Three
“I’m so glad you had time to meet with me, Flynn,” Dinah said as they took a seat in one of the booths at the Number 1 Diner. Though it hadn’t been in Roundup for all that long, every time Dinah entered the place she felt a burst of nostalgia. It probably had something to do with the old photos of miners decorating the walls.
Or maybe it was the bright cherry-red Formica tabletops. Or maybe seeing waitresses dressed in jeans and boots and those red-and-black aprons just made her smile. “I had a real need for girl time.”
“I’m always up for a cheeseburger, you know that. Carbs and saturated fat can do a world of good for a woman in the throes of pregnancy.”
Looking at her friend and sister-in-law with a real fondness, Dinah laughed. “One thing never changes, Flynn. Come hell or high water, you’re never afraid to tell it like it is. Even if it involves too much information.”
“It’s only TMI if people don’t care,” she said, rubbing her growing belly. “And I’m sure you do care.”
“I’m taking the Fifth on that one.” Grinning, she opened the plastic menu and skimmed over the choices, lingering on the idea of a burger and fries…then resolutely focusing on the salads and grilled chicken. She’d worked too hard at the police academy to ignore the physical regime and exams. No way was she going to slide down into a slippery slope of unhealthy choices.
By the time Karla stopped at their table, chomping her ever-present gum, Dinah had made her decision. “I’ll have the Cobb salad, dressing on the side, Karla.”
“Drink?”
“Diet.”
Flynn made gagging noises. “That’s what I love about you, Dinah. You’re nothing if not predictable. Karla, I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate shake.”
Karla winked. “Gotcha. Sure you don’t want to change your mind and get something with a couple of more calories, Dinah?”
What she wanted and could have were two different things. And, well, there was that secret stash of Snickers bars she couldn’t seem to ignore. “I’m good. Thanks.” Looking around, Dinah tried to catch sight of Sierra Byrne, the owner of the diner. “Karla, where’s Sierra?”
Karla shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure. Maybe she’s with her aunt Jordan? Sometimes Sierra and Jordan take Molly out on walks together.”
Dinah vaguely recalled seeing Sierra’s aunt Jordan and her Seeing Eye dog, Molly, walking in the park. “Oh. Well, tell Sierra ‘hey’ next time you see her.”
“Will do.”
When they were alone, Flynn crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you want to tell me why you called?”
“I just wanted lunch. And I wanted to hear how things were going at the ranch. And with the veterinary practice, too.”
“I’m sure Ace’s been keeping you informed.” Raising a brow, she said, “Ace said he talked to you about everything a few days ago. Did he actually call you?”
All her brothers called her on a regular basis—well, all except Tuf, she realized with a sinking heart. Ever since he was discharged from the marines, all they knew about Tuf was that he was somewhere in America. And that he had no desire to come to Roundup, Montana.
However, when Colt or Ace did call to check in, it was a bare-bones thing. They checked up on her. They filled her in with ranch news, all the time giving her a subtle reminder that she should be stopping by the house a whole lot more than she did.
“Ace called,” Dinah said. “Ace always calls.”
Flynn tilted her head to the side. As she did so, her blond hair shimmered a bit. Reminding Dinah of how healthy and vibrant she looked in her pregnancy. “So you just decided to ask me to lunch? Out of the blue?”
Why was Flynn making such a big deal about this? “A girl’s got to eat.”
“That is true. But you? On a Monday? I don’t think so.”
What the heck?
“Flynn, you’re making it seem like I don’t eat.” Looking down at her jeans, she privately wished they were a little less loose. She’d been losing weight something awful with the way the case was going. Or not going. “I do.”
“That is true. But you always stay in your office and file during lunch on Mondays.”
With some surprise, Dinah realized her sister-in-law was exactly right. She’d regimented her life so well that even people she didn’t see very often knew her schedule. All in an attempt to always be in control.
Pushing that thought away, she decided to dive into the deep end and hope Flynn had enough strength of character to pull her out while she was still breathing. “I saw Austin Wright today,” she blurted.
“Austin, huh?” Flynn picked up the shake that had just been delivered and took a healthy sip. “And this means something because…”
“You know how we used to be friends.” When Flynn just kept staring, Dinah finished the thought. “Okay. Really good friends.”
“We live in a small town. Everybody here has been friends with each other at one time.”
Flynn had a point, but it also wasn’t exactly true. A lot of them had been friends. And a lot of them had hung around together. But not so much with Austin or his sister, Cheyenne. In fact, apart from a span of eight months when she’d decided to live on the wild side, she’d never had much to say to him.
Well, she’d never trusted herself to have much to say to him.
Her mother had never been a real big fan of her seeing Austin, and with good reason, too.
“You know how everyone is around Austin,” Dinah added, not so obliquely referring to Austin’s troubles with bottles of bourbon.
With a grin, Flynn fanned herself with her paper napkin. “I know he’s just about the finest thing I’ve ever seen. Except for Ace, of course. It’s hardly fair. No man should look so good.”
Flynn was so right. Austin had looked good. Even all worn-out and tired-looking, he’d looked really good.
But even noticing felt like a betrayal of what she believed in. What she stood for. She needed to think about her job and her reputation. Not the wicked urges she had whenever she was around him. “I went to his shop to ask him about some saddles and we started talking,” Dinah said. “Do you ever have much occasion to visit with him?”
“You mean besides when I go shopping at his store?”
To her embarrassment, Dinah had never imagined anyone actually shopping there. It had always seemed a poor substitute for someplace better.
But maybe that had been a mean excuse. Maybe she’d really just been avoiding Austin. The idea made her uncomfortable. “You’ve shopped in Wright’s Western Wear?”
“Uh, yeah,” Flynn said with a touch of sarcasm. “They sell clothes and
