As if on an afterthought, Sara Beth tilted her head and gazed into space. “If I were a little older, I would hit on Michael just to have a chance to kiss him. He’s so hot.”
Rosie’s mouth fell open. Her scalp tingled. She ignored the comments about Phillip but focused on Michael instead. “What do you mean, he’s hot and you would’ve hit on him? Sara Beth, you’re not messing around with boys, are you?”
“Ah, avoiding my question. So you have slept with him? That’s desperate, Rosie. He’s good looking, but creepy.” Sara Beth shook her head, grinning. “And how did I know you were going to freak out like that? No, I’m not messing around. I just know what hot is and Michael Rourke is definitely hot.” She moved from the stool, leaving it so abruptly it rocked back and forth a couple times. At the fridge, she swung open the door and stared inside.
Wincing, Rosie didn’t have to look in the modest appliance to see what Sara Beth saw. She scrunched up her nose while waiting for Sara Beth’s comment.
Never one to disappoint, Sara Beth turned, closing the door. “It’s a good thing I’m on a diet. We don’t have anything but ketchup in there.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Maybe today we could pick up some food, too. There’s supposed to be a market down by the new department store. We could go check it out while we’re doing our errands.” Rosie put her cup down and reached up to retrieve a box of generic Cream of Wheat high on a cupboard. “We have Cream of Wheat. Want to share the last of it?”
Sara Beth pasted a smile on her lips and offered a slight nod. “Sure. That sounds good. I’ll get the sugar.”
The only thing that made the gruel-like mix taste heavenly was tablespoons of sugar with cinnamon. Rosie closed her eyes. “I’m out of cinnamon, though.”
Sara Beth grinned. “It’s a good thing I have some leftover Red Hots from the other day.” She ran to their room and returned with a handful of small bright red candies.
Pulling her in for a hug, Rosie laughed. “Well, if nothing else, we have candy-flavored wheat soup for breakfast. What more could we ask for?”
Sara Beth shrugged. “A date with Michael Rourke should be at the top of the list.” She winked and scooted away from the swat Rosie aimed at her butt. “Let’s eat. I’m starving here, people.”
SARA BETH GRABBED ROSIE’S shoulder. “Oh my word, Rosie, please say you didn’t tell Phillip we were going to be here today.” Her high whisper and digging fingers grated on Rosie’s last nerve.
Digging through her large bag for the car keys, Rosie covertly glanced at the heavy number of people milling around town square. In the last few months, Colby had really grown in size. Rosie couldn’t tell if they were permanent or transient, and she didn’t recognize a lot of them. Honestly, she didn’t really care.
She couldn’t find her dang keys and the ever-present, apparently-approaching, Phillip only made her dig faster and harder. Get out of there, Rosie. Now!
“Holy cow, Rosie. He’s coming this way! Break up with him and go for Michael.” Sara Beth’s last word trailed off until she cut it short.
Rosie looked up in time to witness her sister’s open-mouthed astonishment as Phillip reached them and hugged Sara Beth. On edge after the night before, Rosie offered a tight smile. “Phillip.” She reached for Sara Beth, pulling her out of Phillip’s arm’s reach.
“Hello, Rosie. I was hoping to see you today.” He stretched out a hand and smiled brightly at Sara Beth who avoided meeting his gaze. “Sara Beth, it’s always so nice to see you. You’re getting prettier every day. You put everyone else here to shame.” He turned his attention to Rosie who couldn’t help but itch to punch him in the face. His oily salesman act didn’t fool her or her sister.
Guiding Sara Beth toward her side of the car with a well-aimed tug on her fingers, Rosie looked down into her purse again, intent on finding her keys. Offhandedly, she muttered. “That’s nice of you to say, Phillip. I have to get to work. Excuse us.” She glanced up and jerked her head at Sara Beth who hadn’t climbed in the vehicle yet.
Other women passed them, scouring Phillip with their gazes. Yes, he was very good-looking, Rosie wasn’t denying that. But, dang, evil insanity took the charm right out of a man. And, sorry, but you can’t just say ‘baby, you’re so hot’ and then in the next sentence, ‘do what I say or I’m going to tell everyone you’re a whore’. The whole situation left her with a coppery flavor in her mouth. Or that could be the blood from her chewing the inside of her cheek.
But she’d rather blame it on Phillip.
Rosie held up the keys she pulled from her purse and waved them in a victory motion in Phillip’s face. “Well, gotta go.” She climbed into the seat and ignored him as he stood sentry beside her door.
Sara Beth shook her head. “I can’t believe he’s still after you like that. It’s not like he’s getting anything positive.” She shivered and rubbed her arms.
Rosie shrugged. She had to play off the relationship with Phillip or Sara Beth would start asking more questions. “Yeah, subtlety isn’t really his strong suit. He just doesn’t understand that he’s not my type.” She turned the key in the ignition and the little engine roared to life. Phillip tapped on the glass of her window and waved a hand large enough to smother her face.
“Ya think? The guy’s not desirable. At first, I thought, he’s kind of hot. But now, it’s like, zombie stalker fest, you know? If only he didn’t have money, I’d be like stop seeing him.” Sara Beth clicked her tongue and shook her head in disgust.
She made a good point. Too many things pointed toward money and affluence, being accepted by the right people and shunning the wrong ones. Unfortunately, Rosie had a feeling the sentiments were incorrect, even if knowing the right people might be the only way her business dreams would take off.
Fact was she needed money. More and more and more.
“Off to work I go.” Rosie pulled out of the parking spot, jerking the stick shift.
Crunch.
Her neck snapped forward. Sara Beth braced herself on the dash.
Slamming on the brake, she turned and glanced out the rear window. “Oh, no, oh no.”
Rosie revved her engine and tried pulling forward. She’d lodged the car under a big work truck blocking her exit.
She shifted into first and pushed the gas.
Crunch.
She winced, pulling her lips back and baring her teeth. Puffing air from her lips, she groaned. “Seriously. This day is getting better and better.”
But at least she’d broken the Bug free from under the truck paneling. She left the car idling in neutral with the emergency brake on and jumped from her door.
Rushing to the back of her vehicle, she checked the bumper and back panels for any damage. A small scratch on the top of the chrome fender brought her eyebrows together. Spinning toward the other vehicle and its owner, hands clenched at her sides, she stopped short.
Of all the numerous trucks in all of Montana, she had to crash into his.
“Hey, there, Rosie.” Michael’s slow smile confused her. She’d just run into his truck. Shouldn’t he be mad or something? Anything but slow and confident. And calm. Calm? Who was calm in a situation like that? And hot! “Are you okay?”
“Hey there? Am I okay? Aren’t you going to yell at me or something? I almost ran over your truck.” Tears threatened, but she held them at bay. He probably waited to tell her he was going to sue her for everything she was worth. Well, the last laugh would be on him. She wasn’t worth much.
He’d never want to date her now. She’d ruined his truck. She swiped at her cheeks as fast as she could, hopefully before he noticed their presence.
Running into Phillip and then literally running into Michael’s vehicle might give her gray hair at her young age.
Michael ran a hand over the back of his truck, glancing at her from under the brim of his Stetson which he wore as naturally as his lazy smile. “I don’t think you almost ran over the truck, Rosie, but if it would make you feel better, I thin
k we should exchange contact information... for our insurance companies.” He nodded, his gaze never leaving her.
Sara Beth watched with hands clasped in front of her. She gasped, causing Rosie to roll her eyes.
Rosie clenched her hands at her sides. “Thank you, but I only have a landline without voicemail. It’s not the best way for anyone to contact me.” She ducked down to reinspect the potential damage on both cars. On his truck, not even a scratch could be seen. “I’m fine with mine, if you are. I don’t have insurance.” She lifted her chin. She couldn’t afford insurance of any kind. That money each month fed them. Should she have told him that? Or would she be better off not mentioning it?
“Well, maybe I could touch base with you at the Diner? I’m only checking in case I remember something important about the case. I’d hate to be unable to let you know, especially with such valuable information.” He winked at her, slow and with eyes warm from something besides the afternoon sun. “Plus, what if my truck really is totaled and I need a ride home? I could always ask you after you get off work.”
His calm confidence appealed to her while his heart-gripping smile did things to her insides.
Around town, people respected him. Rosie never figured out what he did exactly. Something to do with the bank, maybe. He was there a lot. With how well he carried himself, he could be one of the business owners on the street.
Sara Beth chimed in, cutting off Rosie’s comment. “She works tonight after five.”
Rosie shot her a cutting look to rival daggers darting through the afternoon air. “Thank you, Sara Beth.” She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want Michael to see her at the diner. Not since they’d finally spoken to each other. Even though she’d seen him numerous times there over the last few years, just the thought that he’d see her there at work when she couldn’t be herself made her anxious.
“A man’s gotta eat dinner. I’ll see you tonight.” He pushed off from his truck and rounded the hood. Climbing into the cab, he touched the brim of his hat and saluted his fingers her way before roaring off down the street.
Rosie returned to the driver’s seat in the Bug. She closed her eyes for a moment and focused on breathing. Michael Rourke. Oh wow. Just breathe, girl, just breathe.
Sara Beth broke through Rosie’s search for patience. “I have no idea what’s going on, but Michael Rourke is definitely interested. If you don’t find a way to get asked, I will. Please.” Sara Beth lowered her window, resting her elbow on the sill. “This is getting ridiculous. I know you’ve watched him for a while now. I mean, who hasn’t, right?”
Rosie didn’t have an answer.
No, Sara Beth didn’t know what was going on. It wasn’t any of her business. What would she say if she knew about Devlyn Caracus killing their mother? Or what about the fact that Madam’s house wasn’t a horse ranch like Rosie had her believing, but actually a whore house? Or what about the fact that Rosie dated Phillip to keep his mouth shut so Sara Beth didn’t find out from other people that the Scott girls were less than exemplary citizens?
Overall, Sara Beth moved along in blissful ignorance. And Rosie allowed it because she had to protect her sister as long as she could.
No one had been around to protect Rosie.
Michael
Chapter 6
PARKING THE TRUCK BEHIND the Bug had been more of an accident than a plan. Michael had seen Rosie and wanted to talk to her.
Being struck by her had been more of a fortunate side-effect of his excitement.
Shifting gears on his drive out to Lacey Caverns, Michael whistled, unable to hold in the general euphoria swelling inside him. The opportunity to talk to her and their banter made him grin. She’d been so concerned, expecting him to yell and scream. All he’d wanted to do was check her over to make sure she was okay.
When she’d climbed back in her car, he’d moved out of her way. He’d hidden the dented-in rear panel that the small German automobile had crushed in. She didn’t need to know she’d actually damaged anything.
The last thing that girl needed was any more stress. Word around town was she was raising her sister all alone. Not something he envied her for, but he respected her willingness to do so. In fact, it showed a loyalty to family he found necessary.
The drive didn’t take as long with his thoughts occupied with Rosie. Michael turned onto the long drive and reached the garage and barn. Parking, he climbed out and reached into the back for the shovel and pitchfork he’d been asked to purchase from the general store in town.
“Hey, Michael, how’s it going?” Ronan called from the half-way open barn door.
“Good, sir. How are things out here? I heard we got a new foal this morning.” Michael turned and waited while Ronan joined him by the truck.
Spying the damage toward the rear of the tire, Ronan drew his eyebrows together. He squatted down to inspect the body, running a finger over the cracked pane. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Shaking his head, Michael adjusted his hat, but didn’t look away from Ronan’s questioning gaze. “Yes, sir. Everyone’s fine. I parked behind a young lady’s car while she was trying to back up. She ran into me, but I take full responsibility. I’ll pay to have it fixed.”
Ronan stood, waving his hand. “No, it’s not a big deal. I have insurance for this kind of thing. I’m just glad everybody’s okay.” He watched Michael for a drawn out moment, studying him. “This young lady... is she worth it?”
“Worth it, sir?”
“You know, worth a car accident?” Ronan chuckled. “I’ve been there. I’m just wondering if she’s what you’re willing to risk for her.”
“Oh, yes. She’s definitely worth it.” Michael didn’t know how to describe how he felt about Rosie. He didn’t know her, but he knew her. Hell, he was more confused than that sounded.
“I hope so. Get it into the shop and have Big Bill take a look at it. We need an estimate to turn into the insurance company.” A ding-dong-ding pealed through the ranch. Ronan glanced toward the house and clasped a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, Michael, my own young lady is calling me.” He smiled and walked away, lengthening his stride and increasing his speed as he got closer to the house.
Ronan had found his “definitely, worth it lady”.
Michael had, too.
Rosie
Chapter 7
WAITRESSING HAD ITS drawbacks. Tips depended on attitude and personality, only a bit on the actual service part of it.
Not one to smile like a jack-o-lantern or giggle like a schoolgirl, Rosie took orders and served the food with a calm politeness many seemed to appreciate. Brown-nosing had never appealed to her.
“Rosie, Mary just went home. Her son’s sick. You take her section. I’ll close yours.” Tom, the manager and cook of the diner – literally called The Diner – also manned the till and directed the bussers – and anyone else in earshot.
Nodding, Rosie sighed when she passed him, her arms over-laden carrying plates heaping with meatloaf, potatoes and gravy, rolls, salads, soups, turkey slices, fried chicken, and even one liverwurst. Since she’d started, her muscles had grown which seemed miraculous since she’d always been thin.
With Mary gone and Rosie’s section full, Rosie would be running two sections for quite a while. And it was in the middle of the dinner rush. A dull ache started between her temples. What she wouldn’t give for a break right then.
“Here you go.” Setting out the plates for a large dinner party celebrating a birthday, Rosie tucked the empty tray under her arm and offered a smile. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you. I’ll check on ya in a little bit.” A short nod and she set off to hang the next ticket and serve up some water glasses for another table.
Tom waved her to the order window. “Rosie! Come here.” She approached the opening between the front and back and turned to study her customers in both sections while Tom rasped behind her. “Mr. and Mrs. James just walked in. Take good care of them. I’m
so close to paying Ronan off, I don’t need anything upsetting the cart.” He dinged the bell inches behind her ear and hollered. “Order up!”
Wincing at the shrill noise, Rosie grabbed a couple glasses of water and approached the booth Mr. James and his wife chose. She set the drinks down and welcomed them to The Diner. “Hello, I’m Rosie. I’ll be your server tonight. Specials are listed on the front – Tom is particularly proud of the meatloaf tonight. Can I give you some time?” She could sleep through an introduction and order. She never strayed from her self-made script. Something about the redundancy of it kept her calm.
Ronan grinned across to his wife who obviously had Salish heritage as she wore her long dark hair down past her shoulders. Her straight nose and highbrow gave her an air of royalty. Ronan reached for her hand, fingers entwining as they clasped on the table. “What do you think, Kelsey? Should we try the meatloaf?”
With a half-shrug and a small smile, Kelsey put her menu down. She glanced up at Rosie. “Last time we had Tom’s special, I was sick for days. Not because of the special but because I was pregnant with my second child.” She offered a wink to Rosie then looked at Ronan. “I think you should have the special and I’ll have the chef salad – with blue cheese dressing.” She arched her brow, returning her gaze to Rosie. “Mary’s not here? That woman has been serving this section for ages.”
“No, ma’am. She had a family issue to tend to. And your order sounds well planned out.” Self-consciously, Rosie tucked loose hair behind her ear. “Will there be anything else?”
Ronan handed the menus to Rosie and studied her as she wrote their order. “I’ve seen you around town. Rosie Scott, right? The young lady who cleaned the floors at the museum?” Ronan nodded, eyes wide. “I have never seen those floors done so well. I’ve lived here my whole life and been in that building every couple of months for years with school and family outings. The floor has always been closer to a grayish-black.” He pointed at the table. “Kels, this is the girl I was telling you about. You saw those floors. I need that kind of cleaning in the bank.”
Romancing Redemption Page 4