Connie rolled her eyes as if to say Neil Rankin wouldn’t know what real work was. “He’s probably in there throwing darts.”
Clementine’s brows arched upward. “Why? Is he angry?”
Connie laughed. “Angry? Are you kidding? I’ve never seen that man even raise his voice. He’s practicing his dart game for a tournament down at Indian Wells. That’s a local bar and grill. First prize gets you free beer for a year.”
She motioned toward the door marked Private. “Go on in. I just made him a fresh pot of coffee. And there’re doughnuts, too.”
“Thanks,” Clementine told her and knocked lightly before she opened the door to Neil Rankin’s office.
As Connie had predicted, the lawyer was drinking coffee and throwing darts at a board on the wall.
“Come in,” he called as he walked over to the dart board and plucked one from the center of the target. “I’ll be right with you.”
“It’s only me, Neil.”
The sound of her voice caused him to jerk with surprise and he quickly turned and hurried over. The smile on his face said he was truly glad to see her and she was relieved. It was no secret that the relationship between Neil and Quito had been a long, close one. She couldn’t blame Neil if he hated her for hurting his friend.
“Clementine! How great to see you!”
Neil was a tall man with a handsomely chiseled face. Compared to Quito’s rugged build, he was slender, but well put together and his dark blond hair was naturally streaked and fell across his forehead in a boyish fashion. He’d been single when she’d been living here and from the looks of his empty ring finger he was still that way. It was hard to believe some woman hadn’t snared him before now, she thought. But then, maybe he’d been burned as she’d been burned. Maybe he never wanted to think about the word love.
He took both her hands and gave them a warm squeeze. Clementine couldn’t help but smile at him. “Hello, Neil.”
Neil positioned a cushioned chair in front of his desk and helped her into it. “I was just drinking my morning coffee. Let me get you a cup,” he said.
She’d already had two cups at the Wagon Wheel, but now that she was here she wanted to appear sociable. “That would be nice. Thank you,” she told him.
He walked over to the coffeemaker and picked up a glass cup. “I’ll give you good china,” he said with a wink. “Connie says I shouldn’t give a lady a cup of coffee in a foam cup. Cream or sugar?”
“Cream please.”
The lawyer carried it over to her and she smiled wryly as she accepted the cup and saucer. “At least you think I’m a lady,” she said.
Frowning, he rested his hips on the front of the desk. “Now why would you say that? I’ve always considered you a lady.”
A blush crept across her face. “Well, I don’t imagine you’ve had too many good thoughts of me since I left Aztec. You and Quito were such good friends.”
He shrugged. “And we still are. I don’t put the entire blame on your breakup with you. You were very young then, Clementine. Quito should have realized that and—well, let’s not get into all that. Tell me what you’re doing with the house?”
Neil walked around the desk and eased down in a leather chair. Clementine sipped her coffee and tried to get comfortable. “I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it first. I knew you’d be honest with me. As to whether I should sell or rent.”
Thoughtful, he rubbed a thumb and forefinger across his dented chin. “The place has been empty for a long time. Years, in fact. Why have you suddenly decided to do something with it?”
Clementine breathed deeply. “Believe me, Neil, my decision isn’t sudden. I’ve had the place on my mind for a long while. But I—” She couldn’t continue. She couldn’t admit to this old friend that she’d been afraid to return to Aztec, afraid of facing Quito and all that had happened between them. “I’ve been busy with one thing and another,” she finished.
He smiled understandingly. “Well, the years have certainly been kind to you, Clementine. You haven’t aged a day. You’re still just as pretty as ever.”
“And it sounds like you’re still the flirt and flatterer that I remember,” she teased.
Neil chuckled and then his expression turned serious. “I thought that you might have come back because of Quito. You must have heard he nearly died.”
The news was such a slam to her stomach she actually pressed her hand against her midsection. Incredulous, she stared at him. “Nearly died? But how? Why?”
“Someone tried to murder him. It happened out on highway 544. Someone drove up beside him and pumped three nine millimeter slugs into the side of his vehicle. Two of the bullets hit Quito and did a lot of damage. He only got released from the hospital about two or three weeks ago.”
So that’s why he’d looked a little pale, she thought. And all the time he’d been standing beside her table, she’d been thinking his ashen color had been a result of seeing her again. Clementine should have known better than to think she’d had that much effect on the man.
Still stunned, she slowly shook her head. “No—I—I hadn’t heard about Quito. In fact, I just saw him over at the Wagon Wheel. He stopped by my table to say hello.” A pained expression crossed her face. “He didn’t say anything about being shot!”
Neil shrugged. “No. Quito wouldn’t say anything. He’s not the sort to go around talking about himself.”
Or to her, she thought, sadly.
“I noticed he was still wearing his badge and gun. So apparently he’s not giving up the job of sheriff,” she said to Neil.
Leaning back in his chair, Neil folded his arms across his chest and thoughtfully eyed her troubled face. “Why, Clementine, you sound as if you still care about our brave sheriff.”
Trying to keep any sort of emotion from her face, Clementine reached down and pulled a set of thick papers from the briefcase she’d carried in with her handbag.
“Here’s the abstract and deed for the house and land,” she said stiffly. “Once you have a chance to read it over you can contact me at the Apache Junction.”
Clementine rose to her feet and walked out before the lawyer collected himself enough to make any sort of reply.
Once she was outside and sitting in her car, she finally let her guard down. With a heavy sigh, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel and closed her eyes.
Clementine, you sound as if you still care about our brave sheriff.
What made Neil think she still had feelings for Quito Perez, she wondered bitterly. Eleven years was a long time. Love didn’t last that long. Not for anybody.
Chapter Two
After Clementine
