Page 50 of Nomad

And his heart hurt for her even more. He wanted to punch her old man in the face and rearrange his nose.

“Well, here’s what you do. You make a wish.” She opened her mouth. “No. Wait. You don’t tell. Anybody. You keep it to yourself. And then you blow out the candle. Better hurry ‘cause it’s almost gone.”

She closed her eyes briefly then opened them and blew out the candle. Without warning she grabbed his face and pulled him down so she could plant a big kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Johns. You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome, sugar. But don’t be making me bigger than life.”

“I can’t make you bigger than life, Johns. You made yourself bigger than life.”

“Jesus.” He scrubbed a big hand over his face. “You need to get some breakfast and go pick out some clothes.”

“I’m havin’ cupcake for breakfast.”

“No. You are not. The cupcake isn’t to eat. It’s not safe. It was just like a… a prop.”

She went for it, but he was faster. He held it above his head while he walked backwards toward the window with her jumping for it the whole way and him laughing at her.

When he turned the window crank with one hand, she said, “You will not throw my cupcake out!”

“No?” he said, grinning.

“No!”

He threw the cupcake out.

She looked out. There it was. Her beautiful cupcake on the grass below. One of the guards holding an automatic weapon was looking up with open curiosity.

She turned on Cann. “I hate you.”

As she stomped off to go find clothes to wear, he laughed, “Is it the pregnancy hormones? I thought I was bigger than life.”

“You are. You’re the biggest asshole I know. I wanted that cupcake.”

“Darlin’. When you get across the border, Brant’ll get you all the cupcakes you can eat.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So we’re at darlin’ again?”

Cann’s smile gradually disappeared. “We should have been at darlin’ all along.”

Bud’s face fell because she understood what he was trying to say. He was sorry that she cared about him.

CHAPTER Ten

Bud was standing in the middle of her hostess’s closet trying to decide what to wear to the epic walk across the border. She pulled out a few things, but nothing seemed just right. She wanted sedate, but it was her eighteenth birthday and she didn’t want to dress like she was forty-five.

Perhaps the late October day was cool somewhere, but it was hot in Del Rio. She was lost in indecision and running out of time to decide. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the maids pass by the closet door.

Bud stepped to the entrance and said, “Can you come help me please?” The maid, who was straightening pillows, looked around as if Bud might be addressing someone else. “Yes. You. Come.” Bud made a gesture with her hand.

It took some doing to coax the young woman to sit down on the bench Bud was pointing to, but she finally relented and did so. Bud quickly acted out what she wanted, by holding outfits up and saying, “Si o no?”

The maid said no to the first three outfits, but smiled and nodded yes to the plain tan linen dress that fell just above the knee. It had a modest scoop neck, three-quarter sleeves, and looked great with the high-heeled sandals. The maid rose, opened one of the cupboards and pulled out a big brown Brahmin bag.

When Bud saw it, she nodded and giggled. It was big enough to carry everything she was taking with her and would look stylish, too.

“Gracias,” Bud said.

The maid smiled and seemed as pleased as Bud was.

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