The Counterfeit Cowgirl Read Online Free PDF Page B

had written a check that drew down her account and the landlord refused to pay for a locksmith.” Aaron went on. “She was left with only twenty dollars left to live on until her next check came in.”
    “Is that right?”
    “Have you always considered your grandmother’s bank account yours to draw on, cowgirl?”
    “What difference does it make to you?” She led the way inside. “They put glue in the keyhole, too. According to Pete, the living room is too full of cracks. That’s why they opted to hide in the bedroom. It impressed them as being a little more snug.”
    The telephone shrilled.
    “The bedroom is to the right down this hall. Go ahead and assess the damages while I catch that.” She stalked to the kitchen and picked up the receiver. “Yes, Mama?”
    She glanced up irritably when Aaron, curious, followed her to the kitchen. He looked around and pretended to be studying the mess.
    “No, Mama, I haven’t had time to look for them. Listen, I can’t talk now. I have the exterminator here. Yes, I’ll look through every single magazine if I have to. If they’re here, I’ll find them. I promise.”
    Aaron brushed by her to bend and peer in the junky cabinets, where his two nephews had rummaged in their efforts to arm themselves. Perhaps he ought to live up to her billing and stomp on the big cockroach that ran across the floor.
    “What? Of course I’m safe. Why shouldn’t I be? No, Mama. The exterminator is not likely to do me a meanness. He’s a very sweet little man, barely five feet tall. I’ll call you back in a few minutes, okay? I have to get his estimate.”
    Aaron bit back a grin. She hadn’t been lying when she said she had an overprotective relative. How she managed to escape her mother to travel to Foxe, he had no idea.
    Aaron discovered an old plastic radio buried beneath the political magazines on the kitchen counter and switched it on. The sound of Becky Lozano’s clear voice singing her recent hit filled the small room: “ … protectin’ my baby from that adventuresome spirit … ”
    Felicity winced.
    Aaron switched off the radio. “What an exciting life you must lead. For your mother to worry this much about you … ” His voice trailed off suggestively.
    “Come this way, Mr. Whitaker. I’ve got better things to do than entertain you.”
    “Things like looking for the keys to that old lady’s safe deposit box?” He followed her back to the living room.
    “If she has one, it’ll sure take some searching to find the keys,” Felicity said. “As you can see, my grandmother was something of a pack rat.”
    “Better that than other things she might have been.” Aaron paused a moment for emphasis. “I suppose it’s a case of ‘like mother, like daughter.’”
    Felicity glanced back at him, forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. “I don’t think — ”
    “According to Mrs. Tucker, you’re just like your mother.”
    Her eyes went wide. She turned to stare at him, but any satisfaction he might have felt at hitting the nail on the head was vanquished when Felicity broke into unabashed, full-throated laughter. She collapsed on the sofa, still laughing.
    Aaron couldn’t figure it out. “Lady, you
are
a nutcase.”
    Felicity nodded in a solemn manner. “What can I say? It’s an inherited condition.”

Chapter 3
    “Felicity,” Pete called. “Let’s go look at the cow.”
    Felicity could think of many things she’d rather look at than a whole, butchered cow turning over a huge bed of red coals. She had never attended a genuine Texas barbecue before, and she would think twice before attending another.
    For one thing, the humid evening air was heavier than ever with the odor of mesquite smoke, roasting beef, and the ubiquitous little black bugs. For another, Whitaker Chevrolet had provided entertainment in the form of a country band with a predilection for Becky Lozano songs.
    Worse, Felicity could hardly keep her eyes off Whitaker Chevrolet’s CEO. Aaron looked like a