Showdown at Lizard Rock by Sandra Chastain Read Free Book Online Page B

a bath.”
    “Right here?”
    “Well, not in the kitchen sink. I thought I’d try your springs.”
    “W-w-well,” she said, stuttering like a Victorian matron about to be subjected to a peep show. “Of course. I mean, technically, you do own them. I mean, if you want to bathe in them, that’s fine.” Dammit! she thought. This was going too far!
    “I’m glad you see it that way.” He stood and slid the dusty jeans down his hard, muscular legs.
    “I do,” she whispered. He
was
coordinated. She lifted her gaze from his skimpy peach-colored briefs and saw the knowing amusement on his face.
    “Care to slip into your Lady Godiva bikini and join me?” he asked.
    “Certainly not. I have to make another phone call. You go on. I’ll be here for—for a long time.” She said a rattled good-bye to Esther and punched in the number of the
Pretty Springs Gazette.
The phone rang on the other end, and a solemn voice said, “Turner’s Mortuary.”
    “Whoops, wrong number. Sorry.”
    Blushing, she focused on the phone and tried again.
    King chuckled heartily, draped a towel around his waist, then went out the door and slammed it shut behind him with a jaunty slap of his hand. Kaylyn closed her eyes and cursed softly. After two more attempts at calling the newspaper, she heard the words, “
Pretty Springs Gazette
, Tom Brolin speaking.”
    “Tom. I’m so glad I got you.”
    “Kaylyn, is there something wrong?”
    “Yes! I mean, no. How’s my plight impressing the national media?”
    “The national press carried you the first day and that’s all. Even locally the issue isn’t stirring up as much opinion as we’d hoped, though I’m trying. Trouble is, most folks don’t share your belief in the medical benefits of the springs, and they’ll picnic in their backyards if they can have some of the income King’s project promises. Sorry, babe.”
    She rubbed her forehead wearily. “Well, I’ve fought tougher battles and won. What about the soup line?”
    “The church has volunteered to provide the funds, but they don’t have the membership’s permission to use the church’s facilities yet. Got any ideas?”
    “Yes. Bring them here, to the springs. I don’t have anything else to do. I’ll cook for them for a day or two until we find an answer.”
    “I think you’re running a big risk. King Vandergriff might tolerate
you
, but will he put up with ten or twelve dirty, down-on-their-luck vagrants?”
    “He tolerated Harold. As a matter of fact, would you believe that he sprung him and gave him a job here at the site? I couldn’t believe it. I think he’s actually fond of the old man.”
    “There may be more to Vandergriff than you’ve given him credit for. You’re sure you want to feed those derelicts?”
    “They aren’t derelicts, Tom. They’re just homeless people like Harold. They don’t want handouts, they want work. And I have the perfect answer. If they walk my picket line, I’ll pay them off in food and clean clothes.”
    “Might work, at that. What about a five-o’clock supper? I bring them out about four. We’ll get them cleaned up and fed, and they’ll have a few minutesbefore dark to walk your picket line near the road. They don’t have to picket long to make your point.”
    “Fine. You bring the food in the morning.”
    Kaylyn hung up the phone and glanced out the window. She gasped. From where she was standing, she could see straight into her camp area. Now she understood why King had placed his trailer in this spot. He could watch every move she made, including … damn! He could see her bathing spot. Had he been watching her as she took her morning bath and her afternoon swim?
    At that moment King came into view. He stood majestically at the edge of the springs, wearing nothing but his briefs. He walked gracefully into the water, stood for a moment in the moonlight, then bent forward and dived out of sight. When he surfaced, he shook his head, slinging water from his thick golden