Rumor Has It

by Maureen Child

  A few loud voices were heard.

  The gavel slammed down again sharply. Gil nodded at the group and smiled. “Motion’s passed. A child-care center will be added to the Texas Cattlemen’s Club.”

  Beau and a few of the other members, still bristling over the fact that women were now included in their group, were practically apoplectic. But, there was nothing they could do about it.

  As Beau stormed out of the meeting, Nathan watched him go and almost felt a flicker of sympathy. He could see the other side of the situation, but you couldn’t stay locked in the past. The world moved every damn day and you moved with it or you got steamrolled. Tradition was one thing, being stuck in the mud was another.

  Change happened whether you liked it or not, so the best way to handle it was to hop on board the train as opposed to stretching your body across the tracks and being run over. Which was, he told himself, a good way to think about how to deal with Amanda.

  “This is great,” Abigail Price said with a wide smile for her friends and those who had supported them. “And our Julia will be the first child enrolled as soon as we’re up and running.”

  “You bet she will, honey.” Brad Price gave his wife’s hand a squeeze. “Shame Beau and the rest are upset, but they’ll get over it.”

  “You did,” Abigail reminded him with a smile.

  True enough, Nate mused thoughtfully. Not too long ago, Brad and Abby were butting heads every chance they got. He’d done his best to keep Abby out of the TCC and now just look at them—in love, married, and with a great little girl.

  While everyone around them talked, Alex suggested, “Why don’t we head over to the diner and get some coffee and pie?”

  “Good idea,” Chance agreed and flicked a glance at Nathan.

  Friends could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, Nathan told himself. These two were trying to maneuver him into a meeting with Amanda and it just wasn’t going to work. He’d see her. In his own time. In his own way. And damned if he was going to put on a show for the folks in Royal.

  “No thanks,” he said, pushing up from the table. He didn’t even look at the other members in the room. “I’m headed back to the office to finish up some paperwork, then I’m going home.”

  “Still in hiding?” Alex murmured.

  Nathan bristled. “Pretty hard to hide in a town the size of Royal.”

  “You should keep that in mind,” Chance told him.

  Irritated, Nathan just gritted his teeth and left. No point in arguing with a jackass, he thought.

  * * *

  Amanda was so busy she almost didn’t have time to worry about Nathan.

  Almost.

  Turns out, even running the family diner, looking for a new house and arranging to have the transmission in her car replaced still left her brain enough room to plague her with thoughts of Nathan Battle.

  “Bound to happen,” she reassured herself for the fortieth time that morning. Just being in Royal had brought the memories rushing back and, there were a lot of memories.

  She’d known Nathan most of her life and had been nuts about him since she was thirteen. She could still remember the sharp, bright thrill of having Nathan, then an all-powerful senior, taking a lowly freshman to the senior prom.

  “And, if we’d just stopped it right there, it would be all sunshine and roses,” she murmured as she refilled the coffee urn with water, then measured in fresh coffee grounds.

  She pushed the button to start the brewing process, then turned to look out at the diner. Even with the changes she’d made in the last couple of weeks, being in this place was as good as being home.

  She’d grown up in her parents’ diner, working as a busgirl, and then a waitress when she was old enough. The Royal Diner was an institution in town and she was determined that it stay that way. Which was why she’d come home after her father’s death to help her older sister, Pam, run the place.

  As that reminder rolled through her mind, Amanda squared her shoulders and nodded briefly to herself. She hadn’t come home because of Nathan Battle. Even though a shiver swept through her at just the thought of his name, she discounted it as sense memory. Didn’t mean a thing. Her life was different now.

  She was different now.

  “Amanda, my love, when’re you going to marry me and run off to Jamaica?”

  Startled out of her thoughts, Amanda smiled at the familiar voice and turned to look at Hank Bristow. At eighty, Hank was tall and thin and his skin was craggy from a lifetime spent in the sun. Now that his sons ran the family ranch, Hank spent most of his time in the diner, talking with his friends. His blue eyes twinkled as he held out his cup for a refill.

  “Hank, you just love me for my coffee,” she told him, pouring a stream of the hot, fresh brew into his cup.

  “A woman who can make good coffee?” Hank shook his head and said solemnly, “Worth her weight in gold.”

  She smiled, patted his hand, then carried the carafe along the length of the counter, chatting with her customers, freshening coffee as she went. It was all so familiar. So…easy. She’d slid into life in Royal as smoothly as if she’d never left.

  “Why did you order new menus?”

  Okay, not completely smoothly. Amanda turned to face Pam. As usual, the shorter woman didn’t look happy with her. But then, the two of them had never been close. Not growing up. Not now. Even though Amanda had primarily come back to Royal because Pam had needed help running the diner. But, she supposed, needing help and wanting it were two different things.

  Amanda walked the length of the counter again, and set the coffeepot down on the warmer before she answered.

  “Because the old ones needed to be replaced,” she said. “The laminate was cracked and old and the menus themselves were outdated.” Catching the look of interest on Hank’s face, Amanda lowered her voice. “We don’t even serve half the things listed anymore, Pam.”

  Her sister’s chin-length brown hair was tucked behind her ears. She wore a red T-shirt and jeans and a pair of scarlet sandals wrapped around her feet. She was tapping the toe of one sandal against the shining linoleum floor. “But our regular customers know that. They don’t need fancy new menus, Amanda.”

  She sighed, but stood her ground. “They’re not fancy, Pam. They’re just not ratty.”

  Pam hissed in a breath.

  “Okay, sorry.” Amanda dug deep for patience and said, “We’re in this together, right? You said you needed help and I came home. The Altman sisters running the diner. Together.”

  Pam thought about that for a long second before finally shrugging. “As long as you remember I didn’t ask you to come in and take over.”

  “I’m not taking over, Pam. I’m trying to help.”

  “By changing everything?” Pam’s voice spiked, then she seemed to realize that everyone in the place was no doubt listening because she spoke more softly when she continued. “There’s such a thing as tradition around here, you know. Or did you forget, living off in Dallas for so long?”

  A small twinge of guilt nibbled at her insides. Amanda hadn’t been around much the last few years, it was true. And she should have been. She knew that, too. It had been just Amanda, Pam and their father, since her mother had died years before and the three of them had sort of drifted apart. For the rest of her life, she knew she’d regret not spending more time with her dad when she had the chance.

  But she had grown up in the diner just as Pam had. Changing things wasn’t easy for her, either. A part of her hated getting rid of things that her father had put in place. But times changed whether you wanted them to or not.

  “Dad told us himself that when he took over the diner from his father, he made lots of changes,” she argued, defending the new, still red—but unscarred red—counter and tables.

  Pam scowled at her. “Th
at’s not the point.”

  Amanda took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee, eggs and bacon. “Then what is the point, Pam? You asked me to come home and help, remember?”

  “Help, not take over.”

  Okay, maybe she had been a little quick with changes. Maybe she hadn’t taken the time to include her sister in decisions being made. That was her fault and she was willing to take the blame for it. In her defense, Pam had made herself scarce since Amanda got back to town. But, if she mentioned that, it would only start a new argument, so she let it go.

  “You’re right,” Amanda said and watched surprise flicker in her sister’s eyes. “I should have talked to you about the menus. About the countertops and tables and I didn’t. I just…” She paused to look around the diner before adding, “I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d missed this place. And when I got home, I just dove right in.”

  “I can’t believe you missed the diner,” Pam muttered.

  Amanda laughed. “I know. Me, neither. You and I spent so much time working here as kids, who knew that I’d look forward to working here again?”

  Pam sighed and leaned against the counter. She shot a frown at Hank, who was still listening in. The old man rolled his eyes and looked away.

  “It’s good you’re here,” Pam finally said. “And between the two of us, we should be able to both run the diner and have lives.”

  “We will,” Amanda said, smiling a little at the tiny bridge suddenly springing up between the sisters.

  “But it is the two of us, Amanda,” Pam told her firmly. “You don’t get to make all the decisions and then let me find out later when the new menus arrive.”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “You’re right. I should have talked to you and I will from now on.”

  “Good.” Pam nodded. “That’s good. Now, I’m heading out. I’ve got a line on a new supplier of organic vegetables and—”

  Amanda smiled and let her mind wander while her sister rattled off information on local farmers. Her gaze slid across the familiar faces filling the diner, then drifted out to the street beyond the wide glass windows. Main Street in Royal. Sidewalks crowded with early shoppers. Cars parked haphazardly along the curb. The sheriff stepping off the sidewalk, headed for the diner.

  Sheriff. Headed for the diner.

  Amanda’s heart jumped in her chest. Her mouth went dry and her gaze locked on the one man in the world she couldn’t seem to forget.

  * * *

  Nathan knew it was past time to face Amanda.

  He left the sheriff’s office with his deputy, Red Hawkins, in charge and stepped out onto Main Street. The morning was clear and promised another red-hot day. Summer in Texas was already off to a blistering start. The sun was a ball of fire looking to combust.

  God, he loved it.

  Walking down the sidewalk, his boots clattering out a sharp rhythm, Nathan nodded at those he passed and paused to hold a door for Macy Harris as she struggled to carry a baby and cling to her toddler’s hand.

  This was his place. Where he belonged. He’d actually had to leave and spend a few years in Houston as a city cop to figure that out. But now that he was back, Nathan knew he’d never leave Royal again. He’d found his place and damned if he was going to let Amanda Altman make him uncomfortable in it.

  He loped across the street, dodging the occasional car, and headed straight for the Royal Diner.

  The place was a landmark in town. He could remember going there as a kid with his folks and then later, as a teenager, he’d gathered there with his friends after football games and on long, boring summer afternoons.

  It was the unofficial heart of town, which meant that at any time during the day, there would be a crowd inside. A crowd that would watch his and Amanda’s first meeting with interest.

  “Well, hell,” he muttered as he marched up to the glass door. “Might as well get it done and let the gossips loose.”

  He pulled the door open, stepped inside and stopped, letting his gaze slide over the familiar surroundings. Mostly familiar, he corrected silently.

  The walls had been painted. No longer a bright white that seemed to sear your eyes on a hot summer day, the walls were now a soft green, dotted with framed photos of Royal through the years. The counter had been changed, too—the old chipped and scarred red was now a shining sweep of a deeper, richer red. The black-and-white checked floors had been polished and the red vinyl booth seats had all been revamped. There were new chairs pulled up to the scatter of tables and sunshine streamed through the windows lining Main Street.

  But none of it really mattered to him.

  How could it?

  He was too focused on the woman standing behind that new counter, staring at him.

  Amanda Altman.

  Damn. She looked way too good.

  Nathan took a breath, forcing air into lungs suddenly starving for sustenance. He hadn’t really expected to feel the rush of heat swamping him. He’d convinced himself he was over her. Had forgotten what it had been like to be with her.

  Big mistake.

  “Hello, Nathan.”

  “Amanda,” he said and ignored the swell of whispers sliding around the room as if carried along by a west Texas wind.

  She moved toward the end of the counter, positioning herself behind the cash register. Defensive move?

  Oddly enough, that eased him some. Knowing she was no happier about this public meeting than he was took some of the pressure off. In fact, he thought, it sort of tossed the power back into his lap.

  She was new here. Okay, yeah, she’d grown up in Royal, just as he had. But Nathan had been here for the last three years and she’d been back in town only a couple of weeks. He’d made his place here and she was still treading water.

  With that thought firmly in mind, he walked toward her and noted her chin came up defiantly. Damned if he hadn’t missed that stubborn move of hers.

  “Morning, Nathan,” Pam chirped loudly. “We’ve missed you in here lately.”

  “Been busy,” he said and ignored Hank Bristow’s snort of derision.

  “You want your usual?”

  “That’d be good, Pam, thanks,” he said, his gaze never leaving Amanda’s.

  She looked the same and yet…different. Maybe it was just that she was older now. Maybe it was the fact that her eyes weren’t shining with adoration when she looked up at him. Didn’t matter, he assured himself. Amanda was his past, in spite of his body’s reaction to her.

  “So,” he said, knowing everyone in the diner was holding their breath, waiting to hear what might happen next, “you back to stay or this just a visit?”

  Pam walked up to him then and handed him a to-go cup filled with black coffee. He didn’t even glance at her as he took it and reached into his pocket for cash.

  “On the house,” Amanda told him.

  “Not necessary,” Nathan said and laid a couple of dollars on the counter. “You didn’t answer the question, Amanda. You here to stay or just blowin’ through?”

  “I’m home to stay, Nathan,” Amanda said. “I hope that won’t be a problem for you.”

  He laughed shortly, and took a sip of coffee. Deliberately then, he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Why would that be a problem for me, Amanda? You and I are long since done.”

  He could almost see every customer in the place perking up their ears and leaning in closer so as not to miss a single word.

  “You’re right,” Amanda said, lifting her chin even higher. “We’re not kids anymore. There’s no reason why we can’t be friendly.”

  Friendly? His entire body was jittering with heat and she thought they could be friends? Not a chance. But he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

  “None at all,” Nathan agreed tig
htly.

  “Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” she said.

  “Me, too.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Hank muttered with a snort. “We can all see that this has worked out fine.”

  “Butt out, Hank,” Nathan told him and turned for the door.

  “Walk me to my car, Nathan?” Pam blurted and had him stopping for one last look behind him. But instead of seeing the woman headed toward him, his gaze darted straight to Amanda and he felt a surge of heat zap him.

  The past might be dead and gone, but whatever hummed between them had just enough life left in it to be annoying.

  When Pam threaded her arm through his, Nathan led her out and didn’t bother looking back again.

  Two

  “That went well,” Amanda told herself as she entered the tiny apartment over the diner that was now home.

  All day, she’d been thinking about that brief, all-too-public meeting with Nathan. Which was, she thought grimly, probably exactly what he’d been hoping for. Nathan had always been the kind of man to assume command of any given situation. He was the take-charge type and so it was like him to make sure their first meeting was just the way he wanted it. That’s why he’d come into the diner during the morning bustle—so that there would be so many witnesses to their conversation, neither one of them could really talk.

  Honestly, the man hadn’t changed a bit. Still stiff-necked and hardheaded. She’d seen that familiar, stony glint in his eye that morning and known the minute he opened his mouth that nothing between them would be settled. But then, she thought, why would it be?

  She dropped onto an overstuffed, floral sofa that was older than she was, and propped her feet on the narrow coffee table in front of her. The romance novel she was currently reading lay beside an old ceramic pitcher filled with daisies and bluebells. Their scent was a soft sigh of summer in the too-warm room and, not for the first time, Amanda wished the apartment boasted more than a thirty-year-old air conditioner with a habit of shutting down every now and then for no particular reason.

  The sofa held bright, boldly colored accent pillows and the two chairs in the room were more comfortable to look at than they were for sitting. There were pictures on the walls, a few throw rugs across the scarred wooden floor and the walls were still the dusty sand color Amanda’s mother had preferred.