they had to raise, but Uncle Vern always had time for me.”
Wilkes almost laughed aloud. “Some of his stories go on for days. He can remember every detail about the blizzard of ’72, but can never find his truck keys. Even in his seventies, he’s still the best cowboy around. Last winter we were in the saddle for days during a storm. Heifers were dropping calves in the snow. He found twice the number I did and brought them home to his cabin so the newborns could thaw out. If it’s below freezing, ice forms on the calf’s mouth and he can’t suck.”
She didn’t ask any questions as they turned down the road toward the museum. He guessed he was telling her more information than she wanted to know.
Wilkes expected her to ask about what he’d done in the army, but she didn’t. Which was fine. He’d been telling his stories for so long he wasn’t sure which were memories and which were lies.
An hour with Angie reminded Wilkes of what a boring man he’d become. He’d earned a degree. He’d traveled all over the world, mostly to places no sane man would want to go. But he couldn’t keep a conversation going with this clever woman who had a love for history, a subject he once majored in.
When he pulled up to the only vehicle left in the museum parking lot, he lowered his voice. “Angie, I don’t want to frighten you, but there is a car parked near the entrance with a man sitting in the driver’s seat. Not something we see around these parts. He had to pull off the main road and into weeds to park there.”
She leaned over the console and looked out his window. “I thought I saw it sitting there earlier. It looked like a Mercury Marauder.”
“Could be some guy just pulled over to check his phone messages.”
She shook her head, brushing away her curly hair that had long since tumbled out of the hair band. “No, the car was parked there before dark. I’m surprised you noticed it at night. I barely saw it.”
“There was a time I was trained to notice things out of place. Old habits die hard.” Like now, he thought. He’d never forget the smell of her hair. No hair spray or dye, just fresh as a spring breeze.
Even in the dashboard lights he could see the tension in her face. The car frightened her. Maybe everything frightened her. She’d been afraid of him when they’d met. But in the café, she’d seemed calm.
“Maybe he’s waiting for the museum parking lot to be empty so he can rob the place.” Wilkes doubted his own idea. All the items in the museum were priceless to the folks around here, but they would be a hard sell on an open market.
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound as if she believed him. “Can I ask a big favor?”
“Sure.” If she wanted him to confront the guy in the car, he’d take the .45 in his glove box with him. If the guy was simply checking his messages, he would have stopped at the historical marker a quarter mile back, not in the weeds behind a line of trees. Only, from the marker he wouldn’t have been able to see the front of the museum.
“Would you drive me home?” she whispered. “If he stays here when we leave, I’ll notify the sheriff to watch the museum.”
“And if he follows us, you think he’s looking for you, right?” Wilkes couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble someone who looked so innocent could be in. Cupcake thief? He frowned. Maybe the Mercury belonged to the ex-fiancé who never got over her honey kisses. Maybe Jones changed his mind about the marriage and moving to Texas.
“Right,” she whispered again. “He could be looking for me.”
Wilkes frowned. Damn if her voice in the darkness wasn’t turning him on. “So, I take you home and lose the guy on the way. That’s the plan.”
She nodded. “If he knew where I lived, he’d be waiting for me there.”
Wilkes pulled out of the parking lot and headed through the entrance. The stranger’s car pulled in behind him. He grinned, already knowing exactly where he was going.
Wilkes almost laughed aloud. “Some of his stories go on for days. He can remember every detail about the blizzard of ’72, but can never find his truck keys. Even in his seventies, he’s still the best cowboy around. Last winter we were in the saddle for days during a storm. Heifers were dropping calves in the snow. He found twice the number I did and brought them home to his cabin so the newborns could thaw out. If it’s below freezing, ice forms on the calf’s mouth and he can’t suck.”
She didn’t ask any questions as they turned down the road toward the museum. He guessed he was telling her more information than she wanted to know.
Wilkes expected her to ask about what he’d done in the army, but she didn’t. Which was fine. He’d been telling his stories for so long he wasn’t sure which were memories and which were lies.
An hour with Angie reminded Wilkes of what a boring man he’d become. He’d earned a degree. He’d traveled all over the world, mostly to places no sane man would want to go. But he couldn’t keep a conversation going with this clever woman who had a love for history, a subject he once majored in.
When he pulled up to the only vehicle left in the museum parking lot, he lowered his voice. “Angie, I don’t want to frighten you, but there is a car parked near the entrance with a man sitting in the driver’s seat. Not something we see around these parts. He had to pull off the main road and into weeds to park there.”
She leaned over the console and looked out his window. “I thought I saw it sitting there earlier. It looked like a Mercury Marauder.”
“Could be some guy just pulled over to check his phone messages.”
She shook her head, brushing away her curly hair that had long since tumbled out of the hair band. “No, the car was parked there before dark. I’m surprised you noticed it at night. I barely saw it.”
“There was a time I was trained to notice things out of place. Old habits die hard.” Like now, he thought. He’d never forget the smell of her hair. No hair spray or dye, just fresh as a spring breeze.
Even in the dashboard lights he could see the tension in her face. The car frightened her. Maybe everything frightened her. She’d been afraid of him when they’d met. But in the café, she’d seemed calm.
“Maybe he’s waiting for the museum parking lot to be empty so he can rob the place.” Wilkes doubted his own idea. All the items in the museum were priceless to the folks around here, but they would be a hard sell on an open market.
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound as if she believed him. “Can I ask a big favor?”
“Sure.” If she wanted him to confront the guy in the car, he’d take the .45 in his glove box with him. If the guy was simply checking his messages, he would have stopped at the historical marker a quarter mile back, not in the weeds behind a line of trees. Only, from the marker he wouldn’t have been able to see the front of the museum.
“Would you drive me home?” she whispered. “If he stays here when we leave, I’ll notify the sheriff to watch the museum.”
“And if he follows us, you think he’s looking for you, right?” Wilkes couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble someone who looked so innocent could be in. Cupcake thief? He frowned. Maybe the Mercury belonged to the ex-fiancé who never got over her honey kisses. Maybe Jones changed his mind about the marriage and moving to Texas.
“Right,” she whispered again. “He could be looking for me.”
Wilkes frowned. Damn if her voice in the darkness wasn’t turning him on. “So, I take you home and lose the guy on the way. That’s the plan.”
She nodded. “If he knew where I lived, he’d be waiting for me there.”
Wilkes pulled out of the parking lot and headed through the entrance. The stranger’s car pulled in behind him. He grinned, already knowing exactly where he was going.
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