“Here and there,” she hedged.
“Not here,” he said with confidence.
“How do you know?”
“Your accent gives you away.”
She considered telling him he was wrong.It was really none of his business.
“Oklahoma?”
“You have a good ear,” she said coolly.She was actually from Kansas, but so close to the Oklahoma border it made no difference.
“What brings you to Texas?”
“The weather,” she quipped, and set Chico aside.She’d come to Lost Lake because of its proximity to Mexico.“I’m sorry about earlier.I shouldn’t have fired a gun in the house.Even in Oklahoma, it’s bad manners.”
He nodded easily.“I could have avoided it.I’m trained to identify myself and show my credentials in situations like that.”
She was surprised by his admission.In her experience, men rarely made concessions.“Well, I don’t usually carry a shotgun into the kitchen.I heard a male voice, and the gun rack was right there.”
He raked a hand through his dusty hair.“Who did you think I was?”
She didn’t answer.
“Has someone been coming around here, bothering you?”
“No.Nothing like that.”
“Watch out for my mother’s friends.She hangs out with a lot of lowlifes.”
Meredith wondered if he considered her a lowlife by association.There was a harsh edge to his tone and a dismissive attitude behind it.She also got the impression that he was intelligent enough to hide his disdain when it benefited him to do so.
Chico seemed unaware of the danger Wade presented.Forgetting their earlier tiff, he curled up next to Wade as if he’d found his new favorite heat source.Wade frowned at the dog but didn’t try to dislodge him.
Meredith nibbled at the edge of her fingernail.She wished she wasn’t stuck in a basement with a handsome, intimidating stranger.Wade Hendricks was the kind of man she’d cross the street to avoid.She wouldn’t have even made eye contact with him on a normal day.His size alone would have sent her scurrying in the opposite direction.But here they were, sitting directly across from one another.The glow from the lantern illuminated the space between them.She could either stare into the dark or stare at him.
She’d noticed his good looks before she’d fired a round through the screen door.He was over six feet tall, and built like a quarterback, with powerful shoulders and big hands.He had an all-American, golden-boy vibe.She imagined he was a natural athlete.When he wasn’t falling down a set of stairs, he had a graceful way of moving, despite his size.He reminded her of the college kids in Austin, though he was older and more weathered.They weren’t from the same side of the tracks.He might look like a rugged, hard-working cowboy, but he wasn’t a cowboy.He was a cop.
“You don’t resemble your mother,” she said.
Wynona Hendricks was a petite woman with vibrant blue eyes and dark hair.
“I know.”
“I can’t believe she has a son your age.”
“She’s forty-eight.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
Meredith was surprised by the numbers.Wynona’s youthful attitude and trim figure belied her age.Wade, on the other hand, had a weariness about him, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.“I haven’t seen photos of you around the house.”
He reapplied the melting ice pack to his temple without comment.
“I didn’t know your mom had a family.”
