Walter frowned at her. “Never any question about that, and you know it. Now stop beating yourself up over what happened.”
She regarded him with surprise. “Sarah told me you weren’t mad at me, but I didn’t entirely believe her.”
“Didn’t I tell you the same thing when I was here last night?”
“I thought maybe you’d have second thoughts once you’d had time to reflect about what happened.”
“Well, I didn’t, which is exactly why I’m here again today. I wanted to be sure you knew I don’t blame you.” He grinned at her. “And since I’m giving up my lunch break to come over here, how about fixing me one of those fancy salads of yours? I’m gaining too much weight living on burgers from Wharton’s and pizza from Rosalina’s.”
“Isn’t it way past time for you to find your own place and fix your own lunches?” Raylene said, though she immediately pulled lettuce, tomatoes and other ingredients from the refrigerator. “Now that you know it’s going to work out selling ads for the radio station, it’s time, Walter. The kids need a real bedroom so they can spend the night with you. Nice as it is, the inn’s no place for them for more than an hour or two.”
He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to the inn. They’ve given me a decent monthly rate, and there’s no housekeeping or upkeep.”
Raylene shook her head. “You are downright pitiful. You spent way too many years being waited on, didn’t you?”
He grinned unrepentantly. “Probably. The truth is, though, that I haven’t had ten minutes to string together to go house hunting, much less enough money put aside for a down payment,” he said. “The house in Alabama still hasn’t sold because the real estate market over there sucks. It’s a mill town and people are losing their jobs. Their homes are going into foreclosure. The market’s glutted, but I did finally get a solid lead on a buyer last week.”
“Well, then, it’s time to start looking here,” Raylene said optimistically.
“Not until the deal’s closed,” Walter insisted. “Too many things could go wrong. I can’t just rely on what I’m making at the station. The pay’s not that great. Travis is working on getting approval for a stronger signal for the station. If that comes through, then I’m going to be on the road even more driving to all the new towns our signal will reach. It’ll mean more money, though.”
“You’re just full of excuses, aren’t you?” Raylene commented. “Think about this. Being on the road more is all the more reason to find a comfortable home to come back to.” She set a bowl in front of him, then handed him a light dressing. Her expression dared him to ask for his preferred blue cheese.
Walter took the vinaigrette with a sigh. “You can be such a nag. Worse, you don’t even have to say a word.”
“You’re the one who was complaining about gaining weight,” she reminded him. “Now, about the house. Why don’t you call Rory Sue Lewis. She’s working with her mother now. Tell her what you want and let her do all the legwork. Then give her an hour and see what she’s come up with. I’ll bet she can help you figure out financing, too. At the least she can make the sale contingent on selling the house in Alabama, so you won’t have that worry hanging over you. You won’t be on the hook unless the money’s there.”
“You honestly think it will be that easy?” he asked skeptically. “Rory Sue’s new at the real estate business from what I hear. Her mama’s the expert.”
Raylene got a wicked gleam in her eye. “But Rory Sue’s an expert at figuring out what men want. I’ll put money on her finding a way to satisfy you.”
Walter paused, his fork in midair, and studied Raylene’s suddenly innocent expression. “Are you matchmaking?” he asked warily.
“What if I am? You’re a free man.”
“With no spare time,” he corrected. “Between work and the kids, I have no time. I just told you that.”
“Every man will make time for women and sex,” she countered. “It’s a law of nature.”
“And women?” he queried, tossing the ball right back into her court. “You’ve been shut away in here for the better part of a year. How’s your love life?”
Rather than taking offense, as he’d half expected, she merely laughed. “Hey, I’m willing. The men just have to find me.”
Walter regarded her soberly. Despite her laughter, he found the response unbearably sad. “That’s no way to live, Raylene, and you know it.”
She sobered at once. “Not the first time you’ve mentioned that. Just so you know, I called Dr. McDaniels this morning. She’s coming here tomorrow. I guess we’ll finally get to the bottom of my problem.”
“About time,” Walter said, relieved for her.
She regarded him wearily. “That’s what all of you think,” she said. “But no one seems to be thinking about what happens if there’s no way to fix me.”
Walter heard the genuine fear behind her lightly spoken words and reached for her hand. “Then you’ll handle that,” he said confidently. “But I believe you’re strong enough to deal with anything, Raylene. I mean that. You just may be the strongest woman I know.”
Uncomfortable with the unexpected, if heartfelt, emotion, he stood up and backed away. “Now I’ve got to get back to work before Travis finds out I’m over here instead of selling airtime. You need anything after you see the doctor tomorrow, you call me, you hear? I may be a poor substitute for a Sweet Magnolia, but I am your friend, and I’ve got a broad shoulder you can lean on.”
Raylene’s eyes filled with tears. “Sure,” she said. “Thanks.”
As Walter got in his car, he thought about what had just happened. If anyone had ever told him he could have deep feelings for a woman without wanting to get her into bed, he’d have sworn they were nuts. That was the way it was between him and Raylene, though. They were friends, the kind who backed each other up, and he’d meant what he said. If she needed him, he would be here.
Of course, knowing Raylene, it would be a cold day in hell before she ever admitted needing anyone.
Raylene wasn’t entirely shocked when she saw Helen Decatur coming up the walk after dinner on the night after Tommy’s adventure. She’d half expected the attorney to stop by and warn her about possible charges that could be filed against her if she wasn’t more careful in the future.
When she opened the door, though, Helen merely held out a bottle of tequila, a bag of limes and a can of frozen limeade.
“Time for a margarita night,” Helen declared.
“Just you and me?” Raylene queried.
Helen grinned. “Are you kidding me? Sweet Magnolias do not get to drink alone, or even in pairs. The others will be here soon.”
“Did Sarah know about this?”
Helen nodded. “She’s the one who made the calls,” she revealed as she headed for the kitchen to start making a batch of her lethal margaritas. “She thought you needed a boost to your spirits. She also said she had the Triple Sec. Any idea where I’d find it?”
As Raylene retrieved the bottle from the pantry, Helen found the blender without asking and then, with the skill of many years of practice, she put the ingredients for the frozen drinks in and turned it on. A moment later, she added crushed ice and ran the mixture through another cycle until she had an innocent-looking concoction that could fell a lumberjack.
“Sarah