Between Strangers. Linda Conrad

you? Do you love her?”

      “I can’t say that we’ve come that far yet. But I believe the best marriages are the ones where love grows over time. I’m starting a little late in life, but we still should have fifty years or so to learn about love.”

      “Wait a minute.” Marcy held up her hand, palm out. “You intend to ask this woman to marry you, but neither of you are in love? Have you two, uh, well, do you know for a fact that you will be compatible…in all areas?”

      “If you’re asking about in the bedroom, the answer is no, I don’t know for sure about that part of it. But we respect each other. And that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

      Oh, brother. Marcy could only shake her head. He couldn’t be for real. She knew love was a difficult dream to realize, and this guy didn’t even have the basic steps down yet.

      “I kind of hate to ask this,” she began tentatively. “But does Lorna know you intend to propose? Have you two talked about the possibility?”

      He seemed to take a moment thinking that one over. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought it would be more romantic that way. Women like that kind of romance, don’t they?”

      Marcy bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing aloud. “Some things aren’t meant to be that big a surprise, you know?”

      The darkening shadows of late afternoon made the atmosphere around them suddenly seem melancholy. Marcy wished that she knew Lance a little better. He could be heading for a huge fall, and she wanted to be his friend so she could try to keep it from being such a hard landing.

      He paid no attention to her attempt to warn him. “I found a wonderful engagement ring on my last evening in New Orleans. It’s an antique and very special. Wait until I tell you the crazy story of how I got it.”

      They rounded a bend in the road and Lance smiled. “The story will have to wait. You can’t see it through the snowfall yet, but the truck stop is right up ahead. We’ll be able to get in out of this storm in just a few minutes.”

      After the waitress found a high chair for Angie, and Marcy had unbuttoned and removed the baby’s snowsuit, she shrugged off her own coat and slipped into the booth beside her daughter. The place was packed and it had taken thirty minutes to get seated. Truckers, bus drivers, state police and families who’d been on their way to holiday parties, all of them had wound up stuck here waiting out the storm.

      “Here’s a couple of menus,” the harried waitress told her. “But we’re not serving everything as usual. The boss wants to conserve so we can make it over the next few days without running out of food.”

      “That’s okay,” Marcy said with a shrug. “I have to check with the rest of my party, but I’d imagine we’ll be having whatever you’ve got. And the baby will be fine if you can just bring her some milk.”

      “I’ll send the busboy over with a glass for her,” the woman said. “But it may take me a long time to get back here for your order. We’re swamped. Do you mind?”

      Marcy shook her head and watched the woman hurry away, disappearing into the crowds of people who were stuffed into every available table, booth and aisle. Marcy reached into her big duffel on the floor and pulled a jar of baby food, some crackers and Angie’s sippy cup up onto the table.

      “We’ll be fine, sweetheart,” she murmured to a big-eyed Angie. “It’s warm here and we’re safe. And I’ll think of some way for us to get to Wyoming, don’t you worry.”

      Marcy handed Angie a cracker and glanced up to find Lance making his way to their table after filling up his gas tank outside. Oh, Lord. He strode through the crowd like a man who had no trouble negotiating any obstacle. Every feminine eye in the place turned to admire his wide shoulders and the tight butt encased in slim work jeans.

      With his hat in his hand and his heavy leather coat slung over one shoulder, she got her first good look at their savior. Rugged. Whoo, baby. Everything about him just screamed male.

      His black hair was slicked away from his face, and he’d tied it back with some kind of rawhide string. The bronzed skin against the plaid long-sleeved shirt gave him a great outdoors appearance. A man’s man for sure.

      He caught her looking in his direction and focused those sharp ebony eyes on her. His wide nose bent at the bridge and looked as if it had probably been broken somewhere along the line. But it was his full lips that now captured her attention. The corners crooked up with an arrogant twist that made her throat go dry and the sweat bead between her breasts.

      He eased into the booth across from her. “Nobody’s been able to get a call out. The circuits are all tied up with the storm. Have you decided what you want to do from here?”

      She straightened her shoulders and gulped back the nervous energy his very presence seemed to bring out in her. “I was hoping Angie and I could catch a bus to Cheyenne. Even if we’re stuck here for a couple of days, a bus should get us from here to Wyoming before the first of January.”

      Lance shook his head. “I just talked to one of the state troopers. They’re considering keeping the roads closed in both directions for the rest of the week. How important is it that you get to Cheyenne on time?”

      Blinking her eyes in a short silent prayer, Marcy decided she would be perfectly honest with him. “Staying here for a couple of days and then buying bus tickets will take every dime I have. That job is my last hope, and it won’t be available past the first.”

      He grimaced. “Unless you’re exaggerating your circumstances, you’d better think of something else real quick. Because I’d say your chances of getting out of here in time have just gone from slim to none.”