Designed for Love (Texas Nights) by Kelsey Browning Page A

hand-over-fist at the beginning, but this way, we buy goodwill and long-term support. We give a little now and it will benefit everyone in the end.”
    “That’s assuming the whole damn thing doesn’t tank within a year.”
    “A chance I’m willing to take.”
    “Well, have you thought about the people—including my company—you’ll be hiring to work on this project? What happens when you can’t pay your subcontractors? Your material bills? Believe me, that can ruin you in this business. You do that, and no one in Texas will touch you with a ten-foot pole. You’d have to bring people from out of state, and by that time, you won’t have two nickels to jangle together in your pocket.”
    “My grandmother led me to believe you were a reasonable man.”
    “Reasonable?” Yes, the color of his skin was decidedly unhealthy. “I’ll have you know that—” Cravens broke off, reached for the nearest tree branch. It snapped off in his hand, and the purplish color drained from his face.
    Ashton reached out, touched his arm. “Mr. Cravens, are you all right? Maybe we should—”
    Just that quickly, the light clicked off in his eyes, and the big man crumpled to the ground.
    Ashton flung her clipboard aside and dropped to her knees beside him. She tapped his cheek, but his entire face was slack. His mouth hung open and his eyes were half-rolled back in his head.
Oh
,
God.
Oh
,
God.
She fumbled in her pocket for her phone, remembered she’d left it in her car so she and Cravens wouldn’t be disturbed during their meeting. Should she leave him to get her phone or stay here and try to revive him?
    Pressure built in her chest, expanded until it burst from her throat as a scream. “Help! I need help!”
    When Cravens didn’t flinch at the sharp, high sound, that told Ashton all she needed to know about getting to her phone. The man wasn’t conscious, and she sure had no experience with first aid. She scrambled up and crashed through the low branches until she hit the dirt track where she’d parked her car. Her keys heavy and awkward in her hand, she finally punched the unlock button and dug into her console for her phone. She was backing out of the driver’s side door when someone behind her said, “What the hell is going on?”
    Ashton cracked her head against the car’s roof, but kept moving and turned to see Mac blocking her way.
    “What was all that caterwauling about?” he demanded.
    Her relief was so huge, she didn’t even question why Mac was wandering around on her grandmother’s property. “I need help. Mr. Cravens...he’s...hurry!” She elbowed her way back through the brush, uncaring at how the branches ripped at her jacket or whether or not Mac was getting whapped by them in her wake.
    “Who’s Mr. Cravens?”
    “He is—” was? “—the contractor for the Lily Lake project.”
    “The what?”
    “Later, dammit.” When they made it back to Cravens, he was the color of skim milk diluted with water. And even worse, his chest wasn’t moving. “Oh God, Mac.”
    “What did you do to him?” His words were low, not particularly accusing, but Ashton swung around to attack. “Whoa, whoa.” Mac put his hands up and backed away a step. “I’m calling 911.”
    Ashton went to her knees again and pressed her fingers to the man’s throat. Was that thump from his neck or her own pulse? With Mac’s words indistinct behind her, she threw a leg over Cravens’s midsection and pressed on his chest like the doctors did on every ER show she’d ever seen.
    “You’re not doing it hard enough.” Mac nudged her aside and took over. But Cravens was like a rag doll under his hands.
    Hot tears flooded Ashton’s eyes, but she swiped them away before they could fall. She didn’t know this man, but no one deserved to collapse in the middle of nowhere, especially with his only possibility at survival an incompetent woman like her. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”
    * * *
    The Crockett County emergency