Judy Christenberry - Randall Riches

She returned to the truck and started it up, praying Brad had left. But his car, a beat-up Chevrolet, was still guarding her room. She knew he was thinking she spent the night with the cowboy, which meant his anger was growing. She shielded her face with her hand and drove on by, then returned to her earlier parking space at the shopping center.

Knowing she was in for a long day, Sam went into the large economy store, bought herself a snack and a paperback book. She couldn’t risk driving by her building too many times fearing Brad might notice the truck.

If Larry, his only cook, was handling breakfast, Brad would have to go in for the lunch crowd. So she’d have to stay hidden until eleven this morning. Then she could get to her stuff.

At eleven-fifteen, she parked the truck outside her room and hurried up the sidewalk. Mrs. Walley, her landlady, met her at the front door.

“Dear, you had a young man come calling last night.”

Samantha shook her head, hiding a smile. The old lady was a complete romantic. No one else would describe Brad as a “young man.” “What did he say?”

“He wanted to talk to you.” Mrs. Walley peeked out the hall window. “I think he waited all night. He knocked on the door this morning and asked for you again, but I told him you hadn’t come home. I don’t think he was very happy.”

“Mrs. Walley, I’m moving out today. Since I’m paid until the end of the month, you’ll have some time to find another renter without losing money.”

“Oh, dear, no! I’ve so enjoyed your being here. Must you go?”

“Yes, I must.”

“What shall I tell that young man? Or will you talk to him?”

“No, I won’t. Tell him I’ve gone to California.” She gave the woman a brief hug and entered the place she’d called home for a little over a month. After checking out the window to make sure Brad hadn’t come back, she took a quick shower and washed her hair.

Packing took about ten minutes. All her belongings fit in a duffel bag. She had to be ruthless with herself about what she kept. She couldn’t afford to weight herself down with sentimental junk. A couple of changes of clothes, her toiletries, one towel. She used a spare T-shirt as her nightgown. Wearing her only pair of shoes, some athletic lace-ups, completed her sparse wardrobe.

She slipped out without talking to Mrs. Walley again and headed for the hospital. She suspected the cowboy was going to be annoyed that she hadn’t stopped by first thing this morning. It had just been more convenient to pick up her belongings first. And she had to wait for Brad to give up.

It tickled her to drive by The Hot Skillet without Brad having any idea she was out there. The man was a bully. She felt sorry for the other waitresses who worked there and so very relieved she was no longer one of them.

THE PAIN greeted him as he swam to consciousness. Rich opened his eyes and recognized his hospital surroundings. He remembered his hardheadedness, his refusal to admit he was hurt to his so-called friends. The waitress who’d taken pity on him.

He looked around the room as if he expected her to be sitting beside the bed. Then he berated himself for such silliness. If his mother knew of his condition, she’d be here. She was the best. And his dad would chew him out, then give him a big hug. His twin, Russ…Rich’s eyes filled with tears. Damn, he missed Russ. He even missed his baby brother, Casey.

He wanted to go home. Even if he wasn’t returning as the conquering hero, as he’d imagined, he wanted to go home. As soon as the doctor released him, that’s what he would do.

The nurse brought in his breakfast, giving him a cheerful greeting. She was young and pretty and he flirted with her. But he kept calculating how long it would be before the doctor checked on him…and how long it would be before the waitress came back.

“Anybody here to see me?” he asked as the nurse prepared to leave.

“I don’t think so. Do you want me to check?”

“Yes, please. I’m expecting a lady, tall, willowy brunette.”

The pretty little nurse looked disappointed, giving his ego a lift. “I’ll ask,” she said and turned to leave.

“Say,” Rich said, stopping her again. “When will the doctor be by? I need to get out of here.”

“In about an hour,” she replied as she walked out of his room.

Almost to the minute she’d predicted, the doctor examined him and promised to put him in a cast that evening so he could leave the next morning. But he told him he couldn’t drive for a month, even though he’d put him in a walking cast up to his knee.

Rich was devastated by that news. There was no way he was going to stay in Flagstaff for a month. Maybe he’d get the waitress to call home and get someone to fly down and drive him back. They’d have to come soon. His horse was stabled at the rodeo grounds, but they’d be closing the place tomorrow.

He spent the next three hours trying to plan a scenario that would get him home, get his animal taken care of and…with growing worries, figuring out what had happened to the waitress and his truck.

Just before they served lunch, the woman he’d become increasingly annoyed with finally walked into his room.

“Where the hell have you been!” he yelled.

“Sorry I’m late,” the waitress said, seemingly unconcerned about his frustration.

“Where have you been?”

“Packing my belongings,” she replied, moving closer to his hospital bed.

“Just like a woman,” he said in disgust. “I’m lying here in pain and she’s packing a huge wardrobe!”

She ignored his remark. “Has the doctor been to see you? What did he say?”

“He said I get out tomorrow. They’ll put the cast on this evening, a walking cast.”

“Great! You’ll be all set, then.”

“Not exactly. He said I can’t drive for a month.”

She seemed taken aback, which made him feel better. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, I’ve had plenty of time to work things out, since it took you so long to—what do you mean pack? Where do you think you’re going?” He liked her. He appreciated what she’d done for him, but he hadn’t expected her to pack her belongings and follow him home. What did she think she was doing?

She grinned. “Don’t panic. My packing has nothing to do with you. I’m out of a job and—”

“Can’t you find something around here?”

She raised one eyebrow. “I could.”

“Then you wouldn’t have to move,” he pointed out.

“Thanks for the advice. Now tell me what you decided and where you want me to leave the truck.”

“I need you to do a couple of other things for me if you don’t mind. Can you go to the rodeo grounds and take care of my horse?”

“Your horse? You have a horse here with you?”

“Yeah.” Why did she sound so surprised?

“You don’t need a horse to do bull riding.”

“I also do calf roping and team steer wrestling.”

“Oh. Well, what do you want me to do with your horse? Do you mean clean out his stall and feed him? I can do that.”

“I’m not asking you to do that kind of work. Check and see if Gabe Randall has left yet. If he hasn’t moved on with the rodeo, get him to take care of Bella.”

“Bella?”

“My horse.”

“And if he’s gone?”

“I’ll give you some money to pay for someone to take care of her.”

“Okay. For how long?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to call home collect and explain. Explain what happened and ask someone to fly down here and drive me home.”

“Where’s home?” she asked, curiosity on her face.

“Rawhide, Wyoming.”

He frowned when she didn’t respond. She seemed to be concentrating, causing him to ask, “What?”