"Heck, give me a Scotch and water. No, make that a double."
Heck didn't raise an eyebrow. He just filled the glass with amber liquid and slid it in front of Dodge, then moved away.
Ramona walked over to the bar and stood next to Dodge. She was quiet for a moment, and looked up at him. She smiled sweetly, although her dark eyes were cold. "You know, Dodge, you always were a lot like Sharkey. Sometimes that's pretty good, sometimes not. Right now, I think you're the biggest damn fool I've ever known, except for Sharkey. That woman loves you. And from that stupid expression on your face, you love her. But you're too big a fool to know it. Or to know what to do about it."
She wheeled around and walked out of the Crystal Palace.
Dodge just stared at her, and he turned back to his Scotch. But it didn't help.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Tory! There's been a big mistake!"
"Huh?" Tory whirled her chair back around to the desk. Daydreaming out the office window held more interest for her than the piles of rubble on her desk. Somewhere in that rat's nest was Cliff Snyder's letter stating that Yazzie's trial was set for September. She and the others would be subpoenaed, so she should make the appropriate arrangements to take a short leave from work. She and the other sun seekers would be there, including Dodge.
Dodge's note was there on her desk, too. But she knew exactly where it was. She had hidden it beneath the right corner of the large flat calendar.
Megan, Tory's assistant, strode into the office waving a pink order blank. "This just can't be right." She jerked open a drawer of the gray metal cabinet and began leafing furiously through the files.
"What's wrong?" Lethargically, Tory watched as Megan flipped back her straight blond hair and mumbled to herself as she searched the files. Tall, statuesque Megan was a natural with sales at Tall and Terrific. She was also a natural with the bookkeeping. And the ordering.
Megan didn't halt her search but said over her shoulder, "I'm positive we only ordered thirty, but they've delivered three hundred! Now what are we going to do with three hundred alpaca vests? Aha! Here it is!" She pulled out a corresponding sheet and studied it with pursed lips.
"What does it say?"
"Says here three hundred." Megan looked at Tory. "Your initials."
Tory's blue eyes widened. "Oh, good heavens! Did I do that? I'm so sorry ..."
Megan shook her head. "Don't apologize, Tory. I'll see what I can do about rectifying it."
"Maybe I should go talk to him since it's my mistake."
"No, let me." Megan paused and looked closely at her boss. "It's probably none of my business, Tory, but you're just not with it these days. You haven't been since you returned from Tombstone. I don't understand. It's like you just don't care anymore."
"But I do care. It's just a simple mistake." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I know, I know. No mistake is simple."
"Maybe I should do all the ordering to prevent this from happening again."
Tory nodded weakly and watched rather helplessly as her capable assistant whirled out of the room. She tapped her glossy fingernails on a tiny cleared spot on the desk and listened as Megan explained the mistake to the delivery man. What was wrong with her? In her heart, she knew. She had fallen helplessly, hopelessly, in love with a rake and a rambler named Dodge Callahan. And he was not in love with her.
She looked down and studied the mess on her desk. She really should get this stuff organized. Tomorrow. She'd do it tomorrow.
Megan's pleading voice hushed, and Tory waited expectantly.
It was a few minutes before Megan reappeared, a cup of hot tea in each hand. With her elbow, she cleared a corner of the desk and set the cups down. "Hope you have lots of friends who'd like Alpaca vests for birthday and Christmas presents for the next ten years. We're stuck with them."
"Oh, no!"
"Oh, yes. Signed and sealed. A deal is a deal." Megan posed with a finger alongside her cheek. "Maybe we can come up with some crazy promotion and give them away."
"It's a thought."
Megan laughed off Tory's seriousness and reached into the bottom drawer for a small brown bag. "I've closed the shop so we can take a lunch break. We'll discuss vest gimmicks later. Right now, there's something else."
Tory smiled and sipped her tea. "Okay, what's on your mind?"
"Look, I don't know what's bugging you, Tory, but I feel we should talk about it. We've been friends as well as coworkers for a long time, and I wish you'd share it with me. Maybe you're worried about the upcoming trial with all the negative ramifications it might have."
"No, I feel very positive about that. It's the one thing I can do for my father. Our only link. I'm looking forward to testifying against the bastard who killed him."
Megan nodded silently and studied Tory's intent expression. "Well, if not the trial, what is it then?"
"Oh, Megan, I haven't meant to exclude you," Tory said earnestly. "But you're right. I've had a lot on my mind lately, and I haven't been very alert to the business at hand. Actually, I've been thinking seriously about selling the shop."
Megan's eyes flew wide open at Tory's bombshell. "What?"
"Don't worry, I intended all along to offer it to you first. In fact, I want you to have it so much that I'm willing to work with you on the finances. You do want it, don't you?"
"Yes, but this comes as a shock! You've never even mentioned selling out completely. I had no idea you were thinking about this."
"I know. I just came up with the idea recently." Tory played with her cup nervously. "It was a hard decision to make. There are lots of memories around here."
Megan smiled gently. "Tall and Terrific was your mother's pride and joy. But you made it successful."
"That's just it," Tory agreed. "The shop was Mama's, not mine. I merely helped her run it and evolved into being the manager when she was sick. Of course, when I inherited it, I tried to carry on. But it just wasn't the same without her around. And I just don't have the enthusiasm for this type of business."
"I can see that."
"But you, Megan . . . Why, right from the start, you had a way with the customers and a feel for the business. That's why you're just the right person to run it, and I'd feel good about selling to you, whereas to a stranger ..." Tory's voice dwindled to nothing, and Megan filled in the silent gap.
"I do love this type of work. And this shop. I love the idea of me owning Tall and Terrific." She looked sharply at Tory. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
Tory's smile was sad but firm. "Yes."
"But what will you do?"
"I honestly don't know yet. I haven't given it much thought."
Megan looked closely at her friend. "You haven't thought about the future? Maybe you should wait a little while before making a final decision. I don't mind, honestly."
"No, I've decided for sure. I'm going to sell it to you, Megan."
The two looked at each other for a moment, then fell into a warm embrace.
"I can't believe this is happening to me," Megan said happily, and opened her lunch bag.
"Maybe we should go out to lunch and have some wine to celebrate," Tory suggested.
Megan shook her head. "This may not be very appropriate, but it'll have to do. I think we both need to save our money." She pulled out several small packages and lined them up on the desk. "Take your pick. Boiled egg. Ritz crackers and—"
Tory gasped audibly. "Not Ritz crackers and peanut butter!" Surely she didn't have Ritz crackers and peanut butter, Dodge's old standby.
"No, but that's another favorite." Megan chuckled. "This is almost as bad. Ritz and cheddar cheese. You like it?"
Tory sighed with crazy relief. "Yes, cheese on a Ritz is fine." She had to stop doing this, letting her mind go berserk, letting everything remind her of him. Why, cheese and peanut butter were common foods, not restricted to a rangy cowboy named Dodge Callahan. Still, her hands fluttered, and she fumbled the small cracker sandwich and dropped it r
ight into her tea cup. "Oh, drat! Look what a mess I've made! How awkward of me!" She took the cup into the adjoining bathroom and dumped it into the toilet.
"Tory, are you all right?"
"Yes, sure. Just a little flighty today." She emerged with a fake smile.
"Shall I fix you more tea?"
"No—uh—yes. No, you stay there, Megan. I'll do it. I can certainly fix myself a cup of tea."
Curiously, Megan watched Tory's nervous antics. Finally, Tory sat down again, with fresh tea and another Ritz with cheese. "It's that man, isn't it?" she asked quietly.
Tory's blue eyes shot open, then dropped just as quickly. "What make you say that?"
"Just a feeling I have. It's that man you met in Tombstone. Dodge Callahan. Wonderful name, Dodge Callahan," she murmured dreamily. "Have you heard from him?"
Tory swallowed hard and decided to try to talk about him. If she couldn't tell her closest friend, who could she tell? Anyway, maybe talking about it might relieve this tremendous pain deep inside her. "Actually, yes. I got a note from him just this week inviting me up to see him in Reno."
"Great! Then that's why you're so nervous."
"No, I don't think so." Tory kept her eyes averted and tried to convince herself it didn't matter.
"Well, what is it? You're going, of course." Megan popped a cracker into her mouth with a satisfied smile. "A trip to Reno to see Dodge Callahan should settle you down."
"I don't know if I'm going." Tory folded a tissue neatly in her lap and stroked it as one would a cat. "I haven't decided."
"Don't you want to see him again?"
"Well, it isn't that simple. Of course I'd like to see him . . . Well, what I mean is, it would be nice—"
"Nice?" Megan repeated shrilly. "I think you might just crack into a million pieces if you don't see him. That's how serious this is."
"Now, Megan, you don't understand everything."
"What's to understand? Do you like him?"
Tory pressed her lips together and nodded.
"Love him?"
"It doesn't matter what I feel. That feeling isn't mutual."
"Has he said so?"
"It's what he hasn't said that counts."
"I see. Well, I wonder if he's as miserable as you are?"
Tory smiled weakly. "I don't know."
"Then why don't you go find out?"
"I . . . well, maybe I should . . ." Tory's eyes clouded as she thought of the rugged, broad-shouldered man she'd loved so quickly. And left. But there was good reason. They weren't well suited for each other. They were as different as night and day. The man was too much like her father. A rake and a rambler. A sun seeker. While she was. . . a fancy pants gal.
"Tory, I'm no great voice of experience, but I am your friend. I hate to see you going through such pain. And as much as I want to buy this shop, I'd also hate to see you do anything drastic, like selling out because of this unappreciative man."
"Oh, I'm not selling because of him. It's because of me."
"Don't ruin your life over a man, Tory."
"You're a good friend, Megan, and I appreciate your concern. But selling the shop is the only thing I'm sure of. In my heart, I know it's right for me. Somehow, I just know it." She lifted her chin and smiled firmly.
"Before you make a final decision, go visit Dodge Callahan. See for yourself if it's over between you. The fact that he invited you to see him indicates something, doesn't it?"
Tory raised her eyes. "I ... I suppose it does. Yes, maybe I should go see him." She began to smile, and a devilish gleam lighted her blue eyes. "I'll have a showdown with the town marshal!"
"The what?" Megan laughed.
"Dodge played the rough and tough town marshal in the streets of Tombstone the first day I arrived. He gunned all the bad guys down in a blaze of glory. Maybe I should see how tough he is under fire of a different sort."
Megan grinned and punched her fist through the air. "All right! You show him, Tory!"
But by the time Tory's plane landed in Reno, her fire had dwindled somewhat. During the flight, she was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof. Then she saw Dodge standing in the waiting room, head and shoulders over everyone else. Her heart soared with joy. He looked the same: white Stetson, western shirt, well-worn jeans and boots. And he looked wonderful!
Dodge spotted Tory right away. He smiled. A lady of five feet nine stood out in any crowd. She looked fantastic in a classy jade green blouse and Levis. Absolutely beautiful! Her blue eyes glistened happily as she approached him. He wondered if she were really as glad to see him as she appeared to be.
He met her with a big bear hug and a quick kiss right on the lips. Then he laughed and grabbed her again, swinging her up in his arms and around in a circle. "Tory, you look great!"
She smiled up at him, and all her reservations about seeing him again flew out the window. His strong arms swept around her, and she knew this was where she belonged. With him, no matter where. She embraced his neck and encouraged him to kiss her again. He obliged, this time long and hard. By the time they came up for air, most of the crowd had cleared.
One elderly lady scuffled past them and winked at Tory. "Atta girl! Go after 'im! The bigger they are, the harder they fall!"
Tory smiled at the sassy lady. "Not this one." She didn't think Dodge had fallen at all. Certainly not for her, it seemed. Although his welcoming kiss was nice. Very nice.
His arm tightened around her ribs. "What do you know?"
She looked up at him curiously. "I know you, Dodge. You're your own person. Independent and restless. You're not going to fall for anyone."
"I'm not like that anymore. I've changed."
"Changed? How?"
"You'll see." He gave her a smug look and ushered her through the airport and into his waiting car.
She slid into the new-smelling leather interior of a blue sedan. "Very nice. Is it new?"
He nodded proudly. "Traded the Blazer for it. I knew you'd like this better."
"But what do you use for going up into the mountains?"
"Don't do that anymore. Don't need to. Too busy doing other things."
"Oh." She fastened the seat belt. "Busy doing what?"
While he drove through town, Dodge explained about his job and all that had kept him busy during the past weeks. "I'm the assistant geology professor in charge of Mineral Deposits on the Western Slopes, and that title puts me in line for tenure. Plus I've published a position paper on gold deposits in the Dragoons. That gave me instant peer recognition and influence with the administration."
She listened, wondering if this was the same Dodge Callahan she'd left in Tombstone. "Do you mean you haven't been to Lovelock or Rebel Creek or Midas?"
He breathed through his teeth. "Why would I want to go to those places?"
"Gold, of course." She gazed at him with clear blue eyes. "I'd hoped you could show me some of your favorite haunts around here. I brought my softest jeans and my mountain boots."
He pursed his lips. "I—uh—don't have any favorite places to look for gold because I don't do that anymore, Tory."
"Hmm, funny. I thought you'd never quit. Sharkey didn't."
"Well, I'm not Sharkey."
"No, but you're a lot like him."
"I don't think so."
Oh, yes, you are, Dodge Callahan, she thought with a smug smile. She leaned back on the seat and tried to relax. They drove along in relative silence, exchanging bits of information about the weather and saying life in general was "just fine." Both of them were lying, and strangely enough, both sensed it. But neither commented on it.
Dodge's house was on a hill with a curving driveway. When they halted in front, Tory gaped in awe. "A house? I thought you'd have an apartment." The place was lovely.
"How do you like it?"
"Beautiful, of course! Are you renting?"
"No, it's mine. Bought it last month. I thought you'd like it."
"This is what you did with your share of the gold
? You didn't buy a new four-by-four or a cruise around the world?"
"Naw. Don't need them." His brown eyes were alight with a special glow. "Come on, I want you to see the living room."
"What's in the living room?" She grabbed her purse and small overnighter and followed him up the stairs. The multilevel house was built into the hillside and sported blue shutters on the front windows. Tory wondered if it had a neat little picket fence, too.
Dodge dropped her bags in the foyer and led her into the sunken living room. She gazed in awe at the stone fireplace that covered one end of the room and the potted fir tree in the other. "How interesting," she commented with a curious glance at him. "It's like having your own Christmas tree growing right in the house."
"I thought you'd like it." He beamed proudly. "Want to see the pool? How about a drink first? Perrier, isn't it? I went all the way to France for you."
She grinned at his teasing and followed him into the spacious kitchen. "Sounds great. Oh my God, this kitchen is gorgeous."
"Every modern convenience," he said.
"Granite countertops." She spread her hands on the cool stone while he poured her sparkling water, and popped a beer for himself. "Thanks."
"My pleasure. Want to continue the tour on the patio?"
They stepped out onto the brick patio that surrounded the blue-tiled pool. She walked around a little, admiring everything. Finally, she turned to face him. Was this the same Dodge with whom she'd fallen in love? Maybe she didn't remember him right. Maybe she never knew him at all. She took a deep breath and felt the uneasiness in the air.
"Well, you've certainly been busy, Dodge. Going after tenure, writing articles, getting them published, buying a house . . . sounds like a lot of changes. For you."
"Yep. Changes for the better, I hope." He propped a booted foot up on a brick step. "It feels good to put down roots. I'm steadier now and—"
"Boring?"
He chuckled uneasily. "Well, maybe. Certainly more secure. And that's important. Isn't it important to you, Tory?"
Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3) Page 19
