Snowbound Sweetheart. Judy Christenberry
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“Brad and I don’t have secrets,” Kathy assured him, looking at the card doubtfully, her hand creeping across her stomach.
“Are you all right?” he asked, watching her.
“Yes. Lately my stomach’s been a little unsettled. But I’m just not sure about—”
“Just for once, do what I ask. It won’t hurt anything to have a resource Brad doesn’t know about. If you don’t ever use it, it won’t matter. But I’ll feel better. Do it for me.”
He breathed a sigh of relief when she finally took the charge card.
“Do you have a place to hide it?”
“I’ll just put it in my billfold.”
“No! No, let’s find another place.” He took her into her bedroom. “How about taped to the bottom of this mirror thing,” he suggested, pointing to a mirror tray on her dresser.
“Okay.”
She got some tape and did as he requested. Then he asked to borrow a couple of pillows and several blankets. “Just in case we run into bad weather. And maybe a jug of drinking water.”
He hoped distracting her from what she’d just done would make her forget her objections.
Half an hour later, Lindsay rapped on Kathy’s door again. Because she wasn’t an idiot, she’d exchanged her heels for loafers. But she carried her heels with her, in a tote bag, so she could put them on before she got out of the car when she got home.
Her suit, a fashionable teal green with gold buttons, didn’t wrinkle, and though the skirt was narrow, it was short enough for her to maneuver stairs. She’d be fine in it.
The cowboy didn’t know what he was talking about. Just like her brothers.
The door opened and the man in her thoughts stood there, his arms full of pillows, blankets and a thermos as well as a duffel bag. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She’d already loaded everything she was taking into her car. Her trunk space was minimal. She wasn’t even sure his duffel bag would fit.
“Aren’t you taking any luggage?”
She sighed. “I’ve already loaded my things.”
“I would’ve been glad to carry them for you.”
She wanted to go ballistic on him, letting him know that a woman could manage on her own. She didn’t need a Neanderthal following her around, using his muscles on her behalf. But she realized he was just trying to be polite, even if stereotypical, and instead, she simply said, “Not necessary.”
Kathy was just behind her brother. “Gil, be careful, please, and call me after you’ve gotten home.”
“I will.” He hesitated, then said, “Say hello to Brad for me. Sorry I couldn’t stay to visit with him.”
Kathy turned a bright red. “I—I’d rather not say you came. If I do, I’d have to tell him you came because I cried, and he’ll be upset.”
Lindsay watched the interplay between brother and sister with curiosity. Kathy’s words didn’t please Gil, but he didn’t argue with her. “Your decision.”
“Thanks, Gil. Have a happy Thanksgiving.” Kathy hugged her brother’s neck, almost dislodging everything he carried. He kissed her cheek and turned to Lindsay.
“Let’s go.”
Like he was in charge.
“Bye, Kathy. Thanks for taking care of my plants.”
“I’ll see you in a few days,” Kathy agreed with a smile, but the others noted the tears in her eyes.
Lindsay pressed the elevator button, hoping one would arrive quickly. Prolonged goodbyes were difficult, and Kathy seemed to be having problems with this one.
“Go on back in and get some rest, baby. We’re on our way,” Gil insisted.
“No, I—”
The dinging of a bell signifying the arrival of an elevator stopped her. Lindsay waved and quickly stepped on, followed by Gil.
“Aren’t you taking a coat? That jacket doesn’t look heavy enough to keep you warm.”
Lindsay waited until they reached the lobby. Once she was out of the elevator, out of the confined space with the man, she turned around and faced him. “Let’s get something straight before we start. I am not your sister. Nor do I need a keeper. This is my car, my trip. You can come along, as long as you understand I’m in charge! Got it?”
Gil squared his jaw and considered walking away from this stubborn woman. He could take a hotel room and wait out the storm.
But he really wanted to get home.
Before he made up his mind, she spoke again. “I’m sorry if that sounded rude, but I don’t like someone hovering over me. If we’re going to be in a car together for fifteen hours, I thought it would be better to clear the air now.”
In even tones, hiding his irritation, he said, “Fair enough.” Then he stood there, waiting for her to lead the way.
It seemed to take a minute for her to realize he was waiting on her. Snapping her chin into the air, she turned and headed through the door that led to the parking garage.
Again he reconsidered his decision when he saw her car. A Miata. He was going to be trapped in a small car for fifteen hours with a feminist—a touchy feminist—which was like a cowboy being cornered by a bull with a hatred for humans. Unmanageable.
“The trunk is full,” she muttered. “But I think all your things can go in the back seat.”
What back seat? There was a narrow ledge behind the front two seats. But he wasn’t about to argue. He stuffed everything where she said. Then he pulled off his denim, fleece-lined coat and laid it on top. It occurred to him again to ask where her coat was, and whether she shouldn’t put it inside the car, too. But there was no way he was risking another pithy lecture.
Then he squeezed himself into the passenger seat. Damn, he was going to feel like a pretzel by the time they reached Oklahoma.
“Please fasten your seat belt,” she reminded him.
Oh, yeah, he didn’t want to forget that little thing. A woman driver who had taken an instant dislike to him? No, he didn’t want to take any more chances.
The minute they pulled out of the parking garage into city traffic, Gil knew the trip was going to take longer than expected. The roads were jammed, filled with impatient drivers using their horns to indicate their frustration.
“Crowded today,” he said, casually watching Lindsay out of the corner of his eye.
She was frowning, but as far as he could tell, she was in control. “I’ve never