Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [134]
“He was playing faery godfather, and leaving it up to us to tell you. Netta’s dragging her heels, scared—I’m not sure she’ll do it. I was waiting for my first franchise sale. Sam held off seeing if the deal happened or not. We wanted something real to tell you, not just hopes. The main thing, Jago cared enough to see us. Whatever his name, he’s a hell of a man, Asha. Don’t lose him over a silly name.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
At dark the next day, a gale force gust of wind hit the side of the small diner, sending the huge plate glass windows rattling. It set Asha’s teeth on edge. These sorts of windstorms hit Kentucky in November and again in March. The only time she didn’t like the state’s changeable and moody weather. The day had been rather warm, but now a rapidly moving cold front had blown in, dropping temperatures and sending 35 mph winds to gusts of 55 and higher. The old farmers in the area called it a nor’easter. The wind reminded a person they were human, and they and their feeble shelters could be blown down by a force unseen. Mother Nature humbled one.
When the lights flickered and threatened to go out, Asha paused from thumbing through the Crownline Boats catalogue and frowned. She loathed the winds when they howled like this, always dreading when the electricity went out, due to limbs breaking off and taking down the power lines.
“Maybe I should look at a generator catalogue instead of cabin cruisers,” she grumbled to herself.
Last night had been bad enough without Jago. The winds picked up before dawn. It made her glad Colin had finished putting in new storm windows on the bungalows; that cut down on the noise some. Weather aside, she’d been restless all night: tossing and turning, endless glances to the phone, waiting for Jago Mershan to call. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. Missed him.
“The man just doesn’t understand proper groveling protocol,” she groused.
The lights flickered again. Both Colin and she glared up at them, as though it was possible to stop them from winking out by will alone. Putting down the putty knife, Colin closed the can of cement. With a worried sigh, he pushed it and the water bucket out of the pathway to the kitchen door.
“You know, Asha, talking to yourself could be a sign you’re alone too much.”
She countered, “My mum always said it was a mark of a highly intelligent child.”
“You momma could’ve lived in England in a ‘hall’ that had fifty bedrooms, with servants to wait on her hand and foot. What did she do? Lived on a rundown horse farm and ran The Windmill. I loved her, but she wasn’t your average person—you know?” Colin teased.
“What’s that line—in Lawrence of Arabia about Brits loving desolate places?”
“Yeah, well, Larry was a queer bird.” Colin stood up, wiping his hands on a rag.“Hey, I made a pun! Sorry, I’m not finishing this project tonight. I have a hot date, and I don’t want to be late.” Even in the fluctuating light, his blush was clear.
Asha smiled. “Hot date? Who’s the lucky lass?”
“Winnie.” He beamed.
She’d noticed Winnie taking an interest in Colin the past few months. He’d helped fix up her cabin into a wonderfully warm home. In turn, she began prodding him: first change, she’d taken him to Lexington to have his hair styled, eschewing Colin’s monthly trip to Jake the Barber in Leesburg. Then she’d started helping him shop for clothes.
Gone were the ten-year-old, never-wear-out, hooded sweatshirts. Asha admitted the change was fantastic. Colin was very handsome. Winnie had found a diamond in the rough and was polishing him to a shine. Derek sneered and made comments about Winnie doing it just to make him jealous, but Asha thought the young woman had simply looked at Colin and seen all that potential waiting to be tapped. The two made a cute couple.
“Oh? And where are you taking Winnie?” she asked, smiling.
He gave a short snort of laughter. “She hates Lexington, is a small town girl at heart. Leesburg still rolls up the sidewalks at 8 p.m. That leaves few options. I wanted to do something