Page 11 of Sweet Deal
Three heads turned in his direction. Mark shook his head. “The whole town knows they ran into each other today. How the heck did you miss it?”
Shifting his cards, Bill shrugged. “Unlike some people, I actually work hard for a living.”
There was no arguing that ranching was a tough job. Up before dawn, hard labor all day, and then early to bed to start over again the next day.
“Two cards.” Jim tried to redirect the conversation away from Rachel.
Bill dealt him the two requested cards.
“I ran into Garret and his wife the other day. Still can’t believe he’s married. One minute he was our fifth player and the next he was head over boot heels in love and married.”
“Don’t forget Preston and Carson,” Bill added. “Three weddings in only a few months. They’re making the rest of us look bad.”
Laughter went around the table. Jim managed a tight smile. He remembered Rachel mentioning her brothers’ recent marriages back at the park. He pictured her face when she talked about them, the easy affection mixed with that undercurrent of… something else. Stress? Worry? He hadn’t been able to place it then, and he couldn’t now. What was really going on over at the Sweet Ranch? She’d mentioned losing their foreman, everyone moving home to help her mom. It sounded like Charlie Sweet was missed more than they were letting on.
He thought back to their afternoon. The way she’d laughed when he almost tripped retrieving her napkin at the park. The intensity in her eyes when she talked about her social work, her passion for “fixing wrongs.” And the way she’d looked picking out that belt buckle for him at Miller’s. Then there was that brief kiss on the cheek before she left… simple, friendly, yet it had sent a jolt through him he still felt hours later.
The pile of chips center table was growing.
“I’ll call.” Mark tossed a few chips onto the pile and, smiling, laid down his cards. “Three Jacks.”
One by one the others tossed the cards on the table and grumbled. Jim did the same, his cards falling face up.
His brother stared at the cards. “Jim?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve got three aces. You should have won this round.”
Blinking, he looked down at the cards. His brother was right; his mind was most definitely not on the game. Pushing back from the table, he stood. “Like I said, long day. Deal me out this hand. Need to stretch my legs. Be right back.”
He stepped out of the brightly lit garage into the cool night air. The vast Texas sky arched overhead, ablaze with stars, a sight he rarely saw on the light-polluted California coast. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, halting at Rachel Sweet, wondering if after all these years she still had the same number. Only one way to find out. Tapping the number before he had time to change his mind, he sucked in a deep breath, ran his hand behind his neck and listened to the ringing from his phone.
It rang twice before she picked up, her voice slightly breathless, “Hello.”
“Hey, Rach,” he tried to sound casual, leaning against the side of the house. “Didn’t wake you or interrupt anything important, did I?”
“No, I was in the kitchen and my phone was upstairs.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No big deal.” He could hear her lower the volume on a television.
All he could think was if she was in the living room or her room, then he shook his head as if chasing away the thoughts. It didn’t matter.
“What are you up to?”
“Mark dragged me to a poker game at Billy’s.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It’s nice reconnecting.” That part was mostly true. “But I was thinking about that rain check.”
“Still angling to win that five dollars back, Henderson?” He could almost hear her smile through the phone.
“You know it.” Relief washing over him, a smile took over his face. This felt easy. Right. “Seriously, though, you busy tomorrow? Figured we could finally settle that corn hole score. Unless you’d rather do something else?”
“Oh, uh…”
