tight jeans. “Estelle?”

She was smiling at Herbert and paying them no attention.

Mona looked from Herbert to the silver-haired woman, and she planted both hands on her hips and started tapping one foot. “Estelle?” Her tone was sharper this time.

“Hmm?” Estelle turned an absent gaze toward them.

“I am trying to introduce you to Mr. Bennett.” Mona’s hands remained on her hips, and with her fiery blue eyes she issued Herbert a brief warning before forcing a smile for Max.

He checked out the position of the iguana before stepping forward to offer his hand, and caught Abby’s smirk out of the corner of his eye. She’d been so quiet he’d almost forgotten about her. She was obviously aware of his discomfort and enjoying it far too much.

Trying to ignore her, he smiled at Estelle. “Pleased to meet you. How long have you been, uh…” to his annoyance, he stumbled for a suitable word “…working here?”

A shriek coming from Abby startled them all, drawing their attention. Even Mona stopped scowling at Estelle and frowned at Abby. “What in the hell has gotten into you?”

But Abby’s anger was clearly reserved for Max alone. She marched up to him, stopping only inches away, then tilted her head back and glared. “That is my grandmother you are speaking to,” she said through gritted teeth. “She does not work here.”

“Oh, get off your high horse, Abigail.” Mona huffed. “You saying she’s too good to work here?”

Abby blinked, but she kept her attention on Max. “I’m just saying she doesn’t. And she has no business staying here.”

The tension in the room raised the temperature by ten degrees. And Max had no intention of fanning the flames. He looked away from Abby and stared at the iguana. It stared back. “I’ll tell you who has no business here. It’s that disgusting tongue-wielding reptile.”

Candy gasped. “Disgusting? Tami is not disgusting. She’s my new pet.” Her face softened as she looked at the creature. “Aren’t you, sugar baby?”

“You think you’re keeping her here?”

“Why not?” Candy’s overly plucked eyebrows arched in challenge. “Where do you usually keep a pet?”

“One like that?” Max snorted. “In a zoo.”

“Over my dead body.” The blonde folded her arms across her chest, the movement giving the iguana’s leash more slack, and the animal took two steps toward Max.

Hell, it was his dead body he was worried about. He backed up, and stepped on Abby’s foot.

“Ouch!” She gave him a light jab to the ribs.

He grunted, more in surprise than anything else. “For crying out loud, I didn’t do that on purpose.” When their eyes met, she tried to signal something he didn’t understand.

“I don’t get it,” Candy said. “What’s it to you if I keep Tami here? None of you girls mind, do you?”

Mona shook her head. “She’s gotta be better than that tarantula you had last year.”

“Or that monkey who kept hiding our garters,” Rosie added.

“He was a mean-spirited little thing.”

Were they putting him on? Max looked at Herbert who had sat down, pretty much ignoring everything, and picked candies out of a blue glass dish.

“What about you?” Candy turned to Estelle. “You helped me pick Tami out so I assume you vote she stays.”

“Uh, excuse me.” Abby cleared her throat. “Gramms is coming home with me.”

At this point, Max didn’t give a damn what anyone did. Maybe it was time to cut his losses. He was a minute away from telling Herbert to take him back to the airstrip. These people were all nuts. He eyed the iguana who stood between him and the door.

And then he caught the look on Estelle’s face. Of course he didn’t know her, so perhaps he was wrong, but she looked awfully close to tears. He glanced at Abby. Fear clouded her eyes.

Oh, hell, it was probably his imagination. He didn’t know her either. Nor was this domestic dispute his problem. His gaze reluctantly shifted to Abby again. He hated seeing her beautiful brown eyes so panicked.

“What’s wrong with your grandmother staying here a while?” he asked, knowing he would regret it.

Disappointment spread across Abby’s face. “She has a perfectly fine home she shares with me. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“What I’d like to know,” Candy cut in, “is why keeping Tami is such a big hairy deal.”

“Because I don’t like reptiles,” Max said, his patience gone.

“What difference does that make? You’re not living—” Candy stopped, her gaze narrowing in suspicion. “You’re not moving in here.”

Max reacted with a short bark of laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He shook his head. He was still packed. If he had half a brain he’d head back to the plane right now. But then he briefly caught a glimpse of Abby’s shiny brown hair. “Look, I’ll only be here a couple of days to take care of business. I’m thinking about staying here instead of the motel. But that—” he stared pointedly at the iguana “—has to stay outside until I’m gone.”

Candy opened her mouth to protest, but Rosie stuck an oatmeal raisin cookie in it.

“That seems reasonable,” Mona said, “now how about you tell us what kind of business you’ll be doing?”

He gave her a censuring look. “My business.”

Mona chuckled. “You remind me of Lily. Stubborn as an old mule.”

“If Mr. Bennett will be staying here, obviously there isn’t enough room for you, Gramms.” Abby locked gazes with Estelle. “I’ll help you get your things.”

“Now, hold on there.” Candy’s voice was a little garbled until she swallowed her bite of cookie. “We have three extra rooms since Misty got married and Ginger went back east. And, of course, since Lily, God rest her soul, headed for the great beyond.”

“Don’t forget the sewing room,” Herbert chimed in. “You gals never use it. I could even fix it up some if you like.” Mona’s suspicious gaze swung from Herbert to Estelle. “How come you never offered to help us fix things up before?”

Herbert rubbed the side of his chin, looking slightly sheepish. “Now, that’s not true. I repaired the back steps twice. Plus you know I’m pretty busy most days.”

“Yeah, running down to the Vegas strip and betting on those damn fool Dallas Cowboys and Denver Broncos.” Mona sniffed and cast another piqued look at Estelle. “At least that’s what you been telling me.”

Max was about to put an end to this ridiculous conversation when Abby’s expression caught his interest. She had an unusually expressive face, and it wasn’t difficult to see how her thoughts had unraveled. She was just as worried about anything going on between her grandmother and Herbert as Mona seemed to be. He wondered what that was about, and his interest surprised him. God knew he had many faults, but curiosity wasn’t one of them.

Abby’s gaze slowly swung his way, as if she’d felt him watching her. An unexpected pink tinted her cheeks and she looked really cute. Not his type, but cute.

“I could use some help in the kitchen,” Rosie said, breaking the brief silence as she headed down the short hall, “especially if everyone is staying for supper.”

“I’ll go change my clothes and be right in,” Estelle called to her, carefully avoiding Abby’s gaze.

“I need to talk to you, Gramms.”

“In a minute.” The older woman waved a hand and hurried down the opposite hall.

“And you,” Mona said, pointing a scarlet-tipped finger at Herbert. “Outside. I have a thing or two to say, and I don’t think you want anyone hearing it.”

Worry puckered the man’s brows. “Gee, I’d really like to Mona, but I told you, I’m working.” He turned a pleading look to Max. “Maybe we should go see if Southby is back from fishing.”

“No rush.” Max’s slow grin met with Herbert’s squinty-eyed threat. “Go visit with Mona. And take your time.”

“Come on, Tami.” Candy tugged the leash but the iguana seemed preoccupied with Max. It stuck its long tongue out again as if trying to see if it could reach him. It couldn’t but Max inched back anyway.

“Go. Scat.” He tried to shoo it, but it kept staring at him like he was dinner.

Behind him, Abby giggled.

He growled in exasperation.

“We’re going already.” Candy jerked on the leash and this time Tami obeyed, and they started down the same hall Estelle had taken.

“I hope there’s a back door through there,” Max called after them.

Candy didn’t so much as look back, and Max pretty much figured she planned on sneaking the little beast into her room. The motel was beginning to sound awfully good.

He turned to Abby. “What are you grinning at?”

Lifting a shoulder, she pressed her lips together and slowly shook her head.

She hadn’t smiled much but when she did her entire face changed. It lit up like sunshine on crystal-clear water. Her bow-shaped lips were a natural pink. Perfect. Tempting.

“Didn’t your parents ever take you to the zoo when you were a kid?” she asked, letting her mouth curve again.

“Yes, they did. In fact, I like zoos. They have bars and cages.”

She shook her head at him.

He snorted. “I didn’t see you running up to give it a scratch behind the ears.”

“Touché.”

Max’s curiosity stirred again. Her response surprised him. What he’d expected was a more down-home word or phrase, but not something Taylor or one of his other friends would say. “Tell me the truth. You don’t think it’s weird that Candy has pets like tarantulas and iguanas?”

“You want the truth? I think it’s weird that any state would legally sanction brothels in this day and age.”

“Oh, brother.” Max scrubbed at his eyes. He’d gotten up too damn early. “So, back to lecturing.”

“Wrong.” She shook her head. “I’m not, really.” She studied him for a moment. “Truth time again. If you hadn’t inherited this place, would you have bought it?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“It’s my devious way of trying to find out what you really think of a place like this.”

He smiled. “I think it needs a couple more cushioned rockers.”

She smiled back, a truly terrific smile. “You’re dodging the subject.”

“Damn right I am. You already told me that if you become mayor you’re shutting us down.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Sounds like you’re considering reopening the place.”

“I might.”

“Really?” Her expression didn’t waver. “It would take an awful lot of money.”

“Hell, it’ll take a lot just to keep it standing.” And that was no joke. He’d obviously wasted his time flying out here.

“Probably. But you have to do something.”

He shrugged. “I could just walk away. Leave the place as is.”

Shock registered in her eyes. “No, you can’t. The house isn’t safe.”

“Then they should move out.”

“And where do you suggest they go? These women live on social security, not fat pensions.”

“Not my problem.”

She stared in disbelief, then in disgust. “You own the place. It’s your responsibility.”

“Excuse me, but I didn’t sign up for this headache.”

“Too bad. You’ve got it.”

He shrugged again. “Like I said, I could walk away.”

Abby growled—literally, and convincingly enough that he glanced over his shoulder to see if the iguana was back.

“I can’t believe you could be this…this heartless.” Abby went to the plate of cookies Rosie had left, picked out a ginger snap, sat on the couch, then took an enormous bite.