Page 44 of Nomad

He chuckled because she was practically jumping up and down.

A fleeting thought of Molly danced across his mind. He knew she’d liked clothes, as all women do, and wondered if she would have reacted the same way if she’d been given access to outfits that cost more than an average mortgage payment. Oddly, the thought of Molly didn’t sting and send him straight to the bar for a whiskey. Instead, the thought lit on his consciousness like a butterfly. A pleasant memory that danced across the screen of his mind long enough to be appreciated and cherished, then disappeared into the recesses of memory.

There was a knock around ten o’clock. When Cann answered, two men entered smiling and nodding. One carried folded clothing and two shoe boxes. The other carried clothes on hangers. They walked straight back to the dressing area and opened the closet.

Bud, who had spent an hour and a half in a leisurely hot bath, chose that time to open the bathroom door wearing the newly acquired night shirt and no bra. “Johns, did you hear someone at the…?” She took one look at the two men about to put clothes away in the closet, shrieked a little, “Eep,” and disappeared into the bath again.

Cann took in a big breath, let it out again, and said, “Jesus.”

When they left, he knocked on the bath door. “You can come out. They’re gone.”

She opened the door. “What were they doing? Bringing you clothes? How did they find all those clothes at this time of night? It would have to be some kind of specialty store because there aren’t a lot of people your size down here. You know?”

Cann hadn’t heard a thing she’d said. He’d been too busy staring at the way her nipples prodded the silk shirt.

“Johns? Are you staring at my…?”

His eyes jerked up to hers, which stood out like neon because of the lavender color of the shirt. That was when he knew he might be in actual trouble.

He swallowed and pulled his gaze away. “They brought clothes.”

“I know. That’s what I said.” Her tone was dry and full of mock patience. “Let’s see what they brought you.”

“Well, maybe you want to put on…”

“Wow. These shirts are gorgeous, Johns. You’re going to be beautiful in this one.” The sentence he’d been forming froze in his mind when Bud speculated that he might be beautiful. “Look! They found you new biker boots. Only these are better than the ones you ruined.”

“We ruined.”

“Whatever. We’re going to look like respectable people.”

“The main thing is that wearerespectable people,” Cann said. The smile she gave Cann in return was so dazzling he turned away for fear of blushing. “You can take the bed closest to the bathroom.”

“Okay. I guess you can have the other one.”

He didn’t turn around, but she heard him snort softly.

CHAPTER Eight

“Brant.” It was a statement of fact. Texas Ranger, Forge Russell, had been told that Brant was on the line.

“Russ. Like to buy you a taco. Sit down of a sensitive nature.”

“Where? When?”

“You know the truck by the river. One?”

After a brief pause, Russell said, “I’ll be there.”

“By yourself.”

“That sensitive, huh?”

“Your ears only.”

“Alright then. I’ll manage it.”

Russ ordered four tacos and a half-sized bottle of Dos Equis.

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