by Loree Lough
It was a moment before she answered, “Sure. I guess so.”
“Sure,” a fellow could be neighborly, or “sure,” she’d share the steaks with him? “Can I take that as a ‘yes’?”
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Why not?”
Chuckling, he said, “Try to curb your enthusiasm.”
“Can’t a gal be blunt without people getting overly sensitive?”
My, but he liked the sound of her laughter! But why stop there? He liked everything about Nadine, from her sunny blond hair right to the cherry-red toenails poking out from her terrycloth slippers.
Lamont stared at the floorboards beneath his boots, trying to make sense of everything that was going on in his head and his heart. He’d escorted a couple dozen good-looking women to the movies, dinner and concerts, and never once felt the way he did drinking tea with Nadine.
“I’m probably wasting my breath,” he said, “pointing out that I’m not one to mince words.”
“I’ve been in the crowd at enough cattle auctions to know that’s the truth!” she said, grinning.
Lamont didn’t have a clue what she meant. But that was no surprise, because what he knew about women, he could put in one eye.
She reached over the table between them and gently squeezed his forearm. “And I like you, too. You’ve always been a good neighbor, and I count myself lucky to call you a ‘friend,’ too.”
“I like you, Nadine.”
Friend? The term made him sound like a wet-behind-the-ears schoolboy, because he wanted this—whatever this was between them—to be so much more. And doggone it, he didn’t cotton to feeling this way, not one little bit! He’d sustained broken bones taming wild stallions, and the ice-white scars on his forearms were reminders of his run-ins with barbed wire. The whole idea behind dating vain, empty-headed beauties was to ensure he’d never be tempted to marry one of them. But this thing with Nadine?
Show me a sign, Lord. Show me a sign!
The wind kicked up, thunder echoed in the distance and a bolt of lightning sliced the black sky. Coincidence? Or had God decided that it took the power of nature to get the message through his thick skull?
He didn’t have time to come up with an answer because, quick as the blink of an eye, the skies opened up. Lamont could barely see his truck through the teeming rain.
“Oh, my,” she said, standing to gather their cups, “you’d better make tracks, cowboy. You know what that road is like in a storm…”
Yeah, he knew. The hard-packed runoff would turn the blacktop into a swift-moving river of muddy water. But his place was just over the next rise. If he floored the pickup, he could make it home in ten minutes flat. Plenty of time to spend with Nadine—
Thunder boomed directly overhead and lightning exploded, brightening her yard.
Okay, Lord, I can take a hint…
“Guess I’d better make a run for it,” he said, jamming the Stetson onto his head. “Thanks for the tea.”
And as he hotfooted it toward his truck, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was running from the storm flashing all around him…
…or the one roiling in his heart.
Chapter Three
Nadine tossed and turned for hours, alternately staring at the ceiling and punching her pillows. Flipping the covers aside, she stepped into her bedroom slippers and headed downstairs, belting a light terry robe on the way. No need for lights for, even in the dead of night she could navigate these rooms with her eyes closed. No surprise there, with all the practice she’d gotten while Ernest was alive. How many times, she wondered, filling the teapot with water, had she paced the floors, trembling with fear and rage and bitterness as she waited for the throbbing aches and pains of yet another beating to ease?
“Too many to count,” she whispered, staring at the blue flame that she turned on under the kettle. She’d worked hard to keep the cuts and bruises camouflaged, a job made easier because Ernest had always been careful to leave evidence of his brutality in places that could be covered. If she didn’t know better, she would have said he took those lessons from her own father.
When had the switch flipped, she wondered, turning Ernest from the loving young man who vowed to protect his sweetheart from her father’s manhandling, to the mean-spirited husband who made her pa seem gentle as a kitten? A jagged scar on her forearm, the remnant of a long-ago beating, caught her eye. Instinct made her tug at the sleeve of her robe to hide it.
Old habits die hard, she glumly thought. If Nadine had a dollar for every time someone asked why she’d worn trousers and long-sleeved shirts in the dead of summer, maybe she could pay one of the steadily mounting bills that lay in a tidy stack on her desk.
These past three years had been tougher than any in memory. The run of bad fortune began when her stud bull broke free of his pen and wandered into the path of a speeding eighteen-wheeler. Two calves born that spring had been too weak to survive. The following fall, weevils had attacked her fields, destroying the harvest that would have fed the livestock. Then, three years of oppressive, unrelenting drought.
Somehow, Nadine managed to hang on through the first two years, even as other ranchers filed for bankruptcy. But this year? This year, her grip was slipping with each passing day.
She carried her tea outside and stood on the porch. The crisp scent of rain made her heart ache with dreary acceptance, because the steady downfall that now pounded the hard-packed earth had come weeks too late to save this year’s crops.
Lamont’s spread, by contrast, seemed untouched by nature’s cruel hand. But then, he’d had the financial resources to dig deep wells that helped irrigate his fields. If one of his bulls died? Well, he had dozens of others grazing in white-fenced green pastures. Neighbors envied Lamont’s knack for turning profits into wise investments. Some went as far as to ask his advice about where to put their money, when there was money left after filling their creditors’ pockets. Nadine respected and admired Lamont’s talents but, God help her, she envied them, too.
And envy was wrong. Spiteful and sinful. “A sound heart is the life of the flesh,” she quoted Proverbs, “but envy the rottenness of the bones.”
Shivering, she tilted her face toward the Heavens. “Lord, a little more backbone might be useful right about now.”
Backbone. Lamont had it in abundance. Truth be told, it was his grit and his guts that she envied more than anything else.
Bowing her head, she hugged the thick ceramic mug to her chest. As the steaming brew warmed her face, she took a deep breath, pictured him sitting at her kitchen table, looking as though he belonged, stirring sugar into his cup with a spoon that, in his powerful, callused hand, looked like one from Amy’s tea set.
Just thinking about him made her pulse race.
And she didn’t welcome the reaction, either. Several times tonight, she would have sworn he aimed to kiss her, and the thought made her scramble for legitimate excuses to keep plenty of space between them, physically and emotionally.
She’d seen Lamont lose his temper—during cattle auctions, in the feed and grain, at the hardware store. Ernest personified the “street angel, house devil” rule; if Lamont behaved that way when people were around, how much more aggressive might he be one-on-one?
She couldn’t afford to find out.
Nadine leaned against a porch support post as a mist of rain bounced up from the flagstone steps and onto her slippered feet. She barely felt it, though, as she thought of Rose. In all the years Nadine had known her, Lamont’s wife hadn’t given so much as a hint of being abused. But then, it wasn’t likely Rose would have guessed what often went on inside Nadine’s house, either.
Could she be wrong about Lamont? Did he fit the “His bark is worse than his bite” adage?
Not that it made a bit of difference. Nadine didn’t trust herself to make smart decisions where men were concerned, so except for the few who worked for her at Greeneland Ranch, she’d avoided them altogether. And despite hard times, she’d held o
n as well as any male rancher she could name.
Shoulders sagging, she went back inside, bolted the door behind her and resigned herself to spending a few hours with the Good Book. God’s word had helped her keep “white knight” dreams at bay in the past. By morning, any romantic notions about Lamont would be a distant memory, and she’d go back to accepting her lot in life.
But she didn’t have to like it.
Bright and early the next morning, it was still raining when Adam padded into the kitchen, looking rumpled and frazzled as the weather outside. “Look at this mess,” he said, stacking coloring books and construction paper on the table. He flopped onto a straight-backed chair as she closed her crossword puzzle book. “You can’t even get a minute’s peace and privacy since we invaded your house.”
“You know I love having you…”
“It’s only temporary,” Adam said, “until Julie and I get this mess straightened out.”
How many times had he said that since they’d moved in, weeks ago? Lord, she prayed, help me find words to comfort him. “I feel terrible admitting it,” she said, sitting beside him. “But your cloud has been my silver lining. I haven’t been this contented since before you and Julie got married and you left me all alone.”
Adam chuckled at her deliberately exaggerated misery. “You’re the best, Mom.”
She’d been listening to her boy’s laughter all his twenty-six years and knew when it was sincere and when it wasn’t. Her heart ached for her only child. Maternal love hadn’t protected him from measles or chicken pox; hadn’t saved him from skinned knees, sprains and fractures; hadn’t spared him the anguish of a breakup once he reached dating age. She couldn’t protect him from this, either, but she aimed to try.
“Maybe while we’re here,” he said, “Julie will learn a thing or two from you about how to be a good wife and mother.”
“Thank goodness I sent her to the cellar to sort laundry, because if she heard a thing like that, she’d be crushed. I’ll admit she did some pretty ridiculous things, but you know in your heart she didn’t do them on purpose. Why, the way that poor girl was raised, it’s a wonder—”
“I’m tired of letting her off the hook because of her background.”
She pressed a palm to each of his cheeks. “Julie is your wife, Adam, and the mother of your child. That money she lost is gone, but you can earn more. If you drive her away, well, you can’t be sure you’ll get her back. It’s as plain as the nose on your face that she’s trying. Give her credit for that, at least.”
His expression reminded her of days long gone, when a shrug and a half smile were precursors to a bored “I guess you’re right.” This time, he got up and grabbed the lunch bucket he’d been carrying since he started that stock-boy job at Lotsmart.
He was halfway out the door when she said, “Will you do me a favor today?”
“Sure.”
“Pray about what I said?”
“Guess it can’t hurt,” he said, his voice glum. “At least that won’t cost me anything.”
Every chance she got that day, she prayed, too. Nadine thanked God that neither the landlord nor the manager of the car dealership had decided to press charges against Julie, and for providing Adam with a job that helped put food on the table and keep the lights turned on. She asked Him to soften her son’s heart toward his young, confused wife, and begged him to supply every dime required to keep the bank from foreclosing on her ranch. He’d seen her through bad times before, and He’d see her through this one, too. Nadine believed that. She had to believe it!
The jangling phone startled her, and she silenced it with a surly, “Hello…”
“Ah, a voice for sore ears…”
Was Lamont’s voice really all it took to sweeten her sour mood?
“What time should I put the steaks on?”
Nadine had tossed and turned for hours, and by morning, convinced herself that she’d misread his signals. Why would a handsome, powerful widower be interested in a nearly broke grandmother whose kids had come home, adding to her wagonload of emotional and financial baggage? She came up with just one reason: He was the hero-to-the-rescue type and saw her as someone in need of rescuing. And when he tired of trying to fix what was wrong with her life, he’d move on to the next single gal waiting in the Available Bachelor line. By then, she’d be head over heels and it would hurt like crazy to send him packing. Far better to do it now, when all she felt for him was a tiny, schoolgirl crush. “How rude of me to wait until the last minute,” Nadine began, “but—”
She heard his gruff sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re not coming to dinner…”
“Sorry, but I can’t.” Didn’t dare was more like it, but she decided to keep that to herself.
The pause was so long and complete that, for a moment, she thought they’d been disconnected. Then Lamont said, “Is everything okay?”
Pursing her lips, she resisted the urge to say, “Jim hasn’t killed any flies lately…that I know of.” Stop being such a pessimist, she scolded herself. He’s only asking out of friendly concern for you. “Yes, everything is fine.”
“Guess you’re just busy, eh, what with the kids home again and all. Well, here’s an idea. How about if I bring the steaks over there? I have more than enough for—”
“No.” If she sounded abrupt and cold to herself, how must she have sounded to Lamont? But it wasn’t fair to punish him for the mess her life was in. Wasn’t fair to assume that he was like Ernest, just because he’d shown signs of having a fierce temper. “It’s just—I have a lot to do,” she added, taking care to soften her tone. “Beds to make and—”
“No need to get all defensive with me, Nadine. I understand.”
But his tone told her just the opposite.
“We’ll do it another time,” he added.
Was he waiting for her to agree, perhaps even suggest a day and time? Had she read him right, after all? The very thought filled her with fear and dread, because even if she hadn’t made that ludicrous promise to herself, Ernest was the only man she’d ever dated. Besides, no way she could even begin to compete with the bevy of beauties who surrounded Lamont everywhere he went. “I—I’d better go,” she said. “Julie volunteered to make supper, using an old recipe she found in one of my cookbooks. I promised to make her a list of the ingredients and—”
“Well,” he interrupted, “better get a-move on, myself. But don’t worry your pretty head about these thick juicy steaks going to waste. And don’t give a thought to li’l ol’ me, grilling and eating them all by my lonesome.”
His good-natured teasing wafted into her ear, and she laughed softly. “When I say my devotions later, I’ll be sure to thank God.”
“For what?”
“For making you so big and strong and brave.” Instantly, she regretted the coy comeback.
“Not so big and brave that I don’t feel like a weak knobby-kneed young’un, missin’ the daylights outta his best girl.”
Nadine’s heart ached. Because “what she wanted” and “the right thing to do” were miles apart. “I’m sorry if you went to any trouble with—”
“Hey, you’re no trouble, kiddo. No trouble at all.” He paused. “But even if you were? Trust me, you’d be worth it.”
Hang up, Nadine! Just hang up before you run over there and throw yourself into his arms! “Well,” she muttered, “g’bye, then.”
“See you soon, I hope,” he said, and hung up.
And if Julie and Amy hadn’t burst into the kitchen just then, she probably would have sat right down on the floor and cried like a brokenhearted little girl.
Because that’s exactly how she felt.
Hours later, Lamont was still pacing his big country kitchen, head down and hands in his pockets.
Just last night, Nadine had seemed reasonably excited about his dinner invitation. What had changed between then and now? Had he violated some unwritten rule? Did she expect him to call sooner? More than once? “Women,” he muttered, shaking
his head. “The man who can figure ’em out will be a multitrillionaire for sure.”
He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge, pocketing the screw top as he strode into the family room. Settled in his recliner, Lamont picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV. The chair’s well-worn brown leather squeaked in protest as he shifted his six-foot frame. Not even his favorite chair felt comfortable tonight.
Lamont pictured her as she’d looked last night, face aglow in the moonlight and blushing like a teenager as she reminded him that they both had to get up early.
“Doesn’t take a brick to fall on my head,” he’d joked. “I can take a hint.”
“No,” she’d said, giggling, “you can’t. I’ve been dropping hints for the past hour!” Then, as if worried that she might have embarrassed him, Nadine said, “Drive safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Well, it was tomorrow, and he didn’t mind admitting to himself what a letdown it had been when she’d canceled on him.
Obnoxious padded into the room, rested his chin on Lamont’s knees and whimpered. From the time he was a pup, the mutt had been attuned to his master’s moods. “Don’t worry, boy,” Lamont said, ruffling his fur, “your old man is fine, just fine.” He got to his feet. “How ’bout we fire up the grill? Who needs a woman around, changing her mind? Besides, we can’t let perfectly good beef go to waste, can we?”
Obnoxious’s ears perked up, and he answered with a breathy bark.
As Lamont flipped the steaks over the open fire, the dog sat watching, waiting patiently, grinning doggy-style. “Wonder if you’d be smilin’ if you knew you were second choice as my dinner companion,” Lamont said, cutting one steak into bite-sized cubes.
Obnoxious tilted his head, fuzzy brows rising as if he’d understood.
