Candace Camp - Hard-Headed Texan

“Well, I won’t tell him, Antonia,” Elizabeth said in a patient tone that was guaranteed to set Antonia’s teeth on edge. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. What’s going on in your life?”

“I saved a foal’s life today, maybe the mother’s, too.” And I met a very handsome man, and he kissed me, and I felt as tingly as a schoolgirl, and I’m not sure what to do about it—if, indeed, there is anything to do.

“That’s nice, dear. It sounds quite rewarding.”

“It was.” Antonia felt guilty. Her mother was trying, after all. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t understand her daughter. Perhaps she should confide in her mother about Daniel Sutton. Take the initiative to bring about a closer relationship.

At that moment there was a click, and Elizabeth said, with a note of relief in her voice, “Oh, there’s another call. I’m afraid I have to get off, Antonia. Faith Morton is supposed to be calling me with information about the June Gala.”

“Of course. I’m glad you called. Goodbye.”

Antonia hung up the phone and turned back to the table and her supper, no doubt cold by now. She found Mitzi crouched on the table, chowing down on the choicest bits of meat on the tray.

“Mitzi! Oh, well, I’m not hungry anymore anyway.” Antonia’s stomach was alive with nerves now. Talking about her ex-husband had a way of doing that to her.

She thought about the phone call that morning. It had the markings of one of Alan’s calls—jolting her from a sound sleep, the unnerving silence, the hang-up. But then, she reasoned, the same could be said of a dozen other kinds of calls, including a simple wrong number and embarrassed dialer. There wasn’t any reason to believe that it was Alan after all these years.

Still, she went to the kitchen door and checked its bolt, then continued around the house, checking each window and doorknob. She had forgotten to set the security system—one of her first acquisitions whenever she moved into a new place—and she punched in the keycode now, watching as the reassuring red light began to blink.

She went to the window of the living room, which looked out on the front yard. The blinds were closed, as they always were at night, but Antonia lifted the edge and looked out. The moon was full and cast a bright light across the scene, outlining trees and cars. Nothing moved.

For a long time she stood there, gazing into the darkness, thinking about the past, about how she had gotten here. About Alan.

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