with relief at the timely arrival of the Brenners. “In the garden room,” she called out.
When the elderly couple walked in and saw Denton, they pulled up short. “Sorry,” Zelma said. “Are we interrupting anything?”
Grace smiled. “Of course not.”
She introduced them, then watched as Denton smiled and shook their hands.
If ever two people appeared mismatched, it was Ed and Zelma. Ed was short and robust while Zelma was tall and thin. Though both were in their late seventies, they were full of boundless energy. Grace dreaded the day they left Ruby. She would miss them terribly, though they had already promised to return countless times.
“You’re going to love your stay here, Mr. Hardesty,” Zelma said, taking a seat across from Grace.
“I bet you’re right about that,” Denton said, smiling at Zelma.
Grace groaned inwardly as she watched him mesmerize the old lady. As a young man, he’d had plenty of charm. As a grown-up, he had perfected it and knew how to use it to his advantage.
With Ed and Zelma he was welcome to go all-out, to turn it on full blast if that would make him happy. As far as she was concerned, he was wasting his time. She planned to avoid him the entire length of his stay.
“Just wait till you taste her cooking,” Ed was saying. “It’s the best this side of heaven.”
Zelma made an unladylike noise, though there was a twinkle in her eye as her gaze landed on her husband. “Are you saying I can’t please you?”
“How would I know, honey bun? You haven’t ever tried.”
“Uh, right,” Zelma said with a blush. “Well, are you ever in for a surprise.”
He cut her a look. “I bet you can’t cook.”
“How’d you guess?”
They all chuckled, then Ed turned to Denton and asked, “You just passing through, young man?”
Grace looked on in silence as Denton explained about his vehicle. She tried not to concentrate on him, but it was hard. He was so easy to stare at she had to force her gaze away.
“Lucky man to have trouble in such an ideal spot,” Ed responded. “We’re both from Houston, but we’re thinking about pulling up stakes and moving here.”
Grace stared at them in amazement. “You are?”
“We’re talking about it,” Zelma said, sounding less enthusiastic.
Ed rested his gaze on Denton. “You couldn’t ask for life any easier. It’s sure nice not to hear the constant sounds of engines and horns. Instead you hear chirping birds and prattling insects.”
“That’s not Mr. Hardesty’s cup of tea,” Grace said without thought. “I’m sure he’ll be bored with all that serenity.”
Denton rested his intense gaze on her which made her want to squirm, but she didn’t.
“I’m counting on you to see that doesn’t happen,” he said in an easy drawl, in contrast to her rather sharp one.
Ed and Zelma exchanged looks before bouncing their gazes between Grace and Denton as if picking up on the undercurrents in the room.
Deciding it was time to call a halt to this little chat, Grace stood. “Kitchen duty calls.”
“I wish you’d let me help,” Zelma said.
Grace shook her head. “Not a chance.”
“Point me toward my room before you go, will you?” Denton asked, facing Grace.
“Now that I can do,” Zelma said, claiming Denton’s attention. “You just follow me.”
“Thanks,” Grace murmured, relieved she was spared being alone with Denton again. Her nerves were far too frayed to push her luck.
Ed shuffled toward them. “Wait for me.”
Several minutes later Zelma walked back into the kitchen.
“What did he say?” Grace asked.
“He thanked me, then said he was going across the street to check on his car.”
Grace merely nodded, her hands busy placing the fresh fruit on the tray.
“So what’s with you two?” Zelma asked, a slight twitter in her tone.
Grace’s head popped up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Now, honey, you can’t fool this old fuddy-duddy. I know when electricity’s crackling between two people.”
“You’re imagining things.”
Zelma eyed her carefully. “I don’t think so, but for now I’ll mind my own business. But when you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.” She paused with a wink. “I’ll meet you back in the garden room.”
Grace sagged against the counter, her heart beating far too hard and fast against her chest.
“It won’t be long now, Mr. Hardesty, and I’ll have you up and running.”
Denton put his sunglasses on, then stared at the mechanic. “So you think you found the problem?”
“I know I have. It’s just taking a tad longer than I thought to fix it.”
“No problem. You take all the time you need.”
Raymond gave him a puzzled look. “You mean you ain’t in no hurry?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Raymond rubbed his slightly grizzled chin. “Whatever you say.”
Denton slapped a couple of bills in Raymond’s hand then turned and headed back across the street.
A few minutes later he was opening the door to his room when a man strode by without so much as a nod. Strange-looking dude, Denton thought, comparing the stranger to someone out of a Star Wars movie. He was tall and thin to the point of gauntness. A hank of dark hair hung over his left eye.
He certainly didn’t appear as if he belonged at Grace House, but then neither did he, Denton reminded himself scathingly.
Once he was in his room, he walked to the window and peered out at the front lawn. Though glorious beauty filled his vision, he failed to appreciate it, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a roll of antacids. After popping one in his mouth and chewing it, he released a deep sigh, then turned and stared at the antique four-poster bed with a step stool enabling a person to climb aboard. He smiled with no humor.
What the hell was he doing here? Had he lost his mind?
Yes.
No
