by Jill Gregory
Ivy was supposed to meet them there. But she still had lots more clothes to try on. Getting super-cute new clothes for school was way more important than eating lunch.
“Good deal, Ives. Listen, I’ll be bidding on the second mare at three, then I’ll head back,” her father said.
“Dad, don’t forget. I told Shannon’s mom I could come for supper. That’s still okay, right? I don’t have to eat supper at home with you, do I?”
The moment Ivy said the words, she knew they came out wrong. It’s not that she didn’t like eating with her dad. It was pretty fun, most of the time, unless he started asking too many questions, trying to find out if any of her friends were smoking or getting into drugs or anything like that. But she and Shannon had stuff to discuss tonight. Important stuff. Like school, and what to wear the first day. And Nate Miles.
Ivy had liked Nate since last spring. But she’d only gotten up the nerve to talk to him once, when she ran into him at the beginning of June outside the hardware store while her dad was inside buying lightbulbs or something.
“I mean, if you want to have supper together, that’s okay—” she backtracked, feeling guilty.
“Are you kidding? Without you around, I can be a slob, eat with my toes, and use my shirt for a napkin.”
“Dad!” She wanted to sound annoyed, but she couldn’t help it; she laughed. A rush of relief ran through her.
“You don’t ever have to worry about babysitting me.” He was using that serious voice now, the one that he used just before he planned to make a lame joke. “I’m busy too. Got myself a hot date getting a couple of really cute mares settled into their stalls.”
“Hilarious, Dad. If it wasn’t so pathetic.”
He had to go then, so she stuffed her cell back in her purse and tried to concentrate on how she looked in the jeans, but she just couldn’t get into it now. She kept having this feeling her cell was going to ring again, and this time it would be the call she was waiting for—and also dreading.
Maybe she wouldn’t answer it. She hadn’t answered last time. That was two days ago. And so far, no more tries.
Maybe there would never be another try.
Then how would she feel?
Her stomach started to hurt again. She might have already lost her chance.
So what, she thought, hauling the jeans and a heap of other clothes from the dressing room, approaching the crowded sales counter with her arms full. I don’t care. If I cared, I’d have answered the last time, right?
But sure enough, just as she gave Erma Wilkins the credit card her dad had told her to use, her cell rang again. And it was the phone number she’d been watching for.
“Call back in ten minutes, okay?” She hadn’t even said hello, and she didn’t wait for an answer but snapped the phone closed, her throat dry.
Ivy glanced around, feeling like everyone in Top to Toe was staring at her. Like everyone knew who she was talking to.
But Erma Wilkins was smiling her slight, crooked smile, handing back the credit card, and thrusting the big shopping bag at her over the counter.
A few feet away, Liza Craig and her mom were sifting through a table of neatly folded cable sweaters. Some other girls she knew from school were modeling jeans and pullovers for their moms in front of the big mirror.
No one was looking at her. No one was paying any attention.
“You say hello to your daddy for me, Ivy, all right? Tell him Erma said hey.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Outside, she glanced around, then ducked toward the alley behind First Street. She didn’t want to meet Aunt Liss and Sophie at Roy’s until after the call.
But now she’d have to wait. Eight more minutes.
Her stomach roiled. She felt like she might throw up. But she told herself to stop acting like a baby.
The trouble was, when the call came—if the call came—she had no idea what she was going to say.
Chapter Four
Sophie breathed in the delicious smells of the oldfashioned diner. Fried chicken and blueberry pie. Beef gravy and mashed potatoes. Burgers and onions crisping on a grill.
The big cozy diner with its antique cash register, curving display counter for pies and baked goods, and weathered booths was so intrinsic to Lonesome Way that a hard little jolt had twitched through her when she’d seen the sign in the front window with her own eyes.
SPACE FOR LEASE. CONTACT HOGAN REALTY.
“I still can’t believe Roy’s is closing,” she murmured.
“Believe it, girl.” Lil Waller strode past with two tall glasses of sweet tea in her work-roughened hands.
She was a big-boned woman, almost seventy, with a chin like a shovel and a smoker’s rasp, even though she’d given up her Camels ten years back.
“We’re headed to Laramie in six days—count ’em. And I can hardly wait. It’s time we lived closer to our kids. Me and Roy have had enough.”
Lil handed Sophie and Lissie setups just as Roy himself trudged from the kitchen bearing two large white plates piled with burgers and pickles and French fries. Roy Waller was tall and thin as a scarecrow, wearing his grease-splattered apron over a chambray shirt and jeans, as well as a frown so perpetual that when Sophie was younger she’d wondered if he was born with it.
“Enough? Enough don’t begin to cover it,” he tossed out as he headed toward the front of the diner. “We had a good long run, but now we’re kicking back, as you young people say. Anyone got any objections, they can take it up with me at the fishing hole over in Laramie. So long as they don’t scare away the fish.”
Lil rolled her eyes. “The man claims he’s going to do nothing but fish five days a week—and take the grandkids to the movies. I’ll believe it when I see it. Me, I’m gonna join a book club, knit when I’m not reading, and put my aching feet up for a change. Nobody better try’n stop me.”
“No one deserves it more than you do, Lil,” Sophie said warmly as Lil grabbed a couple of menus and handed one to her and one to Lissie.
“Everyone in town’s going to miss the both of you. Except this little one.” Lissie placed a hand across her belly. “She’ll never get to taste your hash browns, but at least the poor thing won’t know what she’s missing.”
“There you go.” Lil Waller patted Lissie’s shoulder, then turned her shrewd gaze on Sophie.
“Haven’t seen you around these parts for far too long.” Her gruff voice softened with affection. “I heard all about you going through a rough patch back there in San Francisco. Don’t let it get to you, you hear?”
Sophie pasted a smile on her face. Was there one person in this town who didn’t know every inch of her business? She did not relish being guest of honor at a Lonesome Way pity party. Unfortunately, that old saying of her father’s was true—if one person in Lonesome Way told a joke, the whole town laughed.
“I’m doing fine, Lil, honest. Don’t worry about me.”
Lil shot her a look that plainly said she knew Sophie was lying through her teeth, but just this once, she’d let her get away with it.
After Sophie and Lissie ordered grilled chicken sandwiches, carrot and raisin coleslaw, and a heaping platter of Roy’s special thick French fries on the side, Lissie ran down everyone who was coming to the baby shower.
Sophie tried to listen, but she was distracted, caught up in the familiar sounds and memories of the diner, in the smells of seared meat, fried onions, and the warm fresh-baked pies cooling on the counter along the back wall.
Her own recipe for cherry rhubarb pie had been acquired right here—scribbled down for her on an order pad by Lil more than a dozen years ago. For Sophie’s money, it was still the best cherry rhubarb pie she’d ever tasted.
Of course, when it came to her famous cinnamon buns, the ones that had first put Sweet Sensations on the map, that recipe was all Gran’s.
There were only a dozen people in Roy’s right now—some ranch hands in boots, T-shirts, and jeans; a couple of high school kids, including a
boy and a girl laughing and throwing French fries at each other; and a thin, tiredlooking blond woman feeding bits of a grilled cheese sandwich to a toddler.
Across the aisle, Sheriff Teddy Hodge, who’d been Lonesome Way’s sheriff for as long as she could remember, was drinking a cup of black coffee and working his pencil across a crossword puzzle in a thin booklet. A trio of hikers were engaged in energetic discussion, their heads bent over a map.
Probably on their way to the Half Moon Campground off Big Timber Canyon Road, Sophie thought.
Her mother had mentioned that more tourists were discovering Lonesome Way as they wove their way through the state headed either toward or home from one of the national or state parks, monuments, or campgrounds.
Suddenly, Sophie saw something that made her blink. One moment she was sitting in Roy’s with its picture windows and old vinyl booths, and everything looked just the same as it always had. Then, in an instant, another image flashed through her mind.
She glimpsed something fresh in this old, familiar western diner. A flicker of air, color, light, smells.
A possibility. Something new. Something hers.
Then, as quickly as it had flickered in her mind, like a firefly, it was gone.
“Look who’s here.” Sophie was yanked back to the familiarity of Roy’s as the bell over the door tinkled and Mia Quinn stepped in. She swooped toward their booth with a grin.
“Well, take a look at you!” Mia hugged her excitedly. “I was planning to call and see if you wanted to head over to the Double Cross for a drink tonight. You too,” she told Lissie. “Except for the drink part.”
“I’ll have you know I’m rocking decaf sweet tea these days,” Lissie retorted. “Although by the time I get home and throw supper together tonight, I think I’ll have spent my daily quotient of energy.”
Sophie slid over on the seat so Mia could sit beside her.
“How can I help with the baby shower?”
“Let me count the ways. Starting with baked goods for the brunch. We can figure out the menu and other stuff later when a certain someone isn’t here.” Mia glanced pointedly at Lissie. She was a fifth grade schoolteacher now, but at just a smidge over five foot three, her figure was still as voluptuous as a stripper’s, and her short blond hair framed an adorably kittenish face. She waited as Lil arrived with Sophie and Lissie’s lunch, then ordered the tuna salad platter.
“We need to brainstorm games, theme, and decoration,” she told Sophie, ticking them off on her fingers. “I have a few ideas, but we can work out the deets at the Double Cross later.”
“Hold on a minute,” Lissie protested. “This shower isn’t a secret. Why can’t we talk about it now? Nothing needs to be a surprise.”
“Well, the sex of the baby isn’t a surprise, not these days—and certainly not in your case, so something has to be,” Sophie pointed out.
“It’ll be more fun this way,” Mia added as her root beer arrived in a cool frosty brown glass.
When Ivy came in, they waved her over.
Everyone wanted to see her purchases, and she produced them dutifully, but she was quiet, Sophie noticed. Much more quiet than she’d been this morning.
“Everything okay, Ives?” Lissie asked at one point as Ivy silently chewed a bite of her burger and washed it down with a gulp of Coke.
“Yeah, why?”
“For someone who just scored all these great clothes, you don’t seem too happy.”
Two spots of color tinted the center of the girl’s golden cheeks. “I’m fine.” There was a hint of defensiveness in her tone. She picked up her burger again, then set it down. “I’m just thinking about all the homework I’m going to have this year. Susie Tyler told me there’s going to be tons of homework.”
“If you ever need any help, call me,” Mia offered.
“Okay. Thanks.” A halfhearted smile, then Ivy ducked her head. Lissie and Sophie exchanged glances.
“Did something happen over at Top to Toe? I thought you were looking forward to sixth grade,” Lissie murmured.
“I was. I am.” Ivy pushed her plate away. “I’m not really hungry right now,” she muttered, not looking at anyone. “Can I wait outside, please, Aunt Liss?”
“Sure, honey bunch. Unless you want some dessert—”
But she was already scurrying toward the door, clutching her shopping bag. The bell above the door chimed once more as Ivy escaped onto Main Street.
“Oh, boy, here we go.” Lissie sighed. “The dreaded teenage years. She’s not even twelve yet, and already the moodiness is creeping in. Poor Rafe.”
Poor Rafe. Sophie couldn’t begin to picture Rafe Tanner raising an eleven-year-old daughter. She tried to remember what had gone wrong between him and his ex-wife, but it had all happened while she was busy with her own life—married to Ned, living in San Francisco—and the details were vague. Something about the wife— Lynnette? Lynelle?—running off, abandoning him and their daughter.
How could any woman leave her own child? Sophie wondered. Or was it Rafe she was running from?
She had no idea what kind of man Rafe had become. In high school, he’d roamed from one girlfriend to the next like a horse grazing in a well-watered field. Immature and pleasure-seeking.
She’d seen him only that one time after he’d graduated from Lonesome Way High, the time when she was fifteen and trudging home from Cougar Rock in the heat of summer, wearing shorts and a tank top, sweaty and furious as she headed toward the main road and home.
She’d broken up with her high school boyfriend up at Cougar Rock that day, and he’d been such a jerk about it that she’d refused to get in his truck and let him drive her home.
He’d roared off, angrier than a grizzly with a sore tooth, and Sophie had begun the walk home beneath a broiling sun. It was only five miles, no big deal, but the sun was strong, and sweat trickled down her forehead and between her breasts, and she suddenly was thirsty. She’d lifted her hair off her nape for a cooling moment as she reached Squirrel Road, angling downhill finally—and had dug out a red plastic hair band from the pocket of her jeans, pausing a moment to secure her hair high off her neck.
She’d walked another two miles before Rafe Tanner sped past in his pickup. He blasted by in a blur, then, just as suddenly as he’d passed her, he slammed on his brakes and backed up.
“Sophie? What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? You all right?”
“I’m fine. I like walking.” She brushed the sweat from her eyes with the back of her hand, wondering why it had to be Rafe instead of anyone else who happened upon her out here, a sunburnt, sweaty mess. He, on the other hand, looked more handsome than ever. Lissie had told her he was home on break from college. But what were the odds he’d be on Squirrel Road right now?
When she was twelve, and he’d gone off to college, she’d dreamed of running into Rafe when she was older, not a kid anymore. She’d seen herself wearing a sexy, low-cut top, snug-fitting jeans, and killer red heels.
Now instead of the annoying child who’d spied on him and his girlfriends, he was seeing a weird, sweaty girl whose nose was probably red and peeling, whose pale peach lip gloss had all but melted away, and whose faded blue top was sticking to her chest.
Go away, Sophie thought miserably. Just go away.
He was leaning out the driver’s side window, frowning at her.
“Get in, Soph.” Rafe reached over, pushed open the passenger-side door. “Come on, don’t argue. It’s hot as hell out here. I’m taking you home.”
“I like walking. It’s not that far.”
“Are you nuts? It’s another two miles to your place. You’re my sister’s best friend. If you think I’m leaving you out here in the middle of nowhere, you’re dead wrong. Get in.”
Those midnight blue eyes had pierced right through her, dissolving all of her willpower, and so she had. She forced herself to stare straight ahead as he put the car in gear and took off to the sound of Clint Black’s voice bla
sting from the radio.
If it had all stopped there, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but she’d made the situation worse. Much worse.
Rafe had driven her all the way to the Good Luck ranch, cruising up Daisy Lane until they were twenty feet short of her front door.
He’d only asked her one more time what she was doing all the way out there alone on Squirrel Road, and when she hadn’t answered, he’d let it go.
If she’d just climbed down from the pickup with a simple thank-you, it wouldn’t have been so bad.
“See you around, Sophie.” His voice had been easy, calm. And she’d made the mistake of looking at him just as he reached across her and opened the passenger-side door.
Something wild and daring broke loose inside her. Maybe it was all those fantasies she’d had about him when she was younger, but all Sophie knew was that the way she felt at that moment was not the least bit childlike.
She was intensely aware of Rafe beside her, of that long, sinewy, powerful body, and the clean grass and leather scent of him. Dark stubble fringed his jaw, and his dark hair was just long enough to brush the collar of his faded old black T-shirt.
But it was his eyes that drew her in, breaking down all her common sense and natural defenses.
They cut through her like blue razor wire. Later, she was certain they’d hypnotized her, because without thinking, she did the craziest thing she’d ever done in her life. She leaned over and kissed Rafe Tanner on the mouth.
For one surreal instant, his lips molded warm against hers. She felt lightning sizzling through her skin. And she could’ve sworn he felt it too. Then he must have remembered the age difference between them, or what a brat she’d been all the years he’d known her.
His entire body tensed and he jerked back suddenly, as if she’d burned him with her mouth, staring at her as if she’d dropped down through the roof of his truck, an alien from a faraway planet. His big hands gripped her arms, holding her at arm’s length and so tightly there was no chance she could move even an inch closer.