A Nuisance. Lass Small

glances, but Carrie just watched.

      Kirt then said, “No problem. I’ve got some things you can borrow.”

      Still working on the mixed-up connections, Stefan next tried a verbal rejection, “I had a late lunch.”

      “Then you can sit with us for dessert.”

      Stefan’s eyes went reluctantly to see how Carrie was taking all this, and he met her unsympathetic regard. How like her to be aloof when a man was in trouble. No heart. No compassion. No sliver of concern in that icy heart of hers.

      He was lucky her strawberry hair hadn’t ensnared him. She’d let a man go to the guillotine and never bat those heavily lashed eyelids. She was a mean woman, and he’d made a lucky escape when he’d shunned her.

      Then to indicate an unarguable defense, Stefan looked at his cast-off, greasy shoes and shook his head once. “I got to stay outside. Thanks, anyway.”

      And one of Kirt’s pushy daughters said, “We’ll all come outside. We’ll sit on the porch.” And she went to the house to tell her mother.

      So her mother hollered for the other girls to come in to help move the meal outside.

      Stefan warned them, “It’s gonna rain.”

      And the daughters laughed. “The porch is big enough. You can sit in the rain and get cleaned off.”

      Snippy. He sorted the daughters out and that one was Helen. He grinned and glanced aside to find Carrie’s eyes weighing him.

      Why would she do that?

      He told that slender, nothing woman with all that blond-red hair, “You’d better get inside. Rain’ll melt you.”

      And wouldn’t you know, she had a reply, right away. She said, “I’m not made of sugar.”

      He was back inside the Jeep’s engine, but he did hear her. He mumbled, “I can’t argue that.”

      She asked, “What?”

      “I said, ‘None of the tires is flat.’” But he pulled his head out of the engine to look at her to see if she believed him, and she laughed.

      Those damned brown eyes of hers had all sorts of sparkles in them before those lashes dropped down and hid it all. Asinine woman.

      It was Kirt who told Carrie, “Hadn’t you better get on home before the storm hits?”

      “I was invited to dinner before Stefan got here. If there isn’t enough to include us both, he can leave.”

      Stefan relaxed. “Yeah.”

      “Or he can follow me home, to be sure I get there in this wild and woolly storm that’s going to spray us with a few sprinkles.”

      Kirt narrowed his eyes and considered her.

      Stefan said, “With the storm coming, you probably ought to get on home. I’ll follow you and come back tomorrow and finish this up.”

      Kirt broke in. “No. You stay. We promised you dessert. You can’t wiggle out of that. We’re having Mildred’s pe-can pie.”

      Stefan groused, “No! Good thing I’ve already eaten. Her pie is so good I’ll have to have two pieces.”

      The father put in, “The girls all can make that pie. They’re good cooks.”

      Stefan thought what a touter Kirt was. He’d get those girls married off —but not to Stefan. He went back to working on rescuing the tangled connections.

      Kirt said, “Give it up for now. It’s about to rain.”

      “I don’t have much more to do. I’ll get it done. Go ahead. I’ll be quick. Carrie, you hold the flashlight.”

      Kirt said, “No. I will.”

      Stefan countered, “You need to clean up a little before you go inside Mildred’s pristine house. You know that for a fact.”

      And Kirt knew it. “We’ll fix you a place. Come along, Carrie.”

      But Stefan told Kirt, “She’s gotta hold the flashlight.”

      There was nothing Kirt could do about that. He had to go inside. His daughters were all inside the house, helping their mother. Carrie was the only one left outside to hold the light for Stefan. Damn!

      Kirt gave Carrie’s slender body a look and was reassured. It was just her hair. Nothing else on her could lure a man, and he knew that Stefan was immune to her. So he turned away. “Don’t be long.” And Kirt left.

      As soon as he was out of earshot, that nasty Carrie giggled.

      Stefan chided, “Shame on you.”

      “Hush. Don’t say another word, or I’ll leave you here and go on home.”

      Stefan groused, “That’s just exactly what you’d think of doing. You’re a witch!”

      “You’ve said something like that before.”

      “I never!”

      She was emphatic, “When I wouldn’t stay the night with you.”

      “Shame on you, saying that kind of thing about a nice young man like me.”

      “You’re past thirty.” She pointed that out like he hadn’t known such a fact. “You’re supposed to be a responsible man.”

      “I’m getting this damned motor rewired. That’s really taking responsibility the hard way.”

      She was flippant. “So’s behaving yourself.”

      “You weren’t interested.”

      She didn’t say anything.

      He lifted his head up and looked at her across the engine. “You’re a damned tease.”

      She didn’t respond.

      “You’re lucky I didn’t wring your neck.”

      She was silent.

      The rain started gently.

      He said, “Go on inside. I can finish this in just a minute.”

      The flashlight held steady.

      He told her, “You’re going to get wet.”

      And her husky, wicked voice replied, “I’ve already told you that I won’t melt.”

      “You won’t. You’re hard-hearted and mean. There isn’t anything on this earth that would make you pliant.”

      And her laugh was low and soft.

      * * *

      It wasn’t long before Stefan wiped his hands on his greasy coveralls. He went to the Jeep and slid onto the newspaper Kirt had insisted on putting across the driver’s seat. The Jeep started like it’d never had a problem, and Stefan gave a huge sigh of endurance.

      He turned off the ignition, got out of the Jeep and looked at Carrie. He said, “You can turn off the flashlight. We’re through. You’re good help. Thank you.”

      She didn’t reply. She just turned off the light and went over to put it in the glove compartment.

      The initial rain was gentle. TEXAS rain was just about always like that, so as the ground wouldn’t be too shocked with the coming wetness. Stefan lifted his face to it.

      In the dusk’s light rain, Stefan stood in his messed-up coveralls, with that earring and the rifted eyebrow. He looked more like a pirate than ever. Carrie licked her lips.

      From the house, Kirt hollered, “Hustle up, you all, we’re just about finished!”

      “Coming.” Stefan said the word so they could hear him on the porch, but he was looking at Carrie.

      She smiled faintly.