That Night in Texas

by Eve Gaddy

  “Okay, first you’re going to learn to bait the hook.” He held the shrimp and put the hook through the shell on its back, behind its head. “Like that, see?” He let her look at it closely, then took the shrimp off and held the hook and the bait out to her.

  She looked at the wiggling shrimp suspiciously. “Poor little guy. Why can’t we use dead ones? I don’t mind dead ones.”

  “Live is better. Come on. You try it.”

  Gingerly she took the shrimp from him and threaded it on the hook as he’d told her to. She listened intently while he explained what to do with the rod and reel. It didn’t look too difficult. She pulled her arm back and let fly—behind her.

  “Crud. This is harder than it looks.” She reeled it in and started over. This time she not only threw it behind her, she lost the bait. Fifteen minutes later, and frustrated beyond belief, she was no closer to success.

  “Hold on.” He picked up his crutches and got out of the folding chair. “Let me show you.” He took the rod from her and demonstrated several times. She tried again and a few minutes later he was seated and unsnarling her line.

  “Forget it,” she said. “I’m a big, fat klutz.”

  “You’re not a klutz. It’s just something new for you.” He got up again, balancing his bad leg on one crutch. “Come stand beside me here, so I can help you cast the line.”

  “You think I’m hopeless, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t think you’re hopeless.” She didn’t move. “Lana, do you want to learn to fish or not?”

  “Not.”

  He shot her an irritated glance.

  “Oh, all right.” She moved to his right side and he put his arm around her and put his hand over hers on the reel.

  “Relax.” He shook her arm. “The first thing you have to do is not stiffen up. No wonder you’re having problems.”

  How could she relax when this was the closest she’d been to a man in ages? She tried to concentrate on what he was telling her and ignore the nerves jumping in her stomach.

  “We’ll just go through the motion first without trying to cast.” He pulled her arm back and guided it forward in a throwing motion, and after several tries, he let her cast the line into the water and reel it back in as he steadied her with his arm. She did that a number of times and then he said, “Now try it by yourself.” He dropped his hand and moved away.

  She hadn’t wanted him to, she realized. Once her nerves had steadied, she’d enjoyed being near him. Maybe she wasn’t as hopeless as she’d feared. Maybe she was finally ready to move on with her life. Concentrating, she did what they’d been practicing and her line went sailing, the bait landing in the water some distance away.

  “I did it! Look, I did it!”

  His smiled flashed. “You sure did. You’re going to be a pro in no time.”

  “Now what?”

  “You reel it in slowly and then do it again. Or you can leave it out there for a bit. You can sit down if you want,” he said, and sat in his chair.

  She reeled it in, cast again, then took her seat beside him and turned to look at him. “Why aren’t you fishing?”

  “Didn’t want you to have to haul any more stuff than absolutely necessary.”

  “It’s not a big deal, Gabe. Besides, I’m the one who conned you into bringing me. Maybe we should have waited until you were more mobile.”

  “Who knows when that will be. Although, I think I’m going to be able to use a cane pretty soon.” He gave her a wry smile. “Whoopee.”

  “You’ve made a lot of progress.”

  “That’s what they tell me. You’ve got a bite,” he said, motioning to her rod.

  She felt something tugging on the line and saw the tip of the rod point down. “What do I do?” she asked.

  “Reel him in.” He laughed as she jumped up and turned the reel.

  A few minutes later a huge fish flopped on the dock. “He’s enormous! What is it? I can’t believe I caught a fish that size.” Feeling almost giddy, she laughed. Who knew fishing would be so fun? “I can’t believe I caught one at all.”

  “Speckled trout. A couple of pounds, I’d guess. Good eating.” He looked at her, smiling. He had a great smile, she thought. And dimples no grown man should have. “Keep him or throw him back?”

  “If I keep it, will it still be good tomorrow?”

  “Sure. We’ll start a stringer. I’ll filet your catch and that will keep in the cooler until we get back. But if you’re not going to cook them tomorrow, you should freeze them when you get home.”

  “Keep it, then.” She had an impulse to ask him to dinner, but she didn’t follow it. That would be way too much like a date.

  By late afternoon she’d added two more trout and a redfish to the stringer, besides catching an assortment of others they’d thrown back. They took the keepers to a wooden cleaning stand, and Gabe showed her how to filet them. After that they washed up and carried everything to the pickup, with Lana making two trips.

  Gabe looked tired, she thought as they got in the truck, and wondered if the long afternoon had been too much for him. “We can go home if you want. We don’t have to go to eat Mexican food.”

  He looked at her before starting the engine. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Yes, but… We could pick up fast food.”

  He tilted his head and considered her. “What are you trying to say that you’re not saying?”

  She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t like admitting weakness. “You look tired. Is this your first long outing since your accident?”

  “I’m fine, Lana.”

  “I don’t want you to overdo it because of me.”

  “Are you sure that’s what this is about? If you want to go home, just say so.”

  She pointed to his leg. “You’ve been rubbing your leg off and on for the last hour. I know it’s hurting. If you’re tired, we can skip the restaurant.”

  He frowned. “It won’t hurt any less at home than it does here. Save the coddling for somebody else. I get plenty of that from my sisters and my mother.”

  “I’m not coddling you. I’m merely being practical. However macho you want to be, you’re still recuperating.”

  “I’m not trying to be macho.” She gave him a disbelieving look and he continued. “I forgot about it today. For the first time since the accident, I felt like myself again. I’m not ready for that to end yet.”

  Their eyes met and she smiled. “I’m not, either. Let’s go eat.” She understood, better than he knew. Because today was the first time in a very long time that she’d enjoyed the present and hadn’t worried about the future. Even better, she hadn’t thought of the past.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I’VE BEEN THINKING about your job situation,” Lana said once they had their drinks. “Maybe you could go to school and study something you like.”

  Gabe choked on his iced tea. As tired as he was, if he’d gotten a beer, he’d have fallen asleep. “Me, go to school? You mean college?”

  “Or graduate school. Yes, why not?”

  “I’m thirty-eight years old, for one thing. And I don’t have a college degree, so it would definitely be college.” He laughed and shook his head. “Me in college. Yeah, that’s going to happen.”

  “What’s so funny about that?”

  “Nothing, for someone like you. You’re a doctor. You went to school forever, right?”

  “Let’s see, four years college, four years medical school, a year of internship, a two-year residency.” She looked at him and nodded. “Yes, forever.”

  He grinned. “I hated school. Barely made it out of high school. I had two ambitions when I was in school. Three, if you count graduating. One was to fish and to make a living at it, which you know.” He ate a couple of chips and drank some more iced tea.

  “What was the other?”

  “To get into Jennifer Whistlewhite’s pants.”

  Lana choked. The waitress appeared with their food and set the steaming plates in front of them
.

  “You asked,” Gabe said, preparing to dig in.

  “True. Well, did you?”

  “Unfortunately no.” He ate some more and then continued. “She went steady with the captain of the football team and wouldn’t give me the time of day.” Jennifer Whistlewhite, his unrequited love all through high school. He hadn’t thought about her in years.

  “Although, she did go out with me once. To make her boyfriend jealous.” He smiled reminiscently. What a dumb-ass he’d been.

  “You didn’t know.”

  He shook his head. “In those days I wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box.”

  “Spoken like a man who’s been burned.”

  More than once, he thought. “What about you?” he asked instead of answering. “Have you been burned?”

  “I’m divorced.” She gave him a wry smile. “What do you think?”

  “Sorry. I forgot.”

  She didn’t say anything and they ate in silence for a bit. She ate another bite, then laid her fork down and said casually, “It was another woman.”

  “What was another woman?”

  “When I got burned. My husband had an affair.”

  “He left you for another woman?” He couldn’t believe anyone would leave Lana for another woman, but then, it took all kinds.

  She buttered a flour tortilla, then glanced up at him. Her face composed, her eyes a chilly, lake blue, she didn’t look upset. She did that cool, calm and collected ice queen bit very well, he thought. Although she might not be quite so tranquil underneath it all.

  “Yes. His therapist.”

  “Isn’t that against the Hippocratic oath?”

  She laughed and he had the satisfaction of seeing the chill leave her face. “It’s unethical. I thought it was, anyway. But by then our marriage was all but over anyway. Frankly, I was…relieved.”

  “He sounds like a loser.”

  She started to say something, then shrugged. “He was.”

  “I’d like to think Jennifer was, too, but last I heard, she had a very successful modeling career.”

  She patted his arm consolingly. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘what goes around comes around’?”

  “Sure. But in my experience it never does. At least, not to the ones who deserve it.”

  “You’re very cynical, aren’t you?”

  “Realistic,” he corrected, and signaled for the check.

  They walked to the truck in the gathering twilight. He could feel the tension come over her like a storm cloud filling the sky. She seemed nervous, almost spooked, and she kept looking around as if she expected something to happen. When they’d first walked out she’d put her hand in her pocket. Now, as they approached the truck, she pulled something out of her pocket and held it clutched in her fist. A small canister, he realized.

  “Lana, are you okay?” Gabe asked after they got in the truck.

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  He gestured at the pepper spray she still clutched in her hand. “Expecting trouble? Or did I say something to make you mad?”

  She stared at it, then flushed. “Sorry. Habit.” Hastily, she tucked it away.

  Gabe didn’t say anything. He simply started the truck and drove home. He might not be the most sensitive guy in the universe, but he was starting to get a pretty good idea of what might have happened in Lana’s past. And if what he suspected was true, he needed to be very careful how he pursued her. Careful, and slow.

  THE FOLLOWING afternoon Lana carted three flats of flowers out to her front yard. She’d had a devil of a time fitting them into the Porsche, but she’d finally managed. Dahlias and begonias, she had decided after much dithering. Exactly what her yard needed.

  It was past time she did something about her dismal flower beds. The previous owner hadn’t been much of a gardener, in fact, he’d hardly mowed the lawn. But Lana intended to get it in shape. Problem was, she knew zilch about gardening. She and Terence had lived in apartments their entire marriage. But she’d been studying, and the clerk at the lawn and garden store in Rockport, a small town to the north of Aransas City, had assured her she couldn’t go wrong with what she’d chosen.

  Her mind wandered as she planted the flowers, mostly thinking about yesterday and her date with Gabe. She had enjoyed it. Not just the fishing, but dinner afterward. She liked talking to Gabe. He was interesting, different from the men she used to date. And he was the polar opposite of Terence, an internist at the same hospital where she’d worked. Maybe that was part of his appeal.

  After the divorce she’d gone on a few dates, but she hadn’t wanted to get involved. Hadn’t been able to deal with what dating invariably led to. She wasn’t comfortable with physical intimacy, and the men she’d gone out with hadn’t understood why. And why should they have, when she hadn’t told them? Gabe, on the other hand, hadn’t even tried to kiss her. Instead of being relieved, though, she’d been disappointed. She’d found herself thinking more and more about kissing him.

  She wondered if he’d done it deliberately, so she’d think about that. And him. And wonder. If so, he’d certainly accomplished his purpose.

  “Nice flowers.”

  Startled, she looked up to see her neighbor, Maggie Barnes. She almost didn’t recognize her without her police uniform. Today she wore white slacks and a sleeveless blouse, and her long red hair was down rather than pulled back in her usual ponytail.

  “Hi, Maggie. Thanks.”

  They’d met when she moved in, then hadn’t seen much of each other until the night of Gabe’s accident. But while they waved at each other from a distance, Lana hadn’t really gotten to know her.

  “I’m a little early,” Maggie said now. “You are going, aren’t you?”

  Lana looked up at her blankly. “Going where?”

  “The party.”

  “What party?”

  “The candle party.”

  Confused, Lana simply stared at her.

  “You know, Sarah’s candle party?”

  “Sarah—” She got to her feet and shoved the hair out of her face before she remembered her hands were muddy. “Sarah Forester.” Who was nice, but pushier than Lana was comfortable with. Which was why she hadn’t committed to the party Maggie was talking about, and why she’d forgotten. Something about buying candles and playing games, Sarah had said. The whole idea hadn’t appealed to Lana.

  “She sent a police escort to be sure I’d come?”

  Maggie let out a peal of laughter. “No, but please don’t give her that idea. Sarah’s my aunt.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Maggie laughed again and Lana winced. “Open mouth, insert foot. I meant, she’s a very nice lady but I wasn’t planning on going to the party.”

  Still smiling, Maggie nodded. “Which she obviously suspected since she asked me to bring you. Do you have other plans? Besides planting flowers?”

  “Well…no. But I’m not exactly dressed for a party.” She glanced at the flowers, realizing she’d planted all but a couple. No help there.

  “Good. It saves time if we’re honest. You don’t want to come because it sounds boring and besides that, my aunt is the pushiest woman in three counties. Am I right?”

  “Maybe not in three counties.”

  Maggie grinned. “Three, maybe even four. It’s all right, I’ve known her all my life. And the candle party will almost certainly be every bit as boring as you’re thinking. But it will make your life a lot easier if you just resign yourself to coming. Sarah won’t nag you after that, but she has this obsession with making sure newcomers feel welcome. She’s relentless until they come to at least one party.”

  Oh, what the hell. “When you put it that way, I guess I’d better come. Let me plant these last two and grab a shower. Will that make us too late?”

  “Unfortunately not,” Maggie said with a cheeky grin. “I’ll be at my house waiting for you.”

  The party wasn’t nearly as boring as Maggie had predicted. Lana enjoyed visiting with th
e women, several of whom were patients of hers. It was mostly an older crowd, with the exception of herself and Maggie. She also enjoyed Maggie’s company, and her wicked, under-the-breath commentary on several of the ladies.

  “You’re dangerous,” Lana told her when they got in the car to leave. “I almost bit my tongue when Letty Washburn played the piano for us and you told me she wanted to be a concert pianist.” Poor Letty had been excruciatingly bad, not that anyone had seemed to mind, or even notice, for that matter.

  “Sad, but true,” Maggie said. “She’s convinced if she hadn’t married Harry and settled down here, she’d be as famous as Van Cliburn.”

  Lana’s eyes widened as she choked back a laugh. “Oh, I’m glad you didn’t tell me that then. I’d never have kept a straight face.”

  “The mind boggles,” Maggie agreed. “Do you want to get some dinner? I think we deserve a reward after that party. We could go to the Scarlet Parrot.”

  “That sounds good.” She had missed going out with her women friends, she thought. She’d had a few invitations from Gail, Jay’s wife, and Gail’s sister Cat, but for one reason or another, she hadn’t been able to make many of them.

  The Scarlet Parrot, Cameron Randolph’s waterfront restaurant, was an inviting place with its dark-wood-planked floor and ceiling fans, the mounted fish on the walls and the TV above the bar invariably tuned to a sports show. Often the TV was muted and the jukebox could be heard, grating out country tunes. Or sometimes there was a live band, though the couple Lana had heard were terrible. Apparently Cam was too softhearted to turn anyone down, so often as not, the bands were lousy.

  Cam’s wife took their order herself. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Delilah said, after bringing them their drinks.

  “We’re neighbors,” Lana said.

  “I dragged her to Sarah’s party. And where were you? You were supposed to be there,” Maggie said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Martha’s on vacation,” Delilah said. “So I couldn’t leave Cam without any help.”