Page 3 of Gentle Persuasion

Morgan shrugged. “Well, I certainly appreciate it, and don’t think I don’t know what an effort this was on your part. And, as for monetary arrangements, I’ve opened an account for you at my bank. Your pay will be deposited twice a month. Here are some counter checks until yours come back from the printer.”

“I didn’t intend for this to be so…businesslike,” Debbie said. The mention of money made her blush. “It’s not like I had a job I couldn’t bear to leave. Grocery checker isn’t exactly high on a high school counselor’s list of career opportunities. I can have the job back as soon as I return. My boss already said so. I was simply looking at this as a…vacation. I’ve never been to California.”

He smiled crookedly, reminding her of Cole. Just the thought of him made her lose her concentration. And then Morgan continued.

“As for where to start…look around. It’s all a mess, and I don’t think this will feel like a vacation. Believe me, you’ll earn every penny of it. If you hadn’t come, I would have had to hire extra help until I’m well. That wreck on the freeway broke more than my leg. I can’t seem to recoup my enthusiasm for anything.” He hugged her gently. “I’d a lot rather it be you here than some stranger.”

She smiled.

He continued. “And I may have to send you out to buy a whole new set of dishes. I can’t seem to find half of them. Glasses are scarce, too.”

“Hmm,” Debbie mused. “Well, I’ll tell you what! Why don’t you go out to the fabulous lounge chair by the pool. Take the morning paper with you. I’ll be out later with something cool for you to drink. That’ll give me time to sort through all this without disturbing your rest.”

He readily agreed and disappeared outside, leaving Debbie to set a routine in motion as she began to put the household back to rights. A shadow passing across a doorway nearly an hour later made her look up to see that the Brownfield hermit had finally come up for air.

“Hey, mister!” she called from the living room as she saw Buddy carrying a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of iced-down soda in the other. “You better say hello to me. Long time no see.”

“Uh…Debbie!” Buddy gulped and grinned around a mouthful of cookie. “Yeah! I’d forgotten you were coming. Great to see you again, too.”

She gave him a hug and resisted the urge to sit him down and comb his hair. It looked as if he’d slept standing on his head. Little swirls and spikes of shaggy brown hair went every which way.

“You, too, Buddy,” she replied. “Are you still into computers?”

“Cole is gone, you know,” he answered in Buddy-like fashion. His mind was always on an entirely different subject than the one in discussion.

“I know, darling,” she said softly, and patted him on the arm as he disappeared into his room with his snack. As she watched him walk away, a thought occurred to her. If she was right, she just may have saved Morgan the price of a set of crockery.

“Oh Buddy.” She called aloud through the closed door. “I meant to tell you. You have fifteen minutes to retrieve every piece of crockery and glassware residing in your room, or I’m coming in with a bucket of soap and water and a vacuum.”

The door flew back instantly. Buddy stood mouth agape, half-eaten cookie hanging from his mouth as he gasped. “No…never…in here. Wait! I’ll do…you can’t… I’ll only take—”

Debbie waited. He stuffed the cookie into his mouth and pivoted as neatly as a star running back. She smiled to herself. Pay dirt! She wisely refrained from making another remark as Buddy made his first of five trips to the kitchen. She opened the dishwasher and pointed. He blinked, chewed, gulped, and swallowed the last of his cookie.

“Who, me?” he asked, and then stopped at the expression on her face. “Oh! Sure thing.”

Debbie left him to his task as she went outside to check on Morgan. A quick glance told her that he was still dozing. She quietly scooted the patio table over so that its umbrella would give him some shade and went back into the house just as the phone began to ring.

“Brownfield residence,” she answered. The deep masculine voice at the other end made her tilt. She leaned against the wall for support and tried to focus. It was the same feeling she’d had when the plane had taken off yesterday, leaving her stomach somewhere over the red earth of Oklahoma.

“Feeling better?” Cole asked, secretly glad that it had been she who’d answered. This way he didn’t have to ask anyone else how she was feeling and reveal the true reason why he’d called.

“Much,” she said. “And Cole…” her voice trailed off into a little silence.

“What?”

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?” he asked gruffly.

“You know what,” Debbie said. “For the rescue. For putting me into bed. For taking off my shoes. For bringing my bags—”

“Oh that,” he said, interrupting her recital. “Well, Little Red, that’s my job. I’m a cop. Cops to the rescue and all that.”

Little Red! It had been months since she’d heard that teasing nickname. It was a play on words. Oklahoma University’s football team was affectionately known as Big Red, and she’d been a small but staunch fan; thus the name, “Little Red.”

She closed her eyes, swallowed sharply, and pulled herself together.

“Yes, well, I’ll have to take your word on that cop business. Yesterday I didn’t see a badge on you anywhere. Course I wasn’t seeing so good. But from where I was crawling, I saw a whole lot of bare skin. Wet, too. But, no badge. Definitely no—”

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