“In Scotland, tents keep the rain off the equipment. I would guess that’s not the problem here.”
“Not usually. If we were going during monsoon season, that would be different.”
“Monsoon season?”
“Summer storms come out of the Pacific and dump a ton of rain. Not that much of it sticks around. The ground is so hard it pretty much just runs off. Arizona is not known for its gentle rains.”
“No smirr.”
“Smirr?”
“Mist, drizzle. Typical Scots weather.”
“It’s totally different in the winter. In Phoenix the pollution just lies in a haze with no wind or storms to blow it through.”
“You’ve lived here your entire life, right?” Jones had leaned back in his chair.
“Not here, but in Arizona, when we weren’t on the road with the rodeo. Though my mama is from Texas. Daddy’s people hail from Arizona.”
He grinned at her. “Your accent changed when you talked about your parents. Do they live nearby? Any siblings?”
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment. But then, why should she be all hot and bothered about going a little country? “My parents are near enough, by Arizona standards. I have a younger brother who lives in Angel Crossing. My sister has a place outside Phoenix. What about you?”
“My brother is older and a professor at the university, too.”
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