machine, bought an orange soda for an unheard of quarter, and leaned against a wall to drink it and smoke a cigarette. He’d smoked a grand total of two cigarettes the day before. At this rate, his current pack would last him the rest of the month. It wasn’t that he was holding himself back around Victoria either. He simply hadn’t felt much of an urge to smoke since embarking on this trip.
When he’d finished the soda and smoke, he dug a clean T-shirt with a picture of a black bear from his bag and washed his face and torso in the bathroom. As he walked back out into the hot sun, feeling much improved, Victoria emerged with a handful of printouts and her laptop computer. Roan retrieved his camera bag from the back of the van before Victoria surrendered her keys to Leon.
“If you folks want to have some lunch while I have a look-see at your engine, you can walk on down to Candy’s Cafe, middle of the next block. I should have an answer for you by the time you’re done eating.”
“Okay,” Victoria said, casting one last, distressed look at the crippled van. Rather than towing it, three young men were attempting to push it into the garage.
“It’ll be all right,” Roan said softly into her ear. “I checked out the garage. It’s clean and neat and appears to have all the necessary tools.”
Victoria nodded miserably. With her laptop clutchedagainst her chest, she set out in the direction of Candy’s Cafe with Roan right behind.
They sat at a booth by the window. As Victoria typed rapidly on the laptop, she hardly touched the chef’s salad she’d ordered. Roan showed no such concerns. He devoured his hamburger and fries with gusto, and a slice of cherry pie on top of that.
“Look at this,” Victoria said more to herself than to Roan. “I’ve never seen such consistent, clear-cut signs. It’s almost like having a giant arrow pointing right to where the tornadoes will form.” Rather than sounding pleased with her findings, she sounded depressed.
“We can still get there in time,” Roan said with overt optimism. He had an overwhelming urge to cheer her up. “It’s only a little after noon. The van might have just thrown a belt or something. Leon might already have it fixed.”
Clearly Victoria didn’t buy his Little Mary Sunshine routine, so he kept quiet. She continued to fiddle with her computer, and Roan, bored and fidgety, took his camera out and checked the settings. It was a natural extension from there to snap a few shots of Victoria lost in concentration. A beam of sunshine floated in through the window, backlighting her with an unearthly halo.
He got off about three shots before she looked up.
“Stop that,” she said irritably. “You’re supposed to take pictures of tornadoes, not tornado chasers.”
“Unfortunately, there aren’t too many tornadoes in Candy’s Cafe,” he replied. Click. “Besides, I can’t resist taking pictures of you. You look beautiful.”
For a split second she flashed a smile of purely femininepleasure, then quickly suppressed it, pinching her lips together.
“You know, Vicky, it wouldn’t kill you to accept a compliment from me,” he teased. “You could even smile. I promise, I wouldn’t automatically take it as an invitation. I wouldn’t even think of it as flirting, heaven forbid.” He shot off two more frames, capturing her reaction of dismay.
“Will you cut that out?” She rolled up a sheaf of papers and thwacked him with it. “I’m glad you find me such a worthy photo subject, but you’re making me nervous. I can’t work.”
Roan would have argued further. He was pleased he’d gotten a rise out of her. And she hadn’t berated him for calling her Vicky. But they were interrupted by one of the young men from Leon’s.
“Ms. Driscoll, ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Leon says I should tell you it’s your timing chain. If you’ll sign this here estimate, we can order the parts from the dealership in Altus and get to work on it
When he’d finished the soda and smoke, he dug a clean T-shirt with a picture of a black bear from his bag and washed his face and torso in the bathroom. As he walked back out into the hot sun, feeling much improved, Victoria emerged with a handful of printouts and her laptop computer. Roan retrieved his camera bag from the back of the van before Victoria surrendered her keys to Leon.
“If you folks want to have some lunch while I have a look-see at your engine, you can walk on down to Candy’s Cafe, middle of the next block. I should have an answer for you by the time you’re done eating.”
“Okay,” Victoria said, casting one last, distressed look at the crippled van. Rather than towing it, three young men were attempting to push it into the garage.
“It’ll be all right,” Roan said softly into her ear. “I checked out the garage. It’s clean and neat and appears to have all the necessary tools.”
Victoria nodded miserably. With her laptop clutchedagainst her chest, she set out in the direction of Candy’s Cafe with Roan right behind.
They sat at a booth by the window. As Victoria typed rapidly on the laptop, she hardly touched the chef’s salad she’d ordered. Roan showed no such concerns. He devoured his hamburger and fries with gusto, and a slice of cherry pie on top of that.
“Look at this,” Victoria said more to herself than to Roan. “I’ve never seen such consistent, clear-cut signs. It’s almost like having a giant arrow pointing right to where the tornadoes will form.” Rather than sounding pleased with her findings, she sounded depressed.
“We can still get there in time,” Roan said with overt optimism. He had an overwhelming urge to cheer her up. “It’s only a little after noon. The van might have just thrown a belt or something. Leon might already have it fixed.”
Clearly Victoria didn’t buy his Little Mary Sunshine routine, so he kept quiet. She continued to fiddle with her computer, and Roan, bored and fidgety, took his camera out and checked the settings. It was a natural extension from there to snap a few shots of Victoria lost in concentration. A beam of sunshine floated in through the window, backlighting her with an unearthly halo.
He got off about three shots before she looked up.
“Stop that,” she said irritably. “You’re supposed to take pictures of tornadoes, not tornado chasers.”
“Unfortunately, there aren’t too many tornadoes in Candy’s Cafe,” he replied. Click. “Besides, I can’t resist taking pictures of you. You look beautiful.”
For a split second she flashed a smile of purely femininepleasure, then quickly suppressed it, pinching her lips together.
“You know, Vicky, it wouldn’t kill you to accept a compliment from me,” he teased. “You could even smile. I promise, I wouldn’t automatically take it as an invitation. I wouldn’t even think of it as flirting, heaven forbid.” He shot off two more frames, capturing her reaction of dismay.
“Will you cut that out?” She rolled up a sheaf of papers and thwacked him with it. “I’m glad you find me such a worthy photo subject, but you’re making me nervous. I can’t work.”
Roan would have argued further. He was pleased he’d gotten a rise out of her. And she hadn’t berated him for calling her Vicky. But they were interrupted by one of the young men from Leon’s.
“Ms. Driscoll, ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Leon says I should tell you it’s your timing chain. If you’ll sign this here estimate, we can order the parts from the dealership in Altus and get to work on it
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