The Ballad of Dixon Bell. Lynnette Kent
quarter horse mare he had yet to break to saddle—at the ranch until he could find the right place to board them in North Carolina.
Meanwhile, the evening was wearing on and he hadn’t had his dinner. Maybe some good food would take the edge off his temper, mitigate his urge to murder L.T. LaRue. And since he doubted Miss Daisy’s cats would be willing to cook for him, Dixon grabbed the keys to his truck and headed for the one place in town he could be sure of getting a decent meal and friendly company.
If he couldn’t be with Kate, the folks at Charlie’s Carolina Diner were the next best thing.
KATE FELL ASLEEP at the kitchen table and woke to find Kelsey staring down at her. “What are you doing?”
She sat up, wincing at the stiffness in her back. “I’m not sure. What time is it?”
“Almost eight.”
“It’s not!” But, of course, it was. Kate braced her palms against the table and pushed herself to her feet. “Um…let me see what I can find to make for dinner.” Standing at the door to the pantry, with her mind still fogged by the wisps of a dream, she couldn’t seem to find much inspiration. “We’re down to the bare bones here. Mushroom soup, anyone?” Kelsey stuck her tongue out. “Refried beans?”
“We could have burritos.”
“Except there’s no cheese, no salsa and no tortillas. Just beans.”
Trace came into the kitchen. “Gross.”
Kate agreed. “No eggs, no butter, no pasta or sauce.”
Kelsey crossed her arms. “So let’s go out somewhere.”
For once, Trace agreed with his sister. “Sounds good.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t have enough cash for fast food.” And she really didn’t like eating out of a paper bag.
“So we can go someplace that takes plastic.”
“Possibly.” She looked at her kids. Trace wore the oversize T-shirt and hugely sagging pants that comprised the required uniform among his friends. Both pieces had been ironed at the beginning of the day, for all the good it had done. Kelsey’s shorts were just that—barely conforming to the dress code that required them to reach her fingertips. Once home, she had changed the relatively modest shirt she’d worn to school for a clinging tank top that left a strip of midriff showing and almost nothing to the imagination.
As for herself…well, she was decent, in shorts and a T-shirt, but not really dressed. “Where could we go at this hour, without changing clothes?”
Kelsey snapped her fingers. “I saw a sign at the diner. Charlie takes plastic now.”
“Really? I haven’t eaten there in years.” Kate wasn’t sure why, but the suggestion seemed like the perfect solution for her dilemma tonight. “So, here’s the deal. Kelsey, you put some kind of shirt over that tank top.”
“Why?”
Kate ignored the question. “And the two of you agree not to fight, not even to insult each other for the next two hours. If you get into an argument while we’re eating in public, I will drag you out by your ears and you’ll be grounded for the rest of the summer. And that’s a promise.”
The two teenagers glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, a kind of mutual commitment. Kelsey looked at Kate again. “Do I really have to wear a shirt?”
“Only if you want to drive the car.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kelsey stopped the Volvo in front of the diner. Kate let out a long, relieved breath. “That was good. You’re getting to be a very smooth driver.”
The girl’s increasing confidence did not, however, serve to ease Kate’s anxiety about being responsible for teaching her daughter to drive. And in just two years, she would have to start all over with Trace.
He walked a step behind as she and Kelsey crossed the parking lot, past a couple of pickups parked next to each other near the front door. “Next time, Kelse, maybe you could park in a regular space.”
Kelsey turned and stuck her tongue out at him. “There aren’t any spaces, you jerk. It’s all gravel.”
“But people usually line up at the same angle, in a row, more or less. You aren’t anywhere close to these trucks. Talk about dumb.”
Kate gave him a quelling glance. “Talk about this anymore and we’re going home without dinner.”
Since Trace ate almost constantly, in order to support his still-growing frame, the threat worked beautifully. The three of them got inside the diner without another cross word being exchanged.
The bell on the door jingled as they came through, drawing the attention of the four people talking at the counter. Kate was aware of Abby Brannon and her dad, Charlie, the owners of the diner, and Adam DeVries, one of her classmates from high school…familiar faces she might have expected to find here any night she chose to come. But the fourth person was, again, totally unexpected.
“Dixon?” She whispered his name, feeling as if she’d conjured him up from her dream in the kitchen.
But he heard her and got to his feet, looking just as good as he had this afternoon—tall and cool in khaki slacks and a light-blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back. “Hey, Kate. Two accidental meetings in one day— I’d say I’ve got a lot of good luck going for me. And it’s not raining this time.”
“No…no, it’s not.” Thank goodness she had combed her hair and put on some lipstick before she left the house. “It’s a lovely evening.” She recovered her manners and pulled away from his deep-brown gaze. “Hi, Abby. How are you?”
“Just fine.” The other woman came around the counter. Hands on Kate’s shoulders, Abby kissed her on both cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re here. The kids come in all the time, of course, but I only get to see you out in the car, waiting to take them home. Have a seat.” She led them to a booth on the wall. “What can I get y’all to drink?”
The kids ordered soft drinks and Kate asked for iced tea. Abby whisked away…and then two tall, handsome men pulled a freestanding table and a couple of chairs over to extend the booth. Adam sat down on Kate’s side of the table and Dixon sat across from him.
“It’ll be easier on Abby this way,” Dixon explained when Kate looked at him. “If you don’t mind?” His grin was apologetic and yet confident, inviting her to share a private joke.
“Of course not.” And she didn’t, except that seeing him again had seriously disrupted her ability to think. Her heart was pounding under her ribs, her breath had caught in her lungs. She didn’t think she could actually eat in this state.
Kelsey and Trace were staring at Dixon, confusion and even a little suspicion on their faces. Recalled to her responsibility, Kate made the introductions. “Dixon, these are my children. Kelsey and Trace, this is Dixon Bell. You’ve met Miss Daisy Crawford—he’s her grandson. He went to school with Abby and me, but he’s been gone for a long time and just came home. You know Mr. DeVries, of course.” She only hoped they wouldn’t comment on the fact that DeVries Construction competed with their dad’s company for business around town. “How are you, Adam?”
Adam nodded toward the kids, then gently shook the hand she extended. “J-just f-fine, Kate. I t-trust you’re the s-s-same. All r-recovered f-f-from the w-wed-ding?” Courtly in manner, tall, with dark hair and a construction worker’s muscles, Adam should have been anybody’s dream husband. Kate had never understood why he was still single.
Dixon leaned forward. “Somebody’s just married?”
Kate met his gaze. She could feel herself blushing, though there was no reason to be embarrassed. “Pete Mitchell and my sister, Mary Rose, got married a few weeks ago.”
“That’s terrific. I haven’t had