Page 87 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

“What?” Jared asked, trying to read the card over her shoulder.

“Twelve o’clock,” she said. “Twenty-minute stop for lunch. And if we’re not even at the border, then we can’t use the rest stop I’d planned. Well, that obviously needs to be revised.”

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked.

“Kidding about what?”

“Kidding about being behind schedule and designated rest stops.”

“Organization is the key to any large undertaking.” She primly crossed her ankles.

“No, flexibility is the key,” Jared disagreed.

“I’m flexible,” she protested.

“No, you’re a control freak.” He tapped the stacked index cards in her lap.

“I am not,” she said. “I just like order.”

“Life isn’t a lesson plan, Teach,” he said. “You have to learn to relax.”

“I am relaxed,” she argued.

“We’ll make it to Arizona in plenty of time,” Jared promised.

“I know we will because I have a plan B, a plan C and if necessary, a plan D.” She wagged the cards at him.

Jared raised an eyebrow and glanced at her, but said nothing.

An awkward silence settled between them, leaving Cat to wonder if he’d even grasped how serious she was. She let her gaze drift to his hands where they held the steering wheel. She could see the prominent blue veins on the backs of his hands that flowed in between his square knuckles. His fists were tanned and weathered from long hours of hard work. His fingers held the steering wheel loosely, but with total control.

She imagined that was how the mysterious Jared McLean lived his life. In total control, but always on the fringe. Never in the center of the turmoil. She’d noticed during the past twenty-four hours that Jared was not a talker. He was a watcher. He discussed neutral topics, but any questions directed at his personal life were sidestepped, deflected or ignored. Boy, did his aloofness bug her. Every conversation was a one-way street to nowhere.

A wet lick across her palm jarred her from her thoughts, and she glanced at the wriggling puppy in her lap. Lucy was full of energy from her long nap, and Cat dutifully rolled down the window to let Lucy stick her head out, while keeping a firm grip on her collar even though her halter was clipped into the seat belt buckle.

“I think somebody has to make a pit stop,” she called to Jared over the noise of the open window.

Jared glanced at the poofy tail gleefully pounding his shoulder and back at Cat. “There’s a rest stop coming up in a few miles. We can probably run her around there.”

Cat nodded, and turned her attention back to Lucy. The puppy’s ears were flapping in the breeze, her mouth was open and her tongue was hanging out as if she were laughing. What a knucklehead, she thought, feeling a rush of tenderness for her baby.

The rest stop was crowded with campers and station wagons. Noisy children chased each other in the summer heat while their parents reclined in the shade.

Clipping Lucy’s leash to her halter, Cat climbed down from the van. Jared grabbed the cooler Julia had packed for them and led the way to a large patch of shade beneath a nearby tree.

The late afternoon air was sticky with humidity, and the grass they sat upon clung to their skin. Lucy lapped greedily at the water Cat put in her bowl.

“Sit, Lucy,” Cat ordered as she pulled a bag of dog treats out of the cooler. “Let’s practice your new trick.”

Cat knelt in front of Lucy and raised her right hand.

“High five, Lucy,” she said. “High five.”

Lucy patted her paw against Cat’s hand.

“Good girl,” Cat said and rubbed her ears. “Good girl.”

Lucy scarfed her treat and flopped onto the cool grass with her chew toy. Cat glanced up and saw Jared watching her.

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