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Reid couldn’t help but smile around a bite of spicy sausage, because truth was, his neck did feel a speck creaky, and a cramp in his lower back had nagged at him several times during the night. He blamed the long, sleepless hours for his minor discomforts; seemed every time he closed his eyes, he saw Cammi, smiling that smile of hers…brown eyes flashing, dimple deepening, musical voice reminding him of the wind chimes outside Martina’s kitchen window. How was a man supposed to get any shut-eye when—
“What in thunder did you put in those sausages?” Billy asked his wife.
Her brow furrowed.
He used his butter knife as a pointer. “You can see for yourself the boy’s off in la-la land.”
Reid stopped chewing and smiled nervously under their scrutiny. He looked from Martina to Billy and back again. “What?”
The couple exchanged a knowing glance, and Martina giggled.
He put down his fork. “C’mon guys. Cut it out. You’re gonna give me a complex.”
“This girl who ran into you,” Martina began, “is she pretty?”
Reid felt his cheeks flush. Because Billy and Martina were on to him? Or because Martina’s question gave him yet another mental picture of Cammi? “She’s okay,” he said, though pretty didn’t begin to describe her.
“What’s her name?” Martina asked.
“Cammi Carlisle.”
“Carlisle,” Billy said out loud. “Don’t know the name.”
“Must be new in town,” his wife told him.
Reid helped himself to another sausage. “She was on her way home from spending a couple years in California when we, uh, met. Said she’d lived here all her life before that.”
Billy and Martina looked puzzled.
“Maybe Carlisle is her married name. Maybe her parents are divorced and—”
Reid didn’t hear Billy’s explanation, because his mind had locked on the word married. Unconsciously, his fingers tightened around his fork handle. Heart thundering as his ears grew hot, he remembered asking Cammi if her husband’s job had taken her away from Amarillo. The only word he could come up with to describe how she’d looked was sad. Even now, he heard the sorrowful note in her voice when she’d answered. Her reaction conjured more questions than answers.
Maybe Cammi had followed some guy to California. Maybe they’d tied the knot while they were out there, and things went sour, so she’d come home to put an end to it. That sure would explain why her mind hadn’t been on the road when she ran the red light.
Then again, maybe there hadn’t been a husband at all, and she’d come home for no reason other than that she couldn’t cut it in Hollywood.
The real question was, what did he care?
At that moment, all Reid wanted was to get off by himself. It would take half an hour to drive to Amanda’s hotel. He’d have plenty of time to roll those notions around in his head a time or two on the way over, see if he could figure out why the idea of a man in Cammi’s life nagged at him like the after-affects of a bug bite.
Reid scooted his chair back and got to his feet. “Great meal, Martina, as usual.” He carried his plate and silverware to the sink, grabbed his jean jacket from the wall peg and opened the back door.
He was half in, half out when she said, “Where are you going in such an all-fired hurry?”
“Got those new guys starting work today, remember. Don’t want them lollygaggin’, ’specially not on their first day.” He nodded toward the outbuildings. “Might as well put them right to work on that fence.”
Billy was leaning back in his chair, preparing to agree, when Martina said, “Before you go, I have a favor to ask you.”
Reid stepped back into the kitchen. “I’ll do it.”
Her brows rose. “But you don’t even know what it is yet!”
“Can’t think of anything I’d refuse you.”
She smiled, then folded her hands in front of her. “Well, you know how terrible I am with directions.” She bit her lower lip, glancing quickly at her husband before meeting Reid’s eyes. “And you know Billy can’t drive anymore, so I was wonder—”
“Say no more,” he interrupted. “What time were the two of you planning to hit the road?”
“Right after lunch,” Billy said.
Reid put his hands in his pockets and nodded. More than enough time to get this nasty business with Amanda and the new ranch hands taken care of. “I’ll just get the boys started, make sure they have enough to keep them occupied till we get back. I have a, uh, errand in town, but I’ll be back by noon. We can head out whenever you’re ready.”
Martina gave a relieved sigh. “I had a feeling we could count on you.” She brightened to add, “I took the liberty of booking a room for you at our hotel.”
The long drive before and after the doctor’s appointment would wear Billy to a frazzle, so despite the fact that he hated hotels, Reid would stay the night.
“All I can say,” Billy put in, “is this doc better be worth the trip.” He gave Martina a stern yet loving look. “Those last four quacks weren’t worth their weight in feathers. You’ve run me all over, looking for a—”
“A miracle. Yes, that’s right,” she finished for him. Tears filled her dark eyes. Suddenly, she gripped her husband’s hand, gave it a little shake. “I have faith, mister, and I won’t rest until we’ve exhausted every possible option!”
On his feet now, Billy gathered her close and nuzzled her neck. “Aw, now, honeypot, don’t get all weepy on me.” He pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. “Don’t pay me any mind. Y’know I love you to pieces for all you’re doin’ to save my ornery hide, right?”
Eyes closed, Martina nodded and pressed her freshly kissed cheek against his knuckles. If Reid hadn’t already known how absolutely devoted she was to Billy, this scene would have made it obvious.
Her wavering breath pulsed in the quiet room.
So as not to disturb them, Reid slipped out the door, feeling like an interloper for eavesdropping on this very private, very loving moment.
Something nagged at the periphery of his consciousness:
He’d never been one to envy what others had…but it sure would be nice to know a love like that before he met his Maker.
After giving the ranch hands their orders, Reid drove to Amanda’s hotel and found her waiting for him outside the entrance. “I figured you’d be driving some kind of monster truck,” she said, giggling when she opened the passenger door, “so I wore blue jeans.”
She sidled up, intent on planting a kiss right on his lips. He gave her his cheek instead, and pretended not to notice the disappointment that registered on her face. She recovered quickly, though—he had to give her that. After a second or two of silence, she snuggled close.
“I hate to sound like an old codger,” he began, pointing at the passenger seat, “but you need to slide right back over there and buckle your seat belt.” He stared straight ahead. If Rose London had been wearing her seat belt thirteen years ago, she might have survived the accident. Since that night, he’d been a stickler when it came road safety.
But Amanda had no way of knowing that, and her wide-eyed expression proved it. “Had a fender bender last night,” he added, “so it’s making me more cautious than usual.”
“How sweet,” was her breathy reply.
Amanda chattered about turbulence during her flight as Reid drove to Georgia’s Diner and parked in the lot, babbled about too few towels in her hotel room as they walked inside, yammered about Amarillo’s gray skies and chilly temperatures as they scanned menus. “You look wonderful,” she said, once the gum-snapping waitress had left with their order.
Reid knew she expected him to return the compliment, but to say anything flattering right now would only make his speech that much harder to deliver. No point putting off till tomorrow what you can do today, he silently quoted Billy. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in, saying it was all his fault that she’d come to believe they had a future as anything but friends. To spare her feelings, he called himself a fool, a self-centered jerk, a boor.
To his amazement, Amanda didn’t resort to tears, didn’t disagree. In fact, she said nothing, nothing at all. Instead, she simply stood and gathered her things before walking woodenly out the door. Groaning inwardly, Reid put a twenty on the table to cover the cost of the food they’d ordered, and followed her. He caught up to her on the entrance to the parking lot.
“Amanda,” he began, “don’t go away mad. There’s no need—”
She threw herself into his arms and held on tight. Reid looked up, as if the answer to this problem was written on the underside of a rain cloud. He was about to offer to drive her back to the hotel when movement across the street caught his eye.
Cammi—in tiny black shoes and a bright white sweater—mouth agape and eyes wide, looking directly at him.
It was as if the world had come to a dead halt. Cammi no longer heard the steady din of traffic, didn’t see sparrows flitting to and fro, pecking the sidewalk in search of food scraps dropped by hurrying pedestrians, couldn’t feel the biting blast of autumn wind against her cheeks. She wasn’t even feeling the rush of satisfaction from the successful interview she’d just come from with the principal of Puttman Elementary that had resulted in a teaching position. Instead, she was aware only of Reid, locked in an intimate embrace with a tall, striking blonde.
It made no sense why jealousy reared its ugly head, started her heart beating faster.
Reid hadn’t mentioned a woman last night in Georgia’s Diner. But then, why would he? He certainly didn’t owe her any explanations. The sight of him, face half buried in the blonde’s long, gleaming tresses, made her fumble-footed, and she tripped over a protruding blob of hard tar, squeezed into a crack in the curb.
Tires skidded, horns honked, brakes squealed as she landed on hands and knees in the road. She felt ridiculous, crawling around in a small circle, grabbing up the tube of lipstick and ballpoint pens that had spilled from her purse.
She had no idea when Reid had crossed the street, or when he’d knelt beside her. But there he was, lips a fraction of an inch from hers, smiling as she stuffed a rat-tail comb, a pack of tissues and a quarter into her bag.
“We’ve gotta quit meetin’ this way,” he drawled. Cammi giggled nervously, despite the dull ache in her lower back, despite the burning, bloody scrapes on her knees and the palms of her hands.
As they neared the curb, a wave of nausea and dizziness staggered her. But, just as he had the night before, Reid steadied her.
“You okay?” he asked, voice laced with concern.
She was about to answer, when the blonde he’d been hugging so tightly flounced up. “Well,” she huffed, “at least now I understand why you wanted to end things.” She blinked mascara-blackened lashes at Cammi. “I hope you’ll be very happy, following your rodeo cowboy from town to town.” Glaring at Reid through narrowed eyes, she added, “I feel it only fair to warn you, you won’t be the only one!” With that, she spun on her stiletto heels and click-clacked off. “And don’t you even think about following me, Reid Alexander,” she tossed over her shoulder.
Reid seemed torn between helping Cammi and fixing things with the angry woman. “I’m okay,” Cammi assured him. “Really. Now hurry, or she’ll get—”
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