Quinton did not have time to judge the interaction, only that he had done it. Damn, this new assistant was going to get him into trouble. What had he been thinking? Smiling at a married woman? He could not let Ralph’s Don Juan attitude infect him as well. Quinton knew well the price for such idealism.
“What’ll you have?” the waitress asked, startling Quinton.
Ralph, however, smoothly answered, “Is it just me, or are all the women in this town just lovely?”
Even this stodgy, husky-voiced-from-years-of-smoking-unfiltered-cigarettes waitress unconsciously fussed with her hair. “It must be the water,” the woman replied.
The younger man smiled and nodded over to the far side of the restaurant. “Is that Mr. Togglehorn?”
“Sure enough is.”
“What does he like to drink?” Ralph asked.
Quinton wondered what his assistant was up. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the idea that he had just flirted with the local tyrant’s wife.
The waitress held no affection in her voice. “He’s a Coors man.”
“Great. Send him over a long neck for us. No, wait. Bring the beer here, and we’ll deliver it ourselves.”
The woman raised an eyebrow but wrote down the request on her little green notepad. He tried to keep his eyes to himself, but Quinton kept looking across the room at the woman. Had she been as attractive as he thought? On closer inspection, the woman was slightly rumpled. A few hairs out of place, not enough to be called messy, but disheveled enough for Quinton to know that she didn’t fuss constantly about her appearance. He liked that quality. But what was he thinking? She was Togglehorn’s wife, the very man that Ralph wanted to go over and chat with. Quinton was barely conscious of agreeing to order the Hungry Man Platter; he was too eager to get Ralph alone again.
Once the waitress sauntered off, swaying her rump far more than she had on the way over, Quinton lit into his assistant. “What in the hell do you think you are doing?”
“When else are we going to have a shot at him? Do you really think he’ll care the Irene highlighted our appointment?”
“No, but --”
Th younger man waved his hand. “Just leave it to the master. By the time dinner is served, we’ll have permission to go over their records.”
“Ralph, this isn’t a game, damn it.”
His assistant looked almost amused. “You’re just upset that you smiled at his wife. No biggie.”
Quinton tried to keep his voice down, but he was sure his harsh whisper carried to the other tables. “It is a big deal to me. And I’m sure it would be a big deal to Mr. Togglehorn.”
The younger man chuckled a bit and leaned towards Quinton. “It’s harmless. I just try to make everyone’s day a little nicer, that’s all. Don’t worry. I’m sure she hasn’t even given it a second thought.”
CHAPTER 4
Regina had to keep her eyes on the table, else they kept straying to the handsome stranger. His smile had somehow warmed her evening. She had barely noticed what Wayne ordered for her. No matter what came to the table, she was simply expected to eat it and look like she enjoyed it. Meryl had fussed a bit about the selection but finally settled in to read her school assignment. Wayne had nearly come unglued that his daughter was reading in public, like it was some kind of perversion, but he was too busy talking to Michael about the teen’s glowing future to really stop her.
Normally, Regina’s stomach would have been in knots over Wayne’s arrogant plans for their son, but she was too preoccupied with the stranger. Who was he? Was he just being polite, or did he think she was single? With Wayne around bellowing orders, that was not very likely. Sadly, she had to admit the stranger was simply being nice.
“Mr. Togglehorn?” a man asked as he approached the table.
Regina looked up to find the stranger and another young man beside their table. She had been so engrossed in the tablecloth that she did not see them approach. Her cheeks flushed red as the stranger grinned at her again.
“What in the hell do you want?” Wayne replied. Regina knew how little love her husband had for out-of-towners
The young man only smiled and offered her husband a long-necked bottle. “We just wanted to buy you a drink. We’d be happy to buy the whole table one if you like?”
Regina tried really hard not to look up, but her eyes were drawn to the stranger. He was tall, probably taller than even Wayne. The man certainly stayed in far better shape than her husband. Underneath the soft flannel, you could see muscle stretching the fabric. And those eyes. All blue-gray. The dark hair with a just a sprinkling of silver could keep her occupied for hours. His matching mustache could tickle her cheek anytime it wanted to.
But what was she thinking for god’s sake? She was married. No, she was not just married. Regina was married to Mr. Togglehorn. His wife was not allowed to even have thoughts like this.
Wayne inspected the label and then took a swig. “That won’t be necessary. Thanks.” He tipped the bottle towards them, but obviously they did not get the hint that the gesture was Wayne’s equivalent to a dismissal.
“No problem. Sir, we’re the survey team that’s been assigned to --”
“I don’t talk business after-hours, boy. Take it up at the office.”
It was the tall stranger’s turn to talk, and his voice was as deep and as resonant as Regina could have hoped for. Not Wayne’s nasal twang.
“Mr. Togglehorn, we’ve tried and haven’t gotten anywhere.”
Wayne’s shoulder’s tensed. Regina wanted to warn the two men but did not know what to say. Luckily, they were out in public so her husband held his temper in check, at least a little bit. “Like I said, make an appointment.”
The men must have sensed the finality to his tone for they both nodded. The younger man stretched out his hand. “Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow then.”
It took a moment for the man to realize that Wayne was not going to shake his hand. Even as the younger man lowered his arm, he kept a smile on his face. “Good night, and have a great meal.”
The tall stranger on the other hand looked ready to challenge Wayne’s rudeness. As much as she wanted the stranger to talk some more, Regina begged him with her eyes to leave. Fighting with her husband never got anyone anywhere. In the end, the tall man abruptly nodded his good-bye. Just before he turned around, the stranger smiled again at Regina. This time it was a tight one. A bit crooked and lop-sided but utterly perfect.
Regina watched the two walk away and wished intently that Wayne had not been at dinner.
“Can you say ‘hotty’?” Meryl exclaimed.
“Shh!” Regina chided her daughter.
Wayne turned with a scalding look. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“That guy. The tall one. He was H-O-T. You know, babiliscious? Hunk-o-rama?”
“What are you talking about?”
Meryl just shrugged and took another sip of her milkshake. “Mom understands.”
Regina wanted to melt into the fake leather cushions. Certainly she did know, but she wasn’t about to tell Wayne that.
“Well, Regina? What damn bullshit have you been teaching her?”
There was no point in informing her husband that Meryl and she would routinely go through the teen magazines and pick out their favorite guys. Regina had justified this giddy ritual to bonding with her daughter, but really she just plain enjoyed it. When she was Meryl’s age, her family did not have the money to buy anything beyond macaroni and cheese. Once old enough, her father practically sold her off to Wayne.
There was no harm in finally having a little girly fun with her daughter was there? Well, yes there was, especially if Meryl kept announcing these things at the dinner table.
“She just thought the man was cute, Wayne.”
“And what in the hell was she doing looking at him?”
Meryl cut in before Regina could defuse the situation. “And like you don’t stare at your secretary’s bu
tt!”
Wayne looked ready to bolt out of his chair and launch across the table at their daughter. Regina caught her husband’s arm as it raised and gently but firmly pulled it down to the table. Wayne looked as shocked as Regina that she had done such a thing. Trying to scramble out of the moment without any more violence, verbal or otherwise, Regina scolded her daughter for the outburst. Not that Wayne did not deserve it, but this argument needed to end, and this was the only way out.
“Meryl, that was very rude. Apologize to your father right now.”
As the food was being put onto the table, Wayne begrudgingly accepted Meryl’s mumbled apology. There was nothing like a huge slab of ribs to temper Wayne’s rage.
Taking one last glance across the room, Regina sought out the stranger’s eyes, but he was busy talking to his companion. It looked like the stranger was giving the young man a chiding as bad as she had just given Meryl. Sighing, Regina brought her attention back to the table. She had a family to raise and a husband to cool down.
CHAPTER 5
Quinton startled awake. The knocking at his motel door persistent. Groaning, he rolled over and bumped into Hurricane. The dog seemed no more eager to greet the day than his master did. To his surprise, the clock read nine-thirty in the morning. Damn, how had he overslept that badly?
“Who is it?”
“Just me,” Ralph said, all bright and cheery.
Throwing a sheet around his waist, Quinton opened the door a crack. “Look, I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
The younger man waved Quinton off. “No need to hurry. I went over to Blue Mountain already. Mr. Togglehorn is out of town today--” Quinton began cursing, but Ralph hurried on. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. We’ve got an appointment at eleven with the head foremen to go over their proposal and previous logging records. Just wanted to let you know.”
“Thanks,” Quinton said, still a bit groggy and trying to assimilate everything that Ralph had reported.
“Do you want to go to try the continental breakfast?” his assistant asked as he munched a pastry. “Great Danishes I’m heading back for a second helping.”
“You go on. I’ve got some things to do.”
Ralph shrugged. “I can wait.”
“Um, I need to walk Hurricane.” During the conversation, the Lab had awaken and was now constantly goosing Quinton from behind and trying to pull the sheet off his hips.
The younger man was already backing away. “Got it. Yeah, I think I’ll skip that ritual. See you over at the office at eleven?”
Quinton nodded and closed the door. In addition to getting rid of Ralph so easily it looked like they might actually be starting the survey on time. Perhaps today wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought. After their disastrous meeting with Mr. Togglehorn last night, Quinton half expected the sheriff to show up at his door this morning. They had gotten lucky, and Quinton knew it. He was sure that the owner of the logging company had the ability to make one’s life very uncomfortable if the man put half a mind to it.
Walking over to the shower, Quinton dropped the sheet and immediately regretted it. Hurricane sometimes had the most annoying habits and being naked just gave the dog one more excuse to be even more exasperating. Shooing Hurricane away, Quinton stopped for a moment in front of the mirror. Unconsciously, his hands felt over his abdomen. Those muscles were not quite in the shape they used to be. Sadly, the rest of his body was not either. Dropping to the floor, Quinton did a few quick push-ups, that is until Hurricane decided this was a fun new game.
Chuckling despite himself, Quinton got up and headed to the shower. Why was he bothering to exercise now anyway? He had not worked out in months.
Quinton did not want to admit it to himself, but he knew exactly the reason he was suddenly so worried about his appearance. That woman the night before had gotten to him. For the first time in forever, Quinton cared what somewhat else thought. He had overslept this morning because he had stayed up late turning the encounter over in his head. What had she been thinking? Did she find him appealing? If she was not married, would she be interested in him?
Quinton was being a fool, but luckily he knew it. There was no way, no how, that he would ever know the answer to those questions. More than likely, he would never even see the woman again. No, the best thing for him to do was forget the whole thing even happened and get on with his day. Hurricane could not agree more as the dog jumped in the shower before Quinton could shut the curtain.
Despite the other signs to the contrary, Quinton realized it was going to be one of those days.
***
“Wayne, you can’t go out of town! We’ve got a meeting with the principal in half an hour,” Regina reminded her husband but knew it would not do any good.
As usual, Wayne brushed her concerns aside. “The deal at Backwash is going sour. I’ve got to drive over there and kick their sorry asses until they sign the damn papers.”
There was much that Regina wanted to say, but long ago she had realized it was futile. Wayne was going to do what he wanted to do, and there was nothing she could say to stop him. Sighing, Regina resigned herself to taking the terminally awkward meeting with the principal by herself. Wayne was out the door without even saying good-bye. All the better. It meant that she did not have to force a smile and begrudgingly accept a kiss on the cheek.
Fury jumped up and down, begging for a walk. The dog knew their routine. As soon as the kids and Wayne were out of the house, Regina would take the dog to the state park that bordered their property. Poor Fury did not understand that you did not always get what you wanted.
“I’m sorry, girl,” Regina said as she patted the dog on the shoulders.
More important duties had to be fulfilled. Immediately after the awful meeting with Michael’s school, Regina had to head over to Meryl’s junior high and help reshelf the new library books. From there, she would have to pick up Wayne’s dry cleaning, then the whole afternoon ritual of shuffling the kids would begin again. She had barely started her day, and already it was booked solid. Fury would not be denied though. The dog jumped and leapt and nearly knocked Regina over.
“I’ve got to go, girl.”
Regina stopped in mid-stride. Did she? Did she really have to meet the principal? If Wayne could bail on the meeting, why couldn’t she? What was the school going to do? Suspend Michael because she canceled a meeting? After all, her son had broken out and gotten into a fight, and they still took him back. Couldn’t she wait to have the meeting when Wayne was back in town? Besides, which would Regina rather do? Get ragged at by the principal or fantasize all morning about the handsome stranger? Well, that decision was easy enough. Gaining courage as Fury urged her on, Regina picked up the phone and dialed the school’s number before she chickened out.
Luckily, Regina got the receptionist. “Yes, I’m Mrs. Togglehorn. I need to cancel my appointment with Principal Snyder.”
The receptionist tried to put Regina through to the principal’s secretary, but Regina knew that she would buckle under if she had to talk to that witch of an assistant. “No thanks. Just let them know I will reschedule when my husband is back in town.”
Not waiting for the receptionist’s response, Regina hung up the phone. She felt so deliciously bad in this moment, like she herself was playing hooky or something. Michael was not the only one who knew how to squirm out of responsibility. Before the principal’s office could call back, Regina picked up Fury’s leash and headed for the car. They both were going to have some fun before the monotony of the day set in.
***
Hurricane had to be the funniest damn dog in the world. Quinton laughed as the dog ran around in circles looking for the stick that he had just thrown. No matter that there were a thousand other branches littering the forest floor that the dog could pick up. Hurricane insisted on finding the one stick that Quinton had just tossed. Of course, this mission was complicated by the fact that Hurricane had the worst sense of smell in the Labrador kingdom. The
dog could not sniff out a pound of steak on a silver platter.
“Get that dog on a leash,” a shout came from behind.
Quinton turned to find a park ranger striding forward, looking very officious. The man even had his gun unsnapped, hand hovering over the weapon. Was this guy a jerk or what? But Quinton knew the chances he took when he had brought Hurricane into the state park. “Yes, sir.”
Before Quinton could get Hurricane under control, another dog, a Doberman, came careening out of nowhere and tackled the Labrador. Hurricane did his best to initiate play, but the other dog ran off. Which seemed fine with the Lab, since Hurricane simply gave chase.
Rushing over towards the dogs, before the ranger could get any more bent out of shape, Quinton ran straight into a woman. Not any woman, he realized, but the woman. Stammering his apologizes, he backed away from Mr. Togglehorn’s wife.
“Oh my gosh, are you all right?” the woman asked until she saw his face. Then she too backed away awkwardly.
Well, if that encounter did not confirm that he had made a fool of himself last night, nothing else would. By the time Quinton came back to his senses and tried to corral Hurricane, the two dogs had set off on a grand game of tag. The Doberman was lightening fast, bolting around the trees and chewing up the distance. Hurricane was clearly outmatched by speed but was smart enough to cut corners and always keep himself just a step behind. The two of them streaked through the green forest. All of this would have been wonderful if it were not for the anal-retentive ranger that was breathing down Quinton’s neck and the awkward silence that hung between himself and the woman.
“Sir, restrain your dog, or I will be forced to --”
“Gary. Please. The dogs are just playing,” the woman interrupted the ranger’s tirade, which Quinton was grateful for.
If the man had dared to threaten his dog again, Quinton was not quite sure what he would have done about it, but Quinton knew both the ranger and he would have regretted it.
Indian Moon Page 3
