“Not likely. Don’t take it too hard, Ryan.” The kindness in her tone suddenly made him wonder about that glimmer he’d seen in her eyes.
Thinking about that glimmer suddenly made him envision Lianne standing beside the truck. He blinked and focused on Ellamae again.
“The judge provides a sounding board for a lot of folks around here,” she said. “But he knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
“And you?”
“I know everything that goes on in Flagman’s Folly. Sooner or later.”
It hadn’t escaped him that she’d left the important part of his question hanging. He understood all about folks wanting to spread gossip, good and bad, throughout their small town. Especially the bad.
Half of him wanted to say the hell with it, to walk away from this town and not look back. The other half knew he already stood on the verge of losing everything. One more wrong step, and he’d risk plunging over that edge.
* * *
O VER THE RIM of her magazine, Lianne checked out the coffee table. Napkins. One coffee mug. A carafe filled to the brim. And the full pan of brownies. Nothing to show she hadn’t just settled in for a Sunday-night chocolate fest on her own.
Nothing to show she was ready and waiting.
Since their dinner at the Whistlestop a week ago, Ryan had stayed true to his word. He’d done his job and left her to do hers. Unless Caleb had a reason to talk to them together, they rarely saw each other. If their paths did happen to cross, they managed to keep the conversation civil.
When Ryan was upstairs in his bedroom, just down the hall from hers, she even did her best not to make too much noise…if she remembered. Her forgetfulness about that had been a source of never-ending complaint with Mark, too.
Maybe this sharing a house would work out.
They hadn’t discussed his reaction to her being deaf. Or the fact that she was deaf. In fact, except for his momentary surprise at her announcement, whether or not she could hear hadn’t seemed to register on his radar at all. A unique experience for her.
She should just give thanks for his lack of response since she’d given him the news.
But most likely, judging by her latest experience with a hearing man, they needed to get the issue out in the open. The thought had led her to detour to Harley’s General Store on her way home from Kayla and Sam’s this afternoon.
Despite her good intentions to watch for Ryan, he seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Oh, hi.” The tightness of her throat told her she hadn’t managed a casual tone at all. She tried again. “Want a brownie?”
He couldn’t mask his surprise—not from someone who depended on reading expressions the way she did. Yet even with a lifetime of experience, she couldn’t quite decipher the look in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “If the coffee’s on offer, too, I’ll go grab an extra mug.”
He left the room and she rolled her eyes and told herself to get a grip. Except she already had one on the magazine she was crumpling in her fingers. Immediately, she forced her hands to relax. This was a simple snack. He wasn’t a date. She could act like a rational woman.
She fanned herself with the magazine.
Yes, he had come in and showered earlier, then gone out to the bunkhouse for dinner with the cowboys. He had done that every night this week. But this was the first time he had changed into shorts no larger than a scrap of denim and a faded blue T-shirt that clung like the plastic wrap she’d covered the pan of brownies with.
On the couch beside her, the screen of her cell phone lit up. She grabbed the phone—her lifeline, she called it. Her link to both her worlds, hearing and deaf. And, right now, it also provided a distraction she welcomed.
As she was responding to the text, Ryan came back with the mug. He took a chair across from where she sat on the couch.
“I just had a message.” She waved with the phone and reached up with her free hand to find the lamp switch. The
Thinking about that glimmer suddenly made him envision Lianne standing beside the truck. He blinked and focused on Ellamae again.
“The judge provides a sounding board for a lot of folks around here,” she said. “But he knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
“And you?”
“I know everything that goes on in Flagman’s Folly. Sooner or later.”
It hadn’t escaped him that she’d left the important part of his question hanging. He understood all about folks wanting to spread gossip, good and bad, throughout their small town. Especially the bad.
Half of him wanted to say the hell with it, to walk away from this town and not look back. The other half knew he already stood on the verge of losing everything. One more wrong step, and he’d risk plunging over that edge.
* * *
O VER THE RIM of her magazine, Lianne checked out the coffee table. Napkins. One coffee mug. A carafe filled to the brim. And the full pan of brownies. Nothing to show she hadn’t just settled in for a Sunday-night chocolate fest on her own.
Nothing to show she was ready and waiting.
Since their dinner at the Whistlestop a week ago, Ryan had stayed true to his word. He’d done his job and left her to do hers. Unless Caleb had a reason to talk to them together, they rarely saw each other. If their paths did happen to cross, they managed to keep the conversation civil.
When Ryan was upstairs in his bedroom, just down the hall from hers, she even did her best not to make too much noise…if she remembered. Her forgetfulness about that had been a source of never-ending complaint with Mark, too.
Maybe this sharing a house would work out.
They hadn’t discussed his reaction to her being deaf. Or the fact that she was deaf. In fact, except for his momentary surprise at her announcement, whether or not she could hear hadn’t seemed to register on his radar at all. A unique experience for her.
She should just give thanks for his lack of response since she’d given him the news.
But most likely, judging by her latest experience with a hearing man, they needed to get the issue out in the open. The thought had led her to detour to Harley’s General Store on her way home from Kayla and Sam’s this afternoon.
Despite her good intentions to watch for Ryan, he seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Oh, hi.” The tightness of her throat told her she hadn’t managed a casual tone at all. She tried again. “Want a brownie?”
He couldn’t mask his surprise—not from someone who depended on reading expressions the way she did. Yet even with a lifetime of experience, she couldn’t quite decipher the look in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “If the coffee’s on offer, too, I’ll go grab an extra mug.”
He left the room and she rolled her eyes and told herself to get a grip. Except she already had one on the magazine she was crumpling in her fingers. Immediately, she forced her hands to relax. This was a simple snack. He wasn’t a date. She could act like a rational woman.
She fanned herself with the magazine.
Yes, he had come in and showered earlier, then gone out to the bunkhouse for dinner with the cowboys. He had done that every night this week. But this was the first time he had changed into shorts no larger than a scrap of denim and a faded blue T-shirt that clung like the plastic wrap she’d covered the pan of brownies with.
On the couch beside her, the screen of her cell phone lit up. She grabbed the phone—her lifeline, she called it. Her link to both her worlds, hearing and deaf. And, right now, it also provided a distraction she welcomed.
As she was responding to the text, Ryan came back with the mug. He took a chair across from where she sat on the couch.
“I just had a message.” She waved with the phone and reached up with her free hand to find the lamp switch. The
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