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The air smelled of lemon polish and the wood floors and tables gleamed in the lamplight. The TV was on now, but muted so that members could sit and brood behind newspapers or chat without having to shout to be heard. The soft clinking of crystal against gleaming wood tables underlined the hushed conversations surrounding them.
A woman’s laugh pealed out just then, shattering the quiet and Nathan grinned as he noted that Beau Hacket actually cringed at the sound. At nearly sixty, Beau was short, thick around the middle and with a lot more gray in what was left of his dark red hair. He had a big laugh and a narrow mind—he believed women belonged in the kitchen and didn’t care who knew it.
Now, Beau fired a hard look around the room as if to silently say, Did you all hear that? That’s just wrong. Women don’t belong here.
No one said anything, but Nathan read the tension in the room and noted more gritted jaws than usual. Women were members, but they still weren’t really welcome. Everyone was gathered for the weekly TCC meeting and none of the old guard were happy about having women included.
“Sounds like Abigail’s enjoying herself,” Chance muttered into the stillness.
“Abby always enjoys herself,” Nathan mused.
Abigail Langley Price, married to Brad Price, had been the first female member of the club. And, of course, she was having a good time now, since she had women to talk to in here. But it hadn’t been easy on her, gaining acceptance at the TCC. Even with the support of Nathan, Chance and several of the other members, she’d had to fight her way in—and Nathan admired that about her.
“Does it feel weird to you,” Chance asked, “to have women in the club now?”
“Nope.” Nathan finished off his scotch and set the empty glass down on the table in front of him. “Felt weirder when they weren’t allowed in here.”
“Yeah,” his friend said. “I know what you mean.” Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. “But men like Beau over there aren’t happy about it.”
Nathan shrugged. “Men like Beau are always complaining about something. Besides, he and the others are just gonna have to get used to it.” Then he added what he’d been thinking a few minutes ago. “Times change.”
“They really do,” Chance agreed. “Like, for example, the vote we’re taking tonight.”
Relieved to be off the subject of Amanda, Nathan turned his thoughts to the upcoming vote. It had been the talk of the town for days. Once Abigail and the other women became members of the TCC they’d had some ideas of their own to put forth and tonight marked the vote for one of the biggest items.
“The child-care center?” Nathan asked and Chance nodded.
“It’s a big deal and only going to make the hard-line members more irritated than ever.”
“True,” Nathan agreed, imagining the fireworks that would soon take place over the vote. “Only makes sense if you think about it, though. A safe place for the kids while their parents are here. Probably should have done it years ago.”
“Right there with ya,” Chance told him with a shake of his head. “But I’m not sure Beau’s going to agree with that.”
“Beau doesn’t agree with anything,” Nathan said with a chuckle. As town sheriff, Nathan had to deal with Beau Hacket on a regular basis. The man had a complaint about everything and everyone, and didn’t mind taking up the sheriff’s time with them. “A more contrary man has never lived.”
“True.”
The clock over the river-stone fireplace began to chime the hour and both of them stood up.
“Guess it’s time to get the meeting started.”
“This should be good,” Chance told Nathan and followed him down the hallway to the official meeting room.
An hour later, the arguments were still being shouted out. Beau Hacket had some support for his Neanderthal opinions. Sam and Josh Gordon, the twins who owned and operated Gordon Construction, were getting to be just as hardheaded as Beau.
“Is it just me,” Nate whispered to his friend Alex Santiago, “or is Sam Gordon starting to become more and more like Beau Hacket?”
Alex shifted a look at the twin who was spouting all the reasons why children didn’t belong in the TCC.
“It’s not just you,” he answered quietly. “Even his twin looks surprised at Sam’s arguments.”
Alex hadn’t lived in Royal very long, but he’d made lots of friends in town and seemed to already have a handle on the town and its citizens. A venture capitalist and investor, Alex was wealthy and had become, in his short time in Royal, very influential. Sometimes Nate wondered why a man as rich as Alex would choose to settle down in Royal. But at the same time, he told himself with a smile, people probably wondered why Nathan Battle chose to be the town sheriff. Since he owned half of the Battlelands Ranch, Nate was rich enough to not have to work at all.
But then what the hell would he do?
Shaking his head, Nate gave a quick look around the long table at the members gathered. Not all of them were present, of course, but there were more than enough for the voting. Ryan Grant, former rodeo star, was attending his first official meeting and Nate saw the bemusement in the other man’s eyes. Dave Firestone, whose ranch ran alongside Nathan’s family spread, was lounging in a chair, watching the goings-on as if he were at a tennis match. Beau was nearly purple in the face, shouting down anyone who argued with him. Chance was sitting beside Shannon Morrison, who looked as if she wanted to stand up and tell Beau Hacket exactly what he could do with his outdated opinions.
And then there was Gil Addison, the TCC president, standing at the head of the table. His dark eyes flashed and Nate knew that his friend had about reached the limits of his patience.
Almost at once, Gil slammed his gavel onto its pedestal until he had quiet. The echoes of arguments and recriminations were hanging in the still air like battle flags when Gil said, “Enough talking. Time for a vote. All in favor of the child-care center being added to the TCC, say ‘aye.’”
All of the women, including Missy Reynolds and Vanessa Woodrow, spoke up, but Nathan, Alex, Chance and several of the others were quick to contribute their votes.
“All opposed,” Gil added, “say ‘no.’”
A few loud voices were heard.
The gavel slammed down again sharply. Gil nodded at the group and smiled. “Motion’s passed. A child-care center will be added to the Texas Cattlemen’s Club.”
Beau and a few of the other members, still bristling over the fact that women were now included in their group, were practically apoplectic. But, there was nothing they could do about it.
As Beau stormed out of the meeting, Nathan watched him go and almost felt a flicker of sympathy. He could see the other side of the situation, but you couldn’t stay locked in the past. The world moved every damn day and you moved with it or you got steamrolled. Tradition was one thing, being stuck in the mud was another.
Change happened whether you liked it or not, so the best way to handle it was to hop on board the train as opposed to stretching your body across the tracks and being run over. Which was, he told himself, a good way to think about how to deal with Amanda.
“This is great,” Abigail Price said with a wide smile for her friends and those who had supported them. “And our Julia will be the first child enrolled as soon as we’re up and running.”
“You bet she will, honey.” Brad Price gave his wife’s hand a squeeze. “Shame Beau and the rest are upset, but they’ll get over it.”
“You did,” Abigail reminded him with a smile.
True enough, Nate mused thoughtfully. Not too long ago, Brad and Abby were butting heads every chance they got. He’d done his best to keep Abby out of the TCC and now just look at them—in love, married, and with a great little girl.
While everyone around them talked, Alex suggested, “Why don’t we head over to the diner and get some coffee and pie?”
“Good idea,” Chance agreed and flicked a glance at Nathan.
Friends could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, Nathan told himself. These two were trying to maneuver him into a meeting with Amanda and it just wasn’t going to work. He’d see her. In his own time. In his own way. And damned if he was going to put on a show for the folks in Royal.
“No thanks,” he said, pushing up from the table. He didn’t even look at the other members in the room. “I’m headed back to the office to finish up some paperwork, then I’m going home.”
“Still in hiding?” Alex murmured.
Nathan bristled. “Pretty hard to hide in a town the size of Royal.”
“You should keep that in mind,” Chance told him.
Irritated, Nathan just gritted his teeth and left. No point in arguing with a jackass, he thought.
Amanda was so busy she almost didn’t have time to worry about Nathan.
Almost.
Turns out, even running the family diner, looking for a new house and arranging to have the transmission in her car replaced still left her brain enough room to plague her with thoughts of Nathan Battle.
“Bound to happen,” she reassured herself for the fortieth time that morning. Just being in Royal had brought the memories rushing back and, there were a lot of memories.
She’d known Nathan most of her life and had been nuts about him since she was thirteen. She could still remember the sharp, bright thrill of having Nathan, then an all-powerful senior, taking a lowly freshman to the senior prom.
“And, if we’d just stopped it right there, it would be all sunshine and roses,” she murmured as she refilled the coffee urn with water, then measured in fresh coffee grounds.
She pushed the button to start the brewing process, then turned to look out at the diner. Even with the changes she’d made in the last couple of weeks, being in this place was as good as being home.
She’d grown up in her parents’ diner, working as a busgirl, and then a waitress when she was old enough. The Royal Diner was an institution in town and she was determined that it stay that way. Which was why she’d come home after her father’s death to help her older sister, Pam, run the place.
As that reminder rolled through her mind, Amanda squared her shoulders and nodded briefly to herself. She hadn’t come home because of Nathan Battle. Even though a shiver swept through her at just the thought of his name, she discounted it as sense memory. Didn’t mean a thing. Her life was different now.
She was different now.
“Amanda, my love, when’re you going to marry me and run off to Jamaica?”
Startled out of her thoughts, Amanda smiled at the familiar voice and turned to look at Hank Bristow. At eighty, Hank was tall and thin and his skin was craggy from a lifetime spent in the sun. Now that his sons ran the family ranch, Hank spent most of his time in the diner, talking with his friends. His blue eyes twinkled as he held out his cup for a refill.
“Hank, you just love me for my coffee,” she told him, pouring a stream of the hot, fresh brew into his cup.
“A woman who can make good coffee?” Hank shook his head and said solemnly, “Worth her weight in gold.”
She smiled, patted his hand, then carried the carafe along the length of the counter, chatting with her customers, freshening coffee as she went. It was all so familiar. So…easy. She’d slid into life in Royal as smoothly as if she’d never left.
“Why did you order new menus?”
Okay, not completely smoothly. Amanda turned to face Pam. As usual, the shorter woman didn’t look happy with her. But then, the two of them had never been close. Not growing up. Not now. Even though Amanda had primarily come back to Royal because Pam had needed help running the diner. But, she supposed, needing help and wanting it were two different things.
Amanda walked the length of the counter again, and set the coffeepot down on the warmer before she answered.
“Because the old ones needed to be replaced,” she said. “The laminate was cracked and old and the menus themselves were outdated.” Catching the look of interest on Hank’s face, Amanda lowered her voice. “We don’t even serve half the things listed anymore, Pam.”
Her sister’s chin-length brown hair was tucked behind her ears. She wore a red T-shirt and jeans and a pair of scarlet sandals wrapped around her feet. She was tapping the toe of one sandal against the shining linoleum floor. “But our regular customers know that. They don’t need fancy new menus, Amanda.”
She sighed, but stood her ground. “They’re not fancy, Pam. They’re just not ratty.”
Pam hissed in a breath.
“Okay, sorry.” Amanda dug deep for patience and said, “We’re in this together, right? You said you needed help and I came home. The Altman sisters running the diner. Together.”
Pam thought about that for a long second before finally shrugging. “As long as you remember I didn’t ask you to come in and take over.”
“I’m not taking over, Pam. I’m trying to help.”
“By changing everything?” Pam’s voice spiked, then she seemed to realize that everyone in the place was no doubt listening because she spoke more softly when she continued. “There’s such a thing as tradition around here, you know. Or did you forget, living off in Dallas for so long?”
A small twinge of guilt nibbled at her insides. Amanda hadn’t been around much the last few years, it was true. And she should have been. She knew that, too. It had been just Amanda, Pam and their father, since her mother had died years before and the three of them had sort of drifted apart. For the rest of her life, she knew she’d regret not spending more time with her dad when she had the chance.
But she had grown up in the diner just as Pam had. Changing things wasn’t easy for her, either. A part of her hated getting rid of things that her father had put in place. But times changed whether you wanted them to or not.
“Dad told us himself that when he took over the diner from his father, he made lots of changes,” she argued, defending the new, still red—but unscarred red—counter and tables.
Pam scowled at her. “That’s not the point.”
Amanda took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee, eggs and bacon. “Then what is the point, Pam? You asked me to come home and help, remember?”
“Help, not take over.”
Okay, maybe she had been a little quick with changes. Maybe she hadn’t taken the time to include her sister in decisions being made. That was her fault and she was willing to take the blame for it. In her defense, Pam had made herself scarce since Amanda got back to town. But, if she mentioned that, it would only start a new argument, so she let it go.
“You’re right,” Amanda said and watched surprise flicker in her sister’s eyes. “I should have talked to you about the menus. About the countertops and tables and I didn’t. I just …” She paused to look around the diner before adding, “I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d missed this place. And when I got home, I just dove right in.”
“I can’t believe you missed the diner,” Pam muttered.
Amanda laughed. “I know. Me, neither. You and I spent so much time working here as kids, who knew that I’d look forward to working here again?”
Pam sighed and leaned against the counter. She shot a frown at Hank, who was still listening in. The old man rolled his eyes and looked away.
“It’s good you’re here,” Pam finally said. “And between the two of us, we should be able to both run the diner and have lives.”
“We will,” Amanda said, smiling a little at the tiny bridge suddenly springing up between the sisters.
“But it is the two of us, Amanda,” Pam told her firmly. “You don’t get to make all the decisions and then let me find out later when the new menus arrive.”
“Absolutely,” she said. “You’re right. I should have talked to you and I will from now on.”
“Good.” Pam nodded. “That’s good. Now, I’m heading out. I’ve got a line on a new supplier of organic vegetables and—”
Amanda smiled and let her mind wander while her sister rattled off information on local farmers. Her gaze slid across the familiar faces filling the diner, then drifted out to the street beyond the wide glass windows. Main Street in Royal. Sidewalks crowded with early shoppers. Cars parked haphazardly along the curb. The sheriff stepping off the sidewalk, headed for the diner.
Sheriff. Headed for the diner.
Amanda’s heart jumped in her chest. Her mouth went dry and her gaze locked on the one man in the world she couldn’t seem to forget.
Nathan knew it was past time to face Amanda.
He left the sheriff’s office with his deputy, Red Hawkins, in charge and stepped out onto Main Street. The morning was clear and promised another red-hot day. Summer in Texas was already off to a blistering start. The sun was a ball of fire looking to combust.
God, he loved it.
Walking down the sidewalk, his boots clattering out a sharp rhythm, Nathan nodded at those he passed and paused to hold a door for Macy Harris as she struggled to carry a baby and cling to her toddler’s hand.
This was his place. Where he belonged. He’d actually had to leave and spend a few years in Houston as a city cop to figure that out. But now that he was back, Nathan knew he’d never leave Royal again. He’d found his place and damned if he was going to let Amanda Altman make him uncomfortable in it.
