Cinderella in Overalls - By Carol Grace Page 0,35

room for a man in my life.”

“What about Señor Bentley?” the older woman asked.

“What about him? Are you suggesting he accompany me on my travels? He’s our banker, that’s all,” she said so emphatically that Jacinda took a step backward. “I’m only interested in the money he’s loaning us, and he’s only interested in making sure we make our payments.”

Jacinda bobbed her head. “I know. I know. Did I not hear all about it in the bank yesterday? Payments and interest and credit and notes until my head was spinning.”

Catherine frowned. “I hope you paid attention. Because if we miss one payment, the truck goes back to the bank. We don’t really own it until we make all of our payments.”

“With the little stubs from the little book. I remember,” Jacinda assured her.

Catherine nodded. She had been paying attention. They all had. She felt a pang of guilt for treating Jacinda like a child. For talking down to her just as Josh had done to her. And for talking business when Jacinda wanted to talk weddings. But she had a splitting headache. Farm girls who stayed up late paid a price the next day, but she had no right to take out her anger toward Josh on Jacinda.

She poured two cups of tea from the kettle on the stove and motioned for her old friend to sit down. “Where will they live?” she asked.

Jacinda spooned a dollop of honey into her tea. “Since Juan Carlos works in the mines, Magdalena will continue to live at home until the baby comes. Then they will have to find a home of their own.” She sipped her tea. “We have much to do in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Catherine set her cup down with a thud.

Jacinda nodded. “Clothes to be made. Food to be cooked. You have never seen a village wedding with a piñata and a whole roasted lamb and dancing. Mr. Bentley has never seen such a wedding, either, I suppose.”

“Mr. Bentley? I don’t think Mr. Bentley is interested in weddings,” she said, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand.

Jacinda took Catherine’s cup and stared into the leaves at the bottom. “Perhaps not,” she murmured, “but I know Blanca will invite him all the same. Sometimes men surprise you.”

Catherine had to agree with that. Just when you thought men were sweet, sensitive and kind, they turned out to be devious and self-centered.

Jacinda tilted the teacup and grasped Catherine’s arm. “This is truly amazing,” she said breathlessly. “Just as we speak of marriage I see something about it in your tea leaves.”

“Really?” Catherine suppressed a smile. “What is it?”

“A village wedding. But the bride is not Magdalena. The bride is you. In a flowing white gown with a veil. You are smiling and saying, “Thank you, Jacinda.’”

“And who might the groom be?” Catherine asked innocently.

Jacinda shrugged. “I cannot see his face, but he is very rich. He showers you with silver coins.”

“Silver? How delightful,” Catherine enthused. Then deliberately she reached across the table for Jacinda’s cup and studied the leaves at the bottom. “What have we here? What I see in your future is a big white truck with you riding next to me in front with all your friends from the market looking on enviously. It will happen soon, very soon.”

Jacinda met Catherine’s eyes and said no more about Catherine’s wedding. Catherine told her that on Thursday they would surely leave town in their truck. Or rather the bank’s truck. She and the women would all go in together to pick it up. She knew Josh would have to come through. He couldn’t take twenty women home in his car. And he couldn’t invite twenty women to dinner at Restaurante Roberto.

He couldn’t distract twenty women by wearing a leather jacket, either, or showering them with attention. It would be all business. That was the way he wanted it and that was the way it would be. Sign the transfer of sale, get in the truck and come home.

But on Thursday, as they waited in the cool, high-ceilinged lobby of the bank, she didn’t feel quite so calm. She wiped her palms on her shawl and tried not to look anxious. She saw him before he saw her, but not by much. Just enough time to notice he was wearing a gray suit with pinstripes that fit his lanky body without a wrinkle. Just enough to take a deep breath, but not enough time to stop her knees from shaking under