opposed,” Gil added, “say ‘no.’”
A few loud voices were heard.
The gavel slammed down again sharply. Gil nodded at the group and smiled. “Motion’s passed. A child-care center will be added to the Texas Cattlemen’s Club.”
Beau and a few of the other members, still bristling over the fact that women were now included in their group, were practically apoplectic. But, there was nothing they could do about it.
As Beau stormed out of the meeting, Nathan watched him go and almost felt a flicker of sympathy. He could see the other side of the situation, but you couldn’t stay locked in the past. The world moved every damn day and you moved with it or you got steamrolled. Tradition was one thing, being stuck in the mud was another.
Change happened whether you liked it or not, so the best way to handle it was to hop on board the train as opposed to stretching your body across the tracks and being run over. Which was, he told himself, a good way to think about how to deal with Amanda.
“This is great,” Abigail Price said with a wide smile for her friends and those who had supported them. “And our Julia will be the first child enrolled as soon as we’re up and running.”
“You bet she will, honey.” Brad Price gave his wife’s hand a squeeze. “Shame Beau and the rest are upset, but they’ll get over it.”
“You did,” Abigail reminded him with a smile.
True enough, Nate mused thoughtfully. Not too long ago, Brad and Abby were butting heads every chance they got. He’d done his best to keep Abby out of the TCC and now just look at them—in love, married, and with a great little girl.
While everyone around them talked, Alex suggested, “Why don’t we head over to the diner and get some coffee and pie?”
“Good idea,” Chance agreed and flicked a glance at Nathan.
Friends could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, Nathan told himself. These two were trying to maneuver him into a meeting with Amanda and it just wasn’t going to work. He’d see her. In his own time. In his own way. And damned if he was going to put on a show for the folks in Royal.
“No thanks,” he said, pushing up from the table. He didn’t even look at the other members in the room. “I’m headed back to the office to finish up some paperwork, then I’m going home.”
“Still in hiding?” Alex murmured.
Nathan bristled. “Pretty hard to hide in a town the size of Royal.”
“You should keep that in mind,” Chance told him.
Irritated, Nathan just gritted his teeth and left. No point in arguing with a jackass, he thought.
Amanda was so busy she almost didn’t have time to worry about Nathan.
Almost.
Turns out, even running the family diner, looking for a new house and arranging to have the transmission in her car replaced still left her brain enough room to plague her with thoughts of Nathan Battle.
“Bound to happen,” she reassured herself for the fortieth time that morning. Just being in Royal had brought the memories rushing back and, there were a lot of memories.
She’d known Nathan most of her life and had been nuts about him since she was thirteen. She could still remember the sharp, bright thrill of having Nathan, then an all-powerful senior, taking a lowly freshman to the senior prom.
“And, if we’d just stopped it right there, it would be all sunshine and roses,” she murmured as she refilled the coffee urn with water, then measured in fresh coffee grounds.
She pushed the button to start the brewing process, then turned to look out at the diner. Even with the changes she’d made in the last couple of weeks, being in this place was as good as being home.
She’d grown up in her parents’ diner, working as a busgirl, and then a waitress when she was old enough. The Royal Diner was an institution in town and she was determined that it stay that way. Which was why she’d come home after her father’s death to help her older sister, Pam, run the place.
As that reminder rolled through her mind, Amanda squared her shoulders and nodded briefly to herself. She hadn’t come home because of Nathan Battle. Even though a shiver swept through her at just the thought of his name, she discounted it as sense memory. Didn’t mean a thing. Her life was different now.
She was different now.
“Amanda, my love, when’re you going to marry me and run off to Jamaica?”
Startled out of her thoughts, Amanda smiled at the familiar voice and turned to look at Hank Bristow. At eighty, Hank was tall and thin and his skin was craggy from a lifetime spent in the sun. Now that his sons ran the family ranch, Hank spent most of his time in the diner, talking with his friends. His blue eyes twinkled as he held out his cup for a refill.
“Hank, you just love me for my coffee,” she told him, pouring a stream of the hot, fresh brew into his cup.
“A woman who can make good coffee?” Hank shook his head and said solemnly, “Worth her weight in gold.”
She smiled, patted his hand, then carried the carafe along the length of the counter, chatting with her customers, freshening coffee as she went. It was all so familiar. So…easy. She’d slid into life in Royal as smoothly as if she’d never left.
“Why did you order new menus?”
Okay, not completely smoothly. Amanda turned to face Pam. As usual, the shorter woman didn’t look happy with her. But then, the two of them had never been close. Not growing up. Not now. Even though Amanda had primarily come back to Royal because Pam had needed help running the diner. But, she supposed, needing help and wanting it were two different things.
Amanda walked the length of the counter again, and set the coffeepot down on the warmer before she answered.
“Because the old ones needed to be replaced,” she said. “The laminate was cracked and old and the menus themselves were outdated.” Catching the look of interest on Hank’s face, Amanda lowered her voice. “We don’t even serve half the things listed anymore, Pam.”
Her sister’s chin-length brown hair was tucked behind her ears. She wore a red T-shirt and jeans and a pair of scarlet sandals wrapped around her feet. She was tapping the toe of one sandal against the shining linoleum floor. “But our regular customers know that. They don’t need fancy new menus, Amanda.”
She sighed, but stood her ground. “They’re not fancy, Pam. They’re just not ratty.”
Pam hissed in a breath.
“Okay, sorry.” Amanda dug deep for patience and said, “We’re in this together, right? You said you needed help and I came home. The Altman sisters running the diner. Together.”
Pam thought about that for a long second before finally shrugging. “As long as you remember I didn’t ask you to come in and take over.”
“I’m
