A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [92]
It was a little like being the only person in the world who knew that, at a certain hour, on a particular day, a colossal meteor would strike the planet.
Steven had considered warning his dad and Kim, in case they decided to change their travel plans and swing by in their RV for that visit Kim had mentioned. They’d be more than ready to spend some time with Matt, whom they missed sorely, and they had to be curious about the new place. He was still undecided on that score, because he knew Kim, the eternal optimist, might not be able to resist telling Conner. She would naturally think the twins’ long overdue reconciliation was a sure thing.
Steven knew it was anything but. In fact, it might be a replay of that long ago summer night, when Conner and Brody had lit into each other with fists flying and blood in their eyes. Some risks were worth taking, though—there was always the chance that Kim was right.
“Tell the Colorado Kid I’ll be seeing him again soon,” Brody finished. He’d already established a bond with Matt, but would he hold up his end of the bargain?
No telling.
Steven swallowed hard. “I’ll do that,” he said, and rang off.
Matt was spending the night over at Brad and Meg’s again, with Mac, because of the dance, and Zeke had gone with him.
That left Steven feeling a lot more alone than he cared to.
He dropped his cell into his shirt pocket, ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Not surprisingly, he had Melissa on his mind. He wondered if he ought to go for more sex, or keep on giving her the space he sensed she needed. In the end, he decided he’d have to play it by ear.
He got out his best pair of jeans, the only ones that were still clean as a matter of fact, and chose a shirt with snaps instead of buttons and a Western cut to the yoke. He poked around the bus until he found an iron and a fold-down ironing board, and he managed not to scorch the duds while he pressed the wrinkles out and the creases in. Then he showered and dressed and polished his good boots with spit and a wad of paper towels, since he hadn’t bought a tin of the waxy stuff he normally used to shine up his shit-kickers.
Even with all that done, it was only 5:30 p.m., and he wasn’t supposed to pick Melissa up at her place until 7:15. Too restless to stay home, without even a dog for company, he grabbed his keys, fired up the new truck and headed for town. Once there, he’d find some way to kill time, and he wanted to track down a nice bouquet for his date.
He shook his head and chuckled as he began the short drive down to the road. When had he ever been this excited about spending an evening with a woman? Hell, not since high school—if then.
And since he wasn’t all that crazy about dancing in the first place, there were some serious implications here.
She’s a prosecutor, he reminded himself. Just like Cindy. And, just like Cindy, Melissa had worked hard to carve out a career for herself. She’d loved Dan Guthrie, loved his kids, too, but she hadn’t been willing to give any ground at all to save the relationship.
Briefly depressed, Steven shook off those thoughts and moved on to new ones. Work on the house and the new barn would begin on Monday—he had the contractor’s word on it, and the guy had a solid reputation for honesty and hard work. Matt was settling in just fine at school, and Stone Creek was already proving to be a good place to call home.
In an unpredictable world like this one, that was enough.
Reaching the edge of town, Steven glanced down at the gas gauge and decided to fill up. That would use up the better part of fifteen minutes, he calculated.
He pulled in at the combination convenience store–gas station, where there were exactly two pumps, one of which dispensed diesel. He shut off the truck, got out and read the handwritten sign taped to the paper-towel dispenser.
“Machine broke.