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guy you seem to hate.”
    Finished with the bed, she straightened to face him. “I don’t hate you as a person. I hate what men like you let money do to them. Puffing up your egos until you’re overbearing pricks in need of running everyone’s life like it were his own.”
    “Number one, I’ve always had a big ego, which I like to call confidence. And second, you aren’t exactly living here like a pauper.”
    “True. I like nice things but they don’t change who I am.”
    “Really?” A flush of color told him even she didn’t believe her words. Money changed people no matter who they were, no matter how insignificant that change, he wanted to argue. Common sense told him to leave it alone until he knew more about her. “I need to return Bobby’s truck. Can you follow me into town? I’ll drop off the truck and buy you lunch, since I still have two hundred bucks left.”
    She put her hands on her hips. “Do you want your money back?”
    “I’d prefer to write you a check. I’m feeling a little naked without at least five in my wallet.”
    “Fine.” She reached in her pocket and threw the money on his bed. “Here, take it. I just didn’t want to be left a fool if you skip out on me. I’ll take a check when you leave and will lower the nightly fee to a hundred because there’s no furniture in here.”
    Together they stared at the rollaway sitting forlorn in the middle of the large room.
    “I don’t care about the money,” he said. “It’s more than fair. It’s the fact you won’t bend, knowing I’m good for the check. Here.” He took three hundred off the bed. “You keep three. I’ll keep three. That brings my wallet up to five and makes me feel secure again. I never have less than five even to go to the gym.”
    “I wouldn’t say that out loud again. Around here, that’s more than two week’s salary, if you’re lucky.” That he didn’t doubt, and it humbled him. “You feel snuggily wuggily now?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
    “Snug as a bug. We done here because I’d really like to take a shower before Bobby starts charging me to use his truck.” He held back a grin, seeing her already pink face turn bright red.
    “Of course. Meet me on the front porch. I’ll be working on the screen door.”
    “I’ll fix it when we get back.”
    “Super. I’ll deduct the labor from your rent. Keep track of your hours.”
    “To the second, sweetheart. I charge a hundred dollars an hour.”
    “Shut. Up.”
    Through his windows, he saw her land on the porch and head into the yard. Discarding his Bullets tee, he sat on the rollaway to remove his boots and socks. At the precise moment she seemed hell-bent on coming into the house, he shucked his jeans. What? He left on his shorts.
    Damn, he was having fun.
    The smell of clean sheets and the comfortable bed beckoned to him. Five minutes to rest his eyes, he told himself. Besides, he needed to get dressed. Clean clothes were in the bag left in Bobby’s truck.
    ****
    “Awkward,” Kate murmured.
    The purchase of blinds would be a priority.
    “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she groused at the persistent ring of the phone. “Hello.”
    “Is Kathryn Crockett there?”
    “That’s me.”
    “This is Andrea Roesch. I work for Bennett Field. The great great grand nephew of Tom Cutter. The pioneer?”
    “I know who Tom Cutter is.” Kate’s skin crawled, sure Andrea Roesch was not the bearer of good news, if her high, snooty voice was any indication. “I live on a mountain named after him.”
    “That’s why I’m calling. Bennett Field is a historical buff and likes to restore bits and pieces of the past. He’s recently acquired documentation that indicates his ancestor acquired the land your cabin sits on by way of a land warrant for military service, during the Indian Wars. Mr. Field also believes Tom’s bones might be buried beneath your cabin.”
    “Impossible. The original portion of this cabin was built eighty years ago, well