Randall Riches. Judy Christenberry
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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.
Chapter Four
Samantha knocked on Rich’s hotel room door the next morning. She’d gotten the number from the man at the registration desk.
She didn’t hear any sound from inside. She pounded louder. “Rich? Are you all right?” Then she pounded again.
She decided to get the manager to open the door. As she was leaving, however, she heard a faint voice.
“Yeah?”
“Rich? Are you all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you awake? It’s seven-thirty. I’m going to the café for breakfast. Are you coming?”
“Uh, yeah. I gotta get dressed.”
He must’ve taken the pill she’d given him last night. He sounded a little fuzzy this morning. “If you know what you want for breakfast, I can go ahead and order for you.”
“Okay, coffee, a short stack, scrambled eggs, bacon.”
And there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, she marveled. Not that she’d noticed, she assured herself. “Okay. Come as soon as you can so it won’t get cold.” Then she headed for the café.
The same waitress was on duty. “You worked last night and this morning, too?” Sam asked her as she sat down.
“I have to. My husband is sick. He lost his job. I’m the only one bringing in any money,” the lady said with a weary smile.
Sam gave her their orders. She brought a pot of coffee to the table at once along with two clean cups.
Sam poured herself some coffee. She didn’t often indulge, which made the times she did even more enjoyable.
She watched the waitress stop at another table. She often told herself she was better off without family. The waitress’s situation reinforced that decision. She tucked the thought in the back of her mind to pull out when she got low. Sometimes she felt so totally alone.
Rich came in, still looking sleepy, dressed in those split jeans and a clean T-shirt. And he still looked good.
“Morning,” she said cheerfully. But she didn’t say anything else. She couldn’t get used to having someone to talk to in the morning or she’d miss him tomorrow when she was alone again.
“Coffee,”