One of a Kind: Lionhearted / Letters to Kelly

She whistled softly. “You’re kidding!”

He glanced at her. “When I was in the Rangers, I flew overseas with a guy who was dressed all in black, armed to the teeth. He didn’t say a word to the rest of us. I learned later that he was brought over for a very select assignment with the British commandos.”

“What has that got to do with Grier?”

“That’s just the thing. I think it was Grier.”

She felt cold chills running up her arms.

“It was several years ago,” he reiterated, “and I didn’t get a close look, but sometimes you can tell a man just by the way he walks, the way he carries himself.”

“You shouldn’t tell anybody,” she murmured, uneasy, because she liked Grier.

“I never would,” Harley assured her. “I told my boss, but nobody else. Grier isn’t the sort of man you’d ever gossip about, even if half the things they tell are true.”

“There’s more?” she exclaimed.

He chuckled. “He was in the Middle East helping pinpoint the laser-guided bombs, he broke up a spy ring in Manhattan as a company agent, he fought with the freedom fighters in Afghanistan, he foiled an assassination attempt against one of our own leaders under the nose of the agency assigned to protect them… you name it, he’s done it. Including a stint with the Texas Rangers and a long career in law enforcement between overseas work.”

“A very interesting man,” she mused.

“And intimidating to our local law enforcement guys. Interesting that Judd Dunn isn’t afraid of him.”

“He’s protective of Christabel,” Janie told him. “She’s sweet. She was in my high school graduating class.”

“Judd’s too old for her,” Harley drawled. “He’s about Leo Hart’s age, isn’t he, and she’s just a few months older than you.”

He was insinuating that Leo was too old for her. He was probably right, but it hurt to hear someone say it. Nor was she going to admit something else she knew about Christabel, that Judd had married the girl when she was just sixteen so that she wouldn’t lose her home. Christabel was twenty-one and Judd had become her worst enemy.

“Sorry,” Harley said when he noticed her brooding expression.

“About what?” she asked, diverted.

“I guess you think I meant Leo Hart’s too old for you.”

“He is,” she said flatly.

He looked as if he meant to say more, but the sad expression on her face stopped him. He pulled into her driveway and didn’t say another word until he stopped the truck at her front door.

“I know how you feel about the guy, Janie,” he said then. “But you can want something too much. Hart isn’t a marrying man, even if his brothers were. He’s a bad risk.”

She turned to face him, her eyes wide and eloquent. “I’ve told myself that a hundred times. Maybe it will sink in.”

He grimaced. He traced a pattern on her cheek with a lean forefinger. “For what it’s worth, I’m no stranger to unreturned feelings.” He grimaced. “Maybe some of us just don’t have the knack for romance.”

“Speak for yourself,” she said haughtily. “I have the makings of a Don Juanette, as Leo Hart is about to discover!” He tapped her cheek gently. “Stop that. Running wild won’t change anything, except to make you more miserable than you are.”

She drew in a long breath. “You’re right, of course. Oh, Harley, why can’t we make people love us back?”

“Wish I knew,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I had fun. I’m sorry you didn’t.”

She smiled. “I did have fun. At least I didn’t end up at the ball by myself, or with Dad, to face Leo and Marilee.”

He nodded, understanding. “Where is your dad?”

“Denver,” she replied on a sigh. “He’s trying to interest a combine in investing in the ranch, but you can’t tell anybody.” He scowled. “I didn’t realize things were that bad.”

She nodded. “They’re pretty bad. Losing his prize bull was a huge financial blow. If Leo hadn’t loaned him that breeding bull, I don’t know what we’d have done. At least he likes Dad,” she added softly.

It was Harley’s opinion that he liked Fred Brewster’s daughter, too, or he wouldn’t have been putting away whiskey like that tonight. But he didn’t say it.

“Can I help?” he asked instead.

She smiled at him. “You’re so sweet, Harley. Thanks. But there’s not much we can do without a huge grubstake. So,” she added heavily, “I’m going to give up school and get a job.”

“Janie!”

“College is expensive,” she said simply. “Dad can’t really afford it right now, and I’m not going to ask him to try. There’s a job going at Shea’s…”

“You can’t work at Shea’s!” Harley exclaimed. “Janie, it’s a roadhouse! They serve liquor, and most nights there’s a fight.”

“They serve pizza and sandwiches, as well, and that’s what the job entails,” she replied. “I can handle it.”

It disturbed Harley to think of an innocent, sweet girl like Janie in that environment. “There are openings at fast-food joints in town,” he said.

“You don’t get good tips at fast-food joints. Stop while you’re ahead, Harley, you won’t change my mind,” she said gently.

“If you take the job, I’ll stop in and check on you from time to time,” he promised.

“You’re a sweetheart, Harley,” she said, and meant it. She kissed him on the cheek, smiled, and got out of the cab. “Thanks for taking me to the ball!”

“No sweat, Cinderella,” he said with a grin. “I enjoyed it, too. Good night!”

“Good night,” she called back.

She went inside slowly, locking the door behind her. Her steps dragging, she felt ten years older. It had been a real bust of an evening all around. She thought about Leo Hart and she hoped he had the king of hangovers the next morning!

The next day, Janie approached the manager of Shea’s, a nice, personable man named Jed Duncan, about the job.

He read over her résumé while she sat in a leather chair across from his desk and bit her fingernails.

“Two years of college,” he mused. “Impressive.” His dark eyes met hers over the pages. “And you want to work in a bar?”

“Let me level with you,” she said earnestly. “We’re in financial trouble. My father can’t afford to send me back to school, and I won’t stand by and let him sink without trying to help. This job doesn’t pay much, but the tips are great, from what Debbie Connor told me.”

Debbie was her predecessor, and had told her about the job in the first place. Be honest with Jed, she’d advised, and lay it on the line about money. So Janie did.

He nodded slowly, studying her. “The tips are great,” he agreed. “But the customers can get rowdy. Forgive me for being blunt, Miss Brewster, but you’ve had a sheltered upbringing. I have to keep a bouncer here now, ever since Calhoun Ballenger had it out with a customer over his ward—now his wife—and busted up the place. Not that Calhoun wasn’t in the right,” he added quickly. “But it became obvious that hot tempers and liquor don’t mix, and you can’t run a roadhouse on good intentions.”