adjusting to the altitude. That’s all.”
Chrissie
saw Brant shoot a quick glance at Arturo. Arturo trotted across the cobblestone
street, dumping his pipe ashes on the ground and then stuffing the pipe in his
shirt pocket.
Does he know Arturo? They spoke without
even saying one word by just exchanging a glance.
At
Chrissie’s side, Arturo placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Time for
dinner. I’m afraid María will have our necks if we aren’t home on time, and
maybe after, you’ll have another dip in the water.” Arturo glanced over at her
warily. “Maybe too much, too soon.”
“Thank
you again for the dance, Brant. It was lovely meeting you,” Chrissie said over
her shoulder as she left with Arturo.
She
watched him briefly. A sad, pained look burdened his face. He turned and opened
his billfold, dropping a stack of cash into the guitar case. The aging musician
shook Brant’s hand gratefully, before Brant walked away, leaving Chrissie to
wonder why he’d appeared out of nowhere and if she would ever see him again.
The romantic interlude they’d shared a few moments ago had raised more
questions than answers.
Arturo
led her to the Datsun parked on the side of the street and helped her in. “Did
you have a nice outing?”
“Oh,
yes. Thank you.” She watched the familiar village buildings go by just outside
her window. “Who is Brant Winston?”
Arturo
nervously shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “He is sort of like the
mayor of our village, if we had one. A nice, respectable man.”
“Have
I met him before?”
“Sí,
pero. I think it is a part of your missing memory.”
“Well,
they don’t make very many men as good-looking as he is.” Chrissie pulled on her
blindfold as they left the village limits.
“I
guess not, but I only have eyes for María.” He chuckled.
“Do
you think I’ll see him again?”
“Chrissie,
why are you asking me so many questions about Señor Winston? Did you find
yourself a new novio?”
“Oh,
a girl can dream, can’t she?” she dramatically sighed. Secretly, she wouldn’t
mind one bit if he was her novio. “What a hottie!” She fanned herself. She was
amazed she felt well enough to have any romantic stirrings. “I haven’t been so lucky
in the dating department. Maybe here in a small village, the pickings are
slimmer for him, and I have a better chance. Is he single?”
“You
should ask Señor Winston that question. This feels like a chat you should have
with a girlfriend or something. Not an old man.”
If her
mom were here, she’d be sharing all this girl talk with her, or even her best
friend, Marla. “You are the only one available.” She laid her head back and
sighed. “He is dreamy.” Chrissie laughed, visualizing Arturo’s discomfort with
the conversation. “Besides, I’ve promoted you to bestie status. So henceforth,
I will be sharing all my secrets.”
“Ay-yi-yi,”
he lamented. “If María heard what you just said, I would never hear the end of
it.”
“Come
on, Arturo—I only have you and María to talk to. Go with it. It might
involve lots of ice cream.” Even though Chrissie was blindfolded, she could
tell by the sound of his chuckle that he was slightly amused. “I should call my
mom tonight and tell her I’m okay. She’ll want to know all the details. I’m
sure she’s waiting by the phone.”
“At
least you have a little color in your cheeks again, mija.”
* * *
Brant
slowly drove his truck up the curvy road. He had spent a few glorious moments
with Chrissie. She looked shockingly underweight, and something was still a
little off in her health. The water should have cured her, but it hadn’t.
Why? Although, she did look leaps
and bounds better than she had when Arturo brought her home.
He needed
to look on the bright side … at least she was still alive.
Her Texan
accent had him undone from the moment she spoke. He nearly told her everything.
No, that wouldn’t be a wise
Chrissie
saw Brant shoot a quick glance at Arturo. Arturo trotted across the cobblestone
street, dumping his pipe ashes on the ground and then stuffing the pipe in his
shirt pocket.
Does he know Arturo? They spoke without
even saying one word by just exchanging a glance.
At
Chrissie’s side, Arturo placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Time for
dinner. I’m afraid María will have our necks if we aren’t home on time, and
maybe after, you’ll have another dip in the water.” Arturo glanced over at her
warily. “Maybe too much, too soon.”
“Thank
you again for the dance, Brant. It was lovely meeting you,” Chrissie said over
her shoulder as she left with Arturo.
She
watched him briefly. A sad, pained look burdened his face. He turned and opened
his billfold, dropping a stack of cash into the guitar case. The aging musician
shook Brant’s hand gratefully, before Brant walked away, leaving Chrissie to
wonder why he’d appeared out of nowhere and if she would ever see him again.
The romantic interlude they’d shared a few moments ago had raised more
questions than answers.
Arturo
led her to the Datsun parked on the side of the street and helped her in. “Did
you have a nice outing?”
“Oh,
yes. Thank you.” She watched the familiar village buildings go by just outside
her window. “Who is Brant Winston?”
Arturo
nervously shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “He is sort of like the
mayor of our village, if we had one. A nice, respectable man.”
“Have
I met him before?”
“Sí,
pero. I think it is a part of your missing memory.”
“Well,
they don’t make very many men as good-looking as he is.” Chrissie pulled on her
blindfold as they left the village limits.
“I
guess not, but I only have eyes for María.” He chuckled.
“Do
you think I’ll see him again?”
“Chrissie,
why are you asking me so many questions about Señor Winston? Did you find
yourself a new novio?”
“Oh,
a girl can dream, can’t she?” she dramatically sighed. Secretly, she wouldn’t
mind one bit if he was her novio. “What a hottie!” She fanned herself. She was
amazed she felt well enough to have any romantic stirrings. “I haven’t been so lucky
in the dating department. Maybe here in a small village, the pickings are
slimmer for him, and I have a better chance. Is he single?”
“You
should ask Señor Winston that question. This feels like a chat you should have
with a girlfriend or something. Not an old man.”
If her
mom were here, she’d be sharing all this girl talk with her, or even her best
friend, Marla. “You are the only one available.” She laid her head back and
sighed. “He is dreamy.” Chrissie laughed, visualizing Arturo’s discomfort with
the conversation. “Besides, I’ve promoted you to bestie status. So henceforth,
I will be sharing all my secrets.”
“Ay-yi-yi,”
he lamented. “If María heard what you just said, I would never hear the end of
it.”
“Come
on, Arturo—I only have you and María to talk to. Go with it. It might
involve lots of ice cream.” Even though Chrissie was blindfolded, she could
tell by the sound of his chuckle that he was slightly amused. “I should call my
mom tonight and tell her I’m okay. She’ll want to know all the details. I’m
sure she’s waiting by the phone.”
“At
least you have a little color in your cheeks again, mija.”
* * *
Brant
slowly drove his truck up the curvy road. He had spent a few glorious moments
with Chrissie. She looked shockingly underweight, and something was still a
little off in her health. The water should have cured her, but it hadn’t.
Why? Although, she did look leaps
and bounds better than she had when Arturo brought her home.
He needed
to look on the bright side … at least she was still alive.
Her Texan
accent had him undone from the moment she spoke. He nearly told her everything.
No, that wouldn’t be a wise
Similar Books
