odd twinge when she said that. Then he brushed off the feeling and gave her a smile. “A man doesn’t get much happier than I am right now.”
He wasn’t lying. Nothing thrilled him more than the prospect of being at the top of his game. In three months, the championship would be his and he’d have everything he’d ever dreamed of.
Luke felt a drop or two of rain. He looked at the sky and realized the storm was moving in faster than he’d thought.
“Where are you heading?” he asked Mrs. Kaufman.
“Rosie’s. Meeting a friend for lunch. It was a nice day, so I walked from the square. I should know better than that by now, shouldn’t I? Nice days around here can turn to rainstorms before you know it.”
“If you walk back, you’re liable to get drenched,” Luke said. “Let me drive you.”
Knowing Mrs. Kaufman, she’d tell him she could most certainly walk a few blocks by herself, rain or no rain. Instead, she said she’d appreciate the ride, and he helped her into his truck. Her stroke had clearly forced some realities on her she’d never had to face before.
As he drove the two blocks to the town square, the storm kicked up, and by the time Luke pulled into a parking space in front of Rosie’s, his windshield wipers were on high. He waited for a small break in the downpour before helping Mrs. Kaufman into the café.
The place hadn’t changed much. It had the same black and white tiled floor, the same red vinyl booths. Photos in cheap frames lined most of the walls, showing various Texas politicians, minor celebrities, and other VIPs who’d dropped in over the years to try Rosie’s barbecue and chicken-fried steak. Families with squirming kids were scattered at tables, their cameras and shopping bags from Lola’s Pet Emporium screaming tourist loud and clear. A couple of men sat at the Formica-topped counter, sipping coffee and reading the paper. One waitress chatted with another at the end of the counter, both of them wearing tank tops, jeans, and pink bib aprons that said Rosie’s Café: Pets Welcome, People Tolerated.
Then one of the waitresses turned and saw Luke. She froze for a moment, her eyes growing big. She turned to the other waitress, and he could read her lips from across the room.
Look! That’s Luke Dawson!
It took him a few seconds to recognize her. First name Bobbie, last name…he couldn’t remember. She’d been a year ahead of him at Rainbow Valley High, one of those girls who thought about sex first and her reputation second, who would have gotten horizontal with him in a heartbeat if only he’d said the word. He found it a little pitiful that she was still there eleven years later, waiting tables for lousy tips.
Get out of this town, he wanted to shout. There’s a whole world out there! Go now, while you still can!
But he knew his advice would be lost on her. She already had that bright, gossipy glint in her eyes, and five minutes after he left, she was going to be telling everyone she knew that he was back to stir up trouble all over again.
It was definitely time to go.
Luke said good-bye to Mrs. Kaufman and turned to leave, only to have something familiar catch his eye. He turned back, focusing on a woman sitting in a booth along the back wall, her head bowed as she read the menu. Just the sight of her made every nerve in his body tighten, and for a moment he could barely breathe. Memories collided with each other so fast and so wildly it felt as if a dozen DVDs were playing inside his head all at once.
No. It couldn’t be. Shannon North?
He told himself it had to be somebody else, that his eyes had to be playing tricks on him. But even though eleven years had passed and adolescent memories were untrustworthy things, still there was no doubt about it.
It was Shannon.
She wore jeans and a T-shirt, and she’d pulled her dark hair into a ponytail at the crown of her head, just as she had all those years ago when they’d worked together at the shelter. But the tall, gangly girl he remembered was gone. As pretty as she’d been back then, it had merely hinted at the beauty she was waiting to grow into.
And boy, had she ever grown into it.
Until he walked into this café, his memory of her had been blurry around