Wife Wanted in Dry Creek (4 page)

“Walk on the road,” Conrad said. Katrina and the youngest boy had come out behind Ryan and waited on the slab. “There’s no mud on the asphalt.”

“Maybe we could go off the road a little,” Ryan suggested hopefully as he stepped to the edge of the pavement. “I can carry my shoes so they won’t get dirty. I see a worm out there.”

Katrina turned around. “You don’t want to get the floor of the café all muddy when we go to breakfast.”

Conrad laughed. What boy that age was worried about a floor? “That worm is long gone. Besides, you’ll have to keep your feet and your shoes clean if you want your aunt to take your picture. Your clothes, too.”

“Oh,” Ryan said with a nod. “I guess so.”

Conrad kept his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he led the way to the café. “People don’t really take that many
pictures around here. We’re too close to the Black Hills, I guess. They get more striking pictures there.”

“Are we going there, Aunt Kat-rr—” Ryan gave up on the name and just looked up at her. The boy seemed anxious and Conrad watched him carefully as he continued. “You’re still going to take our pictures, aren’t you?”

Conrad relaxed. The boy just wanted his quarters. He was greedy, not afraid.

“I hope so, sweetie,” Katrina said softly as she guided Zach down the street.

She held the umbrella over her head, but the rain slanted in sideways and Conrad could see that her hair was getting damp. He hoped her black jacket didn’t get too wet. Her jeans would survive a soaking, but the leather looked imported. She had probably gotten it at Rodeo Drive down in Beverly Hills. He was getting ready to caution her to be careful of the rain, when she stepped over a crack in the asphalt in her high heels and he forgot all about the weather.

He almost had to stop and catch his breath again. The sight of those black patent leather straps wrapped around her delicate ankles made him think of the grand Hollywood movie stars of old like Marilyn Monroe. Those shoes of Katrina’s were all steam and sizzle. He hoped that none of the ranch hands from the Elkton place were at the café. They’d see those shoes as an invitation to flirt shamelessly. She even had her toenails painted a deep red. He’d never seen feet look so pretty in the rain.

“I have some boots you can borrow,” he said.

Katrina turned around, a stricken expression on her face. “You’re right. I can’t go to pri—” she stopped herself. “I couldn’t go with the sheriff in my high heels. I meant to put tennis shoes in the trunk, but they’re in my car—not my sister’s.”

“They’re nice shoes,” Conrad felt obliged to say. He wasn’t the kind of man to be taken in by nice footwear, however. He hoped that, if there were any ranch hands at the café, they didn’t decide to help her get out of town before the sheriff got all his information. Some of them would do that for a woman wearing shoes like that.

They finished walking down the road together.

“Nice place,” Katrina said as they started walking up the steps to the café porch. There was an overhang so rain wasn’t hitting them where they stood. Katrina lowered her umbrella and shook it out. Ryan was already up to the door and Zach was holding on to Katrina’s leg.

“I’ll carry the umbrella in for you,” Conrad said, but all he did was stand there looking at her. He told himself he was making sure no one could tell she was suspected of a crime before they went inside. He didn’t know what clues he was looking for, though.

Strands of Katrina’s hair were wet and hanging down. She was no longer as perfect as she had been when she drove into his gas station and he liked her better for it. Drops of rain glistened on her cheeks. Her eyes were warm and a little shy.

If this were one of those old Hollywood movies,
Conrad decided he would be saying something romantic about now. He tried to make the notion go away, but it lingered in his mind. It was just that all of the talk lately about him getting married was stirring around in his mind. He needed to put it to rest. She certainly wasn’t the kind of woman he intended to become involved with. He already knew she was trouble. She cried. She liked old bent-up signs. She shouted to make herself heard by an old man she thought was deaf. She drank cold coffee. He wanted to like his wife, not love her. He’d learned how much love could hurt when his mother died. Katrina was just too intense for him.

And she had rain dripping down her cheeks. He reached out and wiped a drop away.

“It’s not another tear,” she said. “I was just caught by surprise earlier. I’m really not that much of a crybaby.”

Another raindrop slid down her cheek and he caught that one, too. Her skin was cool and smooth like polished marble. “You had cause.”

She seemed surprised at that. He winced. He had no business saying something like that. He needed to bury his emotions. For all he knew, she could be lying about her sister—and the car. She might not be striving to be a photographer or a good aunt. She might even have known he was the kind of guy to give away a new muffler to someone who couldn’t pay for it. She might be playing him for an old fool.

“Hey, who are those people?” Ryan interrupted as he stepped between them.

Conrad looked at where they boy was pointing. And there they were. Half a dozen faces were gathered around the front window of the café, shamelessly watching him and Katrina through the glass. He could call them out by name. Elmer. Uncle Charley. Aunt Edith. Linda Enger, the owner of the café. Pete Denning who worked at the Elkton ranch. And, the most surprising one of all, Tracy. What was she doing here? She lived in Miles City.

“Do you know those people?” Katrina asked.

By now, half of the people on the café side of the window were waving and smiling at them, trying to make it seem like they were just being friendly. Linda and Tracy weren’t looking so happy, but, smiling or not, he could hardly disown any of them.

“Unfortunately, yes. I know them,” he said and, with that, he stepped over and opened the door.

“We’ve been expecting you,” Linda said as she came over to the entry. Her voice was cool when she said it, though, which was unusual for her. “Charley just told us you were on your way here.”

“Good,” Conrad said. Why did she make it sound like Charley had warned them? Surely, Charley hadn’t said anything about the car being stolen. He noticed Linda hadn’t taken the good silverware off her tables so she couldn’t be too worried about theft.

Linda held out two menus. “Welcome.”

“Your place is beautiful,” Katrina said as she took one of the menus and looked around. “Are those antiques on the wall?”

Linda stiffened. “They’re just family items. Nothing valuable.”

“They’ve been hanging there forever,” Conrad added. “No resale value at all.”

Well, maybe Linda did know about the car. He didn’t think there was any cause for concern, though. The old memorabilia hanging on the walls was there to add to the fifties look of the café. He knew the guitar on the left side had belonged to Linda’s husband, Duane, when he was a boy; now he was a famous musician called The Jazz Man. The rolling pin had been discovered in the café when they remodeled it years ago. No one knew how old that was although the handle was engraved with a woman’s name. The mirror had come out of the farmhouse where Linda and her sister, Lucy, had grown up.

“I’m keeping a couple of tables for you to the side,” Linda finally said. She gestured to them. “I have my special kids’ table set up for the boys. It’s got bibs, crayons, that kind of thing. A special tablecloth they can color on.”

Linda had her trademark white chef’s apron on and a streak of gold in her dark hair. It had been a long time since Linda wore streaks, Conrad thought. When she first started with the café she used to have a different color in her hair every few days. But she’d calmed down in the years since then.

“We don’t need anything fancy,” Conrad muttered in case she was on some creative kick. “Place settings or food, just regular will do.”

He remembered that the café owner sometimes cooked gourmet romantic dinners for couples she decided should be together. He didn’t want to scare Katrina away with peach flambé or anything. Besides, she had enough to deal with today. She’d have to talk to the sheriff some more after they ate.

As they walked, Linda touched Conrad on the elbow and motioned for him to hold back. They let Katrina and the boys go far enough ahead that they wouldn’t be able to hear them.

“Why didn’t you tell me your calendar woman was in town?” Linda whispered, low and urgent. She looked distressed. “I finally convince Tracy to come over for lunch, thinking the two of you could—you know—casually sit together. I thought it would cheer her up. And here you are—hours before lunch so there’s no time for my pep talk to her. And there’s no reason to give it anyway since you came in all lovey-dovey with some woman you picked off a calendar!”

“We’re not lovey-dovey.” He was aghast. They hadn’t even kissed. “I was just wiping away the rain.”

“People get wet in the rain. No one needs the drops wiped off their face.”

“Well, maybe not, but—” He realized he had no reasonable excuse to offer so he let the sentence trail off. “I didn’t pick her off the calendar. She just drove into town this morning. Muffler problems. She was going somewhere—I don’t know where, but she didn’t even mean to come here.”

Linda shook her head in bewilderment. “What are
the odds then? No one comes here who’s been on a calendar anyone has seen.”

“I know,” Conrad admitted miserably.

“Especially not when we’re praying for—well, you know.”

“Believe me, I do.”

Neither one of them said anything for a minute.

“Well,” Linda said, her voice suddenly getting a bracing tone to it. “Since that’s how it happened, my advice is to grab your chance. This calendar woman isn’t going to wait around for you forever. Just because your uncle prayed her into town doesn’t mean you can relax. You’ve got to show her a good time. Do more than talk about engines when you eat.”

He was watching Katrina get her nephews settled at the kids’ table. She put a bib on the youngest boy and handed both boys the crayons. They all seemed happy enough.

“Engines run the world,” Conrad said when he looked back at Linda.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not putting any napkins by your plate. All you do is draw those diagrams on them. I know Tracy wouldn’t have minded, but this woman probably doesn’t think like we do around here.”

Conrad had to agree with that, but all he could say was, “I only diagrammed that forward thrust vector once. It got us to the moon.”

“If you’re going to talk about the moon, go outside and look at the moon.”

“It’s raining.”

“You know what I mean.” The café owner had lost her hesitation and seemed to be veering in the opposite direction. “It wouldn’t hurt you to say a few nice things to the woman. She probably expects some oohing and ahhing. She’s gorgeous. Men probably tell her that all the time. You better, too. And ask her what her favorite movie is. Make her think you have a life.”

“I do have a life,” Conrad said, but he was talking to the air. Linda had already walked away.

Before he could gather himself together, Linda was standing at the table where he should be.

“Good, you found the bib and got everyone settled down,” the café owner said to Katrina.

Conrad was almost afraid to join Katrina at the adult table with the pink plastic roses on it. But then he looked behind him and saw his aunt and uncle and Pete and Tracy all staring at him. He wouldn’t want to make the explanations he’d need to make if he didn’t sit down with Katrina and eat.

He smiled at the rear guard. Tracy’s face looked pinched and she’d added some blonde to her brown hair and fussed it up some. Pete had on new boots.

“Just having a late breakfast,” Conrad said with a forced smile. “Tracy, Pete, good to see you.”

Both Tracy and Pete looked startled.

“We’re not together.” Pete’s face reddened.

“I’m just here early for lunch,” Tracy said at the same time. She took a step away from the ranch hand. “I was going to put another streak in Linda’s hair before I eat, but—”

It was hard to know which way the wind blew there, Conrad thought. Ordinarily, Pete would be working at this time of day. He was dressed up in a clean snapped shirt and he had his dark hair slicked back though so it must mean something. Now that Pete was getting older, he’d make some woman a good husband, Conrad thought and then winced. People had probably been saying that same thing about him for years. Maybe Pete was just in town to buy some nails at the hardware store. A man could dress up without needing to walk down the aisle.

Conrad nodded to everyone and turned around to step closer to the table where his fate awaited him. Linda made her coffee strong and he was glad for it. He figured this breakfast would be a long, painful one. Linda might think he should take his chances, but he wasn’t one to throw his heart out there where it was going to be trampled. There was nothing wrong with being cautious when it came to picking out a woman to date.

He sat down at the table and looked up to see Tracy still standing there. Now why couldn’t he be sitting here with her? She wouldn’t care if he rambled on about farm equipment or engines or the price of wheat. And, if she was going to trample on a man’s heart, she wouldn’t do it when she was wearing lethal high heels with those black straps that tied a man up like they did. Tracy could give him free haircuts, too. That had to count for something.

He picked up his menu. The thought came unbidden that he and Tracy had known each other for thirty
years. Granted, she hadn’t lived around here for all of that time, but she’d been back and forth. If they were meant to be together, wouldn’t they have noticed it before now? He glanced back up at her. He wasn’t even sure what kind of shoes she wore. He didn’t think he’d ever noticed her feet.

Well, he told himself, no one ever said love came easy to a man. He’d just need to pay more attention. He could learn all he needed to know about Tracy’s footwear. She would make him a fine wife if Pete wasn’t going to make any moves—which, the more Conrad thought about it, the more he doubted. Pete was the most hard-core bachelor around. He might chase all the women, but he’d take care not to catch one.