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“We can walk right in?” Her concern increased.
“Yup. They know me here.” He helped her inside, then released her arm. “You wait by the flowers while I go get Miss Willie.”
Cassidy heard the squeak of the door closing behind her, followed by a familiar, rumbly voice addressing Hutch. Where had she heard that distinctive intonation before? she wondered. Acustomer? Afellow tenant? Ateacher? Instead of waiting for her son’s return, she took a hesitant step forward and promptly tripped again. Strong arms closed around her—definitely not Hutch’s arms. He swept her upward and the bandanna caught on his shirt button, slipping downward a fraction of an inch. The narrow gap afforded her a tantalizing glimpse of the man who heldher.
He was impressively large, formed along the same lines as Texas—broad, bold and built to last. Taut sinew and lean, powerful muscles rippled along the ridged biceps beneath her palms as well as across the chest she was practically nuzzling. She dug her nose out of its resting place, but not before a clean, earthy scent filled her nostrils. As they’d say back home, the man had a nice stink hanging onhim.
He wasn’t as handsome as Hutch’s dad, Cassidy conceded. But then, Lonnie’s good looks only served to disguise the shallow person beneath. This man’s features were blunt and distinctive, drawn with strong, sweeping lines. No question. He was all man, while Lonnie had been a boy when they’d first met and a boy when they’d last parted.
Easing her gaze upward, she found herself staring into the most intriguing pale green eyes she’d ever seen. They gathered her up, impaling her as they dug down deep—searching for a clue to the self she kept tucked safely away. Slipping clear to her soul, came the disconcerting thought.
Not safe, awarning voice rang in herhead.
She instantly overreacted, aregrettable personality failing she’d yet to correct. She wriggled from the man’s arms with more speed than grace, flailing for a brief instant as she fought to keep her limbs from tangling again. “Oops! Don’t tell Hutch I saw!” she whispered hastily, yanking her blindfold into place.
She took another quick step backward, filled with an odd urgency to put as much distance between them as possible. She stumbled once more, still not quite secure in her footing. Instantly, his hand closed around her arm and she sensed the latent strength behind hishold.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Not safe, the warning voice shrieked—louder, in case she hadn’t heard clearly the firsttime.
“Oh, hush up,” she muttered in exasperation.
She never listened to those smart-alecky inner voices anymore. They always got it wrong, starting with the time they told her going to bed with Lonnie was a good idea and ending on the day they urged her to fight April Mae for the “honor” of keeping her selfish jerk of a husband. After that disastrous occasion, she realized these were dumb inner voices instead of the clever, instinctive ones most people got, so she’d refused to listen further. Not that they’d stopped handing out bad advice.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Rumbly Voicesaid.
Oops. “Sorry. Iwasn’t talking to you. Iwas having a small personal argument.”
“Uh-huh. You do that a lot?”
“No,” she lied cautiously. “I was just arguing with myself. Everybody does it.” She swept her arm through the air to indicate a whole horde of everybodies. The back of her hand connected with a resounding crack. Carefully, she lowered her arm and grabbed a gulp of air. When would she learn to keep her various body parts under control? “That was you, huh?”
“Yeah. That was me.”
She swallowed at the tight tone. “Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget that I’m longer than I feel.” She lowered a corner of the blindfold an inch, wincing at the bright red mark on Rumbly Voice’s cheek. “You see, Ialways wanted to be small and dainty. So in my head, my reach is only about twenty-two or -three inches instead of—” She broke off at his incredulous expression.
“Oh, please,” he insisted, “don’t stop there.”
Cassidy sighed. Why did people always look at her like she was crazy when she explained this? False body images were very common. They also caused a person to be a bit of a klutz, afact she went out of her way to demonstrate with disgusting regularity. She cleared her throat. “I forget my reach is twenty-six inches instead of twenty-three. It’s those extra three inches that hit you.”
“I see. In that case, I’ll make sure I stay clear of them.”
And stay clear of you, he might as well have said. Like she hadn’t already realized that. “Don’t worry. I’ll save you the trouble.” She yanked the blindfold back into place. “Hutch?” she called. “Where are you, sweetpea?”
“Right here, Mom. Bring her in,” Hutch added, apparently addressing ol’ Rumbly Voice. “Willie’s ready to run the form.”
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Relax, Ms. Lonigan.”
Probably afraid if she tensed up, she’d haul off and slug him again. Adistinct possibility, she wanted to warn. All her life she’d struggled to project the image of a graceful Southern belle, like her Aunt Esther. To be small, dainty and gardenia sweet. To her dismay, she’d ended up tall and klutzy, with an unfortunate tendency to speak her mind, forgetting more often than not to lace it with the prerequisite honey. No steel magnolia was she. But, oh, how she longed tobe.
“I’m relaxed,” she assured him. “But I wouldn’t object if you explained what’s going on around here.”
“Hutch has gone to a lot of trouble to set up this little surprise. I’m sure you don’t want to spoil it.”
She caught the subtle warning at the exact same instant she recalled where she’d heard those deep, earthy tones before. Lord, she hoped she was wrong. “Ty?” she murmured apprehensively.
