by Deeks, B. C.
“Close enough. We put two kinds of cabbage in it – green and red.” Lucy tapped her pen on the order pad. “So that’s soup, cheeseburger, sweet tater fries and coleslaw. You’re my kind of gal. Healthy appetite.”
Amanda grimaced at the comment. She still struggled to maintain her weight, having lost so many pounds during the year-long chemo and radiation treatments and recovery. All of her girlfriends back in Helena envied her ability to eat everything in sight, one consolation for surviving the cancer. She leaned her elbows on the table, tented her fingers. “I might be tempted to order a piece of lemon pie.”
“There’s one piece of lemon meringue left. Those cowboys dropped by after the cattlemen’s meeting for coffee and pie. And the other folks arrived when the movie theater let out.” Lucy whispered in a conspirator-like manner, “I’ll hide that last piece under the counter until you finish the first course.”
“I wondered why there were so many people in here at this hour. Thank you for saving the pie.” Amanda smiled. Dessert always cheered her up. “Where’s the Ladies’ Room?”
Lucy pointed toward the overhead sign in back and then headed toward the kitchen.
Amanda blew on the steaming coffee, took a sip, and then glanced toward the horseshoe counter. The cowboy met her eyes again, and his bushy moustache twitched slightly as his full lips hinted at a grin. She’d spent most of the past year bald, her head covered with a scarf, nauseous and weak as a kitten. Being admired by a handsome cowboy brightened Amanda’s mood a notch and ignited her playful side. She copied his position: slouching in her chair, crossing her ankles and arms, staring right back at him. His grin broadened.
A minute later, Amanda regretted her playfulness, her body aching from sitting in a fixed position while driving for so many hours. Her leg muscles screamed ‘what the hell are you doing’? And she fervently prayed she didn’t slide off the edge of the chair and land on her butt under the table. Feeling her face redden, she struggled to stand, grabbed her purse, and headed toward the restrooms in back.
As she wended her way between the tables, she observed the other patrons. A gray-haired couple occupied a corner booth, and they smiled as she glanced in their direction. The cowboys seated around the horseshoe nodded and touched the brim of their Stetsons as she approached. One fellow appeared older than the others, but none of them stood out as anything other than typical small town guys. Mr. Hollywood-handsome being the exception.
“Evening, ma’am.” The handsome cowboy’s deep masculine voice rumbled in his broad chest, and he removed the Stetson and set it on his thigh. He wore jeans, a chambray shirt, open denim jacket and well-worn cowboy boots which suggested he was the genuine article.
“Good evening.” Amanda stopped directly in front of the good-looking fellow.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help overhear your conversation with Lucy. So, you’re the gal replacing my sister-in-law, Catherine.” The cowboy leaned forward, extended his hand. “Jeremy Branigan.”
“Please to meet you, Mr. Branigan. I’m Amanda Bailey.” Amanda shook his hand and felt an electric current race up her arm. She’d never felt such an immediate attraction to a guy before, and she imagined running her fingers through his dark brown, almost shoulder-length curls. The laugh lines around his eyes hinted at his sense of humor, and she’d always been attracted to a deep male voice that rattled her mind in equal proportion to the degree of rattling in the fellow’s chest.
Jeremy introduced her to the other gentlemen seated around the horseshoe, and Amanda shook their hands. She’d never remember them all, but the name Jeremy Branigan was permanently burned into her mind like a brand on a steer’s hide.
They just stared at each other for an embarrassing length of time. Amanda cleared her throat and shifted to her other foot. Her brain had dissolved into mush, and she couldn’t think of one intelligent thing to say. Those beautiful brown eyes almost spoke to her when he smiled. She mentally shook herself, fearing she might melt into a puddle at his feet.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you around town, ma’am.” Jeremy replaced his Stetson on his head, touched the brim.
Amanda exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath while she watched the cowboy slide his long legs back under the counter. She stumbled down the narrow hallway toward a door labeled LADIES while mentally restarting her thought processes.
She glanced back toward the horseshoe counter and caught Jeremy watching her. Had the handsome cowboy felt a similar attraction to her? Or like most guys did he just habitually check out a woman’s behind? She hoped Jeremy hadn’t been disappointed. She dashed into the Ladies’ room and locked the door, admitting to herself she couldn’t fault Jeremy’s behavior. She’d been guilty of checking out a few male rear ends on the sly, too.
On her way back to the table, a pleasantly-plump, casually dressed couple waved her over to their table.
“I bet you’re the new banker. I could tell right off, you being all dressed up so professional and all.” The fellow was obviously expecting her to confirm his guess.
“Amanda Bailey.” Introductions were made and hands were shook. She assumed they were customers at the bank.
By the time she returned to her table, the cowboys had left the diner.
Lucy arrived with her soup, and Amanda suddenly remembered she required directions to the hotel. The friendly woman’s banter and the testosterone-oozing cowboy had distracted her from her second purpose in stopping.
“Before I forget, Lucy, could you please give me directions to the New Golden Nugget Hotel?” Amanda reached for the soup spoon.
“Yep. I’ll draw you a map, honey.” Lucy grabbed a paper napkin out of the holder and dug out a ballpoint pen from her apron pocket. “You’ll love staying at the Nugget. After the flood in 1911, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderberg rebuilt the hotel. Their great granddaughter, Elsie Rhodes, owns the place now. She’s a tad eccentric, but she’s a good soul.”
Amanda studied the completed map. The combination of lines and squiggles resembled an aerial view of a corn maze in August. The street names were indecipherable. Doctors wrote more legibly. “Could you please explain the route, too?” Amanda memorized the directions as recited.
When she asked for her bill, Lucy informed her that Jeremy Branigan paid for her meal. Amanda started to object, but Lucy waved off her protests. “Don’t worry about it, honey. That wealthy rascal carries around hundred dollar bills for pocket change.”