Fortune's Family Secrets Read online

  He called after her, “No eggs.” Yet he might have two rolls...if they were good.

  * * *

  Cassie didn’t know what it was about Nash Tremont that sent a tingle up her spine. She usually kept civility and politeness between her and men, especially those she might be attracted to. She had secrets. From experience, she knew she couldn’t share them. That was just the way it was.

  But as Nash sat on the stool watching her ready his breakfast, she felt nervous and a bit excited. As she carried two rolls to the counter, along with two mugs of coffee, she asked, “Are you originally from Oklahoma or Mississippi?”

  Nash’s brows arched. “You didn’t ask Dave Preston that when you called for a reference?”

  “He told you I called?”

  “He did. We’re good friends.”

  Taking a seat next to Nash, careful their elbows didn’t brush, she pulled the sugar bowl over to her mug of coffee. “I learned that from our conversation. He told me you’d been friends for years, that you often helped him out with construction projects around his house, that you were good with his kids and his dog. He gave you an A-plus rating.”

  Nash laughed. “Maybe Dave wasn’t used to giving references. He wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything.”

  “He acted as a friend should. Anyway, your accent isn’t pure Mississippi, is it?”

  Again Nash gave her a short answer. “I was born and raised in Oklahoma, and if you put too much sugar in that coffee, you’re going to crash later today.”

  She’d been too busy looking at Nash’s thick brown hair, and studying the jut of his jaw. She hadn’t been paying attention to how many teaspoons of sugar she’d put in her coffee. She’d have to drink it no matter how sweet it was. “No, I don’t crash. I just eat more sugar or drink more caffeine.”

  “Let’s see,” Nash said with mock seriousness. “Didn’t your website say something about serving healthy breakfasts and dinners?”

  “That’s for my guests who want healthy. I eat when I can and usually on the go, especially when I do Paint and Sip presentations.”

  “Paint and Sip?” He looked perplexed.

  “It’s a recent wine trend. Local wineries have me in for a Paint and Sip night. I teach their customers how to paint a painting in one night while they sip wine.”

  “What a great marketing tool,” he said.

  “It is, and it brings in extra money.” She always needed to do that. Her life had been that way since she was a child.

  “How about you?” Nash asked. “Are you from Austin?”

  Should she tell him? Why not? After all, he wasn’t from around here. “I grew up not so far away.”

  The cinnamon rolls were round and she took hers apart, licking the sugar glaze off her fingers as she did. When she turned toward Nash, he was studying her.

  “What?”

  “Do you always eat your cinnamon rolls that way?”

  Noticing his was gone with two big bites, well, maybe three, she shrugged. “I prolong the experience. Besides...aren’t sweets better if you can lick them off your fingers?”

  Something glowed in Nash Tremont’s eyes and she wished she hadn’t said that. There was coiled energy in the man and plenty of sensual energy, too.

  As she felt tongue-tied, not knowing what else to say, he drank most of the coffee in his mug. Leaning back a degree, he gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Your cinnamon rolls are delicious and the coffee is just what I needed. If you don’t mind, I’ll take a travel mug full of it along with me again.”

  “I don’t mind. Would you like another cinnamon roll for on the road?”

  “Yes, I would,” he agreed.

  “I’ll wrap one for you. Will you be here for dinner tonight?”

  There was no hesitation in Nash’s voice. “No, I won’t. I’ll be having dinner out.” He’d brought his travel mug with him and now he filled it from the urn in the dining area. “Will more guests be checking in?”

  Cassie had hopped up from her stool and was wrapping a second roll. “Yes. Thank goodness there will be another couple today. Do you like to mingle when you go out of town or take vacations?”

  “I don’t take many vacations.”

  “A workaholic?”

  “Something like that,” he acknowledged.

  Going back to the counter he picked up the roll she’d wrapped in foil. Then he gathered his Stetson from one of the hat racks on the wall and took out his keys. “Thanks again for breakfast. I’ll see you sometime.” Then, without another word, he was gone.

  Cassie had noticed how he avoided personal questions and turned them around on her. She shrugged it off. Maybe Nash Tremont was just a very private man.

  * * *

  Nash gripped the steering wheel of his SUV tighter as he followed the car’s GPS directions to the library. But even with that greater tactile stimulation of his hands, even though his thoughts should be perusing the dates of the archives he wanted to look up, he felt bothered by what had happened at the bed-and-breakfast. He shook his left hand, then he put it back on the wheel and shook his right. Still he could feel a tingle in his fingers from the warmth of touching Cassie Calloway. It was absolutely crazy.

  He hadn’t even looked at a woman with real interest since Sara. His bitterness over what had happened with her had leveled off into disappointment. The divorce rate among cops was well above the average. He’d told himself that over and over again. He’d told himself that his work was enough.

  Suddenly his dashboard lit up. A female computer voice told him, “Mom is calling.”

  He reached to the dash and pressed a button on the digital screen. “Hi, Mom.” He’d called her when he’d reached Austin so she wouldn’t worry.

  “I thought I’d give you a call before we both got involved in our days.”

  He checked the time on the dash. “This is early for you, isn’t it?” It was only 8 a.m.

  “I’m going into work early today, lots of new car policies to write up. Must be spring. Drivers like to spruce up their cars or buy a new one.”

  Nash smiled. His mother worked for an insurance company that wrote car and homeowner policies. She’d been working there for years and seemed to enjoy it.

  “How do you like Austin?” she asked.

  It seemed like an idle question but he knew she was fishing. “You didn’t tell anybody I was coming here, did you?”

  “Who would I tell?” she asked innocently.

  “If anyone calls from my office in Biloxi, you tell them I went camping in the backwoods, okay? And if Ben Fortune phones again, stick with the story that you don’t know where I am.” Some of his half siblings had tried to get in touch by mail and phone, but he’d ignored their requests.

  Nash heard his mom let out a sigh. “I still don’t understand why you can’t be honest about what you’re doing at work.”

  “Because I’m not supposed to be doing it.” He’d told her this before when he’d explained why he was spending time in Austin.

  “This is on your own time. Why would anybody care?”

  “There’s a hierarchy. The chief told me to drop this, so he’d be very unhappy if he knew I didn’t.”

  “I get that. Are you sure you don’t want to look up your father while you’re there?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I told you before, he’s not as terrible as the media makes him sound.”

  His mother had her memories, but Nash knew the facts. Gerald Robinson had supposedly walked away from the Fortune money and built himself up from scratch. But he’d had many indiscretions along his road to success. Most of them had made their way into the media. Nash still couldn’t believe his mother wasn’t bitter about what had happened to her. Gerald had been married when he had an affair with Marybeth Tremont, but she’d had no expectations going int
o the affair. He’d given her that old line about his wife being a gold digger and not understanding him. But a man who cheated was a man who cheated. However, Gerald’s indiscretions were the reason Nash had so many half brothers and sisters he’d never met.

  His mother’s voice came through the speaker again. “Is what you’re doing dangerous?”

  “No, it’s not dangerous. I’m just rounding up background information and this is the best place to do it. With the Robinsons living here, I can nose around, listen to gossip, maybe even get close to them without anybody knowing who I am.”

  “I want you to be careful,” his mother warned him.

  “I’m always careful.”

  He thought he heard her snort before she said, “You know Oklahoma isn’t quite as far from Austin as Biloxi is. If you wrap up early what you’re doing, you can fly home and visit.”

  He didn’t get home as often as he thought he should. But there were memories there he didn’t want to revisit. Still, his mother was right. If he did wrap this up quickly, he should fly to Oklahoma for a visit.

  “Let me see what happens here, Mom. I took a month of vacation.”

  “You know, when I tell you to be careful this time, my advice isn’t simply about being careful physically.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “I’m worried if you do run into a half brother or sister, or your father, you’ll leave Austin, stay removed from people who are your family and have many regrets. But I’m also worried that if you somehow make contact, you’ll get hurt.”

  “I won’t get hurt. I don’t have any expectations. This is an investigation about wrongdoing...and fraud, Mom. That’s it.”

  “If you say so.”

  His mother often used that phrase when she didn’t agree with him. He knew it and she knew it.

  “Are you going to stop for breakfast instead of just drinking coffee?” she asked.

  She also knew him too well. “I actually did have breakfast this morning. The bed-and-breakfast served cinnamon rolls.”

  “And? How were they?”

  “Cassie gave me one to bring along for a snack.” He said the words without thinking, and the picture of her unwinding her cinnamon roll and licking the icing from her fingers made him almost break out in a sweat.

  “Cassie?”

  Uh-oh. He should have been watching his tongue. This investigation really did have him rattled. “She owns the bed-and-breakfast.”

  “Is she old and gray?”

  Again, as if a photo flashed in front of his eyes, he saw Cassie’s pretty face, her long brown wavy hair, her chocolate-brown eyes. “She’s probably about my age, but do not make anything of it.”

  “Didn’t you say the bed-and-breakfast offers breakfast and dinner?”

  “It does if anyone signs up for it.”

  “You’re a growing boy. Take advantage of it.”

  What his mother was really saying was that he should sit down for meals, get to know people and not isolate himself. Isolation not only kept his job safe but his heart, too. You couldn’t spill something you weren’t supposed to when you weren’t around anyone to spill it to.

  “I know you,” she went on. “You’ll do what you want to do in spite of what I say. But I love you anyway. I’ve got to go now or I’ll be late. You take care and stay out of trouble.”

  His mother still spoke to him as if he were sixteen. But they’d been through his lifetime together, watching out for each other. He loved her dearly. “You have a good day, Mom. I’ll let you know if I can come for a visit.”

  His mother ended the call. When he thought about their conversation, he remembered her advice.

  Should he have dinner with Cassie tonight?

  Chapter Two

  Cassie was grateful when Trina and Joe Warner checked in. Sometimes guests didn’t even bother to cancel their reservations when they weren’t going to come, so she was never sure if a reservation would be kept. Not until her guests actually arrived.

  Trina and Joe were in their early sixties, retired and on a road trip to visit family in Oklahoma. After check-in, they’d freshened up, then had come downstairs to join her as she cooked them dinner. Actually, she was cooking enough for four. It was possible that Nash might want to warm up something when he returned to the B&B.

  Nash Tremont. She’d been thinking about him too much today...the way his brown hair dipped over his brow, the way his Stetson had set at just the right angle as he’d left this morning. What was it about the man that seemed to make her giddy?

  The Warners had plenty to chat about and Cassie could easily see that many guests who stayed at a bed-and-breakfast enjoyed meeting people from different locales. She filled them in about Austin sites until dinner was ready. Tonight she’d cooked a beef-and-beans enchilada casserole along with cornbread biscuits and a salad.

  She was pouring the Warners glasses of iced tea from an antique pitcher she’d found in a consignment shop when Nash came in. He frowned when he saw her and the couple at the table. Being the good hostess that she attempted to be, she was ready to acknowledge him when he raised his hand to her as if he wasn’t going to stay, but rather go up to his room.

  Her manners made her ask, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to join us? There’s plenty. And I have chocolate cream pie for dessert.”

  The Warners waved at the casserole on the table. Joe was already scooping out a serving. “We watched her make it,” he said. “Ground beef, chili powder, cumin, beans, chili peppers and sour cream. Tortillas in the bottom and the middle.”

  Nash’s nose twitched as if it was catching the scent of dinner and it might intrigue him. He smiled at the couple, then Cassie, but Cassie thought it took an effort. She guessed he was going to refuse her offer of dinner.

  However, he surprised her when he asked, “Did you say chocolate cream pie?”

  Cassie laughed. “So the casserole won’t do it but chocolate cream pie will?”

  After a shrug, he gave her a boyish grin. “Like my mama always says—I have a sweet tooth that just won’t quit.” He came over to the table and Cassie noticed again his no-nonsense stride, his confident posture, the twinkles she’d glimpsed in his eyes this morning. She made introductions. He took the chair at the side of the table where he could face the door.

  Trina served herself a portion of the casserole and spooned a generous serving for Nash onto his plate. After he thanked her, he met Cassie’s gaze. “It smells good. And I do like chilis.”

  After Cassie poured Nash a glass of iced tea, too, she took a seat next to Trina across from him. He’d taken off his Stetson and placed it on the sideboard. She didn’t know if he knew how to ride, but she could easily imagine him on a horse. When she was a little girl, a school friend of hers lived on a ranch. Cassie escaped to Deborah’s place as often as she could. Debbie had two parents who loved her, took care of her and cared about Cassie, too. She’d been grateful to have a motherly figure watching over her since her own mother hadn’t been able to do it.

  Silence reigned at the table as everyone dug into the portions on their plates or took a cornbread biscuit from the basket Cassie had lined with a napkin.

  Joe slathered his biscuit with butter. “Delicious.”

  His wife nudged him. “You haven’t even tasted it yet!”

  “I can tell from its lightness.” He took a bite. “Like I said—delicious.”

  Everyone at the table laughed.

  “How long have you been married?” Nash asked.

  “Forty years this summer,” Trina answered.

  Joe patted his wife’s hand. “The best years of my life!”

  Cassie swallowed hard. Was that kind of marriage even possible? She thought again about Debbie’s parents. Yes, she supposed it was. She explained to Nash, “Joe and Trina stopped here on their way to Oklahoma. They’re
visiting family.”

  Nash’s gaze met Cassie’s and she knew why. He’d told her he was from Oklahoma. Maybe he didn’t want her to bring it up. She, of course, wasn’t going to spill his personal background.

  “What part of Oklahoma?” Nash asked. “I was born and bred there.”

  “We’re heading for Tulsa. Where did you live?”

  “Oklahoma City. I was raised by my mom. She insists she did a good job. But I’m not sure how many people would agree with her.”

  Joe took another biscuit and chuckled. “If she’s proud of you, that’s all that matters.”

  As they ate, Nash asked leading questions of the Warners, and they delved into the subject of their children...and their grandchildren.

  Cassie thought again that Nash knew how to deflect attention from himself. She noticed it because she knew how to do it, too. The people she’d come to know in Austin believed her parents were dead. She hadn’t corrected them because she didn’t want the truth to get out.

  After coffee and chocolate cream pie, Cassie asked the Warners, “Will you be stepping out tonight?”

  The husband and wife looked at each other and shook their heads. “No. We’re going to enjoy our beautiful room and just watch some TV. Tomorrow, we’ll go sightseeing to some of those places you mentioned.”

  Joe stood, patted his stomach, which protruded over his belt, and waited for his wife to stand, too. After good-nights all around, they crossed to the staircase and climbed the stairs.

  “Nice couple,” Nash said as Cassie started to clear the table.

  It felt odd being alone with Nash...it seemed intimate in some way. That was silly. Yes, they were alone in her downstairs, but there was nothing intimate about it. Still, feeling self-conscious, she busied herself with clearing the table. To her surprise, Nash helped her and brought dirty dishes to the counter.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said. With him standing beside her, he seemed to take up all the space in the small kitchen.

  “It’s no bother. It’s the least I can do after that good meal.”

  She decided to keep the conversation as light as she could. “A man raised with good manners is hard to find these days,” she teased.