She no longer felt torn by her responsibilities. God willing, there would be other times, when she was stronger, when she could do the reaching out. “Thank you, Daddy. I feel better.”
“I love you. I’ll send you the two thousand first thing in the morning. Do you need anything else? Should I ask one of your AA friends to come and stay with you?”
“No, I think it might be good for me to be alone. It’ll give me some time to think.”
“If you need me I can be there in just a few hours. There has to be a municipal airport nearby.”
He sounded worried for her, but she knew he’d accept whatever decision she made. He’d learned long before she’d started drinking that she had to make her own choices, live with her own mistakes. She’d never been a model child.
Every time he’d forced her to do anything it had been a disaster. She’d fought him with every ounce of her will. Until the last binge. Then she’d gone crawling to him for help and he’d been there. He knew things about her that would make any parent cringe with horror. But no matter what other mistakes he’d made as a parent, he’d been there when it counted. She loved him for that.
“I’m really okay. What you’ve already done is more than enough. Thank you.”
“I want to do more for you, Roxy. What else can I do to help?”
“Like I told you when I called from the hospital, I just had to get out of Dallas. That’s all. Everything reminded me. I didn’t go for a drink, just a long drive. Do you understand, Dad?”
“Yes, and I’m so proud of you.”
He sounded choked up. It made her eyes flow again.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I’ll call you when the dust settles. Take care of yourself, baby.”
“Don’t worry, Daddy. I can’t get in too much trouble in this hick town.”
ROXY SCRAMBLED OUT OF BED. Her head throbbed from crying, her eyelids felt like sandpaper against her eyes. Her nightmares had been particularly vivid this time and she doubted the wisdom of staying in this one-horse town for another day. She debated with herself as she cleaned up and dressed.
She looked at the limp collar of the shirt she’d been wearing since Wednesday night when she’d gotten in her car for the drive. Hard to believe it was Friday morning, almost the weekend. Not that it mattered when she had a couple more weeks before school started.
The shirt smelled a bit rank. I really need clothes. Roxy raked her fingers through the damp tangle of her shoulder-length hair. I need a hairbrush. Then she bent to examine her freckles in the harsh light of the bathroom. And I definitely need some makeup.
There had to be some store equivalent to a Wal-Mart, even in a town this size.
Her stomach rumbled. She patted it. Okay, breakfast first, the bank, and then shopping. She grabbed the twenties she’d accepted from Luke. She looked at them curiously. What was it about him? She’d met all kinds of men; rich successful men and long-haired rebels oozing sensuality. Still, it was the uptight Farmer John who made her want to give herself up to his keeping.
I wonder if he makes love with the same attention to detail as he exercises in his job? A little quiver went through her at the thought.
Roxy pulled a lock of hair up to her cheek. I hope he didn’t get the impression that my offer for him to come into my motel room was payback for his assistance. I feel humiliated enough as it is. She rubbed the curl against her face. It doesn’t matter. We won’t see each other again. With a sigh, she pushed her hair back off of her face.
Shoving the twenties back into her pocket, she picked up the key to the room. The large ring had a plastic tag in the shape of a cactus with the number fourteen in bright orange. It reminded her of the creative hall passes at the high school.
One of her students had given her a Porsche hall pass he’d made in shop. He’d even painted the eight-inch wooden car the brightest yellow he could find. All the kids admired her car, but at a respectful distance. The tough kids she mentored took care of their own, and that included her. She smiled at the thought of her students. She missed them. They gave her life meaning.
From Luke’s car tour of the main street, she remembered, roughly, the location of The Golden Pan. Looking in the windows of the shops along the way she thought the Western Round-Up would do for jeans, shorts and shirts. The drugstore across the street would probably carry toiletries.
It was already getting hot so she entered the air-conditioned lobby with a sigh of relief. Various animal trophies littered the walls. A sign propped up beside the register advertised an opening for a waitress. Roxy noted it absently as she sought out a table. Several cups of coffee and a stack of pancakes quickly followed.
Sometime during her meal she decided being alone would allow her too much time to think, although going home right now wasn’t the best option. She felt cowardly, her flight from Dallas proof she wasn’t strong enough to face her old drinking crowd. Maybe I’m fooling myself. Maybe I can’t fight this fight. If bad times come around I’ll just fold.
But a bad time had come around and she’d reached for her keys rather than a drink.
It was progress.
Pitiful. But progress.
Idly she watched the pregnant waitress trying to serve all the tables around her. Roxy needed something to pass the time until she was ready to go home, something with long, exhausting hours. Right there, having made yet another impulsive decision she would probably regret, Roxy got the waitress’s attention.
ROXY BALANCED the heavy tray full of home-style dinners. As she prepared to put the meat loaf special in front of a customer, the rancher gestured toward the catsup bottle.
“I’d like some catsup, please. The bottle on the table’s almost empty.”
“Sure. Be with you in just a moment.” Roxy finished handing out plates, asked if the customers needed anything else and then moved to check on her next table.
Roxy had been hired on the spot and had an apron strapped on her faster than you could say “soup of the day.” Lisa, the pregnant waitress, had practically kissed her when she’d asked about the opening for a job, even though she made it clear she wouldn’t be staying long. Lisa had been even more excited when she’d found out Roxy had experience. It was no big deal. In the years she’d been openly drinking, she’d avoided her dad and thrown his money back in his face. She’d survived by becoming proficient at all kinds of jobs.
A customer with two children was trying to get her attention. “Yes, may I help you?” Roxy asked as she approached the table.
While one child drew on a napkin, the other was yelling. “I need two Dr. Peppers, and a Diet Coke,” said the harried mother, “and another pen if you can spare it.”
Roxy handed the woman her extra pen. I’m glad I teach high school.
She went on to the next table to jot down more drink orders. Suddenly Roxy found herself nodding absently at a customer, having no idea what he’d just ordered. Sheriff Luke Hermann had just walked into the diner with a perfect, petite blonde. He and the blonde settled in a booth beside the lady with the kids.
Roxy gritted her teeth and plastered on a smile. She pretended to finish the order and then she sauntered up to the table where Luke was seated.
Luke dwarfed the little gal. She was slight enough to look childlike beside him. Her hair was true blond without a hint of red or curl.
There was no way that little Barbie doll had a temper. I’ll bet she doesn’t know how to stand up to the man. She probably just said “Yes, Luke” and