âI hear you were a wild man back in the day,â Claire said softly.
âWhereâd you hear that?â
âOut and about. You were a rodeo starâ¦?â
âYeah, I was.â Too close for comfort. Those days had ended up being the dark turning point of his life and he wasnât going to discuss them. Period. Brett popped the cork back into the bottle. He pushed it across the table towards her.
She stood. âYou keep it.â
âYouâll probably need it more than me.â He picked it up and pressed it into her hands.
âThanks for the help,â she said. âSee you around.â
He watched her walk down the path for a moment, admiring the subtle swing of her hips beneath the swirly skirt she wore.
Claire Flynn was not going to be good for his peace of mind.
NO ONE EXPECTED Claire Flynn to last long in Barlow Ridge. Even Claire had her doubts about making the transition to life in the tiny Nevada community, but she had sworn to herself that no matter how great the emergency or how dire the circumstances, she would not ask for help. It was a matter of pride.
And now here she was, going in search of help.
Drat.
She trudged up the rickety wooden steps leading to Brett Bishopâs front door. Technically he was her landlord and therefore the logical person to help her with domestic emergencies. But he was also her sisterâs new brother-in-law, and a bit of an enigma. An interesting combination, Claire mused as she raised her hand to knock on his weathered kitchen door. It opened before her knuckles touched wood.
Brett did not look pleased to see her, but then he never looked too pleased about anything. That enigma thing. Claire enjoyed enigmas.
âThereâs a snake in my house.â
His brown eyes became even more guarded than usual. âWhat kind of snake?â
âGrayish, no markings, maybe twelve to eighteen inches long. Very fast and uncooperative.â
It had scared the daylights out of her when sheâd moved a box and found it curled up in a corner. The feeling had apparently been mutual, since the creature had shot off toward the washing machine before Claireâs feet were back on the ground. It was then that sheâd decided to go for reinforcements. If her computer had been connected to the Internet, she might have done some quick research on snake removal, but it wasnât, so she took the cowardâs way out. When sheâd made her vow of independence, she hadnât factored in reptiles.
Brett regarded her for a moment, his mouth flattening exactly the way it had when sheâd made the mistake of flirting with him during their wedding-duty dance just over a year ago. And then he gave his dark head a fatalistic shake.
âLetâs go see what youâve got,â he said.
WHEN CLAIRE FLYNN SMILED, she looked like she knew a secret, and if you treated her right she might just tell you what it was. Brett did not want to know Claireâs secrets. Heâd had enough secrets for one lifetime.
He stepped out onto the porch, preparing himself for the inevitable. His brother, Will, had asked him to give Claire a hand when necessary, and Brett had agreed, but he hadnât anticipated snake removal as one of the services required.
âI appreciate this,â Claire said as he pulled the door shut behind him.
âNo problem.â But he did wonder how much more help she was going to need before her year of teaching was over. And he also wondered just how well she was going to fit into this small community, with her choppy blond hair and trendy clothing. Not many women in Barlow Ridge wore skirts that clung and swirled, strappy tops or flimsy sandals. In fact, none of them did. He imagined the locals were going to have a fine old time discussing her.
Claire walked briskly beside Brett as they left the homestead house and headed across the field toward the single-wide trailer she was now calling home. The field had just been mowed and baled with third-cutting alfalfa, so although the walking was easy, he expected the hay stubble was probably scratching up Claireâs bare ankles pretty good. She didnât say a word, though, which kind of surprised him.
And she hadnât whined about the condition of the trailerâthe only place to rent in Barlow Ridgeâwhich happened to sit on the edge of his hay field. Another surprise. The previous teacher to rent it, a guy named Nelson, had registered at least a complaint a day.