Chapter Four #2
When she worked up the courage to tell him she didn’t have the money, he couldn’t have shocked her more when he told her about the credit on her account.
A gifted credit at a tire shop was as out of the ordinary as groceries just appearing on her porch.
Summer grabbed a pitcher of iced tea and crossed to table six, refilling glasses and trying not to let the memory show on her face. She had no idea whether to be grateful or terrified.
The lunch rush had finally started thinning when the Black Heart Ranch crew came in together, filling the front section of the Stockyard with loud voices and enough presence to turn heads without even trying.
Summer spotted Willow first, then her husband Dutch behind her.
Carson took the seat at the corner and everyone filled in around him, including his brother Denver.
His pretty wife, Rhae, who worked in the therapy program, scooted close to him and she touched her husband’s arm in a way that left Summer feeling lonely as she envied how flat the woman’s stomach looked after so recently giving birth.
Part of her held her breath, and she glanced at the door two more times, waiting for Vander to trail in last. She’d never seen him with the Black Heart Ranch crew before last night. She didn’t know they hung out.
Maybe she never got to know the parts of Vander that existed beyond her bed.
They hung their coats over the backs of their chairs and settled down with menus in hand. Vander didn’t join them. That should have helped calm her tripping pulse, but it didn’t.
She moved toward the table with her server smile slapped in place, the one she wore when she needed to look friendly but didn’t want to give away anything personal.
“Hey, y’all. Drinks?”
They spit out their orders fast. Coffee, sweet tea, water with lemon for Rhae. No beer—which meant this must be a working lunch.
Summer wrote it all down. “I’ll be right back.”
She served a table for two by the door and a booth of construction workers and tried to get back into a rhythm after stumbling over thoughts of Vander mixed up with gifted tires.
She delivered nachos and two plates to the couple near the window close enough to hear bits of the Black Heart conversation.
She told herself not to listen, but froze when she caught who they were talking about.
“How are we looking for Pope?”
Her hand stilled around the rag. Every part of her tuned in like somebody had turned a dial inside her chest.
A couple entered before she could catch the answer. Summer turned to the newcomers, seating them by the far wall. Her attention kept trying to drag itself back across the room, and she had to force herself to focus on listing the lunch specials and taking their drink order.
She crossed to the drink station, passing Black Heart’s table again. Another man she didn’t know well was asking, “Rhae saw him recently, right?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact,” Rhae’s voice was loud enough for her companions to hear but didn’t carry throughout the restaurant, “good news—he doesn’t seem depressed. Bad news—he seems anxious.”
Her stomach performed a swift dive, and she stacked dirty plates in one hand and picked up two empty glasses in the other. On her way by, she didn’t mean to glance up but she met Willow’s eyes.
She was watching her.
Not in a mean-girl way—Willow was known in the small town of Willowbrook as a sweet and caring person who loved her community. When Summer first learned who she was, she asked her fellow waitress if the town was named after her, which earned a laugh that still made her feel na?ve.
Summer looked away first and carried the dishes to the tub in the back, her heart beating too fast for a simple lunch shift. Rhae’s words echoed in her head.
Pope wasn’t depressed, but he was anxious.
When she returned with their drink orders, she tried to close her ears to any more talk, but her mind was just waiting for more about the man she’d turned away.
Dutch and Carson were absorbed in conversation as she neared with the tray balanced on the flat of her hand.
“I read his file. He’s a great fit for the security team.” Dutch gave Summer a nod of thanks when she set his tea in front of him.
Carson nodded. “He’s got the experience, discipline, instincts. And he’s already invested in the ranch. Training horses and working with Willow. That’s important.”
Were they still talking about Vander? If so, she’d never heard anything about his past experience and he never talked about training horses. A flush of heat washed through her at the truth that she knew more about how he felt moving inside her than of the man himself.
She finished delivering the drinks and stood at the head of the table with her notepad in hand, prepared to jot down their orders.
She even stumbled over that task, making Rhae repeat herself because her mind was stuffed full of Vander, the security team, a file that said he was a good fit…and therapy.
With a smile, she told the group she’d be back soon and rushed to the kitchen doors to escape the chill settling over her.
For a moment, she just stood in the back, mind circling everything but what she was getting paid to do.
“Summer.”
She looked up at the cook.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.” She brushed a hand over her apron and walked out again, the kitchen doors swinging shut behind her. On a whim, she grabbed a cloth and headed to a table too close to the Black Heart’s.
She should not be listening for talk about her former lover, but she couldn’t make herself move away either.
“We were afraid to approach him about a position because we don’t want to set him back,” Carson said.
Willow’s voice cut in. “He doesn’t have a mental health problem. He has a Summer problem.”
Summer went dead still, hand frozen over the white ring on the table she could never wipe away.
Carson blinked. “Oh, like seasonal affective disorder?”
Willow and Rhae both turned in their seats and looked directly at Summer.
“No,” Willow said slowly to the group. She extended a hand in her direction. “That’s Summer.”
Every drop of blood drained from her face.