Page 7 of Winning His Wager

Even if they did think they were so hot because they wereTalleys.

Dylan was just a fake one who had just sort of appeared when Dixie’s dad and mom had moved back to town with four more daughters. Now those daughters got all the good hours at the inn and the easy shifts and even got to live at the inn for free and be popular all the time.

Why wouldn’t they? Everyone knew the Talleys were rich. Meyra’s father had invested lots of money or something over, like, forty years. Apparently, so had Dixie and Dylan’s, long before he’d run away and everything. Money that had just sat there, untouched for more than twenty years.

Meyra’s dad had married that rich Dr. Masterson, who built the hospital. The Talleys had money everywhere. Dylan probably didn’t even need to work. None of them did. They just liked being where everyone could see them. Abby had figured them out before.

“Dylan…is off tonight,” Dixie said, looking at the third woman with them. Dusty, her younger sister. Dusty wasn’t too bad. She was going to marry Fletcher’s brother Ben very soon.

Abby had to get along with Dusty, no matter what. It was part of her plan.

For a betterlife.

Her father had said what Fletcher was doing at his ranch was going to pay off big time. Very soon. Her father kept up with all the ranching science magazines and things, even though they had lost their ranch when her mom had gotten so sick. And her dad had been drunk all those years after. There had been articles that had even mentioned Fletcher and his partner in Texas and what they were doing now. And that it was going to be making people lots of money soon.

Her dad said Fletcher would be one of those people. Her dad was talking about how the drones would change things for a lot of ranchers in the area. Abby didn’t care really—she just wanted Fletcher to be rich. It mattered.

“What?” Dusty asked, surprise right there on her face. Abby was always trying to be nice to Dusty and her best friend, Nikki. Nikki was Fletcher’s sister. For her plan to work, she really had to be nice to Nikki.Nikkiwas married to the man who was building that movie studio—Abby really needed to be nice to Nikki. “Where is she?”

The two sisters went into the back room to talk. Abby stepped closer to her computer monitor. She’d have to work the check-in desk for the next eight hours. The room mail slots were right behind her. They weren’t used much anymore, but they were hand-carved and a part of the inn’s tradition.

It really was a beautiful inn, and if she liked the Talleys any better, she might just like it there okay. Abby enjoyed seeing the guests and talking to them and feeling important. She stepped closer to the mail slots—they opened in the back of the front office in small openings big enough for letters.

Sometimes, she could hear what the people in the back room were saying. She listened now.

“Fletcher bet Dylan she couldn’t work a real job besides here for six months,”Dixie was saying now.“He said she couldn’t do it because the family was taking care of her, that she couldn’t take care of herself. That she’d rather proven that this week.”

“What? That idiot! Name one of us who wouldn’t have done exactly what Dylan did when she saw Meyra in trouble like that. We all would have done it. Fletcher would have too. I’m going to clobber him myself for how he treats her.”Dusty was really angry. She was quiet—she didn’t get angry that often. Not that Abby had ever noticed. But she was now.

“I have my theories about why he acts that way with her. They get within ten feet of each other, and it’s total fire. Anyway, she took him up on the bet. She’s…his housekeeper now. For six months. She moved out of here and in with Fletcher an hour ago.”

“Seriously? Hishousekeeper? This is too good to be believed. How long do you think it’ll take?”

“I give it a month,” Dixie said.

“Six weeks. She can be stubborn. And a bit clueless.”

“No kidding.”

What did they mean?

Abby just stood there as she listened.

4

Okay,so what was she supposed to donow? It was well past ten. The house was nice and toasty. They were sitting in the low light from battery lamps.

He’d lit a fire in the woodstove.

If they had actuallylikedeach other, and she wasn’t just living there to do two things—beat him at his stupid bet and escape her father’s control for a while until she figuredlifeout and everything—they could cozy up in front of that stove and wrap themselves around each other. And have a really good time.

But that was never going to happen.

And the man just didn’ttalk.Sheesh. She’d tried everything.

Dylan sprawled in the recliner and watched him in the low light. He was a seriously yummy version of a cowboy right there. If she ignored the cranky and the fact that she didn’t like him one bit. He’d taken off his boots and wore really dorky slippers.

Then again, the floor was a little cold. She still had her sneakers on. For that very reason.