Page 50 of Wrangled Up

By the time the breakfast and lunch rushes were over, she was eager to get out of the diner. As she passed the night shift waitress, she smiled and gave a nod. “See you tomorrow, Anna.”

“Hey, wait up a sec.” The gentle lady stopped Claire with a hand on her arm.

Claire looked up from the cell she held. No messages from Tucker. In fact, Christian hadn’teven texted her. Not unusual for either, but she still felt a letdown. “Sure, what’s up?”

Anna was in her mid- thirties and had two kids by a truck drivin’ man. She was lonely and the kids missed their dad—something Claire could easily identify with. When she’d come around to Anna’s house for cookouts or holiday drinks, Claire always made it a point to take a little gift for the kids to let them know they were special.

Claire stared into her friend’s face. Anna shifted her blue gaze away.

“Have you talked to your daddy lately, hon?” Anna asked.

“Um…” She thought back. When had she and her father actually spoken? After years of him being on the road, his destinations blended in with his phone calls. She didn’t know if he called on a Wednesday from San Francisco or Saturday from Missoula. All she knew was that he’d been strange during their last conversation, probing about where she’d been staying and if she had a boyfriend.

Anna moved closer and lowered her voice. Though the mad lunch rush was over, four old gentlemen still held down the stools at thecounter, and they were sometimes more gossipy than old women.

“My Rodney crossed paths with your father two days ago. Guess they sat down together and had a few beers.”

“Okay,” Claire said slowly.

“That young man you brought around here a few times… Tucker, was it?”

Claire’s heart convulsed. The blood drained from her face, giving her a dizzy feeling. “What about him?” Her voice came out a breathless whisper.

Anna kept her hand on Claire’s arm, a concerned crinkle alighting between her eyebrows. “I hear tell that your daddy did some talking to Tucker.”

Claire jerked. “What?” They were together? Talking? And where? When Tucker’s relatives had come nosing around yesterday and told her and Christian that they’d heard from Tucker, Claire had known a dark jealousy unlike any she’d had before.

Except right now.

Tucker didn’t have the decency to get in touch with the two people he’d fucked and leftwith all of his work, but he could hang out with her father?

“What would they have to talk about?”

Anna’s eyes saddened. “You, honey. I guess your father told him what a good catch you are.”

Claire’s sinking feeling transformed to one of instant irritation. She rolled her eyes. “Damn him for interfering.” But she had to ask the one question burning in her heart. “How did he look—Tucker? He’s all right?”

Anna lifted a rounded shoulder in a dainty shrug. “Men don’t notice things about other men like that. But you know, I guess he was doing fine.”

Claire felt herself nodding—an autonomic reflex akin to breathing.Nod, smile, let everyone know I’m okay.

I’m not okay.

She fought down the knot bobbing in her throat and gave Anna’s arm a pat. “Thank you for letting me know. Now, have a good shift. Don’t take any crap from Mr. McGinley. His supper does not need to be sent back to be warmed. You hear?”

Anna looked uncertain.

Claire provided one of her bravest smiles and then fled the diner. Ordinarily, she might have checked her phone one more time for messages from Tucker. Instead, she shoved her cell into her purse.

The air was cooler outside, a shifty breeze that smelled of wild things, growing things. Dying things. Her love with Tucker had been born in the summer, when the world was ripe with promise. Autumn was upon them, and his loss and refusal to come back were killing off every sweet emotion she ever held for him.

She ripped open her car door and tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. For a long minute, she stared at the side of the diner. The concrete blocks had been painted a retro baby blue a few shades darker than the washed-out sky.

Somewhere out there, Tucker was talking about her with her father. Two men who thought they knew enough about her to deserve the right to speak of her.

Tears welled in her eyes. She dropped her forehead to the steering wheel and tried to conjure any image but that of Tucker seated beside her dad sharing beers and talk of her.

Before her mind’s eye, she brought forth the picture of Christian with his contraband breakfast and Letty’s jovial laugh when he’d practically run from this morning’s pancakes as if they were ninjas.

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