Maverick vs. Maverick Read online

  Cold eyes stared back at him. One man crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Walker. Another woman shook her head and turned away.

  He widened his smile, loosened his stance. As easy and welcoming as a new neighbor. “And I can think of no better way to thank you all for your hospitality than a round on me.” A low cheer sounded from the back of the room. Walker smiled and put up a hand. “Now, I know a few beers won’t change much, and I don’t expect it to. I just want to say thank you. And if any of you have any questions, come on up to the bar. I’d sure like to meet the residents of Rust Creek Falls.”

  Just as he knew it would, the icy wall between himself and the other patrons began to thaw. A few stepped right up to the bar, giving him a thank-you as they placed their orders.

  “I figure it’s always a good idea to make friends with the guy buying the beer,” said a barrel-chested man with a thick beard and a red flannel shirt. “Elvin Houseman.”

  “Walker Jones.” They shook hands. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Elvin leaned in close to Walker’s ear. “Folks round here are gonna have a hard time trusting you. When those kids got sick over at the day care, it scared a lot of people.”

  “I’m doing my best to rectify that, Mr. Houseman.”

  The other man waved that off. “Nobody calls me Mr. Houseman. I’m just Elvin.”

  “Elvin, then.”

  Lani slid a beer across to Elvin. He raised it toward her, then toward Walker. “Thank you kindly. And best of luck to you with the town.” He gave Walker a little nod, then walked away.

  Walker glanced at Lindsay. She’d either ignored or hadn’t noticed the whole exchange. She also hadn’t ordered a fresh drink, not that he expected her to take advantage of the round on his tab, but clearly, she wasn’t won over like the other folks in the bar, nor did she seem to be intimidated by him. But there was a hint of surprise in her face. She clearly hadn’t expected him to outflank her by going straight to the town. Walker headed back to his table.

  Before he reached his seat, one of the giggling blondes who had come in earlier stood in front of him, her hips swaying to the music. She put her hands out. “Hey, would you like to dance? Come on, we need a man.”

  The blonde was pretty, probably no older than twenty-three or twenty-four. On any other day, she’d be the kind of diversion Walker would go for—no real commitment, nothing expected after the evening was over. He’d dated enough of that type of woman to know how it would go—a few drinks, a few laughs, a good time in bed and then back to real life.

  He wanted to say no, to tell her he had enough on his mind already, but then he reconsidered. Dancing with the local girl fed into his plan of ingratiating himself with the town, and would also show Lindsay Dalton an unexpected side of him. He wanted to keep the other lawyer as off balance as he could. If she didn’t know what to expect from him, the advantage would go to Walker.

  So he shrugged off his suit jacket, undid his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt, then rolled up his shirt sleeves. “Sure.”

  The blonde giggled again, then grabbed his hand. “It’s line dancing. Do you know how to do that?”

  “Follow your hips?”

  That made her laugh again. “Exactly.”

  The blonde and her trio of friends surrounded him, and the five of them moved from one side of the dance floor to the other, doing something the girls called a grapevine that they’d learned from that Billy Ray Cyrus video “Achy Breaky Heart.” Though he’d never danced like this before, it was fairly simple, and by the time the first verse was finished, Walker had most of the steps memorized.

  He had, however, all but forgotten the blonde. His gaze kept straying across the room to Lindsay Dalton, still sitting on the bar stool and chatting with her sister. He watched Lindsay, just to see if his plan was working, he told himself.

  He’d done a little research on his opponent in the hours after court. Lindsay Dalton, the youngest of six children, fresh from taking the bar exam and now working for her father’s firm. She had been successful with some very small cases she’d argued—a boundary line, something about a dog dispute, those kinds of things. Nothing as big as a lawsuit against a major national corporation, albeit one division of the Jones empire. Yet she hadn’t seemed too daunted in the courtroom. If anything, she’d impressed him with her attitude—like a kitten standing up to a tiger.

  Though the kitten wouldn’t even get to unsheathe its claws at the tiger, her attempt made him respect her. And made him wonder about her.

  Across the bar, Lindsay was laughing at something the bartender had said. He liked the sound of her laugh, light and lyrical, and the way it lit her face, put a little dash of a tease into her eyes. He knew he shouldn’t—she was the enemy, after all—but he really wanted to get to know her better.

  It was research, that was all. Figuring out what made the other side tick so he’d have a better chance in court.

  The blonde and her friends circled to the left at the same time that Lindsay started to cross the room. Walker stepped to the right and captured Lindsay’s hand. “Dance with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Dance...with you?”

  “Come on.” He swayed his hips and swung their arms. She stayed stiff, reluctant. He could hardly blame her. After all, just a few hours ago, they’d been facing off in court. “It’s the weekend. Let’s forget about court cases and arguments and just...”

  “Have fun?” She arched a brow.

  He shot her a grin. “I hear they do that, even in towns as small as Rust Creek Falls.”

  That made her laugh. Her hips were swaying along with his, though she didn’t seem to be aware she was moving to the beat. “Are you saying my town is boring?”

  Boring? She had no idea. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead he gave her his patented killer smile. “I’m saying it’s a small town. With some great music on the juke and a dance floor just waiting for you.” He lifted her hand and spun her to the right, then back out again to the left. “Come on, Ms. Dalton, dance with me. Me, the man, not me, the corporation you’re suing.”

  “I shouldn’t...” She started to slide her hand out of his.

  He stepped closer to her. “Shouldn’t have fun? Shouldn’t dance with the enemy?”

  “I shouldn’t do anything with the enemy.”

  He grinned, to show her he wasn’t all bad. Keep her on her toes, keep her from predicting him, and keep the advantage on his side. “I’m not asking for anything. Just a dance.”

  Another song came on the juke, and the blonde and her friends started up again, moving from one side of the dance floor to the other. Their movements swept Walker and Lindsay into the middle of the dance floor, leaving her with two choices—dance with him or wade through the other women to escape.

  For a second, he thought he’d won and she was going to dance with him. Then the smile on her face died, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, but I don’t dance with people who don’t take responsibility for their mistakes.”

  Then she turned on her heel and left the dance floor and a moment later, the bar.

  Walker tried to muster up some enthusiasm to dance with the other women—any man in his right mind would have taken that opportunity—but he couldn’t. He excused himself, paid his tab then left the bar. The victories he’d had today in court and later in the bar rang hollow in the cool night air.

  * * *

  Lindsay headed home, her stomach still in knots. She rolled down the driver side window of her sedan, letting in the fresh, crisp October Montana air, and tried to appreciate the clear, blank landscape ahead of her and the bright stars in the sky. But her mind kept going back to Walker Jones, to that moment in the bar.

  Had she almost danced with him?

  What was she thinking? He was the enemy, the one responsible for littl
e baby Georgina’s illness and scary hospital stay. Maybe not him personally, but his company, and the lack of standards at his day care centers, was indeed responsible. Not to mention how many of her letters and phone calls to Jones’s corporate headquarters had gone unanswered, as he clearly tried to ignore the problem or hoped it would go away. He’d been aware of the problem from the minute the outbreak happened in town, and yet he had done nothing. Hadn’t flown in to check on the day care, hadn’t responded to the worried parents.

  She had no interest in Walker Jones. No interest at all. And that little moment in the bar when he’d asked her to dance had been an anomaly, nothing more.

  Walker Jones thought he could buy her town through alcohol and joining in on a few line dances. Well, he could think again. Neither she nor Rust Creek Falls would be so easily swayed by that man.

  Lindsay headed into the ranch house where she’d grown up. She’d come back home to live after law school, partly because she needed to save money and partly because she’d missed her family. Now it was just her, her brother Travis and their parents. The house didn’t ring with the same noise as it did when Lindsay was young, but it still felt like home whenever she walked in the door.

  The scents of fresh-baked bread, some kind of deliciousness the family had earlier for dinner and her mother’s floral perfume filled the air. It was late, and her parents would have already gone to bed, but Lindsay saw a light on in the kitchen.

  “Hey, Trav,” she said to her brother as she entered the room. “What has you home early?”

  Travis was the one who was known for partying late, dating a new girl every week and living a little wilder than the rest of the Daltons. She adored her brother, but hoped he’d settle down one of these days. He was a good guy, and in Lindsay’s opinion, there were far too few of those in the world.

  “My date canceled. She got the flu. Didn’t feel like heading to the Ace, and so here I am.” He crossed to the fridge and pulled open the door. “Plus I heard Mom made meat loaf for dinner.”

  Lindsay laughed. “I knew it had to be something bigger than a date canceling.”

  “Hey, I don’t get my favorite dinner often enough.” He gave her the lopsided grin that had charmed dozens of women over the years. “Want a meat loaf sandwich?”

  “Nah, I’m good. I was just going to grab a glass of wine and head out to the back deck. It’s a nice night.” Hundreds of thoughts and worries jockeyed for space in her mind. She needed some fresh air, some open space. The soft nicker of the horses in the stable, the whisper of a breeze across her face. Not the confines of the kitchen.

  Travis handed her the open bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator door. “Wine on a weeknight? Must have been a hell of a bad day.”

  “It’s Friday night, so technically it’s the weekend.” She didn’t mention that she’d already had a couple of glasses at the Ace in the Hole. Nor did she admit Travis might be right.

  “Yeah, right. You, little sister, are about as wild as a house cat lying in the sun.” He grinned, then started assembling his sandwich. A thick slice of meat loaf on top of some homemade white bread, then ketchup and a second slice. “Except when you were dating Jeremy back in college and thinking about running off to the big city.”

  The two of them walked out to the back deck and sat in the Adirondack chairs that faced the wide expanse of the ranch. In the dark, it seemed like the Dalton land stretched forever. The sight was calming, reassuring. “I never thought about running off to the big city,” Lindsay said. “That was Jeremy’s idea.”

  Her former fiancé had been smart and witty and driven. She’d met him in law school and liked him from the start. Then, as they neared graduation, he’d told her he had no intentions of living in Montana. He wanted to move to New York and practice law in a place that made him feel alive. For Lindsay, life was here, in the rich soil, the graceful mountains, the clean air. She never wanted to live anywhere else.

  “You know, I still keep in touch with old Jer,” Travis said. He’d met her fiancé on a visit to see Lindsay, and they’d become fast friends. “He did move to New York. Doing pretty well up there and working in corporate law.”

  Lindsay sat back against the chair and looked up at the stars dotting the night sky. “I’m glad for him. I really am.”

  “And over him?”

  She cast a curious glance in Travis’s direction. “Yeah. But why are you asking? You have that tone.”

  “What tone?” He gave her an I’m innocent look, the one he’d perfected when he was a kid and always in trouble for breaking a vase or missing curfew. Their mother usually just laughed and let Travis off with an easy punishment.

  “The one that says you want to convince me to do something crazy.” When she’d been younger, she’d gone along with Travis’s ideas—camping overnight by a stream, climbing a tree, catching frogs. But their paths had diverged as she grew up and went to college and Travis...

  Well, he went on being Travis. Lovable but irresponsible.

  “Last I heard, you almost did do something crazy,” her brother said. “A little bird—or in my case, a little blonde college coed I used to date—texted and told me you were dancing with a stranger at the Ace tonight. She was a tiny bit jealous, because, in her exact words, ‘I had that man first.’”

  Lindsay blew her bangs out of her face. “These are the moments when I do wish I lived in a big city. Geesh, does everyone in Rust Creek Falls know how I spent my Friday night? And for your information, I wasn’t dancing with him. He asked, and I said no.”

  Well, sort of said no. There’d been a moment there when she’d been swaying to the music. She’d been tempted, too tempted, to slip into Walker Jones’s arms and swing around that dance floor.

  “You should have said yes.” Travis got to his feet and gathered up his empty plate. He paused at the door and turned back to face her. “You’re a great lawyer, sis. Smarter than half the people I know. But you don’t take enough risks, don’t get your hands dirty often enough. Life is about jumping in with both feet, not standing on the edge and dipping in a toe from time to time.”

  Jumping in with both feet was foolhardy and risky, two things Lindsay normally shied away from. But for a moment on that dance floor tonight, she’d been both.

  She sipped at the wine and watched the stars, so bright and steady in the sky, and told herself there was nothing wrong with being a calm house cat sitting in the sun. Because in the end, that house cat didn’t make foolish choices that brought her far too close to enemy lines.

  Chapter Three

  Walker watched his brother polish off two plates of eggs and a pile of crispy bacon before he launched into a teetering pile of pancakes. Walker had stuck to a couple pieces of toast and some coffee, his usual breakfast choice. He’d never been much of a morning eater, but his brother Hudson—he could eat all day and still be hungry at bedtime.

  The food and accommodations at Maverick Manor, where Walker had decided to stay last night, were outstanding. When he’d spent a night here a few months ago, he’d been surprised. He’d expected something more...primitive, given the size of Rust Creek Falls, but the two-story log cabin–style resort rivaled any five-star hotel Walker had stayed at before. Owned by a local, Nate Crawford, the resort showed the love Nate had for the place at every turn. It had wraparound porches, big windows in every room and expansive views of the beautiful Montana landscape. He’d almost felt like he was staying in a tree house when he woke up this morning—if a tree house was big enough to hold one of the comfiest king-size beds Walker had ever slept in. The rooms were filled with overstuffed, comfortable furniture, all decorated in natural hues of beige and brown, the perfect complement to the log walls.

  There’d been a copy of The Rust Creek Falls Gazette, the local paper, outside his door, filled with the usual small-town stuff—birth announcements, cows for sa
le, missing pickup trucks. It was all hokey stuff, making him wonder if these people were either a town full of Pollyannas or simply immune to the real world, where the front-page story wasn’t about a prize mare giving birth to twin foals.

  Either way, Walker wanted to leave Rust Creek Falls as quickly as possible. The whole place grated on his nerves. The sooner he got back to Tulsa and the day-to-day operations of his business, the better, which meant not delaying the reason for this meeting, even for pancakes.

  “Let’s talk about the day care,” Walker said. He waved off the waitress’s offer of more coffee.

  Hudson pushed his empty plate to the side, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Things are going great.”

  “As in, you’re there every day and are verifying that with your own eyes?”

  Hudson shrugged, avoided Walker’s gaze. “Well, yeah, more or less.”

  Walker’s shoulders tensed. He’d trusted his brother—and had thought it was a mistake from the start. But his father had said it would be a good idea to give Hudson a piece of the family business. Get him more involved, more invested, before their father stepped down entirely. This past year, his father had put Walker in the CEO position, while his dad took on the role of Chairman of the Board. The elder Jones continued to leave his fingerprints all over the company, as if he was still in charge. Walker hoped that once both he and his brother were part of the company, their father would ease up. But thus far, Hudson hadn’t displayed the same love for business. Hudson was a good man, a hard worker, but clearly had no desire to be involved with the family business like Walker did. Maybe Walker had read his brother wrong, and made a mistake involving him in the day care franchise.

  Walker leased the building from Hudson, who owned the land it sat on. Walker had hired Bella to be a part-time manager, expecting Hudson to fill in the gaps. “What does more or less mean?”