Chance stopped putting away gear until then, and went still. “What about her?”
“She’s coming back. Asked me to pick her up at the airport tonight, down in Reno.”
Chance’s first thought was of Hallie; he wondered if she would leave town now, rather than look for another place to stay. He felt a painful little stab in the pit of his stomach. “And?” he prompted, when Doc just stood there, looking tongue-tied and flustered.
“She said she’d come to an important decision,” Doc managed to say, never looking at Chance once the whole time he was talking. “About us. Her and me, I mean.”
Chance grinned, slapped his friend’s shoulder with a pair of work gloves as he passed, headed for the next stall. He planned to work with the Winslow mare, Sugar, for an hour, then find some excuse to go and find Hallie. Memories of the night before were still thrumming through his bloodstream like drum-beats. He wondered how he’d survive it if she left. “And you figure it’s something bad? Maybe she wants to marry you.”
There was a harrumph in Doc’s voice, though he didn’t actually make the sound. “More likely, she’ll send me packing. We had a hell of a tiff before she left.” He paused, searched Chance’s face. “I was thinking maybe you could go and get her. Smooth the way for me a little.”
Chance rested his hands on his hips and tried to look stern. “I’m not about to play go-between,” he said, and glared at Doc with plain impatience. “Good Lord, the two of you have been carrying on for thirty years, at least. Didn’t you and Jessie learn how to talk to each other in all that time?”
Now it was Doc who went crimson, and his jaw clamped down like an old-fashioned bear trap. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief, were shot with blue fire, reminiscent of heat lightning. “ ‘Carrying on’? Is that what you think we’ve been doing?”
Chance chuckled, stood, and ran his hand along Sugar’s long neck. “I remember a storm one summer night, when I was eight or nine, and staying at Jessie’s place because my folks were away on a trip. I had a nasty dream and, with all the thunder and lightning, I was scared half out of my skin. I ran up the back stairs to tell Jessie about it and son of a gun if you weren’t right there in her bed, naked as a jaybird and snoring fit to make the wallpaper come loose.”
Doc opened his mouth, closed it again.
Chance laughed. “Now, don’t go having a stroke or something. I never told anybody.” He paused, frowning. “What I can’t figure out is why it has to be such a deep, dark secret. Everybody in the county knows about you and Jessie anyhow.”
“They do?”
“Hell,” Chance drawled, “of course they do. It’s such old news, nobody even talks about it anymore.”
“Fat lot of help you’ve been,” Doc muttered, flushed. “You just remember, if things go sour between Jessie and me, it’s at least partly your fault.”
“How do you figure?” Chance retorted, but the old coot was done talking. He stormed out of the barn and, presently, Chance heard his rig start up.
He chuckled and went to fetch a halter for Sugar, so he could lead her out of the stall and work with her in the corral for a while. He’d just begun when Jase pulled in.
“I just met Doc at the turn-off from the bridge,” the sheriff said. “We damn near collided. What’s got his shorts in a bunch?”
Chance sighed. Shrugged. “Who knows?”
Jase gave the horse a quick once-over. “That’s a nice-looking animal, but skittish as hell.”
Chance nodded, waited for his one-time best friend to get to the point. He and Jase had been out of the habit of making small talk for a long time. Once, they’d been pals, swimming in the creek, riding all over their combined properties, sharing kid-secrets and big plans for the future. Then they’d reached their midteens, and they’d both fallen hard for Katie Robinson, the new girl at Primrose Creek High School. That had been the beginning of the end.
Jase sighed, and his shoulders drooped a little under his official sheriff’s jacket. His badge was a cold gleam in the sunlight of that autumn morning. “I came to ask you about the run-in with the cat, over at Jessie’s place last night? Did you shoot it?”
“No,” Chance answered, recalling that it had been Jase who had called him, after receiving a mayday from one of the twins. “It got away.” Hell, he’d forgotten all about the mountain lion, once he’d carried Hallie into that back bedroom and peeled away the blanket and that bathrobe she’d been wearing. . . .
Abruptly, he steered his thoughts in another direction, but the memory of Hallie lingered in his loins, like a molten weight.
Jase took off his hat, shoved a hand through his hair. Chance noticed he was in need of a shave, and he wasn’t projecting his usual cock-of-the-walk attitude, either. “We’re going to have to put up a bounty, I guess,” he said. “Hallie wasn’t hurt, was she?”
“She’s all right,” Chance said carefully. “She was a little scared, that’s all. As for the bounty, well, it’s about time.”
Jase looked uncomfortable. “Listen, Chance—”
“What?” Chance asked, maybe a little too quickly, and too sharply.
Jase narrowed his eyes. “What is it with you? Hell, I know you wanted Katie, and she chose me, but hell, all that happened years ago. Don’t you think it’s about time we worked things out, you and me?”
Chance smiled, keeping his manner and his voice easy. “If you’re in the mood to ‘work things out,’ ” he said, “I’d suggest you start with your wife. If it isn’t too late. She told me she got a call from your girlfriend the other day. Seems like you need to make some choices and stick by them.”
Jase looked ready to bite the top rail of the corral fence right in half. “Damnation,” he rasped. “I have made my choice—I chose Katie.”
“Maybe you ought to tell the girlfriend that.”
“I did. And she’s not my girlfriend. I made a mistake, all right?”
“You sure as shit did,” Chance agreed, beginning to feel a little sympathetic in spite of himself.
“I love Katie.”
“You need to convince her of that, not me.” First Doc had come around, spilling his guts, now Jase. Hell, who did they think he was—Dear Abby?
Jase was flushed, and one of his hands kept closing into a fist at his side. “You could talk to her. She listens to you.”
Chance gave a long, ragged sigh. “Not where you’re concerned,” he said.
Jase calmed down a little. “What am I going to do?” he asked.
Chance actually felt sorry for him. During Jase’s brief but torrid affair with a secretary down in Carson City, a few months back, he’d wanted nothing so much as to knock his teeth out for being stupid enough to throw away a beautiful wife and a loving family. Jessie had maintained all along that Jase would come to his senses and make things right, and she’d counseled Katie not to file for divorce without thinking long and hard first.
Chance reached out, laid a hand on Jase’s shoulder. “Park the kids with Katie’s folks for a few days,” he heard himself say, and wondered where the words were coming from. He wasn’t normally one to give advice. “Take Katie away somewhere. Walk on the beach. Look at the stars. Talk to her, and listen to what she has to say.”
Jase squinted at him. “You think that would work?”
“It’s worth a try,” Chance said. He hoped he wasn’t turning into one of those sensitive types, always yammering about getting in touch with their inner child. To his way of thinking, most of them would do better to hook up with their inner adult instead.
“She’ll never agree to go anywhere with me.”
“Have you asked her?” Hell, next he’d be composing greeting card verses and taking up needlepoint. Was it possible that one night of stupendous sex could change a man’s basic personality? Chance shuddered at the prospect.
“Well,” Jase allowed. “No.”
“Start with that,” Chance advised.
“What if she says no?”
“I guess that might me
an she thinks you’re still involved with the other woman. In which case, nothing would satisfy her except your bringing the two of them together, and making it clear to both of them where you stand.”
Jase stared at him. “Bring them together? Are you out of your mind?”
Chance shrugged. “What else can you do?”
Jase shook his head. “I don’t know. Jump off a bridge, maybe.”
Chance laughed, slapped Jase’s shoulder again. “That’s a little drastic,” he said. “However, a bulletproof vest might be in order.”
Jase chuckled at that, albeit ruefully, and hearing it felt good to Chance, who’d missed their friendship more than he could have admitted, even to himself. “Right,” he agreed, and shook his head again. “I’d better get back to town. This cougar thing is shaping up to be a powder keg.”
“See you,” Chance replied. He leaned against the corral fence, watched until Jase had disappeared around the bend. Then he turned back to his work, though his thoughts were still with the sheriff. It might be time to stop acting like they had forever to mend their fences.
When Hallie pulled into a parking space in front of the bookstore, Katie waved through the window, turned the Open sign around to Closed, and hurried out, pulling on a jean jacket as she crossed the sidewalk. She smiled when she saw Kiera and Kiley. “Hi, everybody,” Katie said, pausing by Hallie’s open window. “Do you want to take my car?”
“We might as well take Jessie’s,” Hallie answered. “Just point me in the right direction.”
Katie nodded and got in on the passenger side, fastened her seat belt, then turned to greet the twins, who were bouncing with excitement in the backseat.
“Sorry,” Hallie said. “No baby-sitter.”
“It’s okay,” Katie said. Then she pointed. “Go that way.” They drove out of Primrose Creek, past the high school, past the Last Chance Café, onto the state highway.
Katie explained that the restaurant they were headed for was a little roadside place, owned by a woman from San Francisco. They had great pasta salads, and the best chilled avocado soup Katie had ever tasted.
Within fifteen minutes, they had arrived, pulling into a gravel parking lot. There were several cars out front, as well as an RV and a semi. Hallie stopped to study the menu, which was posted outside, and felt a pang of longing, as she did so, for the old days, before the calamity, when she’d still had Princess and the Pea. She missed planning the menus, greeting the customers, trying new dishes.
“Get us a table, will you?” Katie asked hurriedly. “I need to visit the rest room.”
“Me, too,” said Kiera.
“Me, three,” added Kiley.
Hallie nodded, and they all went inside. She stood next to the Please Wait to Be Seated sign, taking in the country French decor, while Katie and the girls vanished down a nearby hallway.
“How many?” the hostess asked, smiling.
“Four,” Hallie answered, a little distracted. She’d noticed a middle-aged couple seated at a corner table, and something about the woman seemed familiar.
As she was following the hostess to her and Katie’s table, the woman looked up. The jolt of recognition was instant. Margaret Gibbons, her mother’s old friend. Cheryl and Margaret had worked together, in the banking field, for years.
“Why, Hallie!” Margaret beamed. “Isn’t this a marvelous coincidence! How are you?”
Hallie, taken entirely off guard, received Margaret’s exuberant hug and tried to smile. If she remembered correctly, the other woman had moved to Denver or Santa Fe or somewhere, when Hallie was still in high school. There had been a going-away party, given by mutual friends, and Lou and Hallie had been invited, though they hadn’t gone. Lou had been busy with some big case, and Hallie had avoided the occasion, along with many others, simply because she didn’t want to face the empty space where her mother should have been.
“I’m—I’m fine,” Hallie managed. “How are you?”
“Wonderful!” Margaret said, gesturing toward the nice-looking gray-haired man seated across the table from her. He was standing now, in gentlemanly fashion, one hand out. “This is my husband, Edward. We’re newlyweds, and this is our honeymoon.”
“Congratulations,” Hallie said. Stay calm, she told herself sternly. They couldn’t possibly know that you’re hiding out from Joel and his cronies in the police department. She shook Edward’s large, age-spotted hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“What are you doing here?” Margaret asked. Then her face fell, and sadness came into her eyes. “We read about Lou. Awful, just awful. I’m so sorry, dear. You’ve certainly had more than your share of grief for one lifetime, it seems to me.”
Hallie felt as though her airway had been cut off. She nodded. “Thanks,” she said. She was trying to think of something to add, anything coherent would have done, when Katie and the girls reappeared. Introductions were made—that couldn’t be avoided—then Edward, bless him, interceded.
“We’d better get back on the road if we want to make Sacramento before dark, sweetheart,” he reminded his bride kindly.
Margaret was plundering her purse. “Here,” she said, coming up with a business card, which she thrust at Hallie. “My address and telephone number are both there. E-mail, too. Give me a call, and we’ll catch up.” She looked at the twins, as if memorizing their faces, then glanced at Hallie expectantly, probably expecting a card in return.
Hallie nodded again—it seemed that was all she could do—and saw, out of the corner of her eye, that the hostess was standing impatiently beside the table she’d chosen for them, tapping the vinyl-covered menus against the palm of one hand. “I will,” she lied.
She and Katie and the twins sat down, and Hallie pretended to study the menu, though in reality she was simply waiting for Margaret and Edward to leave. Only then would she be able to breathe again. She was dizzy with adrenaline, forcing herself to sit still when she wanted to leap to her feet and run like a madwoman.
“They’re gone,” said Katie, who was facing the door.
“Who were those people?” Kiera asked, frowning.
Hallie looked up, surprised. She’d thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding her agitation, despite the hurricane of emotion raging inside her. “Okay,” she said, addressing Katie. Then, to Kiera and Kiley, “I knew the lady when I was younger.”
“Can we sit at that table?” Kiley asked, pointing to the empty one across the aisle. “Me and Kiera?”
Hallie smiled. Her girls loved to play “grown-up.” “If it’s all right with the hostess,” she said.
It was, and the twins were soon ensconced at their own table.
Katie leaned forward, lowered her voice. “Are you okay, Hallie? You look ready to jump out of your skin.”
Hallie sighed. She couldn’t explain in detail, of course, but she didn’t want to lie, either. Not to Katie, whom she already regarded as a friend. If she were going to stay at Primrose Creek—which, of course, she wasn’t—she was sure the two of them would have bonded for life. “My mother and Margaret used to work together. They were close, and seeing her again—well, it stirred up a lot of old stuff.” That was certainly true. She still felt as if she’d swallowed a beehive.
“And Lou?”
So, Katie had heard the reference to Lou. Hallie had hoped her friend was still out of earshot when Margaret mentioned him. “He was my stepfather.”
Katie studied her somberly for a long moment, then flipped open her menu. “Well, obviously, you don’t want to talk about him,” she said, “and that’s okay.”
Hallie’s relief was exceeded only by her gratitude. She thought she might even be able to eat, if she proceeded slowly. She pretended to read her own menu, although in reality she was still too scattered to focus on the tiny, elegant print.
In the end, Katie chose a grilled veggie sandwich, the girls shared a giant cheeseburger, and Hallie opted for the chilled avocado soup her friend had mentioned earlier. Although she’d
been starving when they arrived, her appetite had all but deserted her since the encounter with Margaret. She would make a project of the meal, try out the soup, see how it compared to her own recipe.
The food was delicious, as it turned out, though Hallie thought her Princess and the Pea version of the soup was better. She used real cream in hers, and this was made with the fat-free stuff.
Midway through the meal, Hallie was taken aback to see that Katie’s eyes were bright with tears.
“I’m sorry!” the other woman whispered, her voice wobbly, rubbing angrily at both cheeks with the heels of her palms. She glanced over at the twins, but they were engrossed in their game of ladies-who-lunch.
Hallie reached across the table and touched her friend’s wrist. “What is it?” she asked gently.
The story tumbled out of Katie in a rush, held back for too long, punctuated by soft sobs and hiccoughs, and Hallie listened intently. Jase had had an affair with somebody named Crystal, and he and Katie had been separated since it all came out. Katie loved Jase, she was miserable apart from him, and she’d been hoping they might be able to reconcile, with some marriage counseling, once the emotional dust had settled a little. Then Crystal had called the Stratton house, claiming that she and Jase were still seeing each other.
When Katie paused, Hallie plucked a handful of napkins from the metal holder and offered them. “Men,” she muttered. For two cents, she would have told Katie her own horror story, about Joel and his various exploits during their marriage, just so Katie would know she wasn’t alone in trusting the wrong man, but of course she didn’t dare.
Katie wiped at her face, completely smearing her mascara. “But Jase isn’t like most men,” she said. “Or, at least, I always thought he was different.”
“What are you going to do?”
“File for divorce,” Katie said, with fierce resolution. Her chin wobbled.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Hallie presented the question softly. Katie was a strong woman, but she was obviously in pain. A decision made in haste might be repented at leisure.
Katie bit her lip. Her eyes bloomed with tears again, and she shook her head. “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” she replied brokenly.
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