Jan Hudson - The Twin

“Oh, my dear, we have some pecan-crusted catfish that’s to die for. Foster has outdone himself.”

“I’ll have that. Tell Foster hi for me.”

“I will,” Sid said as he held out her chair. After she was seated, Sid bustled off to get her drink. Sid bustled everywhere.

“Hey, sis,” Cass said. “How’s it going? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Avoiding me?”

She almost laughed off the question, but a funny little hitch in her breath stopped her. Had she been avoiding Cass? Not consciously, of course, but maybe she had. Why?

“You have,” Cass said, leaning forward. “Why? Is it a man?” She grinned. “Give, sis.”

“Don’t do your lawyer bit with me. You know that I don’t respond well to grilling.”

Cass laughed. “Look who’s talking. The grill queen. You’re like a pit bull, but don’t sidestep the question. What’s been going on with you? You know we always tell each other everything.”

Sunny thought for a moment. What was she avoiding? Not wanting to stir up old feelings, she deliberately hadn’t mentioned Sam Outlaw’s visit to the café. “Oh, I had to run a million errands yesterday, and the band practiced last night.”

Cass lifted one eyebrow and waited.

“Something sort of interesting happened Wednesday. A guy, a Texas Ranger to be exact, dropped in for lunch. His name was Sam Outlaw.”

Both of Cass’s brows went up. “Sam Bass Outlaw?”

“Yep.” She took a sip of the iced mint tea that Sid had left for her. “The very one.” Leaving out anything but a general mention of Sam’s being with another Ranger, she related the entire conversation with their relative.

“Interesting,” Cass said.

“I thought so.”

“Do you think he knew about us before he came in?” Cass asked.

“I don’t think he had a clue. It was pure coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Well, whether you believe in them or not, I can assure you that this was,” Sunny said. “He seemed genuinely surprised. How could he have known about us to come looking? And why would he care about his illegitimate cousins? Trust me, it was a coincidence.”

Cass narrowed her eyes and peered into Sunny’s. “Is there something you left out?”

Sunny put on her best innocent face. “I’ve told you everything that I can remember about my conversation with Sam.” No way was she going to mention Ben. Cass would blow it all out of proportion and start to nag her. She was worse than the Senator. Sometimes being a twin with those special connections could be a real pain.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“You must miss being a lawyer. There you go again with the grilling. I feel like I’m in the witness box.”

“Sunny, sweetie, I can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to interrogation. Must be all those years as a detective that honed your skills. You were great at it. Do you miss being a cop?”

Sunny hesitated. A year ago she wouldn’t have hesitated a beat in saying no, but now and again she wondered if she didn’t miss some things—not that she would admit it to Cass. “No. Not at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Cass studied her for a minute; Sunny resisted squirming. “Running Chili Witches isn’t much of a challenge after being one of Austin’s finest.”

“Maybe not, but it suits me fine. Besides, I wouldn’t be much of a cop without a gun, and I never want to pick up one again.”

Cass obviously sensed Sunny’s discomfort and changed the subject. “Tell me about the other Ranger with Sam.”

Sunny squirmed, but only a hair. A hair was enough. Cass let out a hoot of laughter.

“I knew it,” Cass said. “I knew it. Tell me about him.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Come on, sis. This is me. What’s his name? What does he look like?”

“I think his name was Ben.”

“You think?”

“Okay. His name was Ben. I don’t even remember his last name. McSomething, I think. He was tall and kind of nice-looking. I didn’t pay much attention. I doubt that I’ll ever see him again.”

“You’re lying. Did he ask you out?”

“Of course not. I mostly talked to Sam, and we were busy in the café.”

Cass waited, that look on her face that said she wasn’t letting it go.

“And all right, he came back for lunch today.”

“Aha! I’d say that he’s interested. Was Sam with him?”

“No. He was alone.”

“That definitely means he’s interested.”

“It only means that he likes our chili. We barely spoke.”

“And why was that? Did you go hide in the kitchen?”

“Why would I hide in the kitchen?”

“Aha!” Cass said again. “I knew it. Listen to me, sis. It’s past time you put aside that shroud you’ve wrapped yourself in and rejoin the world. You’re too young to molder in widows’ weeds with your plants and cats.”

“Are you nuts? I’m not moldering, and I only have one cat.”

“How long since you’ve gone out with a man? How long since you’ve even considered going out with a man?”

“Would you stop with the goading? I’m simply not interested in dating. Not yet, in any case.”

“How long are you going to wait? Five years? Ten? Twenty?”

Thank goodness Sid appeared with their food, and Sunny was saved from answering Cass’s question. But she couldn’t help asking herself the same question. How long was she going to wait?

The whole subject gave her a headache. And for no reason. Ben might have revved her motor a little bit, but he hadn’t shown any particular interest in asking her out. Anyhow, just because he didn’t wear a wedding ring didn’t mean a thing. He could be very married. Or he could be in a committed relationship of some sort. It was unlikely that a hunk like him was available. Case closed.

Sunny was just walking into Chili Witches after her lunch with Cass when the phone near the register rang. Melanie, a short blonde who was the assistant manager, grabbed it, then put her hand over the phone receiver and said, “Sunny, a call for you on line one.”

“Who is it?”

“Beats me. Some guy. Are you in?”

“Sure. I’ll take it.” She reached for the receiver. “Hi, this is Sunny. May I help you?”

There was a pause, then a deep voice said, “Hello. This is Ben McKee.”

Her breath caught and an odd rush spread over her. “Ben?”

“Yes. I’m the Ranger who came in with Sam Outlaw on Wednesday. I was there at noon today for chili.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Ben. Did you forget something?”

He chuckled and the sound seemed to resonate in her belly. How very odd.

“No, I think I got out with everything I came in with. I wanted to ask you to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“Din-dinner?” she said, stammering in spite of her efforts at control. “Tomorrow night?” Panic clawed its way up from her stomach to her throat. She wasn’t ready to deal with this.

“Yes. Tomorrow. Saturday night. If you’re free. That is, if you’re not involved with anyone. I didn’t even think to ask that. Are you?”

Her mouth went August dry. She finally managed to say, “No. I’m a widow.”

“Good,” he said quickly. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean it was good you were a widow. Sorry about that. I meant it was good you weren’t—”

“I know what you meant.” She almost smiled. He seemed as nervous as she felt. “And I really appreciate the invitation, but I have a previous commitment tomorrow night.”

There was a moment of silence, then Ben said, “Oh. Well, maybe another time. I’ll catch you later.”

And he was gone. She was left with a dial tone and a minor shock. What was that all about? His invitation had surprised her. True, she’d noticed a bit of interest on his part, but she hadn’t expected him to ask her on a date. She really did have a commitment tomorrow night. Her band, the Copper Pistols, played somewhere almost every Saturday night. Made up of police officers, the Pistols had been a garage band formed when Brian was still alive. She played drums, and Brian had played bass. Two other friends played guitar and keyboard and a third sang lead. They’d first started playing together as a stress reliever, and then realized they were pretty darned good and started accepting gigs now and then. After Brian’s death, the members of the group had helped her keep her sanity. And although she was no longer employed by Austin PD, the guys hadn’t kicked her out. Sometimes the band seemed like her last connection to Brian. They’d had so much fun playing together.