He didn't come any farther inside. All he said was, "Are
you ready?" and she silently got up, turned off the light and the television, and picked up her purse.
He opened the truck door for her, his southern manners still holding sway despite a decade of self-imposed exile. Roanna climbed inside, concentrating on not giving any flinches that betrayed her physical discomfort, and settled herself. Now that it was daylight, she could tell that the truck was gunmetal gray.. with a gray interior, and was fairly new. There was an extra stick shift on the floor, meaning it was four-wheel drive, probably a necessity for taking it across the range.
As Webb slid behind the wheel, he slanted her an unreadable glance. She wondered if he expected her to either start planning a wedding or pitch a fit because he'd left her alone this morning. She did neither. She sat silently.
"Hungry? She shook her head, then remembered that he liked verbal answers.
"No, thank you."
His lips thinned as he started the motor and reversed out of the parking spot.
"You're going to eat. You've gained a little weight, and it looks good on you. I'm not going to let you catch your flight without eating."
She hadn't booked a return flight, because she hadn't known how long she would be staying. She opened her mouth to say so, then caught the flinty expression in his eyes and realized he had booked one for her.
"When am I leaving?"
"One o'clock. I managed to get you on a direct flight from Tucson to Dallas. Your connection in Dallas is a bit tight, forty-five minutes, but it'll get you into Huntsville at a reasonable hour. You should get home around ten, ten thirty tonight. Do you have to call anyone to pick you up in Huntsville?" "No." She had driven herself to the airport, because no one else had been willing to get up at three-thirty to perform the service. No, that wasn't fair. She hadn't asked anyone to do it. She never asked anyone to do anything for her.
By the time she ate, as he seemed determined for her to do, she would have to leave almost immediately in order to turn in her rental car at the airport and make it to the gate in time to board. He hadn't left her any breathing space, probably by design. He didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to spend any more time in her company than necessary.
"There's a little place not far from here that serves breakfast until eleven. The food's plain, but good."
"Just drop me off at the bar so I can pick up my car," she said as she looked out the window, anywhere but at him.
"I'll stop at a fast-food place."
"I doubt it," he said grimly.
"I'm going to watch every bite go into your mouth."
"I eat now and then," she replied in a mild tone.
"I learned how."
"Then you won't mind if I watch."
She recognized that tone, the one he used when he'd made up his mind that you were going to do something, so you might as well not argue. When she'd been younger, that tone had been of infinite comfort, symbolizing the rock steadiness and security she had so desperately needed after her parents' death. In an odd way it was still comforting; he might not like her, might not desire her, but at least he didn't want her to starve to death.
The little restaurant he took her to wasn't much bigger than the kitchen at Davencourt, with a couple of booths, a couple of tiny tables, and four stools lined up at the counter. The rich scent of frying bacon and sausage was in the air, underlaid with that of coffee and the spiciness of chili peppers. Two sun-baked old men were in the back booth, and they both looked up with interest as Webb escorted Roanna to the other booth.
A thin woman of indeterminate age, her skin baked as hard and brown as that of the two old men, approached the booth. She pulled a green order pad out of the hip pocket of her jeans and held a stubby pencil at the ready.
Evidently there was no menu. Roanna looked at Webb in question.
"I'll have the short stack, ham and eggs on the side, sunny side up," he said, "and she'll have an egg, plain scrambled, with dry toast, bacon, and hash browns. Coffee for both of us."
"We can't do eggs sunny side up no more. Health Department rules," the waitress said. "Then I want them well done but take them up early."
"Gotcha." The waitress tore the top sheet off the pad as she walked over to an opening cut out in the wall. She laid the ticket on the sill.
"Betts! Got an order."
"You must eat here often," Roanna said.
6'1 usually stop by whenever I'm in town."
"What does plain scrambled mean?"
"No peppers."
it was on the tip of her tongue to ask if they called that fancy scrambled but bit the comment back. How easy it would be to fall into the old habits with him! she thought sadly. But she had learned to curb her quips, because most people didn't appreciate even the milder ones. Webb had once seemed to, but perhaps he'd been kind.
The waitress set two steaming cups of coffee in front of them.
"Cream' she asked, and Webb said, "No," answering for both of them.
"It'll take me at least a week, maybe two, to get things squared away here," he said abruptly.
"I'm keeping my ranch, so I'll be flying back and forth. Davencourt won't be my sole concern."
She sipped her coffee to hide her relief. He was still coming home! He'd said he would if she'd sleep with him, but until now she hadn't been certain he'd meant it. It wouldn't have made any difference if she'd known for sure he was lying; no matter what the day had brought, last night had been a dream come true for her, and she had grabbed at it with both hands.
"Lucinda wouldn't expect you to sell the ranch," she said.