Lone Star Diary. Darlene Graham
in his uniform this morning.”
“Frankie…listen. This is not the right time, but I was thinking…” Luke lingered with a hand jammed in his pocket, and for the life of her, Frankie could have sworn this tough Texas Ranger had grown suddenly shy. “I was thinking of what you said, about your birthday…”
“My birthday?”
“Yeah. I was thinking… Do you like the food at that little restaurant across the street?”
Frankie turned her head. “The Aggie? The Hungry Aggie?” Having lived in Five Points all her life, Frankie had a certain native affinity for the storefront diner. But its garish fifties-era red-and-green decor, its ancient ceiling fans coated with dust, and its scarred-up high-backed booths might not hold the same charm for everyone.
But Luke was studying the place with genuine interest. “Yeah. They serve dinner?”
“Absolutely.” It was hard to resist Virgil Parson’s cooking, even if you’d grown up eating it all your life. Now that Five Points drew in folks from along the Hill Country travel corridor, Virgil and his chuck wagon menu had become a tourist attraction. People drove from as far away as Austin to enjoy Parson’s most famous dish, the Darlin’, followed by a slice of his mouthwatering Texas cream pie. “Friday is Darlin’ night.”
“Darlin’ night?”
“Don’t let the name fool you. It takes courage to face down a Darlin’.”
She caught a twinkle in his eye. “Well, I’ve always got my gun.”
She kept her expression serious. “If you chicken out, there’s always the fried catfish.”
Luke looked up and down the curving Main Street. “I believe I am starting to like this place. So, you want to grab a bite to eat with me?”
The image of the wedding ring flashed into her mind, though she couldn’t see it with his hand jammed into the pocket of his Levi’s.
“I’m getting a room in town,” he explained when she didn’t respond. “I hate eating alone. Besides,” he continued offhandedly, “You said it was your birthday…” He paused. “And I believe you said it was not exactly a happy one. I’d love to be the one to cheer you up.”
“Mr. Driscoll—”
“Luke. It’s the least I can do after getting you shot at.”
“Luke, I…you’re married, right?”
His expression remained calm, except for a tiny frown line between his brows. He shook his head slowly, once. “I am not.”
“Oh.” This caught her off guard, as she had been assuming all along, much to her disappointment, she now realized, that he was. “But…you’re wearing a…isn’t that a wedding band?” She gave a nod toward the source of her confusion, still tucked in his pocket.
He slid his hand out and glanced at the ring as if he had forgotten it was there. His expression grew sad. “I’ve kept it on ever since my wife died. For reasons of my own.”
“Oh. You’re a widower?”
“Yes. And you said you’re in the process of getting a divorce. So. Free agents, both of us. Will you have dinner with me?”
Frankie didn’t really need to mull it over. For the past few weeks she had been eating spaghetti and tuna casserole and bologna sandwiches surrounded by Robbie’s rowdy boys. “On one condition.”
He raised that eyebrow again.
“You let me buy the pie.”
He smiled. For the first time since she’d met him, Luke Driscoll gave her a full-fledged smile. And Frankie found she liked that smile. A lot. “Around seven?”
“Six. Parson gets cranky if people keep him open too late. And we’ll want to get there before—”
“The pies are all picked over?” Ah-ha. Perhaps a hint of humor, after all. She was gratified when Luke Driscoll flashed her a smile one more time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Well, so much for shriveling up and becoming a boring old drudge. Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. I’m suddenly too busy hiding the witness to a murder. Witnessing a shooting. Getting shot at! And as if all of that wasn’t crazy enough, I’ve accepted a dinner date with one very handsome man.
He’s the reason for all of this…for want of a better word…excitement. Luke Driscoll.
We’re meeting at six at the Hungry Aggie. I’m waiting at the store. I couldn’t see the point of having him drive over to Robbie’s house. I thought about going back there to change clothes, but wouldn’t that make it seem like a real date? Like I was trying too hard? Like I was really attracted to him?
Okay. I am really attracted to him. But this set-up is all wrong. I’ll feel better about the whole deal if I tell myself I haven’t actually accepted a date when I’m not even divorced yet.
Life is so weird.
Robbie has just left for the evening. We did get one wall papered despite all the upheaval, but I’m exhausted. I couldn’t wait to get Sissy and the baby packed off so I could jot down some of my thoughts in peace. This business out at the caves is scary. Luke told me not to discuss it, so I didn’t, but it was one long afternoon.
Now I’m perched up on this stool by the credenza, looking out at Main Street through the storefront window, counting down the minutes until six o’clock and wondering if I’ve lost my mind.
SHE SAW HIM striding up the sidewalk toward the restaurant at six sharp. He chopped a hand up in a wave when he saw her stepping out of the shop.
He stood outside the door of the restaurant while a pickup rattled past on the brick pavers. Frankie fiddled with the balky old door of the Rising Star and finally got it locked.
She smiled nervously at him as she crossed the street, pulling her leather jacket snug over her breasts. His gaze was so steady that she wasn’t sure if it was the January wind giving her the chills or those eyes.
At an altitude of twenty-five hundred feet, Five Points was cool at night, even in summer. But this evening was especially dark and wintry, with the stars emerging big and bright. The warm, mouthwatering scent of Parson’s grill drifted out into the cold air and the golden glow of the interior lights highlighted the profiles of diners and beckoned more in.
Luke held the door for her. Several heads turned the second she stepped inside. Frankie hadn’t counted on this, how it would feel, being seen when she was with a man not her husband. She had forgotten how thoroughly parochial Five Points could be. None of the regulars at the bar smiled at her—or Luke—as his tall frame ambled past their backs on the stools. They stared, first sidelong at the couple, then shiftily at one another, then back down at their platters of chicken-fried steak.
“Friendly town,” Frankie mouthed at Luke as she unwound the silk and mohair scarf from her neck and slid her arms out of the sable-brown leather jacket that was not typical attire in the Hungry Aggie. Her little sister even wore overalls to work sometimes, for heaven’s sake.
Luke winked, grinning at her as they settled into the booth.
She was suddenly glad she hadn’t been overly fashion-conscious when she’d changed out of her wet clothes earlier. She had been in a rush to get back downstairs so she’d grabbed loafers, a pair of stretch corduroys and a V-neck argyle sweater. Thank goodness it was a conservative outfit that said, This isn’t a date. And it certainly isn’t, she reminded herself. It’s more like an act of pity…on his part.
But what shone in Luke’s eyes now was not pity.
She avoided his gaze by smiling up at Nattie Rose Neuberger, who skated by with a tray of blue-plate specials and big eyes at Luke.
The waitress, a buddy