Lavender’s grandmother even paid to tune up the station wagon that would take Eleanor out of their lives again.
Every day Lavender came home expecting to find Eleanor gone and Gertrude crying.
Her heart lurched the last Friday before school was out when she pulled into the driveway to find the station wagon gone. She left her purse in the car and bolted into the house. Panic tightened her chest when she could find neither Gertrude nor Eleanor. She thundered up the stairs to Eleanor’s room.
Her things were still strewn about. Lavender allowed a small sigh of relief to escape and leaned against the door, trying to reason out where the women could be.
Downstairs, a door slammed open.
“Lavender, could you move your car from the driveway so we don’t have to carry the groceries in from the street?” Eleanor called.
Grocery shopping. That’s where they’d been. Eleanor again, trying to worm her way back into Gertrude’s good graces. Taking a deep breath, Lavender headed down the stairs, ready to lay into her mother.
But Gertrude’s smile brought her up short. Could she ask her grandmother not to enjoy her time with her daughter because of how it would hurt when Eleanor left? How much of a hypocrite would that make her? Gertrude deserved to be happy for the time she had with her daughter, didn’t she?
So she swallowed her arguments and marched out to the car to put it in the street.
****
Taylor tightened his hands on the steering wheel as he pulled into the Cascade city limits. He hadn’t been so anxious about seeing a woman again in–well, ever. He didn’t come back to women.
But he’d been counting the days before he came back to this one. He’d even come back to Cascade two days early.
He drove Angelica to the rodeo grounds, got her settled into the stall, and headed for the school.
The parking lot was almost empty. He frowned. Hadn’t she told him today was her last day of school? Where was everyone? Why hadn’t he gotten her number and given her a call?
But no, there was her Toyota, at the end of the lot. He pulled in next to it and waited.
Even in the shade of the live oak, the cab of the truck heated up in the afternoon temperatures, so he got out of the truck and sat on the hood to wait.
Just when he thought he’d have to go in after her, she walked out, paused on the steps to paw through her bag, pulled out her keys and started down the steps again.
Then she saw him and stopped. Froze. He slid off the truck and waited for her to move again, to run into his arms. When she didn’t, only approaching him slowly, well, he couldn’t say why he was so disappointed.
She stopped in front of him and shifted her bag on her shoulder. “You’re back early.”
Okay, this was not the welcome he’d hoped for. Had he done something wrong? “Is that bad?”
She smiled, but it wasn’t the smile he’d gotten the Saturday night before he left. He wanted that smile, and was thrown. He couldn’t remember how to coax it out. Why couldn’t he remember?
“I missed you.” He stepped forward, wanting to touch her, to kiss her, satisfied himself with stroking a finger down her sleeve. Only that wasn’t satisfying at all. He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips touch her skin, so soft. That he remembered. He bent in for a kiss.
Then she ducked. “I had onions on my hamburger at lunch.”
“I don’t care.” He had to taste her, wouldn’t let her back away, caught her little moan with his mouth.
Yes. She parted her lips and tilted his head, welcoming him. He ran his fingertips up and down the back of her neck, just kissing, tasting, remembering. But when he slid his hand down her spine to pull her closer, she broke away.
“I’m sweaty. I’ve been working in my room.” She lifted her gaze to his, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.”
“Let’s go somewhere.” He eased back and took her hand.
She pulled her hand