Cinderella in Overalls - By Carol Grace Page 0,36

her layered skirts.

Josh knew she’d been angry when she got out of his car and coolly wished him a safe trip back to town, but he didn’t expect it to last, and he didn’t expect to be hurt by her cool, distant air as they put their signatures to the loan agreement and the transfer of sale. He was sure now she had no interest in him except for the loan. Since that was what he wanted, he didn’t know why it bothered him, but it did. He tried to take her aside to talk to her, but the women were always there, separating him from her as if she’d arranged it that way. They thanked him and shook his hand, all of them, except Catherine.

Before he had a chance to speak to her they were in the parking lot, piling into the long bed of the truck with their empty burlap sacks, Jacinda and Doña Blanca next to Catherine in the cab. He told her to drive carefully. He wanted to warn her about taking the curves too fast, but he remembered her telling him not to treat her like a child, and he bit his tongue.

He stood in the lot and watched them drive away, the women squealing with delight. In the rearview mirror he caught her eye, and just for a split second she flashed a triumphant smile that said it all. They had their truck and nothing could stop them now.

He thought of her driving on those mountain roads in the dusk and he broke out in a cold sweat. It was one thing to try out the truck in the parting lot, but the thought of her on the rough two-lane road scared the hell out of him.

The next three days were more hell. He had no way of knowing if they’d arrived home or if they’d make it back to town. On Monday morning at dawn he was standing on a rough cobblestone street keeping company with stray dogs and city police in green uniforms who were clearing the road for the trucks arriving from the valleys below.

Finally they came, swaying from side to side like all the other trucks, laden with crates. He felt a knot of tension dissolve in his chest. Of course they weren’t like all the other peasants. They were in their own truck with their own driver. Leaning over the edge of the wooden slats that held the produce in place, they called to him.

“Señor Bentley. Look, look at us,” they yelled in Spanish.

A smile spread cross his face. He waved to them and they waved back. He watched them unload. They patted the sides of the truck proudly with the palms of their hands when they passed. He picked up a sack of lettuce and fell into step beside Catherine.

“Any problems?” he asked in a carefully casual voice.

“No.” She quickened her pace, but if she thought she’d lose him, she was wrong. “Your truck is in perfect shape, so you can stop worrying.’’

“I’m not worried about the truck. I’m worried about you.” The words came out in spite of himself.

She slanted him a cool glance. “Well, you can stop worrying about me. I’m an excellent driver.”

“I’m sure you are.” He lowered the sack of lettuce behind the stall. She set her sack next to his and put her hands on her hips. Jacinda stepped between Catherine and Josh and began unpacking her peppers as if she was unaware of any tension in the air.

“Señor Bentley,” she said with a wide smile, “my son is getting married on the last day of the month. Blanca has asked me to invite you to the wedding, since it is her daughter who is marrying my son.”

Josh looked puzzled. He caught a few words, but missed most of it. Jacinda tugged at Catherine’s sleeve. “Tell him what I said.”

Catherine repeated the message, then added her own words. “Don’t feel obligated to come. I told her you’re a very busy person.”

Josh looked over her head at Jacinda. “I would like to come,” he said slowly in Spanish. “Very much.”

Jacinda nudged Catherine in the ribs, then danced away to tell the others. Without Jacinda as a buffer they stood looking at each other in awkward silence. Finally Catherine spoke. “The women are so excited about the wedding. They have a lot of sewing and baking to do. On the other hand, the tomatoes are ripe.”

“Can I help?” he offered.

“Pick tomatoes? I doubt it.”

“When they