Randall Riches

“Probably. You go make the arrangements and I’ll get her out.”

He frowned. “You’d better let me. She’s not used to you.”

“Why not? I put her in there this morning.”

“I thought Gabe put her in?” he asked in surprise.

“No, he left yesterday. I just barely caught him.”

She stopped the truck and opened her door.

“Wait a minute. Why did you load her? I thought you were going to hire someone. Why didn’t you?”

“I hired a couple of guys to help me hook up the trailer. But Bella is beautifully mannered. I didn’t need any help for that.”

“But I—”

“If you’re worried about the money, I have it.” She slipped out of the truck and dug into one of her jeans pockets. “Here it is. I used some to buy the pillows, too. And the gas.”

He looked at the bills she handed him. Two one-hundred-dollar bills were there.

“What did you pay the guys for hitching up?”

“Fifty to split. Too much?”

He shook his head. “Nope. A bargain.”

She said nothing, heading to the back of the trailer.

He got out and started toward the office, but he looked back to see if she could manage Bella okay. She was right about Bella’s manners…if she liked the person. If not, she could be difficult. But she was on her best behavior today.

No wonder. Sam was petting and stroking her, using that sexy voice. He recognized envy in his thoughts. Ridiculous! All he was interested in was getting home.

Inside, he paid for Bella’s stay and then went out to help Sam put her in a corral and toss her some hay.

“We can get rooms next door,” he pointed out as they left Bella.

“She’ll be safe?”

“Yeah. There’s someone on duty all night.”

She got behind the wheel of the truck and drove the few yards to the hotel. There was a café attached that had decent food. After dinner, Rich was looking forward to stretching out on a soft bed that didn’t move.

“After we get the rooms, we can eat in the café.” He was sure she was tired, too. She’d driven over ten hours without many breaks.

“I don’t need a room.”

He frowned. “Of course you need a room.”

“I don’t want to spend my money on a room.”

“It’s my money you’ll be spending,” he pointed out.

“No, I won’t. I pay my own way.”

“Consider it pay for doing your job,” he said, sure that would settle the matter.

“No.”

“What’s wrong with you, woman? You expect to camp out?”

“No. I’ll sleep in the cab of the truck.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” He was becoming perturbed. “You’ll be uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t the past two nights.” She slung her shoulder bag onto her shoulder and got out of the truck. “I’ll save you a seat in the café.” Then she closed the truck door and walked toward the restaurant.

He sat there with his mouth open. The last two nights? He’d assumed she had an apartment somewhere. Why hadn’t she used it? When he realized he was wasting time, he marched inside the hotel and got a room. He checked to be sure they had more rooms in case Miss Hardhead changed her mind.

Then he strode toward the café next door. He was glad it was close. Even though he had a walking cast, his ankle still hurt every time he put weight on his right side. But he walked quickly.

Sam was sitting in a booth, the hair around her face damp. When he appeared at the table, she asked. “Is decaf coffee all right?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m going to wash up.”

When he got back, the waitress was chatting with Sam. He slid in the booth.

“Do you need some time, honey, to check the menu?” she asked.

“Nope. I’ll take a cheeseburger with fries, and a big piece of apple pie afterward. They have good pie, Sam.”

“I’ve already ordered,” she said calmly.

“Did you order pie?”

“No.”

“Bring her a piece of pie, too,” he said to the waitress. The woman looked at Sam, and she shook her head, still smiling.

Then she looked at Rich. “I can order for myself, thank you.”

He considered fighting that battle. Then he decided she was right. She had the right to order for herself. Besides, he wanted some answers to his questions.

When the waitress left, he asked, “What do you mean you slept in the truck the last two nights? Why? Didn’t you have your own place in Flagstaff?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you sleep in your own bed.”

She took a drink of water. He noticed she hadn’t ordered a soda or coffee. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Brad was there.”

His stomach clinched. She had a boyfriend? Or a husband? “Who’s Brad?”

“The owner of The Hot Skillet.”

“The one who fired you?” he asked, frowning. “You lived with him?”

“No.”

“Then why was he there?”

“He was parked outside.”

The waitress returned with his cheeseburger and a chef’s salad for Sam.

“That’s all you ordered?”

She looked surprised. “Yes.”

“You and Brad had a thing going?”

“No. His wife died last month.”

“His wife? I don’t get it. Why was he there? And why did that mean you couldn’t go home?”

“He’d decided I should be wife number five.”

“His wife died a month ago and he’s already looking for his next wife?”

“Yes. And I didn’t cotton to the idea especially since it seems his wife died under suspicious circumstances. I slept in the truck so he wouldn’t find me.” She took a bite of salad. “He stayed until eleven the next morning, so I couldn’t get to my things until he left.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“It was easier to wait.”

She continued eating as if they’d been discussing the weather. He sat silently, thinking about what she’d faced alone. Did it happen often? She was certainly attractive.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

“For what?” she asked in surprise.

“I was rude about you taking so long to pack. Where is your luggage, by the way?”

“I put it in your storage trunk in the back of the truck when I loaded your gear. I hope you don’t mind.”

“There was enough room?”

She nodded, but it was the smile on her lips that fascinated Rich.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.”

“So Brad is the reason you decided to leave town?”

She nodded again.

“But your friends—”

“I’d only been there since the last of February, Rich. It’s no big deal.”

“But what if you can’t find a job in Rawhide?”

She smiled again. “Don’t panic. I take care of myself. If I can’t find a job, I’ll move on.”

Once, when he’d been irritated with his parents, and even his twin, Russ, he’d wished he didn’t have a family, that he could be all alone. In his juvenile imagination, he’d thought that would be a good thing. Now, he ached for the woman across from him. No family. No friends. Totally alone, no one to rely on.

“That’s a tough life.”

She shook her head, still calm. “It was worse when my father was alive.”

“Worse? How?”

She sighed, then nodded at his plate. “You’d better eat your cheeseburger before it gets cold. Besides, I think you’re going to need another pill tonight.”

“No, I don’t. Two in one day is enough.”

“I’m not sure.”

He realized she’d distracted him from her strange answer. He couldn’t imagine life without his father and mother, his brothers, his huge family. They all lived on the ranch outside Rawhide. Well, actually, some of his cousins were down in Laramie attending college. But there were still a lot of Randalls around.

“When did your dad die?” he asked, after taking a bite.

“When I was sixteen.”

“So…last year?”

“You think flattery will get you whatever you want, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“I guess not,” she agreed, but she didn’t say anything else.

“Okay, I’ll be more direct. How old are you?”

“None of your business.” She said the words pleasantly, but Rich could hear the steel in them.

“Why are you so secretive?” he demanded.

“Because you’re not a friend. I hardly know you. It doesn’t pay to tell your business to strangers. I’m driving you to Wyoming. That’s it. I’ll be on my way tomorrow after I get you home.”

He didn’t like the thought of that. She was too pretty and young to wander around without any protection. But she was right about him getting tired. He decided to talk to her about the dangers of her lifestyle tomorrow in the truck. They’d have plenty of time.

The waitress arrived with his pie. He ate it slowly, finding himself filled up on the cheeseburger. But he had to finish it after making a big deal about it to Sam.

As he took the last bite, the waitress returned with their bill. He was surprised but relieved when Sam didn’t reach for the ticket. At last, she was accepting his providing for her. Next, she’d agree to take a room.

Looking at the total, he called the waitress back. “You forgot to put her salad on the bill.”

“No, sir. She paid before you got here.”

He glared at Sam. “You did what?”

“Let’s not argue in front of everyone, Rich.” She slid from the booth, thanking the waitress again. Rich noted she’d left some money for a tip.

He handed the waitress a twenty and told her to keep the change. He knew they didn’t do much business.

Then he hurried after Sam, catching her arm to stop her outside. “Why did you pay for your food yourself?”

“I told you I take care of myself. I handled it like that because I knew you’d make a fuss.”

“Woman, you’re trying my temper!”

“I’m tired, Rich. Just go to bed.”

“Come on, then. They’ve got enough rooms. I’ll get you one.”

“No. I need to save my money. I’ll sleep in the truck.” She pulled her arm out of his clutches and headed for the truck.

He stared after her, unable to believe she could be so hardheaded. Then she stopped and turned around, coming back to him.

“I forgot.” She pulled the pills out of her pocket and took one out. “Here’s a pill, in case your foot starts hurting. What time do you want to leave in the morning?”

“I suppose eight o’clock. We’re about eight or nine hours away. Unless you’re too tired to get up that early.”

“That will be fine.” Then she walked away.

Rich stared after her, frustrated. He didn’t have a sister, but he had girl cousins. And he wouldn’t let any of them sleep in the truck when there were empty rooms available. But he had no choice. He could rent every room available and it wouldn’t matter. Sam was going to sleep in the truck.

What was he going to do with her?

That was something else he’d worry about tomorrow.

Once in his room, he undressed and stretched out on the bed. His foot was throbbing. After a moment’s debate, he decided to take the pill Sam had given him. He’d cut back tomorrow.

After swallowing the pill, he reached for the phone and dialed home, wanting to give his parents warning of his imminent arrival.

His mother answered. “Rich! How are you?”

“Fine, Mom. I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, young man. Gabe called us.”

“Ah. Well, I had an accident. I broke my ankle, but it will be good as new in six weeks.”

“Oh, dear. Is it painful?”

“It’s not bad.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m on the Utah-Wyoming border. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“You’re not driving, are you? Gabe said your fiancée was with you. Have you got something to tell us?”

Rich rubbed his forehead. He was feeling very groggy. “Uh, no. Just Sam.”

“What?”

“Just Sam,” he said again. But he noticed he slurred his words.

“Rich? You don’t sound good. Are you all right?”

“Took my medicine.”

“Is—is that woman with you?”

“No, just Sam.”

“Tell him to take good care of you.”

“Yes, Mom. Gotta go.”

He replaced the receiver, falling into a deep sleep the minute he closed his eyes.

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