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Practically throwing the money in the driver's face she turned to find a seat.
The driver chuckled, and proceeded down the lonely highway.
&
nbsp; The bus hit a chuckhole and the tripod knocked a passenger in the head and Savannah turned in time to see the dismay on the man's face.
"Oh I'm terribly sorry."
The man opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it, and turned away, far away.All the way back she muttered words not fit for a pig's ear. The tripod kept hanging up all the way down the aisle and she nearly hit a lady that tried to help her untangle the mess.
***
Ben Hogg took one look at the illusion of a woman stumbling toward him and pushed his hat over his eyes, nearly shutting her out. He squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. Here comes trouble! In the first place, he didn't believe what he saw. In the second, he wanted to ignore it more than anything else on this ride from hell.
Of all things to materialize out of the blue, a woman in a —
What was she wearing? Looked like parts of a wedding dress. But only parts. The bodice was there, but from the waist down, only a white nylon slip covered her, and that was stretching it since the slip was practically see-through. A ghostly image of beautifully shaped legs made him aware in places he didn't want to admit. The sleeves of the dress were ripped completely off. She was a mess, and yet as alluring as a baby kitten. Ben always had a weakness for kittens.
He could just imagine what her story was. And he didn't want to hear it, didn't need to. Pretty obvious the woman was escaping some poor unsuspecting snook at the altar. God bless him. Yes, the poor sap was probably mooning over a cold one about her now, Ben imagined. After all, even covered in grit and grime she looked good. Her light brown hair shone even though it looked tousled, and there was a streak of blonde in the front. It captured his attention for a second. How a woman could have just one streak in her hair, he didn't know. And he didn't know why this particular streak caught his attention, either.
None of his business, and he wasn't about to ask. He didn't need any hassles, especially from a woman. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. Married all of two months five years ago had taught him that marriage was not for Ben Hogg.
Not that he was the least bit interested in her story. No sir, he had a comfortable life and he aimed to keep it that way. Marriage was for suckers, and he had ceased being one.
The woman was coming straight in his direction, just like an arrow aimed at a dartboard. Ben slouched down into the seat and began to slightly snore. If anything would drive a woman away fast, it was snoring, according to the town crier of Junction.
He'd left his saddle in the seat beside him, so surely she wouldn't plop herself down beside him. If anything she should read it as an open invitation to look elsewhere for a seat. But the bus was crowded, where could she go? The woman didn't have much choice, he conceded with a heavy sigh.
She was going to sit down beside him, and there wasn't a way in the world he could stop her.
Then he heard a thump, a loud, thump.
Without looking he knew it was the saddle landing on the floor, and none to gently. He bit his tongue to keep from snapping at the woman. Didn't she realize how much a saddle like that cost? Hand tooled!
But she hadn't finished making a spectacle of herself yet. She wrestled with the tripod for several minutes before it finally lay silently against her side of the seat.
With one finger, and a frown bigger than the Pecos he stared at her.
The woman peered at him beneath the longest lashes Ben had ever seen on a human, a cow maybe, but not a human.
"Excuse me, ma'am."
The woman fluffed her slip around her, and finally put it down to a decent level then eyed him with all the innocence of a teddy bear facing a rattlesnake. But even venom couldn't stop the immediate reaction Ben had to those engaging green eyes.
"Sorry about the saddle, but all the seats were taken." She said sweetly.
He glanced at his saddle which had become her instant foot prop.
Satin shoes and leather didn't mix, Ben thought quietly to himself as he watched her fumble in that sorry excuse for a purse for who knew what. Why would a woman carry such a little thing, and put so much in it. It made no sense to him.
He couldn't stop himself, he handed her a handkerchief, without a word.
"Thank you," she smiled quickly.
"Yes, ma'am," he said and pulled his hat over his face again to pretend sleep. But he'd caught a glimpse of that smile and something in his insides sprang aware. He hadn't been this aware of a woman in years.
The woman seemed to shrug her indifference and he watched from one corner of his vision as she tried to clean her face. Not that he was interested, but she was such a puzzle, he had to pay attention to what she might do next.
