Chemistry Lessons (15 page)

Tanner rested a hand at his hip. “You call them stupid articles, but
what if they’re true? What if you’ve spent the past two hours with a murderer?”

“Can you just quit being jealous and trust me?” She’d said it without
thinking. After the incredulous look that came to his face, she regretted saying
it.

He blinked. “Is there a reason I should be jealous?”

“No,” she huffed.

Tanner glared at her as if she were a student who had misbehaved, his
jaw working like he wanted to say something else.

How dare he look at her that way? She balled her hands into fists,
feeling her nails dig into her palms. “You aren’t telling Mr. Moore about
this—at least not until we get the story straight.”

Tanner didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed.

He was acting immature and unreasonable, but if she told him that, she’d
have to spend at least an hour reassuring him that she really loved him. Feeling
it would be more work than it was worth, she let out her breath and ended the
conversation before things got any worse. “It’s been such a stressful day. Can
we talk about this tomorrow?”

Tanner threw his hand up and turned back to the computer screen. “Fine,
but I’m not dropping the issue.”

Her damp, muddy skirt scratched against her legs, keeping her cold and
miserable. Stripping it off and soaking in a hot bath was sounding better and
better, but there wasn’t time for that either. “I’d better go change.”

She walked to her bedroom and, with shaking hands, changed into work
clothes. Wile E lay asleep beside her bed, his legs and cast twitching in
dreams. He woke when she sat on the edge, and she reached to pet his fur. Could
the same man who saved Wile E be guilty of killing his own brother? It was
ridiculous to even consider it. She couldn’t trust those articles any more than
she could trust some of the stories she heard from Betty. She would have to
find out for herself whether he was guilty of insider trading or embezzlement, though
she doubted those accusations were true.

Now that she was home, she wished she and Destry had stayed longer in
Morrisville. It would have been fun to show him the farm store, where you could
buy nuts and bolts by the pound. Then they could have had lunch at Sarah’s
café. Sarah always made the best bread.

She curled her legs up to her chest and recalled what Destry had said
about her having a golden touch. She had never been one to watch romantic
movies, and she never thought she would feel flutters when a man looked at her.
These feelings were foreign, yet wonderful, and she didn’t want to let go of
them yet. Never had a man made her feel so important or beautiful. Not even
Tanner. How was it possible that she even wanted to kiss another man?

Engaged women were supposed to be immune to that sort of temptation.

Every able-bodied citizen was expected to help with the flood clean-up,
so Rosie should have been doing something other than sitting on the edge of her
bed, thinking about her day with Destry.

She’d heard about married women who became infatuated with doctors or
firemen. It was completely normal to crush on someone who’d saved your life.
This thing with Destry was simply a result of gratitude mixed with pheromones. She
probably would have felt this same rush of first attraction with Tanner when
she first started dating him if she hadn’t known him so long before that.
Infatuation was a stage in most romantic relationships—a stage that never
lasted. She couldn’t abandon Tanner simply because she’d enjoyed a morning with
Destry.

It had been fun, though. She and Tanner needed to have more fun—the way
they had when they were younger. This was more of a wake-up call than anything
else—a message that she and Tanner could lighten up a little.

Of course, there’d be no time for fun today. Destry was probably
already heading back to town. She imagined he’d be shoveling mud from someone’s
basement within the next twenty minutes or so.

She walked back to the kitchen to find Tanner stirring a pot on the
stove. “Your grandpa had me make this beef stew to take down to the church.” In
past years, Rosie’s grandma and grandpa had always been the first on the scene
when disaster struck.

Rosie glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. “I’ll go with you. They’re
bound to need more help.” She poured the stew into Grandma’s slow cooker to
keep it warm in case it ended up sitting on a table all afternoon. There was no
telling how many people would bring food.

Tanner carried the slow cooker to his truck. “I guess we’ll have to
postpone our ring shopping.”

Rosie followed him, trying not to think of citrine gems. She remembered
her vow to have more fun with Tanner. “We should play some arcade games after
we’re done at the jewelry store.”

Tanner scrunched his nose as he opened the door for her. “Arcade games?
After we buy your engagement ring?”

Rosie slid into the passenger seat and buckled her belt, wondering how
to get Tanner on board with her new idea. “I thought we could play for a
half-hour or so. Everything’s been so serious lately.”

Tanner closed her door and went around to his side. “I was hoping to go
to the bank after we went to the jewelry store.”

Her hopes sank. “I guess it’s about time we applied for a loan
together.”

“It’ll be harder now that you don’t have a car,” Tanner said. “But if
you can, hold off buying one until after we get the loan. I can give you rides
to school.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“You’ll need all the money in your savings account for the down payment.
The bigger the down payment, the better the loan.”

Rosie swallowed, wishing she didn’t have to tell him. He was so much
better with money than she was. “I don’t have that much in my savings. It might
not even be enough to buy a bicycle.”

Tanner paused before he started the car, looking shocked. “But you
haven’t had a car payment for over a year. I thought you were saving your
money.”

“I was, but things kept cropping up. I had to buy a headstone for
Grandma. It was too expensive for Grandpa to buy on his own, and he wouldn’t
ask Mom or Uncle Jeff since they paid for the other funeral expenses. Then
there were a bunch of little things I guess—vet bills, satellite TV for
Grandpa.” She couldn’t say where all of it had gone.

His bottom lip jutted out. “That’s okay. We’ll just have to find the
money some other way.” He shifted the car into drive and splashed through the
puddles on the driveway.

Rosie squeezed his bicep, trying to defuse the anger that she could
feel brewing. With everything going on with Destry, and now their finances, she
worried the whole rest of the day would be ruined with his pouting. “I’m afraid
I’m getting the better end of this deal.”

Tanner stopped the car and reached to kiss her softly on the lips. “Believe
me, Rosie, I’m getting the better deal.” He gazed at her for a second. Then he
put the car back in gear and drove toward the highway.

Rosie wondered if he really felt like he was getting the better deal or
if he said that because it was the right thing to say. Would she ever know
Tanner as well as her grandparents had known each other—where they could
predict each others’ reactions well enough that they almost never said the
wrong thing?

She stilled her bouncing foot, trying to look more confident than she
felt. “I’m sure I can come up with some more money.” She could give up
satellite TV and stop eating out for lunch. With a little self-control, she
could save a few hundred dollars, but Tanner probably expected more than that.
She would need
a lot
more than self-control. A miracle would be nice.

Tanner’s expression remained unchanged. “Would you consider selling a
few of your animals to good homes?”

Because of health issues and behavior problems, most of her pets were
the kind she couldn’t give away, much less sell. If she did manage to sell
them, they might not get the specialized care they needed. Tanner had a point,
though. If she didn’t make some sacrifices, she might not be able to buy the
ranch. Then her animals would all need new homes. “I’ll post a few for sale
online and see what happens.”

“Good idea.”

Of all her pets, the emus were in the best shape. She had raised them
both since they were young, and the female laid eggs regularly. “I guess I’ll
start with the emus.”

“That’s what I was going to suggest. Not that they’ll be easy to sell.”
Tanner had gotten in more than one tussle with her emus. They’d bit him two or
three times.

She was just grateful he tolerated her obsession. Remembering her
pledge to have more fun with him, she circled back to the original topic. “You
know what we need? A good old-fashioned date, something that doesn’t involve
work.” As the side of his lips turned down, she added. “It doesn’t have to be
expensive.”

He seemed to consider the idea. “After things dry up, we could go
four-wheeling.” He sounded less than enthusiastic.

“I’d like that,” Rosie said, remembering how she’d once ridden behind
Tanner on the four-wheeler, holding onto him as he raced through the gullies
behind his parents’ ranch.

The gray mass of clouds had moved off into the distance, and streams of
light filtered through them, resting on Mount Morris. It seemed a sign of hope.
Everything was going to work out.

She watched cattle grazing near temporary ponds. Their footprints sunk
into the mud, dotting the ground with tiny puddles. Standing water lined the
sides of the road, and here and there, Tanner had to drive through it. Rosie
cringed each time. She explained how her car had stopped in flood waters like
these, and he assured her that the water here wasn’t deep enough to carry them
away.

 When they passed Pecos Bill’s restaurant at the edge of town, she
could tell things were bad. The neon signs remained dark, and a closed sign
hung in the front door. “Looks like the power’s out,” Tanner said. “I might
have to turn around and get my camping stove to keep the stew warm.”

“Let’s stop at the church first. People might be hungry.”

Tanner drove past three more closed businesses before arriving at the
old white, steepled church. Years ago, the townspeople had built a red brick addition
to the back of the building. The addition provided room for a dining hall and
Sunday school classrooms. Cars crowded the parking lot to the side of the
church, and Rosie spied Janessa carrying a stack of pillows through the doors.
Rosie bit down on the inside of her cheek. She growled out her words, sounding
almost as commanding as Grandpa on a bad day. “We should go somewhere else. It
looks crowded here.”

Tanner nodded toward an empty parking space near the kitchen. “Looks
like there’s room for us.” He pulled into the spot and then hefted the slow
cooker from the back of the car.

“I can’t face Janessa today,” she said, but Tanner didn’t hear. The hum
of a generator by the kitchen window overpowered her voice. She wanted to kick
the thing.

Curling her hands into fists, Rosie followed Tanner inside, where
people were already setting up temporary sleeping quarters. Cots and sleeping
bags covered the floor. Stacks of boxes and bags lined the walls. In the middle
of the hall, people—mostly children—ate or played board games at card tables.
Janessa stood on the opposite side of the dining hall, and Rosie hoped she
would stay there.

They found Farrah in the kitchen, pouring lemonade mix into a drink
dispenser. “Am I ever glad to see you two.”

Rosie found a spot on the counter and plugged in her slow cooker. “Do
you need some help in here?”

Farrah tossed the drink mix canister into the garbage. Her T-shirt had
ridden up her waist, and the tan skin of her back peeked out. “I haven’t had a
break since last night when the police told us we needed to evacuate. They gave
us two hours, and the only reason we got all our things moved out is because
Destry came to help. If he isn’t the best thing that’s happened to our family,
I don’t know what is. I guess you heard that our house washed away.”

So Rosie wasn’t the only one Destry had rescued that day. Telling
herself she had no reason to be jealous of Farrah’s relationship with Destry,
she lifted the lid from her slow cooker and stirred the stew. “I didn’t know
about your house. I’m sorry.”

Farrah wiped her hands on the sides of her jeans, emphasizing the curve
of her hips as she did so. “My insurance has already agreed to replace
everything I lost. Destry says I should look at it as a chance to start over.
It’s like we’re trading up for a better place.”

Beside Rosie, Tanner slowly exhaled. She could guess what he was
thinking—that Destry was tricking the town into thinking he was a great
philanthropist. “Do you have a place to stay?” he asked.

“My insurance company is putting us up at the Best Western in Copper
City,” Farrah said. “It’ll be like a little vacation.”

She was staying at the Best Western, not at Destry’s house.
At least
one thing went right today
, she thought, but then she caught herself. What
did she care where they stayed? Destry wasn’t anyone special to her. “That
sounds fun,” she said.

Farrah fanned herself with her hand. “It will be. And Destry is keeping
our things in his spare rooms, so I can save the money the insurance is going
to give me to rent a storage space.”

Rosie sent a quick glance toward Tanner. “That’s nice of him.” She was
just starting to relax a bit, leaning against the counter, when Janessa hustled
into the kitchen.

Rosie froze.

 “The firemen were just in here looking for you, Ms. Curtis.” Janessa’s
happy tone of voice—all sugar and fizz—made Rosie want to wring her neck.
Instead, she gripped the edge of the counter and glared at the linoleum floor.

“Did they say what they needed her for?” Tanner asked. “Did it have
something to do with her car?”

“No, but they were in a hurry to find her.” The girl spoke in excited
tones—as if the firemen had a great surprise for Rosie.

“Thanks for letting us know,” Tanner said, in the same dull monotone he
would use
at funerals.

With shaking hands, Rosie pulled her phone from her pocket and checked
the messages. Sure enough, there was a vague message from one of the firemen,
saying he needed to talk to her. When she called him back, he didn’t answer.

 “It could be something important,” Farrah said. “I’ll bet if you drive
up Prickly Pear Drive, you’ll find them. The houses up there took the brunt of
the flood.”

Tanner looked from Rosie to Farrah. “Sorry, we can’t stay and take over
for you.”

It was only a mile up the hill to Prickly Pear Drive, but what a change
in scenery it brought. Rosie gasped at the road and the lawns caked in a foot
of mud. The destroyed homes were mostly small, made of pink brick or adobe.
They were some of the oldest homes in town, occupying tiny, evenly-spaced lots.

 Here and there, volunteers hauled heirloom furniture, photo albums,
pet cages, and prescription bottles out of the tiny dwellings. Destry stood next
to Alan and a few other high school boys, laughing and visiting, each of them
wielding a shovel. When Destry noticed Rosie and Tanner, he waved and flashed a
smile in their direction.

Rosie felt heat rise to her face as she grinned back. Then she
remembered Tanner and clamped her lips together.

Tanner made the slightest movement with his hand. It was more of an
acknowledgment than a wave, the kind Rosie might receive from the principal
during a busy day at work.

“Ready, set, go,” Destry shouted. He and the boys went to work,
scraping up mud as quickly as they could and throwing it into a nearby
wheelbarrow. Rosie tried not to stare at the way his muscles flexed, or the way
mud streaked the side of his face.

Tanner waved toward Joe Lancaster, a fireman he saw on the other side
of the road—the same one who’d arrived too late to rescue her that morning. He
had also assisted with her car accident last year. “Were you looking for Rosie?”
Tanner asked.