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The boy was looking at Delia as if he’d never seen anything like her before—which, Lucas thought grimly, he undoubtedly had not.
“Get in the truck, Delia.”
Delia snorted. “I am not getting into that—”
Lucas said something ugly and hoisted her as if she were a sack of oats. She yelped as he dumped her unceremoniously on the truck’s bench seat.
“In all honesty, Lucas—”
“In all honesty, Delia,” he said coldly, “as soon as we reach a telephone, I’ll arrange for a car to take you to the airport.”
“We’re going back to the city?”
“You’re going,” he said. “Just you.”
Delia opened her mouth. So did the kid who’d climbed behind the wheel. Lucas glared at them both as he got into the truck and slammed the door.
“Just drive,” he told the boy.
Delia’s eyes burned with anger but she didn’t argue. The kid was just as smart. He gulped, muttered, “Yessir,” and hit the gas.
Two hours later, Lucas was feeling a little better.
He’d finally arrived at El Rancho Grande—and yes, the name was definitely a poor choice but he was stuck here until the rancher he’d come all this distance to see showed up. They’d had an appointment but evidently appointments were just another source of amusement in this part of Texas.
At least Delia was gone. That was something to celebrate.
He’d tried to phone for a limo or a taxi and both the boy and an old man who’d introduced himself as the ranch foreman had looked at him as if he were crazy.
“We ain’t got nothin’ like that here,” the foreman said.
Delia had batted her lashes. “I guess you’ll just have to keep me,” she’d said, though her sweet tone had not matched the sly smile on her lips.
He’d sooner have kept the rattler they’d seen on the road, especially when the rental company said they couldn’t get a replacement vehicle to him until the next morning.
Bad enough he’d be stuck here overnight. He sure as hell wasn’t going to spend it fending off Delia.
So he’d offered the kid with the truck a sum that had made the kid’s eyes bulge to retrieve her luggage from the car, then drive her to the airport. Then he’d closed his ears to what Delia wished him and watched the pickup bounce away.
The foreman had watched, too.
“Should be an interestin’ trip for the lady,” he’d said mildly.
“Should be interesting for both of them,” Lucas had replied, and the old man had grinned.
Then Lucas had asked the million-dollar question. Where was Aloysius McDonough? He might as well have asked about Godzilla, considering the old man’s wide-eyed reaction.
“You come here to see Mr. McDonough?”
No, Lucas had thought, I came for the scenery. Instead he’d smiled politely, or as politely as possible, all things considered.
“Si. He is expecting me.”
“Do tell,” the foreman had answered, spitting a thin brown stream of tobacco juice into the dry dirt. “Well, only thing I can suggest is that you hang around until this evenin’.”
“McDonough will be back by then?”
The foreman shrugged. “Just wait until evenin’, is what I’m sayin’. We got a guest room you can have, if you ain’t particular.”
