Chemistry Lessons (7 page)

Destry pushed the cart of textbooks back to Rosie’s classroom. What was
it Tanner said to her?
We can go ring shopping while we’re at it.
Rosie
wasn’t thinking of marrying him, was she? He seemed so uptight.

Rosie’s door was locked. He left the cart outside her classroom and
turned to go back to the supply room when he saw the school secretary
approaching. She was a tiny woman in her late twenties with the kind of curves
most men preferred. Her long mahogany hair cascaded in loose curls down her
back.  She wasn’t at all the type of woman Destry would have expected to meet
in Lone Spur. She had the exotic good looks of a news anchor from San Antonio.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Steadman. We haven’t been introduced. I was trying to
get all the papers in order this morning when you came in to meet with Phil.”
She reached her hand toward him with all the polish of a debutante. “I’m
Mercedes Santiago.”

“Call me Destry.” He shook hands with her, noticing the softness of her
skin and the fact that she didn’t wear a wedding ring. “Can I help you with
something?”

“Have you seen Ms. Curtis?” she said.

“She went to lunch.” He checked his watch. “About ten minutes ago.”

Bringing a hand to her forehead, she closed her eyes. “There’s been an
emergency. I need to get in touch with her.”

He immediately thought of Rosie’s grandfather. Rosie had said something
about him having heart trouble. “She’s with Tanner—I can’t remember his last
name.”

“You mean Tanner Smith. Yeah, those two are together a lot. I tried
calling him too. He didn’t answer either.” She bit her lip. “Ms. Curtis’s
grandpa fell. Betty McFerrin found him. She’s taking him to the hospital.”

He gulped. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Rosie likes to go to
lunch?”

“There are only three places in town.” She ticked them off on her
fingers. “La Cocina, Pecos Bill’s, and The Little Red Hen. They’re all on Main
Street.”

It sounded easy enough. He’d seen all those places before. “I’ll try to
find her.” All he had to do was drive past them until he found Tanner’s
gas-guzzler.

He sprinted to his BMW. With the elderly, one never knew how bad a fall
could be. Rosie would want to know about it as soon as possible.

* * *

As he drove along the river and then crossed the bridge to Main Street,
he considered the possibilities—Pecos Bill’s sounded like a place that served
steak, La Cocina was obviously Mexican, and The Little Red Hen sounded
traditional. Which one would Rosie choose? He turned toward La Cocina, even
though it was the only one to the right.

Within five minutes, he’d parked and was headed into the Mexican restaurant.
The building resembled an old adobe home, but inside it looked more
nineteen-eighties with wood paneling, Formica tabletops, and burgundy vinyl on
the booth seats. Navajo blankets hung here and there along the walls. He held a
hand up when he saw Tanner sitting by himself at a corner booth by the window.
Tanner ignored him, dipping a chip into a bowl of salsa.

Destry barely suppressed an eye roll as he made his way across the
room. He stopped in front of Tanner, who still hadn’t looked back up. “Sorry to
interrupt, but I need to find Rosie.”

Tanner dipped another chip. “She’s on her lunch break.”

“Mr. Curtis fell. He’s on his way to the hospital.”

That got Tanner’s attention. “What?”

“Betty found him. She’s taking him to the hospital, but she hasn’t been
able to reach Rosie.”

Tanner’s gaze shifted to the other side of the room. “Here she comes.”
Destry turned to see Rosie leaving the restroom. She glanced from one man to
the other with an open mouth. She’d worn a little crease between her eyebrows
all morning, and now he was bringing her more stress.

He spoke as she approached. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your
grandpa fell this morning.”

Her eyes widened. “Is he okay?”

“I’m not sure. Betty’s been trying to call you about it. Last I heard,
they were on their way to the hospital.” The hospital was over sixty miles
away. He guessed it would take Betty almost an hour to get there.

Rosie already had her phone to her ear with a look of concern on her
face. “I should have returned Betty’s calls.” She headed toward the door. Then
she turned back to Tanner. “Can I borrow your car?”

Tanner stood. “I’ll drive you.”

“Not on your first day of work,” she said before she spoke into the
phone. “Hi, Betty. I’m so sorry I didn’t call back sooner. What’s going on?”
She listened for about a minute and then asked, “Is his heart okay?”

While she listened some more, Destry whispered to Tanner. “I can drive
you to work if you’d like.”

Tanner nodded slowly, but he didn’t answer.

“Thanks so much for your help,” Rosie said into the phone. “I’ll be
there as soon as I can.” She ended the call and held out her hand for Tanner’s
keys. “Sounds like he broke his ankle. It’s nothing too bad, but they need me
there to talk to the doctors. You two might as well stay and eat the lunch we
ordered.”

Tanner handed her the keys. Then he walked her out to the truck,
opening the door for her and kissing her forehead before she drove off. Destry waited
at the table, unsure what to do. A dark-haired waitress arrived with two
plates. Her name tag read
Janessa
.

“This is still Tanner’s table,” Destry explained. “You can leave the
plates.”

“Okay.” She spoke in the overenthusiastic tones of a preschool teacher,
her voice sounding too high-pitched. She couldn’t have been more than twenty
years old. “Here’s Tanner’s chicken chimichanga.” She placed the plate on the
table and paused with her eyes on his. Once she put the other plate down, she
stuck out her chest just the slightest bit. “And Ms. Curtis’s pork enchiladas.”
She rested her hand on the edge of the table and stepped closer to him. “You
must be visiting the Smiths.”

He thrust out his hand toward her, trying to bring a business air to
the encounter. “I’m Destry Steadman. I’m new in town.”

Her mouth dropped open as she took his hand. “So you’re the famous
Destry. I’m Janessa Moore.” She looked him up and down. “You’re even cuter in
person.”

He didn’t know how to answer, so he stared at the big plate of
enchiladas drenched in green chili sauce instead—
that
was the real
temptation here.

The front door swung open, Tanner returned to the table, and Janessa
retreated back to the kitchen. Tanner motioned for him to have a seat. “Want an
enchilada?”

He remained standing. “I’ll be happy to pay for it.”

“Whatever you want.” Tanner slid into the seat and dug into his
chimichanga.

He sat across from him and took a bite. The enchilada was spicier than
he had imagined. He reached for his water glass, saw it was only half-full, and
then remembered it wasn’t his—it was Rosie’s. How would Tanner feel about him
drinking from her water? He ate some chips instead.

Tanner let out a chuckle. “Rosie always requests the extra hot version.
Sorry I forgot to warn you.”

He had the feeling Tanner had intentionally forgotten. He scraped the
green chili sauce off his enchiladas. “She’s full of surprises, isn’t she?”

Tanner puffed out his chest. “No one knows that better than I do.”

He kept eye contact, smiling and trying to blow off the man’s arrogance.
“You’re a lucky man, Tanner.”

“I sure am.”

They ate in silence for a minute while Destry tried to come up with a
neutral topic of conversation—something other than Rosie. “What is it you do
for a living?” he asked.

Anger flashed in Tanner’s eyes before he answered. “I’m a science
teacher at the middle school.”

It didn’t take him long to guess that Tanner might have also applied
for the science teacher position at the high school. That would explain Rosie’s
irritation. He sipped his water—Rosie’s water. “I’ve got to hand it to you for
teaching middle school. Kids that age can be brutal.”

“That’s what I’ve heard, but they never give me trouble.” Tanner stared
at him. “It’s a good job for a man who plans to start a family.”

He planned to start a family with Rosie? She’d never mentioned anything
about that. Neither had Mr. Curtis. The way she treated those animals, Rosie
would probably be a good mother.

He spooned a little more sauce onto his next bite. The fire of it
flared in his mouth, distracting him from whatever painful emotion had just
surfaced.

It wasn’t quite jealousy. It was closer to loneliness, an emotion he’d
battled over the past year. Had it only been a year since he’d thought about
starting a family with Tiffany? Back then, he thought he shared a connection
with her. Was he ever wrong! When he talked to her about Cody’s problems, she
encouraged him in the decision to cut Cody off. “If you keep paying him and
letting him live in your house, you’re enabling him,” she’d said.

After Cody’s death, though, Tiffany couldn’t handle the public
criticism. She left him to get through it alone. That’s why Tanner was lucky.
Rosie would never change her mind that way.

In other ways, Destry was lucky too. He had friends back in
Philadelphia who went with him on his adventures and a dad who phoned
regularly. But he longed for a romantic partner who would support him through
the tough times as well as through his successes.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Destry didn’t make another
attempt at conversation until they’d paid their separate bills. “I wonder how
Mr. Curtis will manage with a broken ankle.”

Tanner stood and pulled a generous tip from his wallet, slapping it
down on the table. “He’s a tough old cowboy. He’ll figure it out. He always
does.”

Destry added to the tip. “Falls are a complicated thing. The doctors
might not release him to come back home for a while.”

“He won’t put up with that,” Tanner said, his voice holding a note of
certainty.

As they walked out of the restaurant, Destry wondered how Rosie would
manage if Mr. Curtis had to spend time in a rehabilitation facility before he
came home. “I’ll be happy to help with anything. I’m right down the lane.”

“Thanks,” Tanner said. “I think we’ve got things covered. Rosie and I
are used to taking care of him. But since you mentioned living right down the
lane, I hope you don’t mind my saying that I’d like to see you change your
plans for that resort of yours.”

Destry unlocked his car and spoke in a monotone, just as he had for all
those long years in corporate management whenever someone voiced a complaint. “I
understand your concern.” He’d never made an important decision without at
least a few people voicing their dissent. This situation would be no different.
He just had to gain Tanner’s trust. “I’ll be happy to go over our plans with
you and Rosie if you’d like.”

After they got in the car, Tanner continued. “My objection centers on
the type of people you’re bringing in.” He spoke in a low voice, pausing
between phrases, as if he were disciplining a child. “Lone Spur is no place for
addicts.”

“
Former
addicts,” Destry corrected. He could tell Tanner was one
of those people who believed what he wanted to believe. Nothing Destry said
would make that much difference.

He had thought moving to a small town would help him feel part of a
community. It wouldn’t be like Philadelphia, where he would always be a
stranger to most people walking down the street. Here in Lone Spur, most people
already recognized him. But he was still an outsider. He hoped working at the
high school would change that.

He knew his way around town well enough that he didn’t need directions
to the middle school. He dropped Tanner off at the front of the building with
hardly a word. Even if Rosie didn’t make it back with his truck in time, Tanner
wouldn’t want a ride home from Destry. He’d made his feelings clear. He
probably also wanted Destry to keep his distance from Rosie and her grandpa.
That was something Destry wouldn’t do.

Rosie arrived at the hospital in time to meet Grandpa coming out of the
Emergency Room on a gurney. The bottom half of his leg was in a soft cast. He
also had his right arm in a sling. How could she ever forgive herself for
ignoring those phone calls? It wasn’t like Betty ever called her that much in
one day. She should have known it was something this serious.

Grandpa wore a frown on his face. “Now don’t start.”

She grabbed his big, callused hand. “Are you okay?”

His hand trembled in hers. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine.
I just have to stay the night because of my ticker.”

She looked at the medical assistant who pushed the wheelchair. “He can’t
come home until tomorrow?”

The assistant shook his head. “I’m taking him up to room 205.” He
pushed the wheelchair past her, heading toward the elevators.

Betty followed behind Grandpa, looking the same as ever with her light
brown helmet of hair and dangling gold earrings. She wore a red blazer with
dark wash jeans. Gold bangles clicked together at her wrist. She hugged Rosie. “Oh,
honey, I’m sorry I had to bother you at work.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Rosie said, stopping beside
Grandpa’s wheelchair at the elevator.

Betty grasped Rosie’s arm. “It’s no problem. I’m here anyway. The
doctor said he broke his ankle and his elbow, but they won’t know the full
extent of the damage until the swelling goes down.”

The elevator dinged.

“Well, Grandpa,” Rosie said. “That’s what getting on a ladder will do
for you.” What possessed an eighty-year-old to climb a ladder anyway?

Grandpa pointed to the black sneaker on his good foot as the medical
assistant maneuvered him into the elevator. “It wasn’t the ladder. It was these
old shoes.”

Betty held the elevator door and raised her voice so Grandpa could
hear. “I promised the doctor I’d be around to help during the day while he
recovers.”

 Grandpa grimaced. “I still have one good leg. I can take care of
myself.”

Rosie stepped into the elevator. “Thank you, Betty. I don’t know what
we would have done without you.”

“It’s no problem,” Betty said as the elevator doors closed.

Grandpa squirmed in the seat of his wheelchair, trying to get
comfortable. “I’m not so old I can’t take care of myself.”

Rosie raised her voice so he could hear her from where she stood. “It’s
not about age. It’s about the doctor’s orders.”

Betty checked her watch as they got off the elevator. “I should get
going,” she said in a voice just loud enough for Rosie to hear. “I’ll have one
of my boys go check on your animals when I get home. Oh, and I called your
Uncle Jeff. He’s on his way.”

On top of everything else that had happened today, Uncle Jeff was
coming. She clenched her jaw. That’s what she deserved for ignoring all those
phone calls. Her uncle had a way of taking over everything when he visited. He
would probably perceive Grandpa’s accident as a signal that more changes needed
to be made—specifically that he needed to sell the ranch.

She followed Grandpa to his hospital room, pressing her fingers to her
temples as a tension headache tightened its grip.

After the staff got Grandpa in his bed and all hooked up to the heart
monitor, he fell asleep. There wasn’t much for her to do but watch TV and
wonder what happened between Destry and Tanner after she left the restaurant.
Thus, the hours crept by, and she wished she had at least brought her laptop
from school. Of course, with the headache she had brewing, she might not have
gotten much work done anyway.

At about nine p.m., her uncle strode into the room in his pinstriped
suit. He was a tall, dark, middle-aged man whose wife owned a successful chain
of sandwich shops. Her mother’s theory was that since Uncle Jeff was always
second-in-command at home, he had to be first-in-command everywhere else.

 Grandpa was still asleep, and Rosie didn’t want to waste time talking.
“Can you spell me for the night?” she asked. “I’ve got a monster headache.”

“Sure thing,” he said. “I’m sorry you’ve had to bear the brunt of all
this. While I’m here, I’m going to take care of things, so you won’t have to
worry anymore.” He sounded casual, but Rosie knew what it meant. He wanted Grandpa
to sell the ranch. “There’s no use drawing things out any longer.”