A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [118]
Steven tried to stay out of sight, but, as luck would have it, Brad O’Ballivan, there with a few ranch hands and several large horse trailers, spotted him and called out. Which made Melissa turn her head toward him and then away again. Quickly.
Feeling like an idiot, Steven managed a grin he hoped looked easy and unconcerned, and walked over to where Brad was standing.
“Need some help loading these horses?” he asked.
“Sure,” Brad replied. His gaze, while not unfriendly, seemed a little more intent than usual.
Steven busied himself with work he could do without thinking, removing saddles, replacing bridles with halters, leading weary critters up hoof-scarred ramps and into trailers that smelled pleasantly of hay and horse, securing them there, so they could make the trip home in safety.
All the time, he thought about Melissa, though he didn’t dare look in her direction. Stupid, he decided, since she was the whole reason he’d followed the parade to this parking lot in the first place. But there it was.
By the time the last of the animals were loaded and the doors on the trailers shut and bolted, she’d vanished. Brad approached and said thanks, and the two men shook hands.
“Looking for Melissa?” Brad asked, after a few moments of awkward silence.
“Was it that obvious?” Steven countered, discouraged.
Brad grinned. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “It was that obvious.” Then he sobered again. “This is the part where I ask you if your intentions are honorable, as far as my sister is concerned.”
“And if they are?”
“I’ll be real pleased,” Brad answered affably. Then he leaned in slightly and commenced to using John Wayne’s voice in place of his own. “On the other hand, Pilgrim, if it turns out that you’re just looking for a good time, I’ll have to personally feed you your own ears, one at a time. And after that, I’ll hurt you.”
Steven laughed. He reckoned if he’d had a sister, he’d have felt much the same way. “Fair enough,” he said.
“Melissa caught a ride back to the other end of town, where she left her car before the parade,” Brad went on, back to being himself again, though his imitation of the Duke had been more than passable. “She’s worn out—plans on going straight home, as I understand it, and heating canned soup for supper.”
After a short hesitation, Steven nodded, said thanks, and turned to walk back to the center of town. He’d left his own rig parked beside his office, and he hurried toward it now, cutting between buildings instead of taking a more direct route, which would have led him past the courthouse. He still felt the pull of habit, even though he knew she hadn’t gone back to work.
He didn’t know what he’d say to Melissa once he caught up to her, but as he reached his truck, got inside and started up the engine, he felt a peculiar sense of urgency, as if there was no time to waste.
That, of course, was crazy. Brad had told him what Melissa meant to do—collect her car from the parking lot behind the high school and then go home. She probably was exhausted, after all the rigmarole of making sure the Fourth of July parade came off with no notable hitches, and the wiser course would almost certainly be to leave her alone.
Steven couldn’t do that, for whatever reason. Something compelled him to find her and say—what? What, exactly, was there to say?
Damned if he knew, but he had to see her, without Matt and his parents around. When he looked into her eyes, the words would come to him—or not.
He pulled out onto Main Street, now dappled with horse manure the clowns with brooms had missed, multicolored bits of confetti and the remains of the wrapped pieces of hard candy the mayor had tossed from his perch in the convertible, and was gratified to see Melissa one intersection over, at the wheel of her roadster.
She’d put the top down, since the weather was