by Grace, Carol
“You’ll do fine without me. All you really need me for is to help you win the election. Once I’ve done that, my work is routine. Filling out forms, processing transfers of prisoners, sending messages to the county. Anyone can do it. I can train them in half a day.”
He glanced at her skeptically, his eyes lingering on the curve of her cheek, on her lips. Funny how he’d never noticed before how soft they looked. How kissable. Funny how he’d never wondered how she’d taste. Or how she’d feel if he put his arms around her, hauled her up against him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Until now.
He dragged his gaze away before she heard his heart pounding or guessed what was in his mind, and stared at the ribbon of highway ahead. He searched his brain for something to say. Something that had nothing to do with her leaving him.
“So the Gentrys are old friends of yours,” he said at last.
“Josh, his wife Molly and I were in the same class at Harmony High, along with Tally and her husband Jed”
“Then who’s Bridget?”
“Josh’s second wife. Molly died a few years ago and Josh buried himself with work on the ranch. For years we never saw him, not even at our high school reunion. He spent his time raising their son Max and training wild mustangs. Then Bridget arrived on the scene from San Francisco. She’s terrific really. Tally and I knew right away she was right for Josh. It took some doing though. I had a party at my house and we threw them together. Literally. We had a touch football game...and the rest is history.” She smiled
Brady shook his head. “Matchmaking women. How come nobody’s matched you with anyone?”
Her smile faded. “Tally tried. Just the other night. I guess I’m just too picky. Or not picky enough. Anyway, once I get to the diner I’ll come in contact with lots of men. If I can’t find someone there, I’m going to throw in the towel and resign myself to growing old alone. I’ll still have Travis.” She glanced over her shoulder at her son who’d drifted off to sleep in his car seat.
“And all those grandchildren,” he reminded her.
“That’s right.” Suzy glanced at Brady, at his rugged profile, his stubborn chin, and realized that though he would never admit it, he too needed someone in his life. Why else did he let it slip that he liked company with his soup? He’d also never admit that he’d enjoy being a father, but she’d seen him with Travis and she knew he was a natural.
Travis knew it, too. She could tell by the way his face lit up when he saw Brady. What a shame his marriage hadn’t worked out. She couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t his fault. It must have been his job, his life-style or a wife who didn’t understand him. Or all three. If he’d come to Harmony sooner, would he still be married with kids of his own?
“What is it?” he asked, aware of her gaze.
She looked away, feeling a flush creep up her face. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”
“About your grandchildren?”
“No, about yours.”
“The ones I’m never going to have.”
“It’s a shame. You’d be good at it.”
“At being a grandfather? Hah!” .
“I mean it. Turn here,” she instructed, and they drove past the sign with the outline of a bucking wild horse and onto the Gentry ranch. When they’d parked in front of the house, Suzy lifted a sleepy Travis out of his car seat and into his backpack. As she was about to swing the pack with Travis tucked comfortably in it up and onto her shoulders, Brady took him out of her arms.
“Let me,” he said. To her surprise Travis beamed his approval of this plan. For the past few months he’d cried every time she’d left him off at her mother’s, wouldn’t go to anyone or let anyone else hold him. And now there was Brady. What happened that night of baby-sitting that caused Travis to bond with Brady? A nagging thought occurred to her after she’d hugged Bridget and introduced her to Brady—that she really didn’t want Travis to bond with anybody who wasn’t going to be around forever.
“Bridget,” she said, as Brady took the lead and strode on ahead of them. “I really appreciate your doing this for Brady’s campaign.”
“It’s an excuse for us to have a party. And to help the best man win. Honestly that Staples gives me the creeps. He’s just too perfect.”
“What have you heard? Do you think he has a chance?” Suzy asked.
“I guess he’s got a lot of money. I heard an ad he made on the radio this morning.”
“No. Don’t tell Brady. Or maybe you should. He has to know what he’s up against. You know he’s never had any opposition before,” Suzy said.
“He’s a great guy, from what everyone tells me,” Bridget said.
Suzy followed Brady with her gaze, noting his broad shoulders, his purposeful stride.
“Yes, he is,” she said. “And he deserves to win. He will win.” While she watched, he stopped at the corral to let Travis get a look at the horses up close. “I’m going to miss him.”
Bridget stopped to take a pebble out of her boot. “Miss him? Where are you going?”
“This may sound silly, but I’m going to find a husband, a father for Travis. You never knew his father, neither did Travis, but he wasn’t a father at all. I was too dumb to realize it. Swept away in a tide of passion.”
“That sounds romantic.”
“Romantic, yes, but totally wrong. Believe me, I won’t make that mistake again. This time I’m looking for someone sensible, ordinary and down to earth.”
“Good for you. But what about love, what about passion?”
“Love? Passion?” Suzy shook her head. “The only passion I need is in my Peach Passion tea. A long time ago, when I was young and foolish, I was looking for love. I thought I’d found it. You see where it got me. Now that I have Travis, I’ve got to think about him, what he needs.”
Travis, hearing his name mentioned, wiggled around in his backpack and grinned happily at Suzy as the two women approached the corral.
“He’s adorable,” Bridget said. “I’m sure you’re doing the right thing, only...” She dropped the subject and waved to Brady. “Let’s go into the barn,” she suggested, motioning for Brady and Suzy to follow her.
The three of them toured the airy, spacious barn, which smelled of fresh hay, and measured space for the dinner tables, the dance floor, talked about the menu, which fiddlers to hire and made a tentative guest list.
While they talked, Suzy realized that Travis needed to have his diaper changed. She lifted him out of the backpack, tossed the diaper bag over her shoulder and went into Bridget’s comfortable ranch house and into the bathroom at the end of the hall.
While she was gone, Josh came riding up on his newest wild mustang, leaped off and after stabling his horse, joined his wife and Brady just outside the barn.
“This really means a lot to me,” Brady said. “That you’re giving a party for me.”
“Not just for you. For the whole town. Because we know you’re the right man for the job. And we did it for Suzy, of course,” Josh said. “We’d never turn her down. No matter what she asked. She’s the greatest. We owe her one, don’t we sweetheart?” Josh asked Bridget, putting his arm around her shoulder.
Bridget nodded. “What would we have done without Suzy?” she asked her husband.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without her,” Brady confessed. “She’s quitting after the election.”
“Yes,” Bridget said. “She said something about finding a father for Travis. She’s so determined. I’m sure she’ll do just that.”
“So am I,” Brady said gloomily.
After a glass of iced tea on the Gentrys’ patio, a discussion of their son, Max’s, progress in first grade, and more plans for the barn dance, Suzy presented Bridget and Josh with Brady Wilson for Sheriff T-shirts. They seemed delighted, and before Brady and Suzy drove off for town once more, they promised to wear them everywhere. While Travis fell asleep once again in the back seat, Suzy leaned her head back and closed her eyes. After their
pleasant visit with Josh and Bridget, the plans for the fund-raiser firmly in place, Suzy relaxed and let the breeze ruffle her hair.
“Nice people,” Brady said.
“I thought you’d like them,” she said. And was interrupted by a message on Brady’s short-wave radio.
“Cows in the road, Sheriff. At Route 50 and Highway 70. Repeat, cattle blocking traffic.”
“You know whose cattle that is, don’t you?” Brady asked Suzy. “Damned gutless interloper. Can’t keep his fence repaired. How can he run for sheriff if he can’t control his cattle? Has no business owning a ranch. I’ll take you home, then I’ll go out there.”
“But it’s on your way back to town. We’ll go with you.”
Brady glanced into the back seat at the sleeping baby. “Okay.”
The scene was just as the voice on the radio described it, only worse. Cattle milling all over the intersection. Three or four cars backed up in each direction. Nervous cows mooing and twitching and flicking their tails. His cows. Darryl Staples’s cows, with the D and the S wound together in his own personal logo, branding every last one of the animals. And Darryl himself in a ten-gallon hat and a pair of spanking new designer jeans sitting on a prize gelding in the middle of the road with a lasso in one hand. Brady stopped his car and got out, wondering what the hell this cowboy was going to do with the lasso.
He glanced back at Suzy in the car and she was biting her lip trying not to laugh. If he wasn’t responsible for clearing up the mess, he might have found it funny, too. In fact, if he wasn’t the sheriff he’d be tempted to turn around and drive away and let old Darryl handle it. But he was the sheriff, at least for now.
“Hey, Darryl,” he called over the din of the cows. “Move these animals.”
Darryl held his palms up in a gesture of helplessness. Brady shook his head.
Then he got back in the car, picked up his car phone and called his deputies, five ranch hands who got paid a small monthly stipend for being on standby for just such emergencies as this. They came riding out on horseback—including Hal, his deputy chief—each from a slightly different direction, like something out of an old Western movie. After a brief conference with Brady, they herded every last one of those cattle back onto the Staples property. Before he left, Brady had words with Daayl, advising him that if his fence wasn’t repaired by that evening, he’d have to arrest him. Darryl’s face turned red. He turned and rode off, following his cows home.
“You almost got your wish,” Suzy said as he got back in the car and they sat waiting for the cattle to cross the road in front of them. “An excuse to lock up your rival. The law was on your side, you know. Blocking public access.”
“I know, but I couldn’t do it. Besides, we’d have to take him his food like the last time we had someone in jail. What a hassle that was. And I don’t think he’d go peacefully. Or stay there. He’d be out on bail and what good would it do?”
“It might show people he’s not fit to be sheriff.”
“I hope they’ll see that without my interference.”
“They will. I’m sure they will.”
As they drove back to town, they noticed two new Staples for Sheriff signs, billboard-size, along the highway. Staples, For a New Look in Government, they said. There he was, with his insipid smile and his wife and 2.3 children. How could Brady compete with that?
“How much do those billboards cost, anyway?” he asked Suzy.
“More than you can afford.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You don’t need billboards”
“That’s what you say.”
“That’s what I know.” She reached over and put her hand on his thigh. He knew her touch was meant to be warm and soft and reassuring, but instead it was teasing, tantalizing. His body reacted in an unmistakable way. He sucked in a quick breath.
“Don’t do that,” he said sharply. “Not on Main Street,” She removed her hand as if she’d burned it.
There was a long silence as the tension grew and became a barrier between them. She sat stiffly, wedged against the passenger door. He drove slowly down Main Street, afraid he’d hurt her feelings, more afraid she’d noticed the effect she had on him.
“Hey, how about stopping for dinner at the diner?” he suggested casually as if nothing had happened. “Monday night, pot roast. I owe you.”
“No, thanks.”
“Okay,” he said, as if it didn’t matter. But it did. He didn’t want to eat alone. Though he never ate alone in the diner. He always ran into somebody he knew. But somebody wasn’t Suzy. He wanted to eat with Suzy.
Maybe it was better this way. Better to get her out of his car, out of his after-work life before his libido started acting up again. He pulled up in front of her house and before he could move, she’d jumped out, lifted Travis out of the car seat and hurried up the front steps. He followed, carrying the car seat.
Her phone was ringing. She unlocked the door, and he dumped the car seat on the front porch, intending to leave immediately. But before he left he heard her say, “Hello, Allan,” and he froze. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Like hell he didn’t. He stood there, shamelessly listening.
“Dinner...tonight?” she said.
Before he heard her answer, before he lost his cool, walked in there, yanked the phone out of her hand and yelled “No,” into the receiver, he stomped back to his car, where he kicked the tire before he got in and went to the diner by himself.
Chapter Four
Suzy didn’t want to go anywhere. Not with Allan, not with anyone. Brady had never been the easiest person to get along with, but the way he’d reacted to her touch, to an innocent gesture, made her feel as if she had a contagious disease that he was afraid he’d catch. Then, as if he felt sorry for her, he’d asked her to dinner. Well, she didn’t intend to be a charity case. Not for him, not for anybody. Allan was still on the line. Waiting for her answer.
“Are you still there?” he asked.
“Still here,” she said. “But I’m afraid I can’t go. I can’t get a baby-sitter. Not on this short notice.”
“Bring him along,” Allan said.
Suzy hesitated for a moment. Only a man who loved children would say bring him along. So maybe Allan wasn’t the most exciting man in the world. She reminded herself she wasn’t looking for exciting. She was looking for reliable, trustworthy, dependable. Maybe she should give Allan another chance. With Travis. And with herself. She told him she could be ready in an hour.
It took her that long to take a shower, give Travis a bath, and find clean clothes for both of them. Allan was wearing chinos and a casual sweater tonight, looking more relaxed than the last time. Where did he live? What did he do? Had she been so uninterested she hadn’t even asked?
“Where are you from?” she asked after she’d buckled Travis into the back seat of Allan’s rented sport utility vehicle.
“I’m from L.A., but I live in Utah now,” he said. “Near Park City. Best skiing in the world. Do you ski?”
“No.”
“Lived in Harmony a long time?”
“All my life.”
“Nice little town,” he said, but she picked up a trace of condescension in his voice.
“Good place to raise kids,” she said.
He glanced at Travis in his rearview mirror. “I would have taken you to the Mirabeau,” he said referring to the only “fancy” restaurant in the area, three miles out of town on the highway. “But with your son, maybe we’d be better stick to the diner.”
Suzy’s heart stopped for a millisecond. “The diner?” she said. What if Brady was still there?
“Why not? It looks like a real authentic diner. Not one of those phony new ones that tries too hard and comes off looking...phony.”
“It’s authentic all right,” she murmured. “Especially if you like pot roast.”
“My personal favorite,” he assured her.
Suzy told herself Brady would be gone by now. And if he wasn’
t? She was under no obligation to accept the first dinner invitation that came her way. Especially since he was only trying to make up for treating her like a leper. So what if he saw her come in with Allan. He knew she was looking for a husband. He knew she couldn’t afford to turn anyone down.
Then why did her pulse race as they approached the diner? Why did her eyes scan the street for his car and her heart pound when Allan held the door open for her and Travis? As if she was guilty of some heinous crime.
Everything seemed to stop as she walked in. Dottie, the waitress, paused with a tray on her shoulder. Two ranchers at the cash register stopped talking. Even the old jukebox was suddenly silent. The man in the corner booth turned his head and their eyes met for long moment. Brady. She should have known. She should have known he’d stare at her the way he stared at guilty cattle rustlers. She raised her chin a notch and stared back. She wasn’t guilty of anything. His booth was crowded with his friends. He turned back to them and never looked over again. She might have been a gnat, for all he cared.
Allan, unused to authentic diner atmosphere, didn’t notice anything was amiss. He commandeered a table and Dottie brought Travis a high chair. Suzy buried her face behind the menu, studying it as if it was a guide to the meaning of life, as if she hadn’t memorized it in all these years.
Allan ordered a glass of wine. He tasted it and made a face. It was apparently not the right vintage. Then he ordered the pot roast and that’s when things really started to go downhill. They were out of pot roast.
“How can you be out of pot roast when it’s your special?” he asked Dottie petulantly.
“Sorry, hon,” she said, snapping her gum. “How about the veal chops?”
“I don’t eat veal,” he said.
“On account of your religion?” she asked.
“It has nothing to do with my religion,” he said. “I’ll have the tuna salad.”
“That’s on the lunch menu,” Dottie informed him.
Allan exhaled loudly and Travis wrinkled his face into a frown. Suzy unwrapped a package of crackers and handed him one. He threw it on the floor. Good-humoredly, Allan picked it up. Travis threw it down again. Allan picked it up, this time not so good-humoredly. The next time, Suzy picked it up and put it on the table out of the baby’s reach. Travis screamed. All heads turned in their direction, including Brady’s. Suzy gave Travis back his cracker and avoided Brady’s penetrating gaze. But Travis didn’t. He swiveled his head and caught Brady’s eye. He opened his mouth and screamed, “Da-da.”
