High Lonesome (17 page)

He grinned. “Didn’t we all? I wouldn’t mind a walk. How about you, Beth?”

“It’s a lovely evening.” She inhaled in a breath of air. “A walk would be nice.”

Hoards of people filled Main Street. Shop doors were open wide, music blared from a club on the corner, and enticing smells drifted out from the many cafes and restaurants lining the quaint downtown avenue. As the golden sun floated below the horizon, colorful lights strung across shop doors warmed to a soft, inviting glow.

“This town is really hopping. Is it always so busy on a Friday night?” Beth asked.

“Yeah, Main Street is the place to be. This is a small town, and what we offer may not be so cultured, but there’s always something going on.”

“I love the friendly, family atmosphere. It reminds me of when I was a girl, when life was simple. I grew up in a little town like this.”

He stopped, whirled, and put his hand on her arm. “What do you remember about your town? What was the name of it? Can you recall any landmarks?”

She stared down at his hand clamped upon her wrist.

He removed it and said, “I’m sorry. I just got so excited. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine.” She smiled.

“So, what do you remember?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “I remember a small town, but nothing specific. The words just slipped out of my mouth. It was more of a fond feeling rather than a true memory.”

“Oh.”

They began to stroll again.

“What’s going on over there?” she inquired, pointing to a building on the corner. There seemed to be a lot of activity and noise coming from inside.

“Bingo!” Willow shouted. “Can we go play, Daddy? Please, please, please.” Willow wrenched his hand, pulling him down the walk toward the Bingo parlor. Beth followed along.

The doors were propped open and inside the hall were a dozen tables, lined one in front of the other with young and old hunched over their cards. The caller was an elderly lady with blue hair, done up in a beehive. She hollered “B, 14” as they entered.

“Please, Daddy. You know how I
love
Bingo.” Willow cast him her best hangdog expression, which never failed to cause him to melt like snow on a spring day.

“Your tummy sure got better fast,” he teased.

He and Beth smiled at one another. “Have you ever played Bingo?” he asked her.

“Probably when I was younger. Let’s go in,” she urged. “I feel lucky tonight.”

“Me, too.” Scott winked at his daughter.

The three of them found spots at the very back table, with Willow sitting in the middle. They poised their markers over their cards as the caller rapped her fist on the podium and hollered into the microphone. “Take your seats. A new game is starting.” She had a hard time getting people’s attention because an older gentleman in a ten-gallon hat across the aisle had just won twenty dollars and was still being congratulated. The new game commenced, and a teenage boy shouted “Bingo” almost as fast as the game had started. He won ten bucks. Everyone laughed when he jumped into the aisle and celebrated by doing a few silly dance moves.

“Sit down, sonny,” the lady yelled from up on the stage. “Next game is beginning!”

“This is fun!” Willow exclaimed. “Don’t you think so, Beth?”

“Yes. I do. Is the parlor open every Friday night?”

“Yep. Do you want to come back next week?” Scott asked.

He and she glanced at one another. He wondered what the chances would be of her staying at the High Lonesome another week. Not likely, he figured, if Buddy did his job.

The next game began. “N, 6,” the lady yelled. “Oh, I’ve got that one,” Beth said, unbelieving. “First one I’ve gotten so far.”

“Lucky you,” Scott shook his head at his empty card.

“O, 23.”

“What do you know? I’ve got that one, too.” Beth smiled broadly.

“Next number. G, 21.”

“G, 21,” Beth repeated. “Oh, my gosh. I’ve got it.”

Scott and Willow grinned at her from across their blank cards.

“Next number coming up!” The lady shouted into the mike, “B, 63!”

“I’ve got B 63!” Willow cried.

Beth squeezed her shoulder. “You won’t believe it, but so do I.”

Willow’s mouth opened, forming an o. “One more and you’ve got Bingo.”

Beth glanced at the next table and saw an old lady glaring at them. The lady was huddled over her card, protecting it like a mother bear would protect her cub.

The blue-haired lady caller declared the next number. “I, 85.”

Beth’s eyes swept over her card. “I, 85. I, 85. I’ve got it! Bingo!” she screamed. “Bingo! Right here, I’ve got a Bingo!” She shook Scott’s shoulder, and he and Willow both laughed.

The checker, an older gentleman wearing bib overalls, hobbled over and announced the marks on her card one at a time. His voice boomed. “N, 6. G, 21. O, 23, B, 63, and I, 85. She’s got ‘em, Martha,” he informed the caller. “She’s got a Bingo!”

“Yippee!” Willow yelled. “Way to go, Beth!”

“What did I win? What did I win?” Beth asked. She was as excited as a child on Christmas morning.

The caller declared her the big winner of the night. “You’ve won fifty dollars! Congratulations, honey.”

The old man who had checked her card pulled a fifty-dollar bill out of his pocket and placed it in Beth’s open palm. He flashed her a semi-toothless smile. “Don’t spend it all in one place, miss.”

“Fifty dollars!” Beth gave Willow a hug. Scott stood and opened his arms, hoping for a hug of his own. Apparently without thinking, Beth melted into his embrace. She tossed her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek as the crowd of onlookers clapped and whistled.

His arms slipped around her waist, and he pulled her tight against his chest. Beth held onto the taut muscles of his back. He let his fingers skim over her hips and nudged her ear with his lips. Within seconds, she disentangled herself from his hold.

“I can’t believe I won,” she said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and not looking him in the eye. Feeling her blue chill, the muscle in Scott’s jaw twitched.

“It’s hot in here. I could use some air. I’m going to step outside for a moment.” She fanned her face with her hand and started for the door.

“Maybe we should all call it a night,” Scott said to stop her. “What do you say, Willow? Had enough Bingo for one evening?”

Nodding, she stifled a yawn.

They left their cards and markers on the table, stepped out of the warm hall into air that had grown cooler, and began the trek back to the hospital parking lot. Willow begged Scott to carry her. He hoisted her onto his back, and she clung like a monkey with her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

The lemony moon dangled like a slice of pie, surrounded by millions of twinkling white stars. Beth looked up and sighed. “Thank you for tonight, Scott. I enjoyed coming to town and interacting with the community. I felt welcome.” It seemed she wanted to keep the conversation light and pretend their second close encounter of the day hadn’t taken place.

Scott smiled, but didn’t reply. Touching her for a few short seconds had not been enough.

When they reached his truck, Willow stirred and moaned. Keeping his hands securely clasped around her body, he asked Beth to grab the keys out of the front pocket of his jeans. She hesitated before slipping her fingers into the pocket to retrieve the truck keys. Although it was a legitimate request, given his hands weren’t free, the act was an intimate one—one that caused his heart to race like a stampeding horse as her fingers grazed his hard upper thigh through his pants. Her hand visibly shook as she unlocked the passenger door. Scott deposited Willow in the middle of the seat and buckled her in. Beth slid in next to her. She cranked the window halfway and let the sounds of the night stream in.

They bounced along the back road toward High Lonesome with the creamy moon as their guide. Willow slumped over and laid her head in Beth’s lap. Half asleep, she wiggled around until she found a comfortable position, where she stayed the rest of the way. Seeing Beth stroke his child’s silky hair with her fingertips sent an arrow to Scott’s heart.

Silence filled the space between him and Beth, each lost in their own thoughts.

All was quiet at the ranch when they drove in. There were still lights on in a few of the small cabins below, but the main house was silent as a tomb when they entered. It was dark, except for the soft glowing night light in the hall. Scott carried Willow to her bedroom, with Beth following. Without asking, she undressed the child, slipped a nightgown over her head, and Scott tucked the covers up under her chin. They lingered over her for a moment.

After clicking the room door shut, the two of them stood facing each other in the hallway. Moonlight shone through the windows of the great room and bathed them in silvery rays.

Scott whispered, “You’re so good with her. Thank you for taking time to do her hair and help her get dressed. I know she felt like a little princess. Times like these are when I most regret she doesn’t have a mother.”

“She’s going to be all right, Scott. You’re a wonderful father.”

“I know, but a little girl needs a mother. And a man needs a wife. Someone he can share life’s ups and downs with. A woman who’ll love him with her whole heart and soul, and accept all he has to offer in return. That’s something I long for again. I didn’t realize how badly, until you came along. I want a family. More children. And a woman—my soul mate.” The long string of words was more than he’d intended, but once he’d started, there was no reeling them in.

Beth’s eyes enlarged, and he knew he’d scared her. When her shock had ebbed, she calmly asked, “Then why don’t you ask Doctor Coleman to marry you?”

Shocked into silence, Scott couldn’t speak. Beth said “good night” and strode down the hall to her room. She reached for the doorknob.

“Please wait.” His voice was but a whisper. She stopped and turned toward him. Feeling passion beyond words, he gazed into her eyes. A flame sizzled through his veins. He’d go crazy if he didn’t taste her kiss. Threading his fingers underneath her hair to cradle her head, his mouth tenderly pressed to hers, showering her with complete devotion in that one long, lingering kiss.

When their mouths parted, Beth exhaled a gentle rush of air. She traced the curve of his jaw with her finger. Tears glistened. Disappointment hammered through him to see the depth of pain fill her eyes.

“We can’t do this, Scott,” she whispered. “Please don’t make it harder than it already is. You must forget about me.”

He palmed her cheek. “I can’t. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes, and he felt her body shudder.

The silence between them was suddenly broken by the low hum of the central air conditioning whose condenser suddenly kicked on.

“Good night, Scott.” She flung open the guest room door and let it close with a soft snap behind her.

He stood outside the door debating on whether to knock on it and tell her he’d fallen in love, or to leave her alone. His heart boomed inside his chest like thunder. He raised his fist, and then lowered it again.
Why am I doing this to myself? She believes she’s married with a child. That can only mean trouble and heartbreak, for both of us. Maybe the amnesia has confused her dreams, and the man in them hasn’t been abusive at all. If that’s the case, he’ll come for her, and she’ll leave with him and get on with her life.

The prospects of having to say goodbye to her caused him anguish like he hadn’t experienced in four years. With Maggie’s death, he’d suffered unbearable, heartbreaking loss. It was the kind of loss intended to make him stronger, but it only made him realize how fleeting life was. He knew he was vulnerable, but dammit, he’d fallen in love. There was no denying it. The thought of watching Beth walk away out of his life scared him to death.

He climbed the stairs to his empty room, slipped off his clothes, and crawled into bed. His limbs felt heavy, and his mind spun. Sleep was slow to come, but when it did, hours later, he dreamed of a green-eyed angel that flew away from him on a sure-footed horse with wings.

Chapter Eight

Jack West’s muscular arms pumped from side to side. Every once in a while, he’d extend one and point it toward the television suspended from the ceiling in his home gym. He channel surfed between news stations. He liked to watch CNN or the local news as he ran.

Jack punched a button and the belt speed picked up. His athletic shoes thumped on the hard rubber—left, right, left, right, left, right. Running like a cougar on the treadmill, he barely broke a sweat. At six foot two and one hundred eighty-five pounds, the chiseled athlete considered himself more machine than man.

Exercising had always been a way of keeping his body in the shape he desired, but in recent years, it had also become a release—a stress reliever—from the daily grind of life. That kind of release was required now, more than ever, to channel the torture he’d experienced the past few days since his wife had disappeared.

Angela, his beautiful wife of eight years, had been missing for several days. Technically, she was his ex-wife, but Jack was not the kind of man to bother with technicalities.

He’d driven to his former home the morning she disappeared to visit with his daughter in the time he’d been allotted by Court Order after the divorce. It was a magnificent brick home on a cul-de-sac in one of the ritziest neighborhoods in Tucson. He’d worked like a dog for years to provide that kind of home for his family. Even when he thought about it now, it still pissed him off that the judge had just handed the house over to Angela as part of the divorce settlement.

As usual, he and Angela had disagreed. They’d had a small argument over something almost as soon as he’d stepped through the front door. He couldn’t even remember what the fight was about now. He’d taken Heather to the park so both he and Angela could cool down. When he returned several hours later, he found Angie gone. At first, he’d thought she was off running errands, or visiting Faith, the neighbor next door. Then he remembered Faith was out of town and wouldn’t be home for another week or so. He called the neighbor on the other side, but she hadn’t seen his wife either.