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“I feel the same thing,” Betty confirmed.
Dick’s mother had gone home and Abby stayed for a while to keep Betty and the kids company. Then she went to her apartment to change clothes and watch the latest update on TV. The television reporter wasn’t able to relate much more than what had been available that morning.
Tate was waiting for her at the little Mexican restaurant where they met occasionally, and he raised his hand when she entered. They’d arranged this on the weekend, and Abby had decided not to change their plans. She needed the distraction.
Her relationship with Tate had changed in the past weeks. He’d changed. Confident and secure now, he often came to her with minor problems related to the business material he was reading. She was his friend as well as his teacher.
“I didn’t know if you’d cancel,” Tate said as he pulled out a chair for her. “I heard about the accident on Mount Rainier.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I should come. But I would’ve gone crazy sitting at home brooding about it,” Abby admitted.
“Any news about Logan?”
Abby released a slow, agonizing breath. “Nothing.”
“He’ll be fine,” Tate said. “If anyone could take care of himself, I’d say it was Logan. He wouldn’t have gone if he didn’t know what to expect and couldn’t protect himself.”
Abby was surprised by Tate’s insights. She wouldn’t have thought that Tate would be so generous in his comments.
“I thought you didn’t like Logan.” She broached the subject boldly. “It seemed that every time you two were around each other, fireworks went off.”
Tate lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “That’s because I didn’t like his attitude toward you.”
“How’s that?”
“You know. He acted like he owned you.”
The problem was that he held claim to her heart and it had taken Tate to show Abby how much she loved Logan. Her fingers circled the rim of the glass and she smiled into her water. “In a way he does,” she whispered. “Because I love him, and I know he loves me.”
Tate picked up the menu and studied it. “I’m beginning to realize that…” he murmured. “Look, I’ll try to talk to him, if that’ll help.”
Abby reached across the table and squeezed his hand “Thanks, Tate.”
The waitress approached them. “Are you ready to order?”
Abby glanced at the menu and nodded. “I’ll have the cheese enchiladas.”
“Make that two,” Tate said absently. “No.” He paused. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll have the pork burrito.”
Abby tried unsuccessfully to disguise her amusement.
“What’s so funny?” Tate asked.
“You. Do you remember the first few times we went out to eat? You always ordered the same thing I did. I’m pleased to see you’re not still doing it.”
“It became a habit.” He paused. “I owe you a great deal, Abby, more than I’ll ever be able to repay.”
“Nonsense.” They were friends, and their friendship had evolved from what it had been in those early days, but his gratitude sometimes made her uncomfortable.
“Maybe this will help show a little of my appreciation.” Tate pulled a small package from inside his pocket and handed it to her.
Abby was stunned, her fingers numb as she accepted the beautifully wrapped box. She raised her eyes to his. “Tate, please. This isn’t necessary.”
“Hush and open your gift,” he instructed, obviously enjoying her surprise.
When she pulled the paper away, Abby was even more astonished to see the name of a well-known and expensive jeweler embossed across the top of the case. Her heart was in her throat as she shook her head disbelievingly. “Tate,” she began. “I—”
“Open it.” An impish light glinted in his eyes.
