LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Two

      By the time Lex gathered himself enough to go after her, Christina was already heading back to the front porch and his mother.

      Fortunately, he caught the woman before she reached the foyer and, with a hand around her fragile wrist, led her stiff, unyielding body over to a chesterfield couch.

      “No matter what you think of me at this moment,” he said as he eased down beside her, “I can’t allow you to go out there and tell Mom the two of us can’t work together.”

      One copper-colored brow arched upward. “Give me one good reason not to,” she requested.

      “I don’t want to hurt her. Not for any reason.”

      Approval flickered in her eyes, and Lex was surprised at how good the sight of it made him feel.

      “I’m glad you’re putting her feelings first,” she said.

      “I promise you, Christina,” he said, “I always care about my mother’s feelings. I just…this whole thing about digging into Dad’s death is hard for me. But I promise to help you in any way I can.”

      Her hand reached over and covered his, and Lex had the greatest urge to lift her fingers to his lips, to taste her smooth skin. But he didn’t. He could already see that she was intelligent and strong-minded, not the sort of woman he could easily charm into a brief, pleasant beguilement.

      “Thank you for that, Lex,” she said quietly and started to rise.

      Lex caught her by the hand, causing her gaze to lift to his. The direct connection jolted him in a way that felt totally odd. Being with Christina Logan was making him feel like a teenage virgin, which was a bit ridiculous. He’d made love to many attractive females before. There wasn’t any reason for Christina to be raising his pulse rate just by looking him in the eye.

      “Just a minute, Christina. I—” He passed his thumb along the back of her hand and momentarily savored the feel of her creamy skin. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about your brother. I can’t imagine what it must feel like—the not knowing about him.”

      She let out a heavy breath, and from the shadows that suddenly crossed her face, Lex could plainly see the emotional toll the tragedy had taken on her.

      “The not knowing is the worst part,” she admitted.

      The need to help her, to ease her grief somehow, hit Lex in a totally unexpected way, and for a brief second, the feeling staggered him. “I’d like for you to tell me about him sometime,” he invited.

      “Sometime, I will.” Smiling wanly, she pulled her hand away from his grasp and rose to her feet. “I think now we’d better join your mother before she begins to wonder where we’ve gotten off to.”

      The next morning Christina was sitting in a small office located on the west side of the house. Information regarding Paul Saddler’s case was stacked on the floor in countless cardboard boxes and plastic storage containers. But at the moment she wasn’t digging through any of it. Instead, she was on the phone to a friend.

      Olivia Mills was a criminal lawyer, an associate of the San Antonio firm of Mills, Wagner & Murray. Several years ago, when Christina had stumbled onto some information that had proved a client of Olivia’s innocent, the two women had become fast friends. And when Christina had decided to go into the private investigation business, Olivia had encouraged her to get an office in the same building as the firm’s. As a result, Christina picked up many of the investigative jobs the firm often required.

      “So tell me about the place,” Olivia urged. “Is it anything like you expected?”

      Christina settled back in the leather desk chair. “Not exactly. It’s much larger than I imagined. If you drove forty miles in any direction you’d probably still be on Sandbur land. In fact, the ranch is organized into two divisions. The one with the house and working ranch yard, where I’m staying, is called the Goliad Division, and the western half of the property is the Mission River Division.”

      “Incredible. What’s the house like?”

      “Grandeur, but comfortable. It’s a two-story hacienda and so large that I couldn’t begin to count the number of rooms it has.”

      “Sounds like a lot of old money.”

      “It is. But these people are very unpretentious and laidback, Ollie.”

      “That would be a relief for me.”

      Yes, it was a relief that the Saddlers weren’t snobs. But maybe it would have been easier on her state of mind if Lex had been a snooty sort of person, she thought. Picking up a pencil, Christina began to doodle in a small open notebook. “So far they’ve treated me very nearly like family.”

      “Lucky dog,” Olivia replied. “None of this sounds like work to me. I’ve always wanted to visit a big working ranch—just to see if those cowboys look as good in the rough as they do in pictures.”

      Christina bit back a sigh. She should be thanking God for this cushy job, which had virtually fallen into her lap, but this morning she wasn’t at all convinced that she should be here. Not because she doubted her ability to find the cause of Paul’s questionable death, but more because of the impact Lex Saddler was having upon her. She couldn’t get the man out of her head.

      “Believe me, Ollie, this case is not exactly simple. I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”

      “So you don’t know how long you’ll be staying on the ranch?”

      She began to draw a horse, then a man wearing a pair of chaps. “No longer than necessary. I want to wrap this thing up as quickly as possible.”

      There was a long pause, and she could hear a frown in Olivia’s voice when the other woman finally spoke.

      “Is anything wrong? I’ve never heard you talk this way before. Normally, you’re happily willing to invest whatever time it takes to wrap up a job.”

      Christina glanced at the open door to the office while wondering if any of the maids or family members might be within earshot. To be on the safe side, she lowered her voice to nearly a whisper. “Ollie, I’m just not comfortable here. Ms. Saddler’s son is not at all what I expected. In fact, he’s been—quite a shock.”

      “Oh?” Olivia sounded intrigued. “What’s wrong with the man?”

      Christina pressed the fingertips of her right hand to her forehead. She’d hardly gotten four hours of sleep last night, and the lack of rest was already catching up to her. “If you don’t count single, sexy and flirtatious as problems, then he’s okay. I thought he was going to be a businessman, Ollie. And he is—but he’s not exactly the desk sort. He’s a cowboy. He wears boots and spurs and gets sweaty and dusty just like the other cowhands.”

      Olivia

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