The Moment He Saw Her - Preview

Chapter One

 

“I had to choose a career that has me up at the ass crack of dawn,” Ryder Duke muttered as he got out of his car. He wasn’t a morning person but had learned to be. But some days were harder than others—this being one of them. If he’d continued drifting and still been clueless as to his next move, he could be in bed.

His hometown was in the grip of winter, and this morning was a cold one. Around him, Lyntacky was coming awake as the sun rose behind the snowcapped mountains. He stopped to look at the sight, marveling as he did every morning over the awesome display nature put on.

Shutting the driver’s side door, Ryder didn’t bother locking it. Anyone stupid enough to steal from a Duke deserved the trouble they’d end up in.

“Morning!”

That overly enthusiastic greeting came from Bart and June Matilda as they disappeared off into the distance at a brisk walk, both wearing those headband things that girls seemed to favor along with fur-lined boots at the first sign of winter.

“Morning!” he yelled. You crazy idiots.

Squinting down the main street of Lyntacky, he watched a white car appear and then crawl toward him making a clunking noise, which couldn’t be good.

Nudging up the brim of his ball cap, Ryder saw it stutter twice and then stop fifty yards up the road from where he stood. He thought about just unlocking the front door and getting inside his cafe because it was freezing. He hadn’t even had his morning coffee yet despite the house he’d bought being only a five-minute drive away. But he’d been raised better than that, and if it were someone he cared about in that vehicle, he’d want them to receive help. Ryder walked to the car and tapped on the window. The plates told him it was a rental.

A face looked up at him, but he couldn’t make out much. The sun hadn’t risen fully, and her window was misted up. He tapped it again and then made a lowering movement with his hand.

It moved two inches.

“You okay?” Ryder asked.

“What do you want?”

“To help you,” he said with far more patience than he felt.

“Why?”

“Because I watched your car limp down the street and stop,” Ryder snapped, not feeling his usual accommodating self right then because of the cold and lack of caffeine.

“My car just stopped,” she said.

“That happens when it’s out of fuel or—”

“I know when a car needs fuel!”

He only just bit back the sigh. “Do you need help or not?” Ryder said. She said something that was muffled.

“Lower the window,” he said with more force than necessary because talking through a two-inch gap was pissing him off. It moved a few more inches. “Are you from a big city?”

“What?” Her voice was low and husky.

“Usually big-city people don’t trust easy.”

“Women don’t trust easy,” she shot back.

“With good reason, but I don’t want to hurt you,” Ryder said through his teeth. “Look. I will help you if you need it. If you don’t, then I’m going into my cafe.” He pointed to it. When she said nothing, he added, “Come in there if you need help, to warm up, or coffee because I’m not standing out here any longer. I need to start baking.”

Ryder stomped away, pulled out his keys, and unlocked the front door of the Swing Through Cafe. Walking in, he flicked on lights and turned on the heating to warm the place. Looking around him, he felt the usual pride. Mine.

His sister, Zoe, an interior designer, had bullied him to go with timid white, which was, by anyone else’s standards, cream, with a feature wall of dark rustic wood paneling. Artwork was dotted about the place that he’d picked, and Zoe approved. There was a wide polished wood counter, on which his coffee machine sat, and a few cabinets he stocked with food daily. Tables had comfortable chairs pushed up to them. Chairs, his mother said, were important for people in Lyntacky, as they had a large elderly population. Some of them had bad joints, and good chairs were a requirement, apparently, for comfort.

After switching on the coffee machine—Meadow would be here soon and want her weird latte with coconut milk and no caffeine—he tied an apron around his waist and started work, putting whoever the suspicious woman in that car was from his head. He’d done all he could. She wasn’t his problem.

An hour later, he had most of his prep done and things in the oven, so he headed out of the kitchen to make his first coffee. The door opened just as he was pouring in the steamed milk.

His first glimpse of her was hunched shoulders and a pale face as she entered, closing the door behind her. Her eyes then did a sweep of the cafe before settling on him. One hand tugged the black hat from her head, which told Ryder she’d been raised by someone who told her to take it off inside.

Beautiful, he thought, with soft-arched brows and high cheekbones. Her hair was shoulder-length, caramel-colored, and he saw some golden bits that Zoe would call highlights. She wasn’t close enough to see her eyes, but he thought they may be blue or green. She was on the short side, but then most people were to him, as his family was tall.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

Her white puffy jacket came to her waist, and he doubted it or the black fitted pants beneath offered much in the way of warmth. White sneakers, too, which probably meant her toes were frozen.

If he were to label her with one look, he’d say she was what his brother Dan would call a pick-me girl. Someone who wore all the labels and, to quote his mother, was trendy. She also had a tan in the middle of winter that may or may not be out of a bottle.

“Have you been sitting in that car for an hour with no heating?”

She nodded.

Pride or stupidity—he didn’t know her well enough to decide that either.

“Do you need me to call someone to come and get you?”

She shook her head.

“Want a coffee to thaw out?”

“Yes, please.”

The words sounded desperate to Ryder, so he held out the mug he’d just made for himself. “Have at it.”

She took the bag off her shoulder and opened it.

“On me,” he added.

Her eyes went to his, narrowed. “I can pay.”

“It’s on the house. I figure you have enough to deal with.” He nodded in the direction of her car.

“No, really, I can pay.”

“Are you always this untrusting, or is it just something about me?” He felt a niggle of annoyance that his gesture wasn’t appreciated.

“I don’t know you,” she said, reaching the counter. Her nails were long and painted the color of raspberries, her hands slender, and wrists a little on the skinny side, with a slim gold link bracelet around one. One ring on her middle right-hand finger was a gold band with an enormous diamond.

It looked real, but then he didn’t know shit about diamonds. She had that look of money to him.

Taking the mug from him, she cradled it like it were her firstborn. The first mouthful had her moaning softly.

When he was done making his coffee, Ryder looked at her again. Her eyes were green, like the emerald engagement ring his dad had given Mom. Long dark lashes and a small nose. A scar ran along the edge of her jaw to just below her ear. Recent, he thought, and would have taken several stitches to close.

As if she noted his gaze, she tugged her hair forward to cover it.

“So being untrusting must make life hard,” he said.

“It makes me safe, and I don’t know you,” she said, looking at him now. He wondered what life lesson had taught her she needed to be.

“Ryder Duke,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Sorry?”

“My name is Ryder Duke.”

“Libby.”

“No last name?”

“Ah… yes, it’s Gulliver,” she said, not sounding sure that was her name, and he wondered if it was her real one or if she’d made it up. Then he wondered why she would.

“So, Libby Gulliver, I know you’re not from around here, so what are you doing in Lyntacky at the ass crack of dawn?”

Ryder watched as she dropped her eyes again.

“Just passing through.”

“To where?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m just on a vacation.”

“Good morning!”

Meadow McAllister breezed in, dressed in a long pink-and-orange caftan. Her jacket had to belong to one of her sons because it was way too big. Around her neck was a green wool scarf the color of rotten cabbage. She wore thick knitted socks and sandals on her feet.

Ryder admired her simply because she held true to her values, even if they made him shudder sometimes.

“What a beautiful day!”

Meadow was the future mother-in-law of Ryder’s oldest brother, Sawyer. A hippy right down to her toes, she lived on the outskirts of town off the grid with her husband, a menagerie of animals, and all the organic fruit and vegetables a person could need.

“Are we opening early today, Ryder?” Meadow arrived at the counter in a whirl of color and earthy scents, looking at Libby. “I know the Curlers would be happy if we did so.”

“No. Libby Gulliver, this is Meadow McAllister. Libby’s car broke down,” Ryder said. “She’s thawing out in here.”

“Oh dear, well, that’s not good at all. Are you vacationing in our wonderful town?”

Ryder loved Lyntacky because his roots were here, along with everyone he cared about, but in no way could it be termed a top-ten vacation destination, unless you were into adventure sport or square dancing.

Meadow thought her town the best in America and was sure to tell anyone who asked.

“I think so.” Libby was eyeing Meadow like she was a foreign species she didn’t know how to communicate with. “For a few days at least, yes,” she added with more certainty.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place to start off your vacation. The Swing Through Cafe has the best baked goods and coffee in town.” Meadow leaned toward Libby. “But don’t tell any of the other food places I said that.”

Meadow was the best baker in Lyntacky as far as Ryder was concerned, and he was a close second, so when she’d wandered in one day and asked if he needed her help in making his cafe a zone of peace and harmony, he’d told her to give it her best shot. Then he’d found her out back helping his niece, Ally, put together some muffins. After tasting one, Ryder had asked her if she’d wanted a job. She’d informed him she’d take it until the wind blew her in another direction.

As he had no idea what the fuck that meant, he’d said great.

“Libby, dear, your aura needs cleansing. You have a lot of negative energy,” Meadow added, digging around in the enormous bag she carried with her everywhere. “Hold out your hand.”

Libby shot Ryder a look that was full of panic. He smiled and nodded. Silently communicating to her to just roll with it.

“I’ll make your turmeric latte, Meadow,” he said.

“Lovely. Ah, here it is.” Meadow came out with a necklace. Leather, with a stone on the bottom. “Amethyst, Libby. The spiritual community believe that wearing or carrying amethyst will attract calm and peace.” She then placed it over Libby’s head. “Excellent. Now I need to get baking.”

Meadow floated off toward the kitchens.

“Don’t try to understand that, just roll with it,” Ryder said when Libby dragged her eyes from Meadow and looked at him. “I’ve known her all my life and still don’t understand her.”

“It was very nice of her,” she said, touching the stone with the hand not clutching the coffee.

“Very nice,” Ryder said solemnly.

“I should go.”

“Where to?” he asked.

“I need a place to stay. Then get my car fixed.”

“It’s a rental, so the company will fix it.”

“I need it, so I’ll fix it, and they don’t need to know.”

Ryder shrugged and then pulled out his phone and found a number. Hitting the Call button, he waited.

“Hey, Bob, got a lady here who wants to talk to you.” Ryder held out his phone. “It’s the local mechanic,” he said.

She looked shocked again, like she had when Meadow had put the rock around her neck, but took the phone.

Ryder started making Meadow’s insipid drink while Libby talked to Bob the mechanic. He tried to pick her accent. It had a Southern sound to it, but there was a slight difference.

“Thank you, Mr.—”

“Just Bob,” Ryder said, taking his phone.

“Right.” She frowned, which produced a line down her forehead. “Bob is going to pick up my rental, which is very kind of him. So I need to get my bag and find somewhere to stay.”

She spoke in a slow, concise way, like she had to think about every word before it came out of her mouth.

“Bob’s a good guy. Want me to call the Circle Left for you?”

“What is a Circle Left?”

“Accommodation, and it’s clean.”

She licked her lips, then clutched the coffee cup tighter.

“You all good?” Ryder asked.

Exhaling slowly, she nodded. “I wondered if you need someone to wash your dishes?”

 

 

Chapter Two

 

He heard the first strains of music because Tripp Lyntacky had put a speaker on a pole near his cafe.

“Aw, come on,” he muttered.

“If you have no positions available—”

“No, it’s not that. Hear that music, Libby Gulliver?”

“Yes, it’s coming from somewhere outside.”

“Have you ever square-danced?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“Well, you’re about to learn.” Ryder stomped around the counter. “Got gloves?” She nodded. “Put them on. If you spend any time in this town, Libby, you’ll become familiar with that music. Long story short, it’s in the town rules you have to dance when you hear it.”

“Ah, are you okay?” She started backing away from him.

“Believe me, sweetheart, I’m not the crazy in this town. Now let’s go.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll just move on and find a place—”

“You try and make a run for it, and they’ll lock you up. Our mayor, Tripp Lyntacky, had an aunt who loved square dancing. You may have seen Shelly’s statue on the way in?” Ryder looked down at the woman he was nudging toward the door, and she shook her head. “Well, you’re going to know everything about her before you leave.”

He opened the door and urged her out into the cold morning air.

“I really don’t want to dance,” Libby said.

“Anyone unlucky enough to be within Lyntacky’s borders at this moment has to dance the grapevine twist or be locked up. You see, Shelly used to practice for the national square dance championships in the streets here, and when she died, her relatives decided to honor her memory by tormenting us.”

“I have no idea what to say to that, and your little town is not my town, so I don’t have to do anything.”

Ryder was often annoyed about his town, but no way in hell did he tolerate anyone looking down their nose at it. There had been a definite sneer in Libby Gulliver’s words when she’d said the words “little town.”

“Well, you go on, then, and take a walk up the street and see how far that gets you,” he muttered.

People were stomping out of warm buildings, puffs of white coming from their mouths as they cursed under their breaths.

“I’ll put something on Tripp’s next pizza that makes him sorry he dragged us out here in these temperatures,” Enzo Barone, the pizza shop owner next to Ryder, said as he towed his wife, Aria, toward the small group forming.

“Good morning, everyone. A little exercise will start your day the right way.”

“LouJean, no offense or anything, but not everyone is a morning person,” Ryder said. “This is not the way I want to start the day.”

The woman tsked but added nothing further. Her eyes then moved to Libby Gulliver, and Ryder saw the wheels turning in her head.

“This is Libby. Her car broke down, so I made her coffee. She’s thinking of walking and not dancing,” he said, stomping out any gossip before it started that she was his girl and setting LouJean on her.

“Libby, hello, dear. How unfortunate that your car broke down,” LouJean said. “But you can’t walk away when the music starts. Everyone has to dance to honor Shelly.”

Shock was the only word he could label Libby’s expression with. Her eyes went to him, then around the people milling before them. Some were stomping their feet; others blowing into their hands to warm their noses.

“I hope Bob can fix your car for you, dear.”

“Thank you.”

At least she had manners under that makeup and tan.

“Right. Just follow me, and don’t trip,” Ryder said brusquely.

“I could just watch, then, and not walk away.”

“You think I was joking about being arrested?” She nodded. “My uncle is the chief of police, and my brother a deputy. Trust me, it will happen.”

“You’re not serious?” Her eyes locked on his, and he noted one had a patch of hazel to the right of the pupil.

“Deadly. Small towns, sweetheart, there’s a whole lot of crazy that goes with the good.”

“Amen.”

These words came from Luca Barone, eldest son of Aria and Enzo. He was bundled into a thick jacket and had his eyes on Libby.

“We’ve had this conversation, Luca. No women until you finish your studies. Your mom’s orders, remember?” Ryder told him.

The kid muttered, his mother cuffed him, and they danced.

“No one would believe me if I recounted this,” Libby said, gripping his fingers tight.

He wasn’t sure why the words annoyed him, as they mirrored his thoughts, but something about this woman did exactly that, and again, he wasn’t sure why.

“Have you been doing this all your life?” she asked.

Ryder had seen tourists who were clueless when it came to dance or rhythm. Libby was not one of those. She moved instinctively and had the dance down within seconds of starting.

“Yup. Picture this. In the back seat of my car with—”

“I don’t think you need to tell me this story,” she said in a frosty voice, which made him want to continue.

“And just reaching third base—”

“In the main street? That’s a bit reckless. Surely anyone could see you,” Libby cut him off.

“We were around the back of the shops. Are you a rule follower, Libby Gulliver?”

“That’s none of your business,” she muttered to his back. He was sure she’d added, “Not that it’s done me any good.”

“I pulled up my zipper too fast, and….”

She gasped so loud that Phil the electrician said, “Spill, Duke. We could all use a laugh, seeing as it’s freezing and some fool is making us dance.” He wore overalls, two sweaters, and a balaclava.

“Tripp is no fool!” LouJean said.

“Let the arguing begin,” Ryder said.

There were four people in the next group who had no clue how to do the dance, and all were wearing matching T-shirts over their winter clothes with the words “Never trust an old person with a broom.” Then underneath it was “Curling is life.”

“I can’t believe you said that,” Libby whispered.

“What?” He shot her a look that suggested he knew exactly what he’d said.

Her lips clamped into a disapproving line, confirming his thoughts that Libby Gulliver could be a good girl who was easily shocked.

“The zipper thing. I don’t even know you,” she said as quietly as she could but so he still heard. “It’s like I’ve stepped into some kind of different universe.”

“You don’t talk to total strangers about zipping your—”

“Stop!”

“Stop what?” Jett Hyland said. He held Libby’s other hand and had a look in his eyes that Ryder didn’t like very much. He gave him one back that had the plumber smiling.

 Libby clipped the back of Ryder’s boot, and he turned to steady her.

“Thank you.”

Looking down into those pretty green eyes, Ryder had a feeling Libby Gulliver could be trouble for someone in his town, not him, if she was sticking around. Thankfully, he doubted she would for long, because she was exactly the kind of woman his youngest brother, Dan, fell for. He wondered what had brought her to Lyntacky?

“That fool Larry Limpet came to cribbage last night and brought a box of oysters unshucked,” LouJean said. “I tell you, what was I supposed to do with those smelly things?”

“At a guess, eat them?” Ryder said.

“You watch your mouth, Ryder Duke.” She waggled a finger at him.

“Yes, ma’am, but you did ask the question.”

“He has a fair point,” Jett said.

“So, you ready for the Lynpicks, Ryder?” Enzo asked him. “I have money on you, Red, Tripp, and Phoebe to win, seeing as you’re the curling A team.”

Lyntacky loved baseball, and when there was snow on the ground, they played winter sports, like curling. Tripp and some others had created an event they were calling the Lynpicks this year, which would run over several days and was their own version of the Olympics. Really, though, it would be nothing like it. Other towns had entered, and people would fly or drive in to compete.

There would be a relay down the main street with curling, skittles, archery, and whatever else the town elders had thought up.

Jed Knox said he was competing in archery, which had everyone groaning, because last time he’d shot an arrow, he’d nearly put it through his wife, who’d been stupid enough to stand within ten feet of the man while he had a bow in his hand.

The Lynpicks was really just an excuse to eat and drink a lot, but the locals would enjoy it, as would any tourists in town.

“Yeah, we’ve been practicing, and we’re ready,” Ryder said.

“Well, I’m sure Tripp won’t mind if you can’t dance and need more practice,” Enzo added. “Winning is important, Ryder.”

“Got that, thanks, Enzo.”

Lyntacks, as the locals called themselves, liked to win at all costs.

“How are you feeling, Libby?” Meadow asked as she added a little flair to her moves by jumping and hopping a few steps.

“I’m well, thank you, Meadow.”

“Excellent, that amethyst must be working.”

Libby nodded, looking nervous and totally freaked out by what was playing out around her.

“She’s just being friendly.” His words came out hard.

She frowned. “I know that.”

“Like I said, you’re a big-city girl, right?”

“I’m not sure what that’s got to do with anything,” Libby snapped.

“It means you don’t know how small towns work. We like each other here,” Ryder added.

“That’s insulting to all big cities, but then I guess you don’t leave town often,” she hissed back.

“My mom took me on a road trip to the next town, does that count?” Ryder mocked her.

“Jett, you tell your mom to bring her crochet patterns to club tomorrow,” LouJean said. “I’ve a hankering to create something.”

“Will do,” Jett said, light on his feet considering he was wearing work boots.

“I should leave and find somewhere to stay,” Libby said as the music stopped.

“Not sure much will be open yet,” Ryder said, walking back to his cafe. She could stay or go—that was on her. “I can make you another coffee, but this time you pay.”

“Have I offended you in some way?”

Her phone rang as he was about to answer, so he kept moving.

“You going to answer that?” he said when she followed him through the door.

“No.”

Ryder hated it when people didn’t answer their phones, unless they had a good reason not to. But his real pet peeve was when he was texting someone and called them, and they didn’t pick up.

“Sure seems like whoever is calling is determined to speak to you,” he said on the sixth ring.

She moved away from him and shook her hands twice before taking the phone out of her pocket. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to have. It looked like a burner phone. Inexpensive and easily tossed in the trash. He’d pegged her to have the latest model. Maybe she was on the run or negotiating some big drug deal? No, she didn’t look like a criminal to him, but then he’d been fooled before.

Ryder headed for the coffee machine and watched Libby.

She said something he couldn’t hear, then looked up at his ceiling briefly before shaking her head.

Libby Gulliver had secrets, which most people did. He had at least two that his family had never found out, and that was because he’d never spoken them out loud to anyone. But Ryder was sure she was running from something, and it wasn’t his problem to find out what. She was pretty much everything he stayed clear of when it came to women: all about appearance and thought life stopped outside big cities.

“I’ll take a coffee to finish my walk, thanks, Ryder,” LouJean said, bustling in at full speed, like she did most things.

“First batch is ready!” Meadow said, carrying a tray to the cabinets. The smell wafted to Ryder, and he realized he hadn’t eaten yet. Shooting Libby a look, he wondered when she’d had her last meal, and then he wondered why he cared.

“What are those?” LouJean asked, moving to inspect them.

“Scones with orange and date.”

“Scones, not muffins?” The woman didn’t look convinced about his baked goods.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Ryder said, putting the lid on her coffee.

“Well, all right, but I prefer the raspberry-chocolate muffins.”

“It’s not even opening time, LouJean, give me a break here. I haven’t got the cabinets loaded yet because our mayor made me dance on the icy street in frigid conditions,” Ryder said.

“You young’uns need more stamina,” LouJean said, taking the bag Meadow handed her. “I’ll try this and let you know what I think.”

“As you can imagine, your opinion means everything to me, LouJean,” Ryder said solemnly.

She moved to where he stood and then leaned over the counter to pat his cheek. “You’ve got a smart mouth, young man.”

He gave her a kiss on one ice-cold, paper-thin cheek.

LouJean left clutching a coffee in one hand and the bag holding a scone in the other.

Ryder’s eyes went back to Libby, who was now pacing between tables. Head lowered, she was speaking quietly into the phone again, and then suddenly she stopped, stabbed a finger at the keypad, and shoved it back into her pocket. She shot him a look, and he saw the tears. Libby then blinked, and they were gone.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Libby couldn’t believe she’d just danced in the street, and that was after her car had broken down and she’d ended up in the Swing Through Cafe. Today had started out bad and gone downhill from there.

“Do you want another coffee?” Ryder Duke asked her when she reached the counter.

“Yes, please.” Libby was sure that today she’d never have enough coffee… or warm up completely.

She’d given her youngest sister the number for the phone she’d purchased the day Libby had walked out on her wedding to stop her family from worrying. Of course, after her actions, they’d be doing that, but at least they’d know she was safe.

Savannah had made it clear their father was not impressed with what she’d done and the humiliation she’d brought down on the Gulliver family with her actions. He wanted her to come home, but she wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“Okay there, Libby?”

“Yes.” She inhaled slowly, counting to four, and then exhaled, doing the same.

“You sure about that?”

She nodded and then made herself smile, knowing it looked as fake as it felt.

Ryder Duke was one of those men that were effortlessly good-looking. High chiseled cheekbones, dark brows and lashes, and deep brown eyes. It was a face women would take a second look at, if they hadn’t just ruined their life beyond repair.

His ball cap was black with a logo, and he had light brown hair that was a little long and curled up over the edges at the back. He wore a gray sweatshirt and faded jeans, and over the top he’d tied a striped navy-and-white apron around his waist. Her sisters would think he was handsome. Libby had no time for that; she was in survival mode.

“So, you want to work here?”

When he’d walked up to her car window, Libby had been terrified, which had pretty much been her mood since she’d left, or more accurately, run away. She’d withdrawn cash that day, but it was almost gone, and when she’d tried to withdraw more, her card was declined. Her father had to have done that to get her home. What Libby hadn’t realized was that he could. Which should tell you how spoiled and coddled you’ve been your entire life!

“If you have a vacancy, I would… please,” she tagged on.

Something about this guy annoyed her, and she wasn’t sure what. He’d been kind, making her coffee and calling the mechanic, but Libby felt like he was laughing at her, even though it didn’t show on his face. Because you’re tired and scared, which probably makes you paranoid. “If you have none, I can look somewhere else,” Libby added quickly.

Two weeks ago, her only thought had been marrying Andrew, the man she loved… or thought she loved. The last few days she’d been questioning if it had been love or simply the belief he was the right person to share her life with because their families wanted them to marry.

“Do you bake?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Make coffee?”

She shook her head again, feeling like a fool.

“I could do with some help around here for the next few weeks, but I need you to learn how to make coffee,” he said.

She eyed the gleaming chrome and black machine. “I could try.”

“Your jobs would be dishes and coffee, cleaning…. Basically anything I tell you to do, you’d have to do,” he said, looking at her nails.

“I can do that,” Libby said quickly. She was intelligent and picked things up fast. Sure, this was a long way from her office on the fourteenth floor, but she’d do it to get the money she needed to keep moving until she had her head on straight. Only then would Libby go home.

He studied her through his brown eyes as he took a large mouthful of coffee. She did the same. Libby was done backing down from men. The ones in her life had been dictating to her since she was born.

“I don’t have references,” Libby said.

“Anyone I can call to make sure you’re not a career criminal about to rob me blind and burn down my cafe?”

She shook her head, biting back the need to cry as the desperation welled up inside her. She’d done enough of that to last her two lifetimes.

Yes, she was in a situation that she’d never been in before, but Libby was strong and would deal with it. She had to be.

“Okay, Libby Gulliver, you can work here, but it’s a trial for a week. If after that you want out, you go, and if I want you gone, you are,” he said, bracing both hands on the counter to stare at her.

She fought the need to tell him what to do with his job. “Thank you. I will work hard, I promise. But it may take me a few days to get the hang of it.”

The smile started in his eyes and moved over his face, and the effect packed a punch, or would if she had it in her to be affected.

“Hang of working?”

“I know how to work, Ryder.” Libby just bit back the snap. “But I’ve never done this kind of work before.” Remember he’s standing between you and your first paycheck.

He stared at her hard, letting his eyes run over her face, and she withstood it. Libby knew how to handle people looking at her; she’d been subjected to that her entire life too.

“What kind of work are you used to, Libby?”

Run. She tamped down that need and held his gaze. “I, ah, I’m good with numbers, problem-solving, and attention to detail, and I’m mentally strong,” she recited, remembering when she’d had to convince her father what she could do because of her dreams. He’d refused to let her, so she’d done it anyway and forced him to take notice of her.

“Well.” He whistled softly. “Sounds to me like you’re overqualified.”

“I need this job, and I will work hard for you, I promise,” Libby reiterated.

She withstood his look for long seconds, and then Ryder Duke nodded.

“All right, Libby Gulliver, you can start tomorrow.” He held out a hand, and she put hers into it.

Yes, she wore gloves, but she could still feel the heat from the large hand closing around hers. Libby tried to remember Andrew’s touch and failed, which was odd, as they’d been a couple for years.

“Like I said earlier, if you need a room, there is accommodation called the Circle Left. It’s pretty busy in town at the moment with a bachelor party and a team-building group from Chicago, and why the hell they’d come all the way here at this time of year, I have no clue, but I’m sure Nancy will have something for you.”

“Which direction? I’ll head there now.”

“You’ll freeze in your city shoes before you get there.”

“I’m not wearing city shoes,” Libby snapped, looking at her feet. “And there is no need to be insulting, Mr. Duke.”

“There’s every need if you end up a Popsicle and my brother finds you and has to clean up the mess.”

She studied him, unable to read anything on his face. The cafe door opened behind them then, and his eyes moved.

“What the hell are you doing outside at this hour?” he said.

The man walking in was big and had the same look about him as Ryder Duke. He was scowling.

“Bro, that coffee better be hot. Birdie wants one of your hot chocolates with soy and double the marshmallows. Go hard on the chocolate sprinkles on top too. Plus anything sweet with icing.”

“She’s still got that sweet craving going, then?”

“I found her this morning pouring chocolate syrup into her mouth,” the man said, his eyes now on Libby.

Definitely related, she thought.

“Sawyer Duke, meet Libby Gulliver. I just employed her,” Ryder said.

“You don’t look happy about that, bud,” Sawyer Duke said.

His brother shrugged. “She’s desperate, and you know Bradford can’t give me any more hours. I’ll fire her if she’s hopeless.”

“Excuse me,” Libby said, feeling her anger rise. “I’m standing right here, and it’s rude to discuss me like I’m not.”

The brothers exchanged a look she couldn’t read.

“You sure about this, Ry?” The brother nodded to Libby.

“Sure about what?” she demanded.

“All good. I can look after myself, big brother,” Ryder Duke drawled.

“References?” Sawyer Duke barked the word at her.

“I can hire my own staff, bud. Now, I’ll fill your order, and then you can drop her at the Circle Left because she needs somewhere to stay, her car broke down, and I can’t get away.”

“I can walk, so—”

“Okay,” Sawyer cut her off, still staring.

Libby stared back. She may be small, poor, and homeless, but she was no pushover. She’d worked really hard on that when she’d entered her father’s business. Being number three of four children, she’d had to learn to speak up or miss out. She’d missed out for years, but that wasn’t happening anymore.

“Don’t mind him, he’s the family asshole,” Ryder surprised her by saying.

Before she could think better of it, Libby said, “Not you?”

Both brothers laughed at that, much to her relief.

“Nah, he’s the good brother,” Sawyer said.

Libby’s eyes swung back to Ryder. “Really?” He looked at her briefly but didn’t say anything.

The beverages were made in silence then, and Libby watched what Ryder did.

“Ah, now there he is. The best future son-in-law a woman could ask for,” Meadow said, arriving. She then hugged Sawyer.

The man accepted it, but Libby could see he wasn’t comfortable.

“Hey, Meadow.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Got anything baked I can take home to your pregnant daughter?”

“I hope she’s taking that ginger tea in the morning to help with the sickness,” Meadow said.

“She is,” Sawyer said, easing out of the embrace and taking a step back.

“Good, I’ll send over some other things I’ve made. But let me get you both a donut, but only one. She needs to eat healthy, and bland foods are better.”

“Is Birdie still feeling sick this many months along in her pregnancy?” Ryder asked.

Libby stepped back a few paces so they could talk in private.

“Where are you going? I thought I was running you to the Circle Left?” Sawyer Duke frowned, which Libby had a feeling he did a lot.

“Giving you some privacy,” she said.

They hooted with laughter over that. Libby wasn’t sure why.

“You don’t get privacy in a town like Lyntacky, sweetheart,” Ryder said. “Everyone knows everyone’s business.”

Libby could honestly say that was her worst nightmare.

“Need another coffee to go, Libby?” Sawyer asked.

“No, thank you,” she added.

“See, Sawyer, manners are important,” Ryder said to his brother, who grunted his reply, which Libby didn’t understand.

“Here you go.” Meadow arrived with a bag, and Sawyer took the tray of drinks.

“See you tomorrow, Libby. If you could be here by 8:00 a.m.?” Ryder said.

“Of course, and thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. You’ll be earning your money,” Ryder said, giving her a steady look she had no idea how to interpret, so she didn’t try. “Leave your car keys with me after you get your things out of the car. Bob will pick them up from here.”

When they stepped out into the frigid air, Libby said, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and ran to her car.

“Don’t run! There may be ice!” Sawyer barked at her.

Libby slowed. Reaching her car, she opened the trunk and stared at the froth of ivory silk. Would they need to look in here to fix her car? The sound of an engine revving had her pulling out her suitcase and slamming the trunk shut with her dress still inside. There had to be a Goodwill store in town. Or maybe she could sell it somewhere?

She then hurried back to hand Ryder Duke the keys. He was waiting in the doorway.

“Thank you for the coffee and the job,” she said quickly. After all, he was going to be her boss, even if he was rude sometimes.

“Not the dance?” He had that mocking look on his face again.

“No, not that.”

“Take a breath, Libby.”

“What?”

“You look like you’re hyperventilating.”

She struggled to haul a breath in and out. Her chest had been tight for days… well, since she’d left that church.

“Bob will fix your car. Now, you go to the Circle Left, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay, and thank you—”

“We’ve covered you’re grateful,” he said.

She nodded and then turned and hurried back to the large black SUV that Sawyer Duke was sitting in, scowling through the windshield at her. He climbed out and took her case, then put it in the back seat before getting back inside.

“Thank you,” she said, joining him. “For the ride when you don’t know me.”

“I know my brother, and if he says I should give you a ride, I will,” he said in a deep, growly voice.

Libby had met more people in the space of an hour who wanted to help her than in years in her old life. She touched the amethyst Meadow had given her. She could do with some harmony in her mind right about now.

Looking at the big hands on the steering wheel, she wondered why she’d gotten into a car with a complete stranger. Libby wasn’t usually someone who trusted so quickly.

“Don’t mess with him.”

“Pardon?” She shot the mountain man beside her a look.

“Ryder. Don’t mess him around.”

“I beg your pardon?” Libby said in her haughtiest voice.

“You got hearing issues?”

“Were you born rude?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” she snapped. “Ryder offered me a job, and I will work hard for him, as I always do.”

“You don’t look or sound like the type to me who works in a cafe washing floors,” Sawyer said.

“I didn’t know there was a ‘type.’” Libby wondered how far this lodging house was. Surely the distance was not great in a town this size.

“I’ve lived in big cities, unlike my brother, and you have the look.”

“Who do you think washes floors in cafes in big cities?” she asked politely.

“Good point,” he conceded.

“Where is this place?” she said, desperate now to get there.

“I took the long way.”

“Why?”

“Because my brother is too trusting. I’m not.”

She shot him a look, but he was staring out the windshield.

“Look, Mr. Duke—”

“Sawyer will do.”

“Your brother doesn’t appear to like me very much, either, which is mutual, but that will not stop me from working hard for him, and while your loyalty to him is admirable, he’s a big boy and can look after himself, I’m sure.”

“Ryder likes everyone,” he said.

So it was just Libby he didn’t like. Excellent, just what her morale needed.

“But as the eldest, I’ve had to watch all of them fall in and out of trouble. I don’t like it, so where I can, I preempt it.”

“I bet they love that,” she muttered, looking at the large pastel pink building they were approaching. A sign above the front door said Circle Left, much to her relief.

This town had odd names; she’d noticed that as her car had limped down the main street to stop outside the Swing Through Cafe.

“No, they hate it, so I mostly do it with subterfuge,” Sawyer Duke said. “Do you have family, Libby?”

“Yes.”

“And where are they?”

“Not here,” she said as the SUV stopped. “Thank you for the ride, and I assure you, I have no intention of hurting your brother in any way. Nor will I steal from him.”

“Okay.” He held out his hand.

Libby looked at the huge hand like one would if a bear put out its paw.

“You can shake it. I don’t bite.”

She looked him up and down.

“Even though I look like I do,” he added with a small smile. “Have you spent much time in small towns, Libby?”

She shook her head.

“Well, I’ll give you a heads-up. The people in this one like to get in your face and know your business, so if you don’t want them to know it, keep your distance… which unfortunately isn’t easy, especially when it comes to the old people in town. They also shake hands.”

“Don’t they mind you calling them old people?” Libby put her hand in his, and he shook it gently before releasing her.

“No. They’re fitter than pretty much everyone else and run the place, so nothing much bothers them. Not that I call them old to their faces,” he said.

He got out of the driver’s side then, and she got out too. Sawyer Duke took her case out of the back seat.

“Thanks,” she said, holding out her hand. He walked by her, and she followed. “I got it.” He ignored her and opened the door. Placing it just inside, he then looked at her.

“Now you go on in out of the cold, and I’m sure I’ll see you around, Libby Gulliver.”

Hopefully not, Libby thought.