A Little Bit Country: A Little Bit Country / Blackberry Summer. RaeAnne Thayne
Rorie curtsied and danced a few steps with an imaginary partner, clapping her hands.
Mary tried to hide a smile at Rorie’s antics. “Oh, get away with you now. All I was looking for was a yes or a no.”
“I had a great time.”
“It was nothing like those city hotspots, I’ll wager.”
“You’re right about that,” Rorie told her, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“You seeing Kate today?”
Rorie shook her head and popped a piece of bread in the toaster. “She’s got a doctor’s appointment this morning and a teachers’ meeting this afternoon. She’s going to stop by later if she has a chance, but if not I’ll be seeing her for sure tomorrow.” Rorie intended to spend as much time as she could with Clay’s fiancée. She genuinely enjoyed her company, and being with her served two useful purposes. It helped keep Rorie occupied, and it prevented her from being alone with Clay.
“What are you going to do today, then?” Mary asked, frowning.
Rorie laughed. “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, I promise to stay out of your way.”
The housekeeper gave a snort of amusement—or was it relief?
“Actually, I thought I’d finish putting the data Clay needs for his pedigree-research program into the computer. There isn’t much left and I should be done by this afternoon.”
“So if someone comes looking for you, that’s where you’ll be?”
“That’s where I’ll be,” Rorie echoed. She didn’t know who would “come looking for her,” as Mary put it. The housekeeper made it sound as though a posse was due to arrive any minute demanding to know where the Franklin men were hiding Rorie Campbell.
Taking her coffee cup with her, Rorie walked across the yard and into the barn. Once more, she was impressed with all the activity that went on there. She’d come to know several of the men by their first names and returned their greetings with a smile and a wave.
As before, she found the office empty. She set down her cup while she turned on the computer and collected Clay’s data. She’d just started to type it in when she heard someone enter the room. Pausing, she twisted around.
“Rorie.”
“Clay.”
They were awkward with each other now. Almost afraid.
“I didn’t realize you were here.”
She stood abruptly. “I’ll leave...”
“No. I came up to get something. I’ll be gone in a minute.”
She nodded and sat back down. “Okay.”
He walked briskly to his desk and sifted through the untidy stacks of paper. His gaze didn’t waver from the task, but his jaw was tight, his teeth clenched. Impatience marked his every move. “Kate told me you’re involved with a man in San Francisco. I...didn’t know.”
“I’m not exactly involved with him—at least not in the way you’re implying. His name is Dan Rogers, and we’ve been seeing each other for about six months. He’s divorced. The MG is his.”
Clay’s mouth thinned, but he still didn’t look at her. “Are you in love with him?”
“No.”
Lowering his head, Clay rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I had no right to ask you that. None. Forgive me, Rorie.” Then, clutching his papers, he stalked out of the office without a backward glance.
Rorie was so shaken by the encounter that when she went back to her typing, she made three mistakes in a row and had to stop to regain her composure.
When the phone rang, she ignored it, knowing Mary or one of the men would answer it. Soon afterward, she heard running footsteps behind her and swivelled around in the chair.
A breathless Skip bolted into the room. Shoulders heaving, he pointed in the direction of the telephone. “It’s for you,” he panted.
“Me?” It could only be Dan.
He nodded several times, his hand braced theatrically against his heart.
She picked up the extension. “Hello,” she said, her fingers closing tightly around the receiver. “This is Rorie Campbell.”
“Miss Campbell,” came the unmistakable voice of George, the mechanic in Riversdale, “let me put it to you like this. I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“Now what?” she cried, pushing her hair off her forehead with an impatient hand. She had to get out of Elk Run.
“My man picked up the water pump for your car in Portland just like we planned.”
“Good.”
George sighed heavily. “There’s a minor problem, though.”
“Minor?” she repeated hopefully.
“Well, not that minor actually.”
“Oh, great... Listen, George, I’d prefer not to play guessing games with you. Just tell me what happened and how long it’s going to be before I can get out of here.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Campbell, but they shipped the wrong part. It’ll be two, possibly three more days.”
“What’s the matter?” Skip asked when Rorie indignantly replaced the receiver.
She crossed her arms over her chest and breathed deeply, battling down the angry frustration that boiled inside her. The problem wasn’t George’s fault, or Skip’s, or Kate’s, or anyone else’s.
“Rorie?” Skip asked again.
“They shipped the wrong part for the car,” she said flatly. “I’m going to be stuck here for another two or possibly three days.”
Skip didn’t look the least bit perturbed at this information. “Gee, Rorie, that’s not so terrible. We like having you around—and you like it here, don’t you?”
“Yes, but...” How could she explain that her reservations had nothing to do with their company, the farm or even with country life? She couldn’t very well blurt out that she was falling in love with his brother, that she had to escape before she ruined their lives.
“But what?” Skip asked.
“My vacation.”
“I know you had other plans, but you can relax and enjoy yourself here just as well, can’t you?”
She didn’t attempt to answer him, but closed her eyes and nodded, faintly.
“Well, listen, I’ve got to get back to work. Do you need me for anything?”
She shook her head. When the office door closed, Rorie sat down in front of the computer again and poised her fingers over the keyboard. She sat like that, unmoving, for several minutes as her thoughts churned. What was she going to do? Every time she came near Clay the attraction was so strong that trying to ignore it was like swimming upstream. Rorie had planned on leaving Elk Run the following day. Now she was trapped here for God only knew how much longer.
She got up suddenly and started pacing the office floor. Dan hadn’t called her, either. She might have vanished from the face of the earth as far as he was concerned. The stupid car was his, after all, and the least he could do was make some effort to find out what had happened. Rorie knew she wasn’t being entirely reasonable, but she was caught up in the momentum of her anger and frustration.
Impulsively she snatched up the telephone receiver, had the operator charge the call to her San Francisco number and dialed Dan’s office.