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On the heels of its musical clatter came Lath’s drawling voice, in midsentence, “—is thirsty business. A six-pack ought to hold me till I get home.” Rollie mumbled something in response, but Lath Anderson made no attempt to lower his voice or hide the sharp edge to it. “What do you mean, we don’t have credit here? Since when?”
Cat slipped the packages in the shopping basket and glanced toward the front of the store, catching a glimpse of the two brothers but unable to hear Rollie’s murmured reply. The body language of his turned-aside head and hunched shoulders hinted of embarrassment. A second later, Emmett Fedderson plodded into view, looking wary and nervous.
Lath spotted him at almost the same time. “Emmett, you’re just the man I wanted to see,” he declared and draped an arm around the old man’s shoulder in pseudo-friendliness. “Rollie just told me some news that really hurt me. He said you cut off Ma’s credit after Pa died. I gotta tell you, I don’t take kindly to that. No, sir, I don’t take kindly to that at all.”
“The bill got too big.” Emmett attempted to ease away from the younger and bigger man, but Lath tightened his grip, his fingers applying pressure to keep him close. “I didn’t like doing it, but it got to be more than I could carry, business being what it is and all.”
Cat turned back to the strawberries, selected a quart and looked for another, still listening to the run of conversation, uneasy without being sure why.
“Business is something I understand, Emmett,” Lath told him. “A man running a business has got a lot of hidden costs and worries that most people don’t even think about, more things than just an unpaid bill or two. Things like shoplifting and vandalism, fires and robberies—why, I guess you’d even have to worry about a runaway vehicle crashing into the front of your store. Yup, a fella’s got to think about all those possibilities, don’t he?”
“I guess,” Emmett agreed uncertainly.
“Well, I should hope to shout you do. And while you’re thinking about all those things that could go wrong, there’s something else you should think about, too, Emmett.”
“What’s that?” Stress threaded his voice, giving it a small waver.
“I’d like you to consider opening Ma’s credit again, seeing how both Rollie and me are back to look after her.”
“But the bill—”
“Now, Em
mett, you just think about it for a few days,” Lath broke in. “You’re a smart man. I know you’ll do the right thing.”
There was a slight pause. “I see you got a customer at the pumps, so I won’t keep you from your business. Enjoyed the talk, Emmett. I surely did.”
In the silence that followed came the scuffle of heavy, plodding feet, then the jangle of bells. The threat—if that’s what she had heard—turned Cat vaguely angry. Yet a dozen other constructions could be placed on his words, all of them innocent. She picked up the second quart of strawberries without checking closely for bruised fruit.
Impelled by a sudden, inexplicable need to be out of this place, Cat moved away from the strawberries, striking out for the cash register. Too late, she realized the narrow aisle led her directly past the store’s refrigerated liquor section. Halfway to it, she paused just as Lath Anderson stepped into view, his attention momentarily on the selection of beer brands. She had two choices: continue on or turn around. To Cat, that wasn’t any choice at all; she continued on, her head up and her gaze coolly averted, determined to make no eye contact with either brother.
She knew the moment Lath Anderson noticed her. The rake of his glance was almost a physical thing, touching her even as she heard the low whistle of his indrawn breath.
“Aren’t you a looker.” He shifted, moving into her path, leaving only a narrow gap between himself and the refrigerated case. “Damn, Rollie, why the hell didn’t you tell me Blue Moon had beauties like this living here? I would have come back sooner.”
“Excuse me, please.” Changing course, Cat made to go around him, but his arm shot out, barring her way. Halting, she at last looked at him. His cocky grin had a reckless charm to it that might have been captivating if it hadn’t been for the wolfish gleam in his pale brown eyes. She returned it with a wintry directness. “Would you let me by?”
“The sight of you seems to have knocked my manners clear out of me.” His grin widened. “I guess you’ll just have to give me a minute to recover my wits.”
“I don’t think so,” Cat murmured dryly and made a half turn away before his hand caught her arm.
“Don’t go running off without telling me your name, honey.”
She looked down at the hand on her arm, then up at his face. Rollie stood uneasily behind him. “Lath, for God’s sake, that’s Calder’s daughter,” he muttered in near warning.
Lath’s eyes widened in mute surprise, then centered on her with new and wicked interest. “Cathleen Calder,” he murmured, remembering. “You always were a gorgeous little kid. Mom wrote that you got a kid of your own now, but it seems to be a kinda mystery who the father is. Turned a little wild, did you?”
Cat answered him with silence and a long, cool look. Briefly she toyed with the thought of attempting to twist free of his restraining hand. It was something she once would have done without hesitation. Wiser now, Cat recognized it was the sort of reaction a man like Lath Anderson would welcome. Still, some instinctive tensing of muscles must have given away that initial thought, and his fingers tightened their grip in response to it.
“She’s giving me the silent treatment, Rollie.” He directed the words over his shoulder, his pale brown eyes glittering with some new light. “I don’t know why it surprises me. You Calders never did have much to say to an Anderson—unless it was something against us. You never took the time to get to know us. We’re really right friendly folk.”
“In that case, you should be all too happy to let me by,” she countered smoothly.
He clicked his tongue in mock reproof as he moved closer, his other hand reaching out to slide up her arm in a stroking caress. “And I was just thinking we should get better acquainted.”
It took every ounce of will to keep from flinching away from his touch. She channeled the revulsion she felt into her eyes. “Do you miss prison that much, Mr. Anderson?”
Shock flickered in his eyes. “What?”
