Billy’s chair scraped away from the table and he pushed to his feet. “That was a good supper, Shannon,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She dropped her eyes from his and turned back to the sink to hide her blush.
“Guess I’ll head into town and see if I can rustle us up some recruits for tomorrow,” he said, reaching for his hat. He paused for a moment, fiddling with the hat brim in his hands. “It’s Friday night. Thought maybe I’d get a beer at the Dog and Bull. You’re welcome to come along if you like, Shannon. I’ll buy you a beer.”
Shannon froze at the sink, her hands dripping with soapy water.
“I’ll watch Rose,” her father volunteered in the awkward silence, “and I know how to clean up a kitchen. The two of you go out and have some fun.”
“Grampy and I can watch TV together, Momma,” Rose said, excited by this sudden turn of events. “Just one show won’t hurt.”
Shannon didn’t know which surprised her more, Billy’s invitation or her father’s offer to babysit. “All right,” she relented. “Just one little program on that little TV, and you’re off to bed. Daddy?”
“Just one,” he said. “And maybe some popcorn.”
“I love popcorn!” Rose said.
Shannon turned her attention back to the dishes, feeling Billy’s eyes on her. “Might be fun to see the old hangout again. Give me ten minutes.”
Billy pushed past the screen door and Shannon blew out her breath. Dove back into the hot sudsy water and finished the supper dishes. It felt good to do domestic things, to wipe the counters down, clean off the table. Her father and Rose were already in the living room, trying to choose a program. Rose picked a Western. Gunsmoke, from the sound of it. Shannon had just finished the dishes when she heard Billy’s truck pull up to the porch. He leaned out of the driver’s-side window when she stepped out. “Ready?”
“Almost. I need to change.”
“You look fine just the way you are.”
Shannon hesitated, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
Billy tugged his hat brim lower. “These are the same folks you used to rub shoulders with back when you had cow manure on your boots and horse slobber on your shirt. They don’t care if you aren’t dressed fancy.”
Blunt and to the point. Shannon blew out another breath and nodded. “I’ll be right down.”
She raced upstairs to the bathroom, where she washed up in furious haste, brushed out her hair, feathered more foundation over the greening bruise, glossed her lips and called it good.
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