Authors: Jodi Thomas
He climbed into his Tahoe thinking that half the women in Crossroads were more his type than the little curator. She didn’t know how to dress or fluff her hair. Every female in Texas was born knowing how to wear boots and jeans. You’d think Angie would look around and notice jeans are worn tight, not baggy.
He headed straight toward the lake and her tiny little cabin. He decided it was simply to check to make sure no Mercury was parked anywhere near, but in truth he wanted to see her.
Maybe he’d just ask for her phone number so he could check on her. That made sense, but tonight his sense seemed a quarter shy of a dollar even though he’d only had a couple of beers.
When he came down the hill to the lake, he passed the sheriff’s place. All the lights were on, but he didn’t see Brigman.
A few minutes later when he pulled onto the dirt road that wound around trees and natural rock formations to get to her cabin, Wilkes relaxed. No Mercury.
There were lights on inside the cabin, but when he knocked, no one answered.
“Angie!” he called. “It’s just me checking on you.”
It occurred to him that she might not know who
me
was, but he’d feel like an even bigger fool yelling out his own name.
He knocked again.
No answer.
He walked around the cabin looking in every window like an impatient Peeping Tom. No one inside, but the cabin still had its usual explosion of color. Huge Texas Star and pinwheel-patterned quilts hung on the walls. The old leather couch he’d seen two nights ago was now covered with an afghan, and the table he’d seen by the front window now looked elegant covered in antique lace.
Wilkes sat down on the front step, leaned against a support log, lowered his hat and went to sleep. This seemed as good a place for a nap as anywhere.
Before he was settled into a dream, someone started shaking his shoulder.
He bolted and tumbled off the top step. When he recovered enough to realize nothing was broken, he found Angie staring down at him. “Must I forever be waking you up, Wilkes Wagner? Don’t you have a bed to sleep in?”
Wilkes slowly stood dusting off clods of mud. “Didn’t I tell you that all you have to say is
wake up
? You don’t have to knock me off the porch.”
She glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you and forgot to get your phone number.” That excuse sounded lame even to him. “I also wanted to ask you to my house for dinner tomorrow. There’s an old guy searching the canyon for what might prove very interesting to the museum.”
Finally, she seemed to relax. “Are you talking about Carter Mayes?”
“You know him?”
“No, but I heard one of the volunteers mention him and I’ve seen him a few times around where steps go down into the canyon’s viewing area. I’d love to meet him.” She hesitated, then added, “Thank you for inviting me. I’m sorry I knocked you off my porch.”
Wilkes rubbed his head. “Angie, maybe we should try starting all over again. We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot and at this rate I might have permanent injuries before I get to know you. I think I’d like it if we could be friends. Good friends.” He knew he wasn’t being plain enough, but he had to start somewhere. Asking her to sleep with him seemed a little forward at this point.
Angie laughed, and he thought it was a nice sound.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee before you drive home? Maybe it will keep you awake.”
“Sure.” He dusted off his hat and headed in behind her. “Mind my asking where you’ve been?”
She moved around the tiny area that served as her kitchen as she made coffee. “I like to walk over to the water’s edge and watch the sunset. It reminds me of my parents’ home. They lived on a sliver of an island in Florida.”
“I thought you were from New York.”
“We moved to Florida when I was in grade school. My father had lost his job and his brother offered him one in Florida. Dad had loaned him money a few years before, so I guess he figured he owed him.”
“Nice of your uncle.”
She shook her head. “Not really. They might have been brothers, but they never got along. My dad hated the job, but my mother got sick, so he stayed. Then after my mother died, he stayed on because it was all he knew.”
Wilkes wanted to know about her. What made her interesting mixture of character traits? “Which did you like better, New York or Florida?”
“Both. Neither.” She laughed. “I had friends before we moved, but never found any in Florida. When I went back to visit New York, it wasn’t the same. I didn’t really have much in common with my childhood friends.” She stared out the window. “Every place has its history, its magic, its own sounds. Here, after dark, the sounds of the lake fascinate me. They’re lonely sounds.”
“You lonely out here?” He had the feeling Angie had been alone most of her life. An only child who got moved from place to place.
“No.” She shoved away from the window. “I have my cat, remember? Plus I’m growing to love Texas more every day. It’s a place to breathe, you know.”
He agreed. Every place he’d traveled had made him feel as if he couldn’t draw a deep breath. “I have half a dozen cats, you know.” To his surprise she smiled and touched his arm in almost a pat, almost a hit. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to be friendly or about to beat him senseless.
“That’s great,” she said. “Most men hate cats.”
“Not me.” He patted her arm back, feeling as though they were kids on the playground. He didn’t dare tell her that his cats lived in the barn and now and then Uncle Vern pancaked one driving out in his pickup.
Angie leaned across the table to pour the coffee.
Wilkes wouldn’t have noticed if the coffee was made of mud. He was too busy watching her. He guessed she was in her midtwenties. She was a smart, accomplished woman, but something about her didn’t fit. Besides being shy, she didn’t seem to understand, not just him, but men in general. If she had, she would have been aware of how her blouse opened at the neck as she leaned forward.
He reminded himself that if he were a gentleman, he wouldn’t have noticed. Wilkes knew he’d have to be dead to be that much of a gentleman.
“Where’d you go to school, Angie?” he managed to say when she sat down across from him.
“In Washington, DC. I lived with my two great-aunts. We had a grand time.”
Proving his theory about how sheltered she probably was, he thought, as he said, “Tell me about it.”
She moved her head back and forth and blushed. “Well, we always got prepared for the snow. We’d buy fabric and yarn and all kinds of crafts just for fun. I was in charge of the snow-day movies. I’d order a dozen sometimes. When the bad weather came, we’d hole up and sew or quilt while we watched movies. It was a fun time.”
“I can bet,” he said. “You stayed with them all four years?”
She nodded, sending her curly hair bouncing. “I did. My aunts moved to a retirement home a year after I left. I miss them terribly.”
She glanced down, and he had the feeling that she was worried about something.
“What about your fiancé? Do you miss him?” Wilkes watched her closely. Obviously the guy she left behind hadn’t crossed her mind.
“No,” she said a bit too fast. “I’m over him. To me he never existed.”
Wilkes was starting to wonder if he ever had. Women like to pick apart all that was wrong with an ex. She’d never even mentioned this guy Jones’s first name. This born-yesterday woman was starting to fascinate him like no woman had in years. But if he were to stay around her, he would have to slow down, back down.
No matter how jaded Wilkes was with the game men and women play, he couldn’t go stomping over a heart that was newborn.
CHAPTER TEN
Lauren
A
LL
THE
BELLS
and cars honking for homecoming had long faded by the time Lauren got back to the dorm after visiting Polly at the hospital. Tim walked her to the elevator in the lobby without saying much; maybe he was as shaken as she was over Polly’s attempt at suicide, if that’s what it had been. The hospital might believe the mirror had fallen, but Lauren and Tim had put pieces of what Polly said together, and neither was sure the tumbling mirror had been an accident.
“Why do you think she did it?” Tim finally asked.
“I don’t know,” Lauren answered. “We’ve been rooming together for over a month and as far as I know her mom’s only called once. For all the parties she goes to, and guys she goes out with, I think she’s lonely.”
“Yeah.” Tim didn’t look at her when he added, “Aren’t we all. This time is supposed to be the most exciting of our lives. The years we live fast and do outrageous things so we can talk about it the rest of our lives. But if this is as good as it gets, I don’t know, I might start hoping for a mirror about to tumble.”
“Don’t say that, Tim. Don’t ever think that.” Lauren fought back tears.
He looked at her and saw the effect of his words. “I’m sorry, L. I didn’t mean it. You know me, I was just trying to be funny.”
She attempted to smile, letting him know he was forgiven. It had been a wild night, starting with the strange date with Reid Collins and ending with Polly in the hospital. She couldn’t even remember how long they’d stayed with her, an hour, a day.
Tim sat on the arm of one of the chairs by the elevator. Silently, as if there was nothing else to say, they watched girls return from homecoming parties. Some looked happy, even dreamlike. Most looked tired or sad. A few simply looked drunk.
“Sometimes I think the world is packed with lonely people walking around, bumping into each other but never really seeing anyone.” Tim shrugged.
She kissed his cheek. “I’m not lonely. I’ve got you. Thanks for coming with me to the hospital. You knew what to do. You made Polly feel better. I’m glad you were there, Tim.”
“Always.” He smiled. “You’re the only girl who calls me to go out, and where do we go? The hospital.” He grinned. “I’ve tried dating a few times, but the girls either don’t get my jokes or they expect me to pay for them. What is the fun in that? I run out of money twice as fast and they go buy a new pair of shoes. If you’re not married by thirty, will you promise to marry me? I have a feeling I’ll still be single.”
“I promise I’ll marry you if I’m still single and we’ll grow old together wondering why no one else wants us.” She giggled, releasing nervous energy and worry.
He took both her hands in his. “We’ll build a house on the lake between my folks and your dad and have redheaded babies.”
“Wait a minute. Is sex part of the deal?” She laughed.
“Hell, yeah.” He winked.
“I may have to reconsider.”
He stood and walked toward the open door. “It’s part of the deal, babe, take it or leave it.”
She pushed the elevator button and said, “We’ve got over ten years to negotiate. Good night, Tim.”
“Good night.” He walked out the open front door and into the shadows.
She watched him go. When the elevator opened, she just stood there, staring into the night wondering why Tim hadn’t crossed the corridor to the other wing.
It was late, very late. Maybe he didn’t want to take the chance of seeing anyone if he crossed through the inside passage between their dorms. Maybe he felt as she did. All of her emotions had drained, leaving a tired ache that melted into her bones.
When she turned back to go upstairs, something caught her eye. Someone was standing there a few feet away, almost invisible between the building’s corner lights.
She waited. Hoping. Fearing.
“Hi, Lauren.”
She’d know his voice anywhere. Low and rich with the slight hint of his heritage whispering in his words. The one voice that always made her heart beat faster.
“Lucas,” she answered, remembering the first time she’d become aware of him. It had been a night like this, starless and cold, two and a half years ago. Only, it had been spring, not fall, and she’d had no warning of how much she would grow up in one night.
Several of them had been working on a project for 4-H. When their ride didn’t show up, they decided to walk home. Reid and Tim were talking football, but Lucas talked to her. He’d been a senior about to graduate, and she’d been a sophomore. They were both planning to simply walk and talk, but thanks to a bad suggestion from Reid Collins they’d ended up breaking into that old abandoned house. She’d gone along, thinking she’d have a story to tell on Monday, and Lucas said he’d agreed so he could watch over her.
They dropped into the old house from a window. Part of the floor gave way and Lucas had saved her life that night.
After that, now and then when he was home from college, they’d talk or take an hour to watch the stars. Her father thought they were friends who called each other sometimes. No one knew that they were far more. Promises unspoken, but felt. A few dreams of what might be bound them. More than friends and less than lovers. Purgatory.
He moved closer but remained in the shadow of the doorway. “You all right, Lauren?” he asked.
She took a step closer to him. Lucas Reyes was standing in front of her just as much of a shadow in life as he was in her dreams.
“I went upstairs looking for you,” he said as his tall, lean body moved toward the light. He was dressed in worn jeans and a faded Western shirt. She guessed he’d come straight from working cattle all day. “One of the girls on your wing said you took your roommate to the hospital.”
There was so much she wanted to tell him, but Lauren didn’t know where to start. “The ambulance took her. I caught a ride with Tim. Polly was hurt pretty bad.”
She wanted to scream at Lucas for not being there for her tonight. He should have been the one to take her to the game. He should have helped her with Polly, but no promises had ever been spoken between them. Maybe they’d only been in her mind.
She wanted him to care so deeply that seeing her was as necessary as breathing, but he didn’t and she couldn’t bear that he didn’t.
Lauren was suddenly angry and guessed Lucas would be, too, after overhearing her promise to marry Tim, but he wasn’t. He simply moved slowly to her until their bodies touched, then he circled her in a hug and pulled her against him.