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“I’m hungry.” The little girl’s whisper, muffled against his shirt, was nearly inaudible.
Dana glanced toward the front windows. The gray SUV parked outside had no luggage on top, no trailer behind. With a wife probably inside and all the paraphernalia of traveling with a child, there couldn’t be enough space for the household items they’d be needing.
“You do know that Martha’s house is furnished but has no linens, right? No housewares? I check on the place for her every few weeks. It’s clean, but bare.”
“We’ll manage.” His voice was tinged with exhaustion, and he gave her a faint smile. “I don’t expect much. I agreed to work on the place as part of my rent.”
“If you need anything, you could try Miller’s on the far side of town. It’s a small store, but they carry most of the basics. Perhaps your wife—”
“It’s Wednesday.” Francie’s voice floated down the hall.
“Wednesday?” Zach lifted a brow.
“Sorry.” Dana gave a self-deprecating shrug. “This is still a very small town. Miller’s closes at noon on Wednesdays because Marge has her hair done, and Jim always plays poker with the old cowboys who hang out at Sonny’s bar.”
A flicker of amusement glinted in Zach’s eyes, but then the child fidgeted, kicked her little pink tennis shoes against his hip. White lines of tension—or pain—deepened at the corners of his mouth as he shifted her weight.
“Hungry!” she repeated.
Dana waved a hand toward Fossil Hill. “There’s a couple of places to eat in town—a roadhouse or two you wouldn’t want to take her in, but the Cattleman is good. Or a new place...the Pink Petticoat.”
She’d hesitated, knowing she and her mother would soon be there, but at the faint look of alarm in Zach’s eyes, she knew there’d be little possibility he would choose that one. No surprise, there. Cindy Walters’ color scheme and froufrou decorating style scared off any guy who wasn’t dragged in by an insistent wife.
“I’ll stop at your house later on with some things so you can get by tonight,” she added.
Zach pocketed the house keys. “Thanks.”
He strode out of the clinic, nodding to Francie as he passed the front desk. The minute the door closed behind him, Francie launched out of her chair and rounded the corner of the receptionist area.
“Did you ever think you’d see Zach Forrester in this town again?” she demanded. “Of all the nerve!”
Well, there was one of the perils of hiring your best friend from childhood. Francie knew altogether too much about Dana’s past. “It’s a free country.”
“That man ripped your heart out.” Francie folded her arms across her chest. “Believe me, I remember. If he’d showed up again back then, I would have been happy to lasso that buzzard, hog-tie him and drag him behind my barrel horse into the next county.”
Dana grinned. “I would have been visiting you in jail for the next ten years.”
Francie gave her a searching look. “You aren’t going to make any dumb mistakes with him this time, are you?”
“Don’t worry. The guy is married and has a young child to boot.”
“So where’s his wife? While you were talking, I wandered outside to say hello, but there wasn’t anyone in the SUV.”
“Francie!”
“I did have to go out to check the mailbox,” she retorted. “Promise me you won’t give Zach so much as the time of day.”
“Believe me, I’ve had a lot of time to grow up. I know what matters. Honesty. Trust. Something deeper than just a handsome face.”
“Anyway, the whole town figures you’re practically engaged to Tom Baxter.” Francie winked at her. “Any good news yet?”
“Hardly, and you know it.” Tom was her neighboring rancher to the south and a lifelong friend, but this was a persistent local assumption she’d tried to tactfully dispel. Tom, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind it in the least.
“He’s a good, solid guy. Maybe he’s what you need.”
“Now you sound like my mother.”
Francie rolled her eyes. “Puh-leaze!”
