City Girl (15 page)

“I wish I could tell you she was a believer, Jerome; not just for her sake, but for yours as well.”

“Well, I can still pray for her, can't I? Even if nothing ever comes of it for me, I can still ask God to save her.”

“Indeed, Jerome. Someday she might even thank you for that.”

Jerome didn't stay at the table too much longer, but the moment he left, Russell confronted Cash.

“Why haven't you asked me about Reagan?”

“I was the first one to meet her that Sunday, Russ. I know the situation.”

“True, but you've never mentioned her need for salvation.”

“But you know I'm aware. I pray for her every time God brings her to mind.”

“And how often is that?” Russell asked, watching him closely.

Cash smiled. This was the crux of the matter, and they both knew it.

“There are two problems here, Russ, and you know the first one.”

“Yes, I do,” he admitted quietly, knowing this conversation was one between good friends. Russell Bennett would never wish for his friend to marry an unbeliever, no matter how endearing. He now stated it plainly.

“You can't go falling for a woman who isn't a believer.”

“Exactly.”

“But I don't know the second reason.”

“That has to do with Reagan herself,” Cash explained. “Even if she did come to Christ, I can see that she doesn't want a man of her own. She doesn't mind being friendly to all of us, women and children included, but she isn't looking for a husband.”

Considering that neither Russell nor Holly had told Cash this, Russell thought him rather astute.

“You're right. She fears having a man control her.”

“I thought as much. I would say she's wise about living life on her own, and because of that, I think she's a little short on trust.”

“She's used to taking care of herself; I can tell you that.”

Cash suddenly laughed. “She rode up the drive on that bicycle, the cake held in one hand…I was very impressed.”

“Did she think it was potluck?”

Cash nodded.

Cries from Alisa stopped the conversation. They both looked up to see Holly coming with the baby in her arms, a red-stained handkerchief held against the child's head.

“She pulled herself up next to a tree,” Holly explained, “and then proceeded to fall against it and cut her head on the bark.”

“Go on into the house, Holly,” Cash instructed as Russell rose to hold the door. “Katy's in the kitchen.”

Cash smiled at the big, tragic eyes that looked at him from Alisa's tiny face just before she buried it against her mother again.

“How is she?” Reagan asked, coming up as they went into the house, a baby's blanket in her hands.

“I think she'll live.”

“You're sure to be right. She's the third, and they're usually pretty tough.”

“Do you speak from experience?”

“Not personally, no, but several large families lived on my street in New York. I was close to one of them, and we ended up with the saying, ‘There's no one tougher than the youngest Caminiti.'”

“And who was the youngest Caminiti?” Cash asked, working to get his mouth around the different-sounding name.

“Tony,” Reagan said with a smile. “An adorable, round-faced two-year-old who had a smile for everyone.”

“You miss them, don't you?”

“The people, yes, but not New York.” Reagan glanced around. “The sky here is so big, even at night. There's more dust than I thought existed anywhere on the earth, but I can live with that.”

Cash looked down into her earnest face, the creamy complexion, the dark, curly hair and intense dark eyes, and found himself praying for Jerome. There was no doubt about the right thing to do, but if the men in the church weren't careful, they were going to succumb to this woman's charms.

“Thank you for everything,” Reagan told Katy at the end of the evening. Her bike was already loaded in the rear of the Bennetts' wagon, but Reagan didn't want to leave without thanking the woman who had done so much work.

“Well, don't be a stranger,” the ranch housekeeper said. “You come back anytime. That cake was a good one. Have you got your plate?” she asked for the third time.

“Yes, ma'am. Thanks again.”

Katy waved her off, dismissing the words—something, Reagan noticed, she did with everyone. A few minutes later Reagan found herself in the back of the wagon with the Bennett children, darkness coming fast. They made the ride home in near silence, the children almost asleep at the end of the drive, and the adults alone in their thoughts.

Reagan enjoyed picturing the ranch in her mind. She thought it was a wonderful place, so wide open and grand. The trees that sat in front of the large two-story ranch house had provided abundant shade. Reagan had walked through the barn, which had dozens of horse stalls, and stood at the corral fence. This city girl wasn't any judge of horseflesh, but Cash's horses seemed very fine indeed. And the pond. Reagan smiled at the memory. Pecan trees, wooden benches, and a nice expanse of water all lingered in her mind as she watched the children swim, sat with the adults to visit, or walked with Holly around the perimeter.

Some of her conversation with that lady came back to mind, but her brain was too weary to take it in.

Had she but known that Russell and Holly were in the same position, she would have laughed. Both of them wondered if she'd had a good time and what she'd thought of the day and the people, but neither one had the energy to ask.

Home came into view when all were more than ready to arrive, and with only the briefest words of good night, they unloaded the wagon and went their separate ways.

“You're meeting who for dinner tonight?”

“Ty. He says he has a job for me. And you know I'm always trying to better myself.”

Sally's brows rose. “What's the job?”

“He wants to discuss it with me then.”

Sally looked more than a little skeptical, and Reagan was not going to let that pass.

“Should I not trust him?”

“I didn't say that.”

“But you're thinking it.”

“No, I'm not. Ty is utterly respectable, but he doesn't have the type of job that would need a woman's help.”

“What does he do?” Reagan asked, knowing full well she should have asked the man himself.

“He builds houses.”

Reagan blinked.

“Like with a hammer and nails?”

Sally laughed. “Yes, just like that.”

Reagan chewed her lip a moment. The breakfast crowd was long gone, and she was working on cleanup. A moment later, the same dry pot in her hand, she told herself to go through with the evening's plans.

“Well, I'm going to meet him and at least hear him out.”

“Why isn't he picking you up? In my day, a lady didn't meet a man on the streets.”

“You make it sound clandestine. I just feel safer not having men know where I live. ‘In your day,'” she went on to mutter. “You sound 102.”

“I feel 102, believe me.”

That night, as Reagan stood and waited for Ty to arrive, she remembered the conversation from the morning. She wasn't really worried, but she was early for the meeting in hopes that her escort would come soon and she could ask him about his business and the job he had in mind.

“Well, Reagan,” said a male voice to her right side.

Reagan turned to see Cash coming up the street.

“Hello,” she greeted him.

The tall cowboy came up the boardwalk and stopped as Reagan turned to speak to him.

“You look as though you're meeting someone.”

“I am.”

“What's her name?”

“It's not a woman.”

Cash frowned. “A gentleman asked you out for the evening but didn't offer to escort you from home?”

His tone put Reagan off a bit, but she still admitted, “I asked to meet him.”

“Why would you do that?”

Reagan's gaze shifted away and back again before she answered.

“I didn't want him to know where I lived.”

Cash's face told her she'd shocked him.

“Let me get this straight,” Cash said, a little too calmly. “You're going to spend the evening with this man, but you don't trust him enough to tell him where you live?”

Reagan's gaze shifted again. She started a little when Cash suddenly moved and sat on one of the benches in front of the hotel.

“What are you doing?” Reagan asked as she turned to watch. He was only ten feet away.

“I'm sitting here to make sure you're going to be all right.”

“You might be used to people taking care of you,” Reagan informed him, her mood growing dark, “but I do just fine on my own.”

“That's why you're sitting safely at home waiting for this man to escort you safely to dinner.”

Reagan frowned at him.

“Who is it, by the way?”

“Tyrone Arnold.”

Cash didn't comment, and Reagan got angry.

“You don't have to do this,” she hissed at him.

Cash only stared back at her, crossed his booted ankles, and settled in, looking for all the world as though he was staying the night.

“You have a huge nerve, Cash Rawlings,” Reagan told him, clearly not happy with his actions.

“And you have more guts than good sense.”

Reagan's gaze narrowed. Russell Bennett had said something very similar to her, and she didn't like it. Who did these men think they were?

“I want you to leave.”

Cash shrugged. “I'm just sitting on a public bench in front of the hotel.”

“We both know that's not true.”

“We also both know that you're more worried about this meeting than you're letting on.”

Reagan's chin rose in the air, but she didn't deny it.

“If you're not,” Cash pressed her, “move down the walk a ways. I'm sure Ty will still find you.”

Reagan turned her back on him. She didn't know when she'd been so angry. She did not, however, move down the walk. She told herself she didn't have to. If anyone should move, it should be Cash! But even in her anger she wasn't quite convinced. It was on her mind to simply turn and walk home. She didn't have to meet Ty. No one was forcing her, and she certainly didn't have to answer to Cash Rawlings.

Reagan decided to make her move. She would give Cash a few more words to put him in his place and then walk home. In her mood, she'd be there in a matter of seconds.

But in truth, more time had passed than she figured. Before she could do anything, she looked up to see that Ty was nearly upon her.

Nine

“H
ELLO
, R
EAGAN
,” T
Y SAID
,
A HUGE SMILE
on his face. “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” Reagan said, relaxing a little. Why hadn't she just told Cash that she didn't fear Ty and let it go at that? Indeed, looking into his handsome, smiling face, she couldn't think why she hadn't told him to come for her at the house.

“Are you ready to go?” Ty asked; he hadn't even noticed Cash's presence on the bench against the building.

“I am, yes, but I do have one question. What kind of work do you want me to do?”

Ty licked his lips. “Can't we talk about it over dinner?”

“Well, in truth,” Reagan improvised, trying to keep her voice normal, though she was suddenly nervous, “you shouldn't have to spend money on a meal for me if I wouldn't be suited for the job. Why waste your time and efforts?”

“It's no waste of time, Reagan.” His voice grew perceptibly warmer. “I want to buy you dinner.”

Reagan caught the tone and stiffened her resolve even as she sensed the whole evening was about to fall into a heap around her ankles.

“Please tell me.”

Clearly he didn't want to, but there was no missing the set line of her jaw.