by Lynsay Sands
Bailey shifted her head a little higher on Mary's stomach and whined piteously, a sure sign she wanted to go outside and relieve herself. Mary pulled her hands from her face and scowled at the dog.
"Really?" she asked in a hissed whisper. "Keep me up half the night with your nonsense and then expect me to crawl out of bed to let you out?"
Bailey blinked at her innocently, eyes wide, and Mary sighed and sat up, forcing the dog off of her. She muttered, "Fine. But I have to dress first, so you'll just have to wait a couple minutes."
Bailey whimpered and sat up to give her "the sad eyes," and Mary shook her head and grimaced in response. She supposed, to be fair about it, she had obviously kept the dog awake with her thrashing about and moaning in her sleep. In fact, Mary supposed she should be grateful Bailey had woken her repeatedly, otherwise she might have disturbed Dante's sleep . . . and wouldn't that have been embarrassing? It probably would have been obvious that her dreams were sexual in nature. Bailey had woken her up at one point as she was gasping, "oh, oh, oh," over and over again. In her dream, Dante was--Well, point being, she'd still been crying out when she'd woken up. Had she got much louder, her guest would have heard and had no doubt about the kind of dreams she was enjoying.
Which is perfectly normal and healthy, Mary told herself as she crawled to the end of the bed and stood to tug the closet door open to find clothes. Hell, she was surprised she could still have wet dreams.
Sunlight was pouring in through the open blinds at the head of the bed, making it easy to see and pick out clothes. Mary moved quickly into the bathroom with shorts and a T-shirt and closed the door so Bailey wouldn't try to follow. The bathroom, while spacious for an RV, was tiny enough that the two of them in there would have made it as crowded as the subway at rush hour.
Very aware that Bailey needed to relieve herself too, Mary started out trying to be quick about getting herself ready to face the day, but then as it occurred to her that they would no doubt wake up poor Dante as they traipsed through the living area, she frowned and slowed a bit. It was times like this that she realized how inconvenient an RV could be. Of course, with just her and Joe in it, having only one door had never been a problem, but the few times they'd had guests with them, she'd thought that a second exit in the back of the RV might have been nice. Of course, there was nowhere to put one back here, unless she wanted to walk through the shower to a door, but . . .
Grimacing, she grabbed the brush and ran it quickly through her hair. There was nothing for it; she'd have to take the risk of disturbing Dante. It would be cruel to make Bailey wait until they heard Dante stirring out there. He was young and might sleep for hours yet. Sighing, she set down the brush, then turned and slid the bathroom door open, only to pause when she saw that the bedroom door was cracked open and Bailey was gone.
Frowning, Mary crossed to open the pocket door all the way and peered out into a pristine living area. The couch was back to its L shape, the sheets and blanket removed, folded neatly and resting on the last seat with the pillows on top and Bailey and Dante were nowhere to be seen.
Moving to the window over the sink, she shifted the blinds aside and peered out, a small smile claiming her face when she saw Dante walking Bailey toward the river. He was wearing a pair of Joe's jeans and the black T-shirt from the small stack of clothes she'd given him. Both items were tight on him, the jeans hugging him in all the right places, but at least reaching to the tops of his feet, which sort of surprised her. Joe had been six feet, but this man was a good eight inches taller. Of course, he was wearing them low on the hips whereas Joe had worn them at the waist, and he appeared to have a longer torso than Joe, who had been all legs. As for the T-shirt, well, it had certainly never looked that good on Joe. Where Joe had preferred loose T-shirts, this one was tight on Dante, at least across the chest and on his upper arms where it hugged him like a woman in love. It was loose at the waist though. The man had a smaller waist than most women she knew, Mary noted with appreciation.
Damn, he was a fine-looking man, she thought. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail low on his neck. She'd never thought much of long hair on men, but he could convert her. It was a shame she wasn't thirty or forty years younger, she thought with a sigh and then made herself stop ogling the poor man and turn to the chore of making coffee.
Mary made a cup for herself, then prepared one for Dante and set them on the counter by the door before filling a dog dish with food and water. She carried the double-bowled dog dish outside first, and set it on the picnic table to protect it from visiting neighbor dogs. Mary then returned to the RV and grabbed both coffees and carried them to the picnic table as well. She'd barely settled on the seat and taken her first sip of coffee when Dante appeared, walking up the path with a well-behaved Bailey leading the way.
The perfect dog performance Bailey was giving ended the moment she spotted Mary seated at the picnic table. The German shepherd immediately jerked at her leash, trying to charge forward. But one word from Dante and she settled back to a walk, if a much faster one.
"I made you coffee," Mary said, pushing his cup across the table as he sat down across from her. She then moved Bailey's double dog dish to the ground, smiling faintly when the dog attacked the food as if she hadn't eaten in days. Bailey always acted like she had to gobble it all up or someone might take it away. Perhaps a remnant of the first eight weeks of her life, where she'd been part of a litter and probably had had to eat quickly or her siblings would eat it all.
"You look tired," Dante said quietly.
Mary stiffened and then continued to stare at Bailey, aware that she was blushing. Hoping he hadn't noticed, she shrugged. "Didn't sleep well. Probably just all the excitement of the day," she added, although that was a blatant lie. It had been the excitement of her dreams and their disturbing Bailey that had caused her lack of sleep.
"Neither did I," Dante murmured and then suggested, "Perhaps we should nap after Bailey has finished her meal. She could stay in the front of the RV with me so that she does not disturb you."
Mary glanced at him sharply, but his expression was innocent. Still, he'd obviously heard something last night to know that Bailey had woken her repeatedly. Clearing her throat, she shook her head. "Dave and Carol are expecting us at the Round Up for breakfast at eight."
"The Round Up?" Dante asked uncertainly.
"The restaurant here," she explained. "It's just a little shack, really, with outdoor tables, but they make the best food, and Carol and Dave invited us to join them for breakfast."
"Ah," he nodded and picked up his coffee. "Then we will have to leave soon. It must be almost eight now, it was ten to eight when I put Bailey's leash on her."
Mary automatically looked at her wrist, but hadn't put her watch on yet. She glanced to Bailey to see that she was half done with her food already, and said, "As soon as she's done then," and picked up her coffee to take a drink.
She was only half done with hers when Bailey finished eating. Not wanting to have Dave drive down after them, Mary left Bailey to drink her water and took her and Dante's cups and carried them quickly into the RV to set in the sink. She grabbed her keys then, locked the door of the RV and took Bailey's leash as she joined Dante to walk to the main building, where the office, restaurant, store, and entertainment room were situated.
"I told them you were my nephew," she murmured as they walked.
"I see," he said slowly, and then asked, "Why?"
Mary felt the blood rush to her face at the question, and grimaced, but said, "It seemed easier than . . ." She shrugged. "I figured you didn't want me telling anyone about your circumstances; the kidnapping and everything."
"No, but you could have said I was your lover."
Mary almost stumbled over her own feet at the suggestion and turned to scald him with a look. "The hell I could. You aren't my lover, and I'll be damned if I'm having them all looking at me like I'm some sort of cradle-robbing cougar. Good Lord, they'd think I'd gone off my rocker."<
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"Who'd think you'd gone off your rocker?"
Mary turned her head sharply to see Dave standing a few feet ahead on the end of a path leading off the lane they were on.
"And more importantly, why would anyone think that?" he continued when she stared at him wide-eyed. "You're one of the sanest women I know. You never get hysterical like Carol does."
"Oh," Mary blinked, uncomfortable at the more favorable rating he was giving her than his wife. Then she forced a smile and waved the question away. "No reason, we were just--" She waved again vaguely and then changed the subject. "Sorry if we're a couple minutes late, but you didn't have to come looking for us."
"I wasn't," he assured her easily, falling into step on her other side as they reached him. "I was just coming back from a walk around to check on everything. Someone tried to break into the campground last night. The dogs chased them off," he added quickly when Mary glanced at him with alarm. "But I wanted to make sure they hadn't found another way in and caused trouble."
"Who was it?" Dante asked, tension in his voice.
"I don't know. A couple of tough-looking characters from what I could tell. But I didn't get a good look. Brutus, Little Mo, and Tiger scared them off."
"They're Dave and Carol's Dobermans," Mary explained. "Beautiful dogs. Good guard dogs too."
"Yeah. Troublemakers think twice when those three come running. They were out for their nightly constitutional when it happened and scared them off. So we decided to leave them out all night after those yahoos tried to force the gate. Didn't hear another peep from the dogs so it isn't likely they tried again, but I just wanted to be sure."
Mary nodded, but glanced to Dante. He met her gaze and she could tell he was thinking the same thing she was, that it might have been his kidnappers trying to ascertain whether they were there or not, and perhaps even hoping to steal him back.
"Thank goodness for Brutus, Little Mo, and Tiger then," she murmured.
"Yes," Dante and Dave said together.
They'd neared the office by then and Mary found herself glancing toward the gate and the road beyond, her eyes searching for a black van. There were no vehicles on the road though, that she could see. If it had been his kidnappers, they'd obviously moved on to check out other campgrounds. There were several around the area. She just had to hope they didn't return. The gates were open again now, and would remain so all day. Which meant they had to worry about what the kidnappers would do if they got inside and found the RV and Dante.
Eight
The Round Up was busy when they got there, every picnic table on the deck around it seeming occupied, but Carol had saved one for them and stood to smile and wave them over when they approached. The men dropped back to let Mary lead the way with Bailey, and she smiled and greeted several regulars she'd met on past stops as they made their way through the tables. Carol had chosen an outer table, probably because she expected Mary to bring Bailey as usual, and Mary quickly attached Bailey's leash to one of the legs on the outside, then greeted Carol with a hug.
"How did you sleep?" Carol asked as they settled at the table. "You look tired. I hope the dogs barking didn't disturb you when those men tried to break in?"
"No. We're back far enough we didn't hear a thing," Mary assured her and it was true, at least for her. She didn't tell Carol that she hadn't slept well anyway though. She didn't want the questions that would follow.
"You must be the nephew," Carol said, turning her attention to Dante as he stepped over the picnic table's bench seat to settle next to Mary. Carol's eyes widened slightly as she took him in and then she murmured, "My, you're a big fella."
"Dante, this is Carol and Dave Bigelow," Mary said, trying to look at him without actually looking at him. A tricky business, but she suspected if she did look at him properly her less than aunt-like appreciation might show. "We've been friends for years. Since before they even bought the campground."
"Yes." Carol grinned and then leaned across the table to brush a hand over Dante's arm and explained, "We lived in Winnipeg just around the corner from your aunt and uncle. We've been friends for decades."
"You are Canadian as well?" Dante asked with surprise.
Carol nodded. "We used to be snowbirds too, driving the RV down here like Mary and Joe, but about eight years ago the four of us booked in here as usual, and during our stay the owners mentioned they were looking to sell and move to California to be closer to their kids. We decided we'd buy it and stay year round."
"The best decision we ever made," Dave announced with a smile.
The waitress appeared at their table then and Carol smiled at the girl and said, "Oh, Andrea. You remember Mrs. Winslow? And this is her nephew, Dante."
Mary smiled at the young woman. Carol and Dave hired a lot of locals to help out at the campground in the busy season, but Andrea was one of the year-round workers who had been with them since they'd bought the campgrounds. As Mary recalled, Andrea had started here fresh out of school at eighteen, which put her at about twenty-six, Dante's age or a little older, she thought. Mary had always liked the girl, but noting the way she was eyeing Dante like he was a tasty treat, she found herself cooling toward her.
"So, what does everybody want?" Carol asked cheerfully. Twisting in her seat, she gestured toward the blackboards on the wall of the cookhouse. "Everything we make is there on the boards, Dante."
"Yes." Andrea beamed at him. "Have whatever you want."
Mary's eyebrows rose at the suggestive offer and she asked sweetly, "How are you finding married life, Andrea? When I stopped here in the fall it was just a week or so until the wedding, wasn't it?"
"Oh," Andrea flushed, and then glanced quickly to Dante and back before mumbling, "Yes. It's fine."
"The wedding was beautiful," Carol put in when Andrea didn't say anything else. Smiling at Dante, she added, "They held it here along the river. The pictures turned out really nice."
Mary nodded as if she cared, and then glanced to the blackboards and quickly gave her order. The others followed and Andrea slipped away to take their order to the cook.
"I think our Andrea is a little taken with you, Dante," Dave said with amusement once the girl was out of earshot.
"Any red-blooded female would be," Carol said on a laugh and then teased, "If I were thirty or so years younger, Dave would have something to worry about with you here."
"You flatter me," Dante said with a smile and leaned to the side to pet Bailey as she moved to sit on the ground behind him and Mary.
Carol frowned and then glanced to Mary and asked, "I don't remember any of your or Dave's siblings moving to Italy."
Mary's eyes widened with confusion. "None of them did."
"But Dante has an Italian accent," she pointed out and then said, "Oh, is this one of Joe's chil--" She broke off sharply as she realized what she was saying. Eyes wide with alarm, Carol turned to her husband for help.
Rolling his eyes with disgust at her gaff, he changed the subject abruptly by announcing, "Carol thinks we should sell up and move back to Winnipeg."
Mary had frozen at Carol's words. She now glanced quickly to Dante, noting that he was staring at Carol with the same concentration he'd had in his eyes as he'd looked back at her the first time she'd seen him lying on her RV floor. Had he been trying to read her mind then? she wondered. And was he now reading Carol's thoughts to find out what she'd been talking about? The possibility was a humiliating one for Mary. Forcing a smile to her face, she said quietly, "You mentioned that when I stopped in the fall. But you didn't seem interested."
"He isn't," Carol said unhappily.
"Of course not," Dave said with a grimace. "It's damned cold in Winnipeg in the winter, and I'm too old to be shoveling snow."
"We could get an apartment," Carol argued at once. "Besides, I miss the kids, and the grandbabies are growing up so fast."
"They visit," Dave pointed out with irritation.
"Once a year," Carol countered. "I want to see them mor
e than that."
"You could always visit them up there," Dave pointed out. "I told you. You should go this summer and stay a couple months, then come back for the winter. We'd be driving an RV down here for the winter anyway if we didn't own this place. In fact," he continued, "If you want you could get a small apartment and stay there for the summers, we could afford that. Then you could come back in the fall for the busy season."
Carol frowned at the suggestion. "And leave you here alone all summer?"
"I'd have help running the place," he pointed out dryly. "I'd be fine."
Her mouth tightened. "Don't you want to see your grandchildren too?"
"I see them when they visit," he pointed out with a shrug. "Hell, I probably wouldn't see them any more than that if we lived in Winnipeg. Their lives are so busy, they wouldn't have time for us old fogies. Look, here comes Andrea with the drinks."
Carol opened her mouth as if to continue the argument, but then just sat back with a sigh and shook her head wearily as Andrea arrived at the table and began to set out the coffees and juices they'd ordered.
Mary murmured a thank-you as the girl set an orange juice and cup of coffee in front of her, and then glanced from Dave to Carol with concern. It was obvious that Carol wasn't happy, and it seemed equally obvious that Dave didn't care. He was happy with their life the way it was and was unwilling to bend. She had noticed that Dave had suggested Carol go north alone if she wanted, not even mentioning the possibility of his joining her for part of the time. It seemed after forty years of marriage, there was trouble between the Bigelows.
Once Andrea had left, Dave turned the conversation to attractions in the area that Dante might like to see. Mary noticed that Dante murmured politely in response to each suggestion, but didn't encourage him much, and then the food arrived and the conversation dwindled as they tucked into their meal.
Dave often claimed they had the best cook in Texas working for them, and Mary couldn't argue the point. Every meal she'd ever had at the Round Up had been excellent, and this breakfast was no exception. She would have enjoyed it more, however, had the mood at the table been less tense. Where she usually enjoyed visiting with Dave and Carol, this time she was actually glad when one of the workers hurried to the table as they finished their meal and dragged Carol and Dave away to deal with an unhappy camper.