Read Online Never Let Go by Deborah Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Deborah Smith
Ads: Link
nodded. "I'll call the diner and see what I can do for you."
Minutes later, as they walked down Potsbog's main street toward a sign that said Eats Eats Eats, Rucker gazed at his watchless wrist. "I've got no use for fast-talkin' women," he grumbled mildly. "Especially smart ones."
Dinah eyed him with amusement. "When did you ever work in a diner?"
"Never. But my mother was the best truck-stop waitress in Texas. That ought to count for something. And I've eaten in more diners than a dog's got fleas." He eyed her back. "When did you?"
"I waited tables for a charity dinner at the country club once. When I was sixteen."
The desperate absurdity of the situation brought them together as nothing else could. As he opened a door posted Eats Eats Eats Welcomes You! No Pets! No Guns! Shoes and Shirts Must Be Worn! Rucker patted her on the rump and whispered. "Edna, good luck."
Dinah glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "Good luck, Bo."
***
The owner was a nervous man, Rucker could tell. He had a diner full of hungry people, most of them burly types who didn't waste patience on waiting for breakfast. And now he had a dedicated but bumbling waitress.
At least she was gorgeous. What man could care about food when she flashed that Miss America smile?
"Here. I'm confused. Just a second." She moaned under her breath and spread out a half-dozen order tickets on the long cutting board that fronted the grill. "This man wants his eggs over easy and still runny. No, that's over easy and well done. And this, this is an order for grits with cheese. Swiss cheese. No. American cheese. And this man wants cow toast. I understand world economics. Why can't I understand this?"
When she looked up from her frantic perusal of the tickets, Rucker saw wistful chagrin in her eyes. "What's cow toast?" she asked plaintively.
"You butter it, then broil it in the oven, instead of cookin' it in a toaster."
"Bless your heart." She lifted the hem of the coarse white apron she wore and dabbed at her perspiring face. She studied the deft way he shifted eggs, hash browns, ham, bacon, and steaks on the huge grill. "You look like you were born in a diner."
Rucker wiped a hand on his T-shirt, adjusted the white bandanna he'd wrapped around his forehead, and nodded proudly. "Almost was. Ma got off work and went straight to the hospital."
"Pretty Long Legs, can I have some more coffee, please?"
Rucker turned around and scowled at the big construction worker seated at the counter. "Her name's Din-Edna."
"Dinedna, can I have some more coffee, please?"
Rucker and she shared a droll look, and he wished suddenly that he could carry her out of this place to a private spot where they could make sense out of what was happening to them. "Hop to, Dinedna," he muttered.
She hurried to get a coffeepot, and he watched the determined, energetic way she moved. Whatever her secrets were, whatever truly motivated her, it worked well. She'd had very little sleep, she'd eaten only a package of cheese crackers for breakfast, and the morning had been decidedly traumatic. She was running on adrenaline and courage.
Katie . That's what drove her. Rucker drew a soft breath and went back to his work without concentrating on it. His wife had a baby, there was no doubt about that. But he had no way of knowing whether the baby was his or whether it was in danger.
He wanted to believe that the baby was his daughter, and that Dinah could explain why she'd left him last summer, and that she'd touched him out of love this morning. All he knew at the moment was that events during their separation had changed her, somehow hurt her, and had finally merged her strength with a compelling sense of purpose that he couldn't help but respect.
"Bo save me!" Dinah Sheridan McClure, a highly intelligent and highly competent woman who knew all the Chopin piano etudes by heart and who read philosophy for fun, was beside him again, looking anxious. "What's a naked steak?"
He loved her. God, how he
Minutes later, as they walked down Potsbog's main street toward a sign that said Eats Eats Eats, Rucker gazed at his watchless wrist. "I've got no use for fast-talkin' women," he grumbled mildly. "Especially smart ones."
Dinah eyed him with amusement. "When did you ever work in a diner?"
"Never. But my mother was the best truck-stop waitress in Texas. That ought to count for something. And I've eaten in more diners than a dog's got fleas." He eyed her back. "When did you?"
"I waited tables for a charity dinner at the country club once. When I was sixteen."
The desperate absurdity of the situation brought them together as nothing else could. As he opened a door posted Eats Eats Eats Welcomes You! No Pets! No Guns! Shoes and Shirts Must Be Worn! Rucker patted her on the rump and whispered. "Edna, good luck."
Dinah glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "Good luck, Bo."
***
The owner was a nervous man, Rucker could tell. He had a diner full of hungry people, most of them burly types who didn't waste patience on waiting for breakfast. And now he had a dedicated but bumbling waitress.
At least she was gorgeous. What man could care about food when she flashed that Miss America smile?
"Here. I'm confused. Just a second." She moaned under her breath and spread out a half-dozen order tickets on the long cutting board that fronted the grill. "This man wants his eggs over easy and still runny. No, that's over easy and well done. And this, this is an order for grits with cheese. Swiss cheese. No. American cheese. And this man wants cow toast. I understand world economics. Why can't I understand this?"
When she looked up from her frantic perusal of the tickets, Rucker saw wistful chagrin in her eyes. "What's cow toast?" she asked plaintively.
"You butter it, then broil it in the oven, instead of cookin' it in a toaster."
"Bless your heart." She lifted the hem of the coarse white apron she wore and dabbed at her perspiring face. She studied the deft way he shifted eggs, hash browns, ham, bacon, and steaks on the huge grill. "You look like you were born in a diner."
Rucker wiped a hand on his T-shirt, adjusted the white bandanna he'd wrapped around his forehead, and nodded proudly. "Almost was. Ma got off work and went straight to the hospital."
"Pretty Long Legs, can I have some more coffee, please?"
Rucker turned around and scowled at the big construction worker seated at the counter. "Her name's Din-Edna."
"Dinedna, can I have some more coffee, please?"
Rucker and she shared a droll look, and he wished suddenly that he could carry her out of this place to a private spot where they could make sense out of what was happening to them. "Hop to, Dinedna," he muttered.
She hurried to get a coffeepot, and he watched the determined, energetic way she moved. Whatever her secrets were, whatever truly motivated her, it worked well. She'd had very little sleep, she'd eaten only a package of cheese crackers for breakfast, and the morning had been decidedly traumatic. She was running on adrenaline and courage.
Katie . That's what drove her. Rucker drew a soft breath and went back to his work without concentrating on it. His wife had a baby, there was no doubt about that. But he had no way of knowing whether the baby was his or whether it was in danger.
He wanted to believe that the baby was his daughter, and that Dinah could explain why she'd left him last summer, and that she'd touched him out of love this morning. All he knew at the moment was that events during their separation had changed her, somehow hurt her, and had finally merged her strength with a compelling sense of purpose that he couldn't help but respect.
"Bo save me!" Dinah Sheridan McClure, a highly intelligent and highly competent woman who knew all the Chopin piano etudes by heart and who read philosophy for fun, was beside him again, looking anxious. "What's a naked steak?"
He loved her. God, how he
Similar Books
