Lone Star Bachelor

“Hey.” He left the coffee sitting and turned to Dawson, whose black hair was still wet and shiny from his swim. He was a good-looking dude, even if Sawyer did say so. The same height, with the same face, he and his brother were best friends, though their personalities were different.

Dawson was a calm, introspective guy who counseled family and friends with a gentle God-directed wisdom. Dawson was, in a word, sensitive, and noticed nuances and undercurrents in relationships that Sawyer invariably missed.

Sawyer was—Well, he was different. He’d rather make people smile.

“I had a visitor this morning.”

“Yeah? Who?” Dawson confiscated the abandoned coffee cup and sipped.

“Private investigator.”

The unflappable brother gave a facial shrug. “Dad warned us.”

“He didn’t warn us about one thing.”

An eyebrow shot up. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“She’s a woman. A young, beautiful woman. Maybe thirty. About this tall.” Sawyer indicated shoulder height. “Wavy blond hair to her shoulders. Kind of soft and vulnerable looking. Not your stereotypical PI.”

Dawson saluted him with the cup. “You sure noticed a lot about her. You must be interested.”

He was, and he couldn’t figure out why. “You need to meet her before you form an opinion. Tough lady.”

“Hard-boiled?”

“Cold as a grape Popsicle in January.”

“Aw, poor Sawyer.” Dawson pulled a silly face. “The lady wasn’t charmed.”

“Not one bit.”

Dawson chuckled and toasted him with the cup. “Losing your touch, bro.”

The salesclerk—Nora—came around an end cap struggling to juggle several blister-wrapped packages with four wooden cabinet doors. Sawyer leaped forward to help. “Let me carry those. That’s too much for one lady.”

“Thank you.” She beamed up at him as he stood close enough to take charge of the wooden doors. “These are the new router designs. When I saw them, I thought of you.”

Sawyer sorted through the stack, sharing each one with his twin. “Nice. What do you think, Dawson? Can we use some of these?”

Dawson put his finger on one. “This would look great in the Carter house in the Huckleberry Addition.”

Nora, standing between the brothers, frowned up at Sawyer. “The Carter house? Is that a new one? I don’t remember seeing any invoices with that name.”

“It was a spec home until Charity sold it a couple of days ago. Now that we know the owner, we’ll be coordinating on the final details with the Carters.” Sawyer tapped the router design. “I agree with Dawson. This one’s great, but maybe we could take samples of all of them for showing? You never know a buyer’s taste.”

“Sure!” she said. “We can do that. I’ll go in the back and have the guys run some scrap boards for you to take along.”

Dawson reached in his pocket and removed two master keys. “Almost forgot. Can you make a couple of copies from these?”

Her smile broadened. “Be glad to. Should I mark them so you’ll know them apart?”

“Good idea.” He indicated the project name for each key. “Thanks, Nora.”

“Anytime.” She started off but turned back, gaze falling on Sawyer. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

She left them, and the brothers got down to business, going over their respective phone lists of supplies they needed for today’s work.

“I think you have another admirer,” Dawson said as they walked through the supply building.

“Who?” The private investigator flashed into Sawyer’s head. Jade—pretty name, but hard as the jewel she was named for.

“Nora, dimwit. You need an update on your navigation system?”

“The clerk? Nah, she’s a great employee. She helps everyone like that.”

Dawson tossed the empty cup into a trash can. “She’s never brought me samples to look at. Except that time she thought I was you.”

“Nothing unusual about that.” They were mirror twins. Dawson was right-handed and Sawyer a leftie. Each had an identical birthmark but on opposite shoulders. But many people still confused them because they were otherwise identical. They’d dealt with the twin confusion all their lives and had used it to their advantage many times, particularly during the ornery middle school years.

“Except she called me Sawyer and sort of gushed, getting all red like she did a minute ago.” Dawson pitter-pattered a hand over his heart.

“Give it a rest. After being grilled by the private investigator this morning, I’m not thinking about women.” None except the PI.

“That bad, huh?”

“You’ll get your turn. What I can’t figure out is why the focus is on me.”

“The photo was you.”

True. No matter how he combed his hair, the part fell naturally to the left. Dawson’s on the right. Otherwise, they’d never have figured out an identity. Weird that he didn’t recall when or where the photo was taken.

“Just because a picture of me was found on a vandalized site doesn’t make the discovery significant. Maybe the photo has nothing at all to do with the case.”

“Convince Dad of that.”

“Right,” Sawyer said. “Dad and one female Sherlock Holmes.”

* * *

The Red River Roost, a long, old-fashioned strip motel complete with a rooster perched in crowing posture above the flashing vacancy sign, looked a little tired but offered extended stays for a price that fit Jade’s expense budget. Dale Trentworth, owner of Paris Investigations, squeezed every penny and expected his employees to do the same.

Jade knew all about pinching pennies, and the River Roost, as the manager called the place, wasn’t too bad. Located in a residential area on the far side of Gabriel’s Crossing, the place should be quiet and restful, and that was all she required.

She pulled her Chevy into the spot in front of Unit Three and got out, peeling off her jacket as she approached her room. To say she was sweltering in this black suit would be a gross understatement. She was a cooked goose, a roasted duck, a rabbit on a spit baking in the Texas sun. Sweaty and sticky, though the day was young, she tossed the jacket over her elbow.

She knew better than to wear black this time of year, but she’d wanted to appear professional and in control. If she’d arrived at Sawyer Buchanon’s house in a dress and spiky heels, he might have turned on the charm and distracted her from her questions. Not that he hadn’t tried anyway. The man was a born flirt.

She had not been moved. Not one bit.

Well, perhaps a little, but she’d handled him and his charisma. Even if the picture of his too-handsome face kept flashing behind her eyes, she was proud of her cool, competent reaction.

Now that she’d established her professionalism and complete lack of interest in Mr. Playboy Buchanon, the black had to go.

A glance at her cell phone indicated plenty of time to change before her next appointment.

What she wouldn’t give to slip into comfortable jeans and a cool tank top, but first impressions mattered in this business. To be taken seriously, she had to work harder than a man. A glance in the mirror wasn’t required to remind her of how she looked. Petite. Fragile. An easy mark.

She was neither fragile nor easy, not anymore. But her size wasn’t likely to change, and unless she succumbed to plastic surgery. Neither was her baby-doll face.

Well, she was no baby doll. Sawyer Buchanon and his kind better understand that from the get-go.

She was tough and determined.

Fishing for her key, she glanced around, taking mental snapshots of her surroundings. Police work had taught her to be always on the alert, though Gabriel’s Crossing, Texas, was about as calm and peaceful a place as she could think of.

Yet someone had sabotaged the Buchanons’ work projects. Bad things happened in small towns, only on a lesser scale.

The small motel was sparsely populated this weekday morning. Beneath the awning in front of the office sat a battered green pickup truck with a riding lawn mower in the bed. From somewhere nearby, she smelled the clean, fresh aroma of cut grass.

A gray late-model Hyundai was parked in front of Unit Eight and a cleaning cart sat outside Unit Seven. Out on the street, a black SUV motored slowly past, tires hissing against the hot pavement.

A few doors up at Unit One, a young strawberry blonde exited her room, a chubby-cheeked baby on her hip. Her gaze caught Jade’s. She looked worried, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, brow furrowed beneath wispy bangs. She also looked like a kid, sixteen, seventeen at the most.

Watchful but concerned, too, Jade offered a smile. “Cute baby.”

Babies got to her in a big way. She’d wanted two or three. Cam hadn’t wanted any. He’d made that painfully clear.

The teenager shifted the baby on her hip. “Thanks. Say hi, Ashton.”

She lifted the baby’s little hand and waved. Jade waved back, and the friendliness must have been the encouragement the girl needed. She glanced toward the parking lot, squared her shoulders and walked the few feet to Jade’s door.

Glad she hadn’t unlocked her unit, Jade took the girl’s measure. She was an inch or two taller than Jade and too thin, her pale skin devoid of makeup. Dressed in jean shorts and a pink T-shirt, she wore cheap flip-flops and had a pink Cupid’s heart tattooed on top of her left foot. No other obvious identifying marks.

Jade relaxed. The girl presented no threat that she could detect. She was just a friendly, nervous teenager with a baby wearing only a disposable diaper.

“I was wondering.” The girl darted a worried glance at Jade but quickly looked down at her shoes. “I need a ride. Ashton’s out of diapers and...” She let the words trail away.

“You don’t have a car?”

The red-blond ponytail swished from side to side. “No.”

A dozen questions flashed through Jade’s mind. Where was this girl’s family? What was she doing in a motel? Was she alone?

She caught on the last one. “Are you staying here by yourself?”

“Me and Ashton.” The girl focused on the baby and then on Jade. She licked her lips and swallowed.

Nervous. Embarrassed.

Jade logged every movement, assessing. As a cop, she’d dealt with plenty of runaways. Was this another?

“Where do you live?”

The girl shrugged, but her face flushed crimson. “We got kicked out and moved here.”

“Kicked out of where?” Jade was being nosy but this girl had asked for a ride. No harm in requesting information in exchange.

“My mom’s place. She let me stay for a while after I had Ashton, but—well, money’s tight and she has her own problems. She said it was time for us to take care of ourselves.”

Nice family. “You have no one else? What about the baby’s father?”

The girl rolled her eyes and made a rueful sound. “He skipped out a looong time ago.”

The baby started to fuss and squirm in his mother’s arms. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. Instinctively, Jade reached out and grasped the little guy’s thrashing arm and wiggled it.

“Are you too hot, precious?” she crooned. “You sure are a handsome boy.”

The baby quieted instantly, his big brown eyes latched onto her face.

“I think he likes you,” the girl said hopefully.

Jade laughed, itching to hold him as she made a quick decision. Walking half a mile to the nearest store for diapers would be miserable for both mom and baby.

“What’s your name?”

“Bailey.”

“Okay, Bailey. I’m Jade. I need to change clothes but I won’t be long. Fifteen minutes or so, maybe. Take the baby back to your room and stay cool. I’ll knock on the door when I’m ready and I’ll drive you down to the Dollar Store.”

Relief washed over the girl like a sudden summer rain. “Thank you so much. I can’t pay you but—”

Jade waved her off. The girl probably didn’t have two extra nickels. “I’m glad to do it. Ashton is adorable.”

And you break my heart.

The key caught and Jade entered the small motel room, grateful for the blast of cool air chugging from the wall unit.

The room was clean, but that was about all she could say for it. Bed, TV, desk and cheap chair with a tiny bathroom. “All the comforts of home.”

She didn’t plan to be here long. The Red River Roost would do until she finished the investigation and returned to her nice apartment in Paris, Texas.

Resisting the urge to jump in the shower and cool off, she changed tops and jackets, opting for a white blazer and orchid button-down. Still professional, but definitely cooler.

From beneath the mattress, she withdrew her tiny laptop and booted up, taking a moment to check her email and run through some records sent by her boss, though nothing appeared pertinent to the Buchanon case. At least not yet.

As an afterthought, she pulled up Sawyer’s Facebook profile. Social media was an amazing source of information to private investigators and police officers.

She scanned through the recent posts, pausing at one with a puzzled frown. Sawyer had responded to a message with:

Praying for you, man. Hang in there.

In another, he’d posted a scripture.

No one had mentioned his religious affiliation, but Jade had experience with men who wielded scriptures like a weapon. Her father was one of them, battering her, her brothers and mother over the head with the Bible whenever the words suited his intent.

Granted, Sawyer’s scripture had been encouraging, not scathing, but religious fanatics were always suspect in her book. Closing the lid, Jade slid the laptop back into its hiding place. She exited the room, still pondering the complexities of human beings, one in particular. She wondered if Sawyer’s twin would prove as interesting.

Chapter Three

Buchanon Built Construction Company was housed in a warehouse on the edge of Gabriel’s Crossing, not far from the railroad tracks and the downtown area. Every day at least four times, a train rumbled through town, shook the earth, rattled windows and made dogs howl. Townsfolk like Sawyer barely noticed unless they were stuck at the railroad crossing. Like this morning.

When Sawyer finally arrived at the warehouse with Dawson pulling in behind him, a row of familiar pickup trucks had parked at an angle in front. UPS and a flatbed lumber truck unloaded supplies through the end double doors, the clatter of their labor enlivening the quiet, sunny morning. Summer in Gabriel’s Crossing meant construction work and plenty of it. Business for the Buchanon family was not good. Business was great.

Sawyer entered through the front door, stepping into the main offices where a U-shaped desk filled most of the room. Two of his sisters were behind the business center, already busy, and the ever-present scents of coffee and new wood welcomed him in.

“Did you bring doughnuts?” Allison asked. His petite sister could normally eat anything without gaining weight, but lately she’d put on a few pounds, mostly around the middle. She was hungry all the time.

“You’d be better off eating something healthy, Allison.” Jaylee, stick thin, was super health conscious and happily nagged the rest of them on a regular basis about their food choices. They mostly ignored her.

“I am eating healthy.” Allison patted her barely rounded belly. If he hadn’t been reminded a hundred times, Sawyer wouldn’t even know she was pregnant. “But baby Hamilton wants a doughnut with his milk this morning.”

Sawyer held up a white box. “Uncle Sawyer to the rescue.”

Allison sucked in a deep, appreciative breath. “My hero.”

“I thought Jake was your hero.”

“He is, but he’s not here and you have doughnuts.” She laughed, tossing her flippy dark hair.

“Did the poor guy already have enough of your pregnancy hormones and run away?” He knew better. Jake Hamilton was so thrilled over the expected baby he behaved as if he was the only man ever to experience fatherhood. Not that Sawyer would know a thing about that. Someday he’d like a passel of kids. It was the Buchanon way. But for now, he’d play the happy uncle and teasing brother.

“He and Manny are hauling bulls to the sale.” Allison pumped her arm once. “Cha-ching. Gotta buy baby some pretties.”

She reached for the doughnut box on the counter and flipped the lid open with an approving moan. “These are amazing. Which do you think is healthiest? The Bavarian cream? Does that count as dairy?”

Jaylee snorted. “If you’re going to eat one, pick the one you like best. Healthy and doughnuts are incompatible terms.”

Sawyer reached across the counter and took a chocolate-iced pastry. “Coke, popcorn and doughnuts. My breakfast of champions.”

Jaylee swatted at him with a stack of paper. He laughed and added, “I promise to eat a salad for lunch. Anything I need to know before I head on over to the job site?”

“Dad’s in the back. He wants to talk before you leave.”

Beyond the office space was a conference area for family and vendor meetings and anything else that required a gathering place. Quinn, the family architect, worked there for peace and quiet and because he’d been a reclusive grump since moving home from Dallas a couple of years ago. However, since falling in love with Gena Satterfield, the local nurse practitioner, Quinn was a lot easier to be around.

“Sure thing.” Sawyer sauntered through the doorway, mouth full of fried dough. Dawson followed.

When he saw the woman standing stiff as the Statue of Liberty at the end of a long table, he nearly choked.

The fiery attraction he’d hoped was a fluke seared up the back of his neck.

His father, standing next to her, waved them in. “Sawyer, I think you’ve met Jade Warren from the private investigation firm.”

Sawyer battled the doughnut and managed to swallow down the thick lump.

The attraction was an entirely different matter. It raced through his bloodstream like molten lava. Nice. And weird.

He liked fun-loving, happy women with sunny dispositions and lots of laughter. Why did he find the serious, unfriendly Jade so compelling?

“Well, if it isn’t Nancy Drew.” He offered an intentionally flirty smile, hoping to loosen her up a little.

Her icy stare knocked the smile right out of him. She nodded once, a head bob that was both dismissal and acknowledgment.

Did anything rattle Miss Prim and Grim?

“Let’s have a seat,” Dad was saying as he pulled out a chair for Jade. Sawyer would have done that. Wanted to do it. Instead he seated himself across from her and noticed she’d changed clothes. She was still buttoned to the top in a choke hold that could take out a sumo wrestler, but the light purple color looked good with her eyes.

Yeah. He was noticing way too much about a woman who really didn’t want to like him.

He folded his arms on the tabletop and let his gaze linger on her deceptively sweet face while she talked in that crisp, no-nonsense manner that made him straighten his posture.

“Your father is creating a list of disgruntled employees.” She flipped open the spiral notebook. “I’d like each of you to do the same for cross-referencing purposes.”

Sawyer exchanged looks with Dawson and they both laughed. They still had the twin radar at times, knowing what the other thought. “Disgruntled? Would that include us brothers? We stay disgruntled.”

“But Dad won’t let us stop working.” Dawson lifted his coffee cup in a salute.

Dan Buchanon smiled slightly. “My boys like to joke around.”

“I see that.” But she didn’t crack a smile. “Does anyone come to mind immediately? Anyone who was fired, injured on the job, or caused a problem? No matter how small or seemingly insignificant the issue, I need to know.”

The four men mentioned a handful of people but stalled out quickly. They ran a reputable business and treated employees well. Dan, a workaholic, could be tough and demanding, but Brady, Mom and the three sisters kept things running smoothly so that most employees loved to work for the Buchanons.

Everyone wanted to come to the Buchanon Built Christmas party and the Fourth of July cookout, the place where Dan handed out bonuses and gifts and goodies to show appreciation for the previous six months of success.

“This business goes back many years to Grandpa. Maybe our bad guy goes that far back, too.” Dawson’s usually serene face was troubled. “I’ll give the list more thought.”

Sawyer nodded. “Sure. I will, too.”

“Have we provided enough to get started?” Dan pushed up from the table. He really was a workaholic. Sitting around for too long made him antsy.

Jade stood as well and tapped a pen against her notebook. “I want to see the vandalized sites today if possible.”

“No problem.” Dad aimed a finger toward Sawyer. “Sawyer will show you around. You can use the time to discuss anything in his past that may have set someone off on a vendetta.”

“Dad! Come on. I’m not the guilty party here. And I have important work to do.”

Dan held up a hand, his universal signal for “don’t argue.”

“Dawson can handle your load today.” To Dawson, he said, “Call Clare Hammond to help out in Sawyer’s place.”

“Works for me.” Dawson knocked back the last of his coffee and pushed to a stand. “Clare’s a pro, almost as good as us.”

Sawyer liked working with her, too. He could actually make Clare laugh, something he couldn’t say for the PI. But maybe if he and Jade Warren spent some time together, if she got to know him better, she might loosen up. Maybe he’d even convince her that he was a good guy—a long shot, he thought with humor, but he was always up for a challenge.

And when had he ever refused a day off with a beautiful woman?

* * *

Jade’s sensible shoes crunched on the gravel parking area outside the Buchanon offices as she made her way to her practical white Chevy. Even after driving her motel neighbor to the store and back, she’d arrived with plenty of time to spare for the meeting with the Buchanon boss. Now that she’d met the main man in person Jade felt better, more in control.

She wished her feelings were the same about Bailey Shaffer. The kid with the cute baby boy was barely seventeen and completely alone. No education, no job, no transportation. If not for public assistance, she and baby Ashton would have nothing. Bailey seemed like a sweet girl, and her love for Ashton showed on her face and in every action. She was a good, if too young, mother in a very bad situation.

Jade shook her head, knowing she should be focused on the job instead of the teenage mother. But she hurt for the girl and worried about her and the baby.

Sawyer Buchanon was behind her a few paces, having stopped to grab a doughnut from his sisters. He’d offered her one but she’d refused. She didn’t know why. She loved doughnuts, especially the ones with chocolate icing and lots of sprinkles, but she didn’t want Sawyer to think he could beguile his way under her skin.

Again, she couldn’t put a finger on what it was about him. He ruffled her and she didn’t like the feeling. It felt like attraction and that scared her. She had always been a sucker for handsome, smiling men until Cam Warren taught her a lesson she couldn’t forget. She knew her weaknesses, so she had to be careful. She would not be a victim again.

“Hey, Jade. Hold up.”

She stopped, one hand on her car door, keys ready. Sawyer ambled in her direction, the sun glinting on his black hair. He was built tall, like his brothers and father, lean, well-proportioned and fit, with long legs that ate up the ground in no time. She observed him as she would a suspect, wondering what kind of man lived inside that too-perfect body.

Her stomach clenched. Or was that flutters? Awareness flutters.

Annoyed to think it might be, she bit out a reply. “What?”

“Ride with me.” He hitched his head. “My truck’s over here.”

“No need. I’ll follow you in my vehicle.”

His nostrils flared. He gave her a long, slow look that seared the ends of her hair. “Suit yourself.”

Sawyer spun toward his big maroon pickup while Jade contemplated what she’d done. If she wanted to dig into the guy’s past, she needed to spend time with him in his environment, get to know more about him than what was on his Facebook page.