style="font-size:15px;"> She heard his gruff sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re not coming to dinner…”
“Sorry, but I can’t.” Didn’t dare was more like it, but she decided to keep that to herself.
The pause was so long and complete that, for a moment, she thought they’d been disconnected. Then Lamont said, “Is everything okay?”
Pursing her lips, she resisted the urge to say, “Jim hasn’t killed any flies lately…that I know of.” Stop being such a pessimist, she scolded herself. He’s only asking out of friendly concern for you. “Yes, everything is fine.”
“Guess you’re just busy, eh, what with the kids home again and all. Well, here’s an idea. How about if I bring the steaks over there? I have more than enough for—”
“No.” If she sounded abrupt and cold to herself, how must she have sounded to Lamont? But it wasn’t fair to punish him for the mess her life was in. Wasn’t fair to assume that he was like Ernest, just because he’d shown signs of having a fierce temper. “It’s just—I have a lot to do,” she added, taking care to soften her tone. “Beds to make and—”
“No need to get all defensive with me, Nadine. I understand.”
But his tone told her just the opposite.
“We’ll do it another time,” he added.
Was he waiting for her to agree, perhaps even suggest a day and time? Had she read him right, after all? The very thought filled her with fear and dread, because even if she hadn’t made that ludicrous promise to herself, Ernest was the only man she’d ever dated. Besides, no way she could even begin to compete with the bevy of beauties who surrounded Lamont everywhere he went. “I—I’d better go,” she said. “Julie volunteered to make supper, using an old recipe she found in one of my cookbooks. I promised to make her a list of the ingredients and—”
“Well,” he interrupted, “better get a-move on, myself. But don’t worry your pretty head about these thick juicy steaks going to waste. And don’t give a thought to li’l ol’ me, grilling and eating them all by my lonesome.”
His good-natured teasing wafted into her ear, and she laughed softly. “When I say my devotions later, I’ll be sure to thank God.”
“For what?”
“For making you so big and strong and brave.” Instantly, she regretted the coy comeback.
“Not so big and brave that I don’t feel like a weak knobby-kneed young’un, missin’ the daylights outta his best girl.”
Nadine’s heart ached. Because “what she wanted” and “the right thing to do” were miles apart. “I’m sorry if you went to any trouble with—”
“Hey, you’re no trouble, kiddo. No trouble at all.” He paused. “But even if you were? Trust me, you’d be worth it.”
Hang up, Nadine! Just hang up before you run over there and throw yourself into his arms! “Well,” she muttered, “g’bye, then.”
“See you soon, I hope,” he said, and hung up.
And if Julie and Amy hadn’t burst into the kitchen just then, she probably would have sat right down on the floor and cried like a brokenhearted little girl.
Because that’s exactly how she felt.
Hours later, Lamont was still pacing his big country kitchen, head down and hands in his pockets.
Just last night, Nadine had seemed reasonably excited about his dinner invitation. What had changed between then and now? Had he violated some unwritten rule? Did she expect him to call sooner? More than once? “Women,” he muttered, shaking his head. “The man who can figure ’em out will be a multitrillionaire for sure.”
He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge, pocketing the screw top as he strode into the family room. Settled in his recliner, Lamont picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV. The chair’s well-worn brown leather squeaked in protest as he shifted his six-foot frame. Not even his favorite chair felt comfortable tonight.
Lamont pictured her as she’d looked last night, face aglow in the moonlight and blushing like a teenager as she reminded him that they both had to get up early.
“Doesn’t take a brick to fall on my head,” he’d joked. “I can take a hint.”
“No,” she’d said, giggling, “you can’t. I’ve been dropping hints for the past hour!” Then, as if worried that she might have embarrassed him, Nadine said, “Drive safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Well, it was tomorrow, and he didn’t mind admitting to himself what a letdown it had been when she’d canceled on him.
Obnoxious padded into the room, rested his chin on Lamont’s knees and whimpered. From the time he was a pup, the mutt had been attuned to his master’s moods. “Don’t worry, boy,” Lamont said, ruffling his fur, “your old man is fine, just fine.” He got to his feet. “How ’bout we fire up the grill? Who needs a woman around, changing her mind? Besides, we can’t let perfectly good beef go to waste, can we?”
Obnoxious’s ears perked up, and he answered with a breathy bark.
As Lamont flipped the steaks over the open fire, the dog sat watching, waiting patiently, grinning doggy-style. “Wonder if you’d be smilin’ if you knew you were second choice as my dinner companion,” Lamont said, cutting one steak into bite-sized cubes.
Obnoxious tilted his head, fuzzy brows rising as if he’d understood.
“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, boy?”
The dog responded with a quiet yip.
Half an hour later, as Lamont scraped the bony leftovers of their meal into the trash can, he remembered the cool tone in Nadine’s voice. Yeah, the truth hurt, all right, and hopefully, when he shaved in the morning, it wouldn’t stare boldly back at him from the mirror.
The weeks dragged by slower than a donkey-pulled plow. Since Nadine had canceled “steak night,” Lamont had been short-tempered with the ranch hands, and pretty much anyone else who crossed his path, too. His daughter, Lily, had a knack for teasing him out of a foul mood, but in good conscience he couldn’t interrupt the new bride’s zeal to get her house in order, especially not over something that was little more than a foolish infatuation.
Lamont gave some thought to changing Obnoxious’s name to Oblivious, because if the mutt had noticed his master’s beastly behavior, it sure didn’t show. The dog ran circles around him now, leaping and yipping like a puppy as Lamont threw a blanket over the back of his favorite horse. “Long ride on a good horse will cure what ails a man,” he said, cinching the saddle.
He’d barely slid his boot into Barney’s stirrup when his cell phone rang. Lamont would’ve ignored it if it hadn’t been Nadine’s number on the caller ID. Instantly, his spirits lifted, as if a spring breeze had blown his foul mood deep into the dark and distant winter.
“Hey, there, pretty lady!”
A rascally chuckle crackled through the connection,
