Читать книгу An Accidental Hero - Loree Lough - Страница 10

Reid stood beside his rumpled bed, staring at the napkin bearing Cammi’s name and phone number. Thinking about her had kept him up most of the night. Shaking his head, he slapped the napkin onto the nightstand, because there didn’t seem to be a single legitimate reason to call her.

Couldn’t use the car repairs as an excuse, because he’d already told her the mechanic wouldn’t have time to assess the damage until Monday, at the earliest. Couldn’t say the tow truck driver needed information, because she already knew their vehicles had been delivered to Wilson’s Garage.

What was wrong with honesty? he wondered. Why not just tell her he enjoyed her company and wanted to see her again. He could suggest a movie, or a quiet dinner, someplace where he could get to know her better.

Reid held the receiver in one hand, the napkin in the other, then noticed that his alarm clock said five-thirty. Groaning, he blew a stream of air through his teeth. What was he thinking? Not everyone got up with the cock’s crow! She’d driven all the way from L.A. to Amarillo and had had a car wreck, all in one day. Surely she’d be sawing logs at this hour.

Still, he thought, palming the napkin once more, hadn’t she said this was her cell phone number? More than likely, it was turned off and recharging. He could leave a message, and if she didn’t return the call, he could tell himself it had somehow been lost in cyberspace….

Holding his breath, Reid punched in the digits. After three interminably long rings, her lyrical voice said, “Hi. This is Cammi.”

He could almost see her, smiling, bobbing her head, big eyes flashing as she recorded the message. The mental picture distracted him so much that he didn’t hear the beep. “Uh, hey, Cammi. It’s Reid. Reid Alexander. From last night, and, uh, y’know, the accident?” He looked at his watch. “It’s just past five-thirty, Saturday morning and, well, I was just wondering if…”

What if he suggested a date and she rejected him? “…if there’s anything I forgot. Y’know, phone numbers, or…whatever. So, call if you need anything.” He rattled off his cell phone number, even though he had seen her tuck the napkin he’d written it on into the front pocket of her purse. Reid glanced at his watch again. “I hope you’re okay, ’cause, well, I’ve heard that sometimes a person doesn’t feel the after-affects of an accident till the next day, or even the day after that.” He rubbed his face and winced. “I hear-tell aspirin is good for what ails you.” Shut up, you idiot! he told himself. “Anyway, I hope you’re all right. Thanks and—”

“You’re welcome. And I’m fine. How’re you?”

He felt like a colossal birdbrain, a jerk, a sappy blockheaded schoolboy. He could only hope Cammi didn’t agree. “I, uh, thought I was leaving a message.” No wonder he hadn’t heard a beep!

“I got into the habit of answering the phone that way, so I’d sound in demand in case a producer ever called.”

When she giggled, Reid’s heart beat double time.

“I guess since I’m no longer in demand, I can start saying a simple ‘hello’ like everybody else, huh?”

Another merry giggle tickled his ear. He wanted to say, First of all, you’re not like everybody else. Instead, Reid said, “You’re very much in demand, at least by one beat-up cowboy.”

Her tiny gasp made him grin. Would she be sitting there, wide-eyed, one hand over her mouth? he wondered.

“You’re up awfully early.”

“Early? Should’ve been up and out half an hour ago,” he said, glad she hadn’t hung up despite his long-winded “message” and his blatant flirtation. “But what’re you doing up at this hour, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Her sigh filtered through the wires, kissing his eardrum. Reid shivered involuntarily.

“No specific reason,” Cammi said. “I just have… There’s a lot to be done today.”

Was that sadness he heard in her voice? Reid hoped not, because something told him that if anybody had earned the right to be happy, it was Cammi. “Well, I won’t keep you, then. Just wanted you to know you can call, any time, if I forgot anything.”

“You didn’t forget anything, but if I remember something you might have forgotten, I’ll be sure and call.” After a long pause, she added, “And I hope you know you can do the same.”

He nodded, then shook his head and chuckled under his breath, because of course she couldn’t see him nodding. “Sure. Right. I’ll do that.” Reid cleared his throat. “Well, you take it easy, y’hear?”

“I will. You, too.”

“Catch you later, then.”

“Have a good one!”

If one of them didn’t put a stop to this, they’d go on “ending” the conversation till sundown. Much as he’d enjoy spending the day with her, even by phone, he took the bull by the horns: “Bye, Cammi. Glad to hear you’re still feeling fine.”

“Thanks. Glad you’re all right, too. I’ll call if I hear anything from the insurance company or the mechanic.”

“I’ll do the same.”

He put the phone back into its cradle, wondering why the room felt colder and darker.

Reid remembered that earlier, he’d pocketed Billy’s note, the one with Amanda’s hotel and room number. Grimacing, he fished it out. The sooner he got things cleaned up, the better. She answered on the first ring.

“Hey,” he said, “I got your message and—”

“Reid, darling!” she shrieked. “How are you! Why haven’t you called! I’ve been so worried about you!”

He sighed. “Will you be free in about an hour? I know it’s early, but—”

“Oh, Reid,” she cooed. “I’m never too busy for you.”

He stifled a sigh of frustration. Amanda’s tendency to overemphasize even the simplest words was but one in a long list of reasons that it could never work out between them.

“When did you get into town?”

“Why, yesterday, of course. I called the minute I settled in, so we could get together and talk about us.”

He could tell her, here and now, that there never had been and never would be an us, but Reid didn’t believe in taking the easy way out. The night he’d won the Silver Buckle award, Amanda had tearfully admitted she didn’t have a ride home. And because Martina and Billy had drummed into his head that gentlemen treated women like ladies whether or not they deserved it, he agreed to drive her. He should have immediately put the brakes on her intense thank-you kiss in the hall outside her apartment. If he had, he wouldn’t have paid for his thoughtfulness every day since.

“I didn’t leave my room once,” Amanda was saying. “I’d just die if you called while I was out!”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said distractedly. He had tried, over and over since that first night, to explain that one kiss doesn’t seal any deal, least of all of the relationship kind. Her sobs had made him decide to explain things another day, when she wasn’t so…emotional. And today’s that day.

“I can hardly wait to see you, Reid! Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”

In place of a response, he said, “How ’bout I pick you up at eight, buy you some breakfa—?”

“Oh, Reid! I’d just love that!”

“See you at eight.”

Reid felt strangely guilty after hanging up, not for severing the connection with Amanda, not for what he was about to tell her, but because it seemed this meeting with Amanda was tantamount to cheating on Cammi. He couldn’t help but chuckle at that, because wouldn’t it be a bitter irony if Cammi was home right now, rehearsing the same speech for him that he was about to make to Amanda!

Amusement faded fast as he imagined her, hemming and hawing as she sought a compassionate way to deliver her message. It would hurt worse than a fall from a saddle bronc, no matter what words she chose or how kindly she spoke them.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered. “Face it, man…you barely know the woman!”

Still, admitting how it would sting if Cammi rejected him started a ‘what goes around, comes around’ mantra swirling in his head. It made him decide to set Amanda straight gently. Very gently…just in case. He half ran down the stairs, anxious to get it over with, once and for all. If he didn’t waste any time, he could get the new ranch hands squared away before heading into town….

The moment he stepped into Martina’s big sunny kitchen, he saw that she’d set the table. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee permeated the air, and pots and pans promising a full country breakfast were steaming on the stove.

“Good grief,” he said, looking around. “What time did you get up?”

Martina handed him a glass of juice. “Never you mind. Just sit down and eat before everything gets cold.”

Billy only shrugged, so Reid did as he was told; might be a lot easier for Amanda to take his “I’m not good for you” speech if he wasn’t wolfing down bacon and eggs while he made it.

“I want you to have a healthy meal in your belly,” Martina told her husband, “before we start out for Fort Worth.”

It wasn’t like Billy to comply so quickly, without so much as a teasing retort or a sly wink. Reid blamed it on nerves; Billy had never liked long drives or sleeping in hotel beds, and liked doctors’ exams even less. This trip to the latest in a long list of specialists would require both.

Martina handed each man a plate piled high with link sausages, over-easy eggs, crisp golden hash browns, and buttered toast. She filled their coffee cups, then joined them at the table. Spreading homemade raspberry jam on her bread, she asked, “You okay this morning, Reid?”

He looked up, more than a little surprised at the question. Later today, she’d drive her husband all the way to Fort Worth for who-knows-what kind of prognosis. “I’m fine. How ’bout you?”

From the day Reid’s mom brought him and his beat-up cardboard suitcase into this house, Martina had taken Reid under her wing, treated him like the son she’d never had. He couldn’t love her more if she were his mother. A guilty thought rapped at the edges of his mind: Reid did love her more than his own mother. But then, Martina had earned that love.

“Never mind about me.”

“I’m fine,” he said again.

Her left brow rose, the way it always did when she thought he was holding something back. “You’re not all stiff and sore? After that collision last night?”

He reached past the Eiffel Tower saltshaker and the Big Ben pepper mill to grab her hand. “Nope.”

She still didn’t believe him, and the proof was that in addition to raising her brow, Martina had tucked in one corner of her mouth.

God knows the poor woman had enough on her slender shoulders, what with all she did around the house and helping Billy with Rockin’ C business. And now this mind-numbing death sentence…. “Honest,” he added in a voice much too bright for his mood, “I’m right as rain. Fit as a fiddle. Sound as a dollar.”

Billy chuckled as Martina sighed and shook her head. “Well, all right. If you say so. But there’s a bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet, just in case.”

Reid couldn’t help but smile around a bite of spicy sausage, because truth was, his neck did feel a speck creaky, and a cramp in his lower back had nagged at him several times during the night. He blamed the long, sleepless hours for his minor discomforts; seemed every time he closed his eyes, he saw Cammi, smiling that smile of hers…brown eyes flashing, dimple deepening, musical voice reminding him of the wind chimes outside Martina’s kitchen window. How was a man supposed to get any shut-eye when—

“What in thunder did you put in those sausages?” Billy asked his wife.

Her brow furrowed.

He used his butter knife as a pointer. “You can see for yourself the boy’s off in la-la land.”

Reid stopped chewing and smiled nervously under their scrutiny. He looked from Martina to Billy and back again. “What?”

The couple exchanged a knowing glance, and Martina giggled.

He put down his fork. “C’mon guys. Cut it out. You’re gonna give me a complex.”

“This girl who ran into you,” Martina began, “is she pretty?”

Reid felt his cheeks flush. Because Billy and Martina were on to him? Or because Martina’s question gave him yet another mental picture of Cammi? “She’s okay,” he said, though pretty didn’t begin to describe her.

“What’s her name?” Martina asked.

“Cammi Carlisle.”

“Carlisle,” Billy said out loud. “Don’t know the name.”

“Must be new in town,” his wife told him.

Reid helped himself to another sausage. “She was on her way home from spending a couple years in California when we, uh, met. Said she’d lived here all her life before that.”

Billy and Martina looked puzzled.

“Maybe Carlisle is her married name. Maybe her parents are divorced and—”

Reid didn’t hear Billy’s explanation, because his mind had locked on the word married. Unconsciously, his fingers tightened around his fork handle. Heart thundering as his ears grew hot, he remembered asking Cammi if her husband’s job had taken her away from Amarillo. The only word he could come up with to describe how she’d looked was sad. Even now, he heard the sorrowful note in her voice when she’d answered. Her reaction conjured more questions than answers.

Maybe Cammi had followed some guy to California. Maybe they’d tied the knot while they were out there, and things went sour, so she’d come home to put an end to it. That sure would explain why her mind hadn’t been on the road when she ran the red light.

Then again, maybe there hadn’t been a husband at all, and she’d come home for no reason other than that she couldn’t cut it in Hollywood.

The real question was, what did he care?

At that moment, all Reid wanted was to get off by himself. It would take half an hour to drive to Amanda’s hotel. He’d have plenty of time to roll those notions around in his head a time or two on the way over, see if he could figure out why the idea of a man in Cammi’s life nagged at him like the after-affects of a bug bite.

Reid scooted his chair back and got to his feet. “Great meal, Martina, as usual.” He carried his plate and silverware to the sink, grabbed his jean jacket from the wall peg and opened the back door.

He was half in, half out when she said, “Where are you going in such an all-fired hurry?”

“Got those new guys starting work today, remember. Don’t want them lollygaggin’, ’specially not on their first day.” He nodded toward the outbuildings. “Might as well put them right to work on that fence.”

Billy was leaning back in his chair, preparing to agree, when Martina said, “Before you go, I have a favor to ask you.”

Reid stepped back into the kitchen. “I’ll do it.”

Her brows rose. “But you don’t even know what it is yet!”

“Can’t think of anything I’d refuse you.”

She smiled, then folded her hands in front of her. “Well, you know how terrible I am with directions.” She bit her lower lip, glancing quickly at her husband before meeting Reid’s eyes. “And you know Billy can’t drive anymore, so I was wonder—”

“Say no more,” he interrupted. “What time were the two of you planning to hit the road?”

“Right after lunch,” Billy said.

Reid put his hands in his pockets and nodded. More than enough time to get this nasty business with Amanda and the new ranch hands taken care of. “I’ll just get the boys started, make sure they have enough to keep them occupied till we get back. I have a, uh, errand in town, but I’ll be back by noon. We can head out whenever you’re ready.”

Martina gave a relieved sigh. “I had a feeling we could count on you.” She brightened to add, “I took the liberty of booking a room for you at our hotel.”

The long drive before and after the doctor’s appointment would wear Billy to a frazzle, so despite the fact that he hated hotels, Reid would stay the night.

“All I can say,” Billy put in, “is this doc better be worth the trip.” He gave Martina a stern yet loving look. “Those last four quacks weren’t worth their weight in feathers. You’ve run me all over, looking for a—”

“A miracle. Yes, that’s right,” she finished for him. Tears filled her dark eyes. Suddenly, she gripped her husband’s hand, gave it a little shake. “I have faith, mister, and I won’t rest until we’ve exhausted every possible option!”

On his feet now, Billy gathered her close and nuzzled her neck. “Aw, now, honeypot, don’t get all weepy on me.” He pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. “Don’t pay me any mind. Y’know I love you to pieces for all you’re doin’ to save my ornery hide, right?”

Eyes closed, Martina nodded and pressed her freshly kissed cheek against his knuckles. If Reid hadn’t already known how absolutely devoted she was to Billy, this scene would have made it obvious.

Her wavering breath pulsed in the quiet room.

So as not to disturb them, Reid slipped out the door, feeling like an interloper for eavesdropping on this very private, very loving moment.

Something nagged at the periphery of his consciousness:

He’d never been one to envy what others had…but it sure would be nice to know a love like that before he met his Maker.

After giving the ranch hands their orders, Reid drove to Amanda’s hotel and found her waiting for him outside the entrance. “I figured you’d be driving some kind of monster truck,” she said, giggling when she opened the passenger door, “so I wore blue jeans.”

She sidled up, intent on planting a kiss right on his lips. He gave her his cheek instead, and pretended not to notice the disappointment that registered on her face. She recovered quickly, though—he had to give her that. After a second or two of silence, she snuggled close.

“I hate to sound like an old codger,” he began, pointing at the passenger seat, “but you need to slide right back over there and buckle your seat belt.” He stared straight ahead. If Rose London had been wearing her seat belt thirteen years ago, she might have survived the accident. Since that night, he’d been a stickler when it came road safety.

But Amanda had no way of knowing that, and her wide-eyed expression proved it. “Had a fender bender last night,” he added, “so it’s making me more cautious than usual.”

“How sweet,” was her breathy reply.

Amanda chattered about turbulence during her flight as Reid drove to Georgia’s Diner and parked in the lot, babbled about too few towels in her hotel room as they walked inside, yammered about Amarillo’s gray skies and chilly temperatures as they scanned menus. “You look wonderful,” she said, once the gum-snapping waitress had left with their order.

Reid knew she expected him to return the compliment, but to say anything flattering right now would only make his speech that much harder to deliver. No point putting off till tomorrow what you can do today, he silently quoted Billy. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in, saying it was all his fault that she’d come to believe they had a future as anything but friends. To spare her feelings, he called himself a fool, a self-centered jerk, a boor.

To his amazement, Amanda didn’t resort to tears, didn’t disagree. In fact, she said nothing, nothing at all. Instead, she simply stood and gathered her things before walking woodenly out the door. Groaning inwardly, Reid put a twenty on the table to cover the cost of the food they’d ordered, and followed her. He caught up to her on the entrance to the parking lot.

“Amanda,” he began, “don’t go away mad. There’s no need—”

She threw herself into his arms and held on tight. Reid looked up, as if the answer to this problem was written on the underside of a rain cloud. He was about to offer to drive her back to the hotel when movement across the street caught his eye.

Cammi—in tiny black shoes and a bright white sweater—mouth agape and eyes wide, looking directly at him.

It was as if the world had come to a dead halt. Cammi no longer heard the steady din of traffic, didn’t see sparrows flitting to and fro, pecking the sidewalk in search of food scraps dropped by hurrying pedestrians, couldn’t feel the biting blast of autumn wind against her cheeks. She wasn’t even feeling the rush of satisfaction from the successful interview she’d just come from with the principal of Puttman Elementary that had resulted in a teaching position. Instead, she was aware only of Reid, locked in an intimate embrace with a tall, striking blonde.

It made no sense why jealousy reared its ugly head, started her heart beating faster.

Reid hadn’t mentioned a woman last night in Georgia’s Diner. But then, why would he? He certainly didn’t owe her any explanations. The sight of him, face half buried in the blonde’s long, gleaming tresses, made her fumble-footed, and she tripped over a protruding blob of hard tar, squeezed into a crack in the curb.

Tires skidded, horns honked, brakes squealed as she landed on hands and knees in the road. She felt ridiculous, crawling around in a small circle, grabbing up the tube of lipstick and ballpoint pens that had spilled from her purse.

She had no idea when Reid had crossed the street, or when he’d knelt beside her. But there he was, lips a fraction of an inch from hers, smiling as she stuffed a rat-tail comb, a pack of tissues and a quarter into her bag.

“We’ve gotta quit meetin’ this way,” he drawled. Cammi giggled nervously, despite the dull ache in her lower back, despite the burning, bloody scrapes on her knees and the palms of her hands.

As they neared the curb, a wave of nausea and dizziness staggered her. But, just as he had the night before, Reid steadied her.

“You okay?” he asked, voice laced with concern.

She was about to answer, when the blonde he’d been hugging so tightly flounced up. “Well,” she huffed, “at least now I understand why you wanted to end things.” She blinked mascara-blackened lashes at Cammi. “I hope you’ll be very happy, following your rodeo cowboy from town to town.” Glaring at Reid through narrowed eyes, she added, “I feel it only fair to warn you, you won’t be the only one!” With that, she spun on her stiletto heels and click-clacked off. “And don’t you even think about following me, Reid Alexander,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Reid seemed torn between helping Cammi and fixing things with the angry woman. “I’m okay,” Cammi assured him. “Really. Now hurry, or she’ll get—”