Before she’d arrived and even into her first couple of weeks here, she’d have been pleased if he decided to take her away from this place. But that wasn’t the way she felt now. She needed to finish this, needed to see it through. She was actually learning about the ranch now, and she desperately wanted him to notice that. And it was making her a nervous wreck.
“I’d love to try the local food,” Richard said with what she thought was his first genuine smile since his arrival.
“Great!”
The two of them walked toward her front drive, where his fancy rental SUV was sitting. She would give just about anything to ride in the nice leather seats and with actual air conditioning blasting from the vents, but the devilish side of her wanted to give her father a taste of his own medicine.
“We’ll take my truck, Father. After all, you got it for me,” she said with a wide-eyed smile.
Richard looked over at the rusty orange heap, and she could see that he had serious doubts about getting in, but she had to give the man credit. He didn’t argue; he just wrenched open the troublesome passenger door and climbed up onto the ripped vinyl.
“I’m sorry, Brielle. I didn’t realize this truck was in such poor condition,” he muttered when she finally managed to get the engine started.
“Don’t worry about it, Dad. She runs fine,” Brielle said. No. She hadn’t had a change of heart where the truck was concerned. She hated the temperamental thing, but if she had to endure riding around in it, she was going to make sure her father got the same privilege.
He said something under his breath that she didn’t quite catch, but she just smiled as she threw the truck into drive and went down the bumpy road just a little too fast. The ride into town was a teeth-jarring one, and Brielle couldn’t be sure, but she could almost swear she saw her father send up a little prayer of thanks when they parked in front of the diner.
“I hope we get a table. It seems everyone comes to town for lunch on really hot days,” Brielle said, more cheery than she’d been all day. Though the only air conditioning in her old Ford was the 2-60 kind, where the wind ripped through the cab with the two windows down while the truck was traveling at sixty miles per hour, she still felt refreshed. She’d bet her trust fund that he’d never had such an uncomfortable ride in his whole life. Payback was swell.
“Business is clearly hopping,” Richard said as they stepped through the doors and she took in the crowd of chattering people.
Sure enough, there wasn’t a single table left. Damn. There was no other restaurant in town, so they’d have to go to the market and pick up sandwich stuff, maybe have a picnic at the town park. But it could be worse. The park was actually quite simple and beautiful, with a pretty water fountain, a jungle gym for kids, and a few picnic tables. It was always peaceful, and the breeze wouldn’t make it so bad to eat outside if they found a little shade.
As they started to leave, a voice stopped them. “Brielle, come join us.”
Turning back around, Brielle saw the three women she’d met in the clothing store not long after she’d arrived in town. They were sitting at an oversized booth and all gesturing for her to come over.
Oh no. What if they brought up that embarrassing incident with Colt in the store dressing room, and her father caught on? That was all she needed. But it would be more than rude if she didn’t at least go over and say hello.
Taking her dad’s arm, she led him to the table where three sets of clear eyes looked them both over. She prayed she’d get their names right. “Dad, I met these nice women when I was still pretty new in town. I’d like to introduce Bethel, Eileen, and Maggie. Ladies, this is my father, Richard Storm.”
When the women beamed in acknowledgment, Brielle let out a sigh of relief. If she’d butchered their names, they surely would have said something.
“Please join us for lunch,” Bethel said, and she scooted over to make room.
“Oh, we couldn’t do that,” Brielle replied. “We’re going to grab something from the market.”
“Nonsense. You don’t want to miss out on Pamela’s lunch special,” Eileen told them while scooting in on the opposite side of the table. There was now plenty of room for Brielle and her father to join them, and if she said no again, her manners would be considered seriously lacking.
“We’d love to join three lovely ladies,” Richard said, and he took the seat next to Bethel.
Brielle was shocked when she saw the woman’s cheeks turn pink. Gosh. Was flirting in the air? Brielle just plopped onto the seat next to Eileen.
“I’m so sorry we haven’t gotten back out to see you sooner, Brielle,” Bethel told her. “We were planning on coming out last week and bringing you pie, but one of the ladies at church got sick, and we ended up taking care of her dogs.”
“You don’t have to bring me anything,” Brielle replied.
“Well, of course we do, darling,” Eileen said. “You’re a single lady up in that big old ranch house all alone. We have to take care of you.”
And now Maggie spoke. “Yes, and I want you to come over for our midsummer celebration next week. I always plan on sending out formal invites, but no one really needs them. They already know we put on a great picnic and show by our lake.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Brielle said, shifting in her seat and more than grateful when the waitress came up and told her and her father about the special. She ordered it without much thought since she was concentrating so hard on what the women were chatting to her father about.
“Try the sweet tea. It’s fabulous,” Eileen said. Brielle and her father complied, and Eileen was right. It was just about the most perfect drink possible on a hot day.
“How is Colt doing?” Bethel asked with a sly look pointed Brielle’s way.
Her father stopped mid-sip and looked at her. “Who’s Colt?” He looked more curious than accusing, but Brielle was sure the red suffusing her cheeks didn’t help her look less guilty.
“He’s one of the ranch hands,” she told her father before turning to Bethel. “He’s fine. All the workers are great.” She really hoped the woman took the hint she was sending.
“From the rumors I’ve heard, he’s more than just a ranch hand,” Bethel said, and Brielle hung her head. The woman obviously didn’t know how to read body language. Dammit. Brielle was practically screaming at her to quit speaking.