Joy marched over to where Lonny had parked his vehicle. “You can’t expect me to pay that kind of money for one tiny dent.” She gestured at the scratched and battered truck. “That’s highway robbery.” She stood her ground—easy to do because she didn’t have an extra two hundred and fifty dollars. “What about all the other dents? They don’t seem to bother you, but this one does. And why is that, I wonder?”
Anger flashed from his eyes. “That tiny dent does bother me. What bothers me more is unsafe drivers. In my view, you should have your driver’s license revoked.”
“I forgot about the stop sign,” Joy admitted. “And I’ve apologized a dozen times. I don’t mean to be difficult here, but this just seems wrong to me. You’re angry about something else entirely and we both know what that is.”
“You’re wrong. This has nothing to do with you and me. This is about my truck.”
“Who do you think you’re kidding?” she burst out. “You’re angry because I’m a woman with opinions that didn’t happen to agree with yours. You didn’t want a relationship, you wanted someone to flatter your ego and I didn’t fall into line the way other women have.” She’d never met any of those women, but she’d certainly heard about them….
His eyes narrowed. “You’re just a city girl. I’m surprised you stuck around this long. If you figure that arguing will convince me to forget what you did to my truck, you’re dead wrong.” He shook his head as if she’d insulted him.
Joy couldn’t believe he was going to pursue this.
“You owe me for the damage to my vehicle,” he insisted.
“You…you…” she sputtered at the unfairness of it all. “I’m not paying you a dime.” If he wanted to be unreasonable, then she could be, too.
“Would you rather I had my insurance company contact yours?”
“Not really.”
“Then I’d appreciate a check in the amount of two hundred and fifty dollars.”
“That’s practically blackmail!”
“Blackmail?” Lonny spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “I went to a lot of time and effort to get this estimate. I wanted to be as fair and amicable as possible and this is what I get?” He threw his arms up as if completely disgusted. “You’re lucky I was willing to share the cost with you, which I didn’t have to do.”
“You think you’re being fair?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I only want to be fair,” he said in self-righteous tones.
Joy relaxed. “Then fifty dollars should do it.”
Lonny’s eyes widened. “Fifty dollars won’t even begin to cover the damage.”
“I don’t see you rushing out for estimates on any of the other damage to your truck.” She pointed at a couple of deep gouges on the driver’s door.
“I was responsible for those,” he said. “I’ll get around to taking care of them someday.”
“Apparently someday has arrived and you’re trying to rip me off.”
They were almost nose-to-nose now and tall as he was, Joy didn’t even flinch. This man was a Neanderthal, a knuckle-dragging throwback who didn’t know the first thing about civility or common decency.
“Miss Fuller? Uncle Lonny?”
The small voice of a child drifted through the fog of Joy’s anger. To her horror, she’d been so upset, she’d forgotten all about Cricket.
“You’re yelling,” the little girl said, staring up at them. Her expression was one of uncertainty.
Joy immediately crouched down so she was level with the six-year-old. “Your Uncle Lonny and I let our emotions get the better of us,” she said and laughed as if it was all a joke.
Frowning, Cricket glanced from Joy to her uncle. “Uncle Lonny says when you aren’t teaching school you shrink heads. When I asked Mom about it, she said Uncle Lonny didn’t mean that. You don’t really shrink heads, do you?”
Lonny cleared his throat. “Ah, perhaps it’s time we left, Cricket.” He reached for the little girl’s hand but Cricket resisted.
“Of course I don’t shrink heads,” Joy said, standing upright. Her irritation continued to simmer as she met Lonny’s gaze. “Your uncle was only teasing.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Lonny muttered under his breath.
Joy sighed. “That was mature.”
“I don’t care what you think of me. All I want from you is two hundred and fifty dollars to pay for the damage you did to my truck.”
“My fifty-dollar offer stands any time you’re willing to accept it.”
His fierce glare told her the offer was unacceptable.
“If you don’t cooperate, I’ll go to your insurance company,” he warned.
If it came to that, then so be it. Surely a claims adjustor would agree with her. “You can threaten me all you want. Fifty dollars is my best offer—take it or leave it.”
“I’ll leave it.” This was said emphatically, conviction behind each syllable.
Joy handed him back the written estimate. “That’s perfectly fine by me. You can contact me when you’re prepared to be reasonable.”
“You think I’m the one who’s being unreasonable?” he asked, sounding both shocked and hurt.
She rolled her eyes. Lonny should’ve had a career as a B-movie actor, not a bull-rider or whatever he’d been. Bull something, anyway.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said calmly.
Lonny had the audacity to scowl.
This man was the most outrageous human being she’d ever had the misfortune to meet. Remembering the child’s presence, Joy bit her tongue in an effort to restrain herself from arguing further.
“You haven’t heard the last of me,” he threatened.
“Oh, say it isn’t so,” Joy murmured ever so sweetly. If she never saw the likes of Lonny Ellison again, it would be too soon.
Lonny whirled around and opened the door on the passenger side for his niece.
“Be careful not to scratch this priceless antique,” Joy called out to the little girl.
After helping Cricket inside, Lonny closed the door. “Very funny,” he said. “You won’t be nearly as amused once your insurance people hear from mine.”
Joy was no longer concerned about that. Her agent would take one look at Lonny Ellison’s beaten-up vehicle and might, if the cowpoke was lucky, offer him fifty bucks.
Whatever happened, he wasn’t getting a penny more out of her. She’d rather go to jail.
Chapter Three
“You’ve got a thing for Miss Fuller, don’t you?” Cricket asked as she sat beside Lonny in the cab of his truck. “That’s what my mommy says.”
Lonny made a noncommittal reply. If he announced his true feelings for the teacher, he’d singe his niece’s ears. Joy was right about something, though. His anger was connected to their earlier relationship, if he could even call it that. The first few dates had gone well, and he’d felt encouraged. He’d been impressed with her intelligence and adventuresome spirit. For a time, he’d even thought Joy might be the one. But it became apparent soon enough that she couldn’t take a joke. That was when her uppity, know-it-all, schoolmarm side had come out. She seemed to think his ego was the problem. Not so! He was