Page 41 of Nomad

Cann laughed out loud. “Yeah. The nerve.”

“Still. This room is bigger than the house I grew up in.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“So I suppose I could rough it for a couple of nights.”

Bud watched Cann’s smile creep all the way up and into his eyes. He was beautiful when he smiled. Well, she thought, he was beautiful all the time, but even more so when he smiled.

As promised, within five minutes there was a knock on the door. One man entered carrying a huge polished wood bowl filled with fruit. A uniformed woman set a tray of assorted cheeses and crackers on the bar while another placed an enormous bouquet of flowers at the other end of the bar.

When they left, Cann looked over at Bud, who said, “That’s more like it,” just before she ran toward the cheese tray.

“No!” Cann said.

“What?”

“The cheese. It has dairy in it.”

“Yeah? Are you prejudiced against Mexican cows or something?”

“No. I’m prejudiced against the Mexican homogenizing process. That cheese may be perfectly safe, but it’s not worth takin’ a chance. Eat the fruit and the crackers.”

She plucked an apple out of the basket. He took it out of her hand, walked to the bar sink, opened one of the bottled waters and used it to wash the apple off. She thought about saying something smart, but was enjoying being cared for too much to spoil it.

“Muchas gracias,” she said when he handed her the clean and polished apple.

He chuckled and looked at his watch. “Three hours until dinner. What are you wearing?”

“Oh. I thought I’d go in, let’s see… what I have on?”

“Yeah. Same here,” he joked.

“You want a toes up?”

“Sure. You know the airplane thing today?” He looked at her and waited. “It was really great.”

Cann nodded. It had been great. A real pleasure to see the world from a bird’s eye view. “Yeah. It was.” He was glad he’d gotten to see that before his demise, which had already been delayed and rescheduled until whenever he got out of prison. He almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all,

At precisely eight o’clock Cann and Bud arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

One of the house staff greeted them and showed them to the dining room where Señora Gutierrez was giving direction to someone from the kitchen.

She’d changed into a white gauzy belted dress with a hem that hit at mid-thigh. That was accessorized with a lot of gold jewelry that looked real. A collection of chains from delicate to thick herringbone. Big hoop earrings. And a collection of bangles that clinked together with every move of her wrist.

When she caught sight of Cann, she brightened.

“Come in. Come in.” She opened her mouth to say more, but there was a flurry of activity near the front door and some male laughter. They had all three turned toward the sound when the man of the house came hurrying in.

Bud didn’t know exactly what she’d expected, but it wasn’t anything like Señor Gutierrez. The man was in his early thirties and was giving his wife a run for the money in the beauty department. No wonder she was insecure. He was prettier than she was. At least in Bud’s opinion.

“Hola.” He went straight to Cann and shook his hand. “Welcome. I’m so glad for the opportunity to do something nice for my friend, Brant Fornight. You can call me Gael.” He turned toward Bud and hissed openly. “Madre de dios. Your eyes.” He said it reverently as he stared openly. “Such a beautiful and exotic color.” Cann wasn’t appreciating the adoration and was just about to step in when Gael turned toward him. “Such a lucky man you are.”

“Well, I’m not…”

“What’s this?” Gael said, looking down at their boots. “Are your shoes wet?”

“Well, we had to cross the river. We were running from Rangers on the other side.”

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