Her Cowboy Reunion. Debbi Rawlins

to something on the jukebox. Savannah squinted to see what it was then realized Nina was covering up the fact that they’d lingered too long and for no apparent reason. No one was paying them any attention, but she’d get the third degree from Ron.

      “I’d better scoot,” Nina whispered. Then in a louder voice as she backed away she said, “Thanks for letting me cut in with my song.”

      “No problem.” Savannah shot a quick look in Ron’s direction before returning to the song list. He was still answering texts.

      She’d chosen several songs, but she couldn’t for the life of her recall what they were. What she really wanted to do was check out the back room, but she knew she’d better wait until Mike left.

      It was a tough call. Should she get it over with, see if he remembered her? Or try to avoid him? She wondered how often he came into town. All she really had to do was stay away from the two bars. Maybe the diner and steak house, too. And probably the Food Mart and variety store just to be safe. Definitely the hardware store but that one was easy.

      Oh, hell. The town wasn’t all that big. Twenty-three hundred people in the whole county, most of them spread out on ranches and farms.

      Should she or shouldn’t she?

      Since she couldn’t decide, she figured the smart thing would be to leave. Ron had had one foot out the door from the minute they’d arrived. If she pleaded a headache and went to her room, he just might decide to hit Kalispell.

      And she’d be left in peace to write up today’s notes. If she were to run into Mike again, at least she’d be more prepared.

      Taking a step backward, she was struck with the temptation to steal a quick look at the pool players. All she had to do was turn her head to the right...just for a second...

      She moved back another step and felt something directly behind her.

      A deep rumbling laugh caressed her ears.

      “We’ve gotta stop doing this.” It was Mike’s voice. His laugh. His hand touching her lower back.

      Savannah whirled around.

      He stood a couple feet away, holding his almost-empty mug aloft. Enough beer remained to have made a collision unpleasantly wet.

      “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t look. Again.” She glanced helplessly at Nina, who arched a brow at her, clearly trying not to laugh.

      “Excuse me,” another voice said from behind her. “Could I squeeze by to get to the jukebox?”

      Savannah turned, and as she moved out of the way, smiled an apology at the woman trying to hold on to a fistful of quarters. When she switched her gaze to Mike, the intensity with which he was studying her jolted her back to the problem.

      If she wanted to test the waters, now was the time.

      But Nina was right there, not more than ten feet away now. And Ron...he could be charging toward them for all she knew.

      Savannah turned her head and saw that he was still preoccupied with his phone. She inched around so that she wasn’t directly facing Nina.

      “I’m usually not this oblivious,” she said, keeping her voice low and steady, even as her courage faltered. “I would really appreciate it if you’d let me pay for a refill.”

      “I didn’t spill a drop,” he said with an easy smile. “But if you have the time, I’d like to buy you a drink.”

      “Oh. No.” Her mouth went dry. “All I meant... I’d just—” She cleared her throat. “I’m with someone.” She glanced briefly toward Ron. “But I’d like to pay for your beer. You know, as an apology. That’s what I meant...”

      His smile faded. “I understand,” he said, nodding slowly. “Can I ask you a quick question?”

      This was it.

      Savannah was an idiot. She wasn’t prepared, and there was nothing she could do but listen. “Okay.”

      “Have we met before?”

      Her chest actually hurt, though she didn’t think it was anything serious. Yeah, why would she get off that easily? “No,” she said, and even managed a smile. “I don’t see how.”

      “You’re not from around here?”

      “Nope.”

      “Billings?”

      She shook her head. “Denver.”

      “It’s not a line. You really do look familiar.”

      She shrugged. “I get that a lot.”

      Mike frowned. “I can’t see why,” he said, his whiskey-brown gaze roaming over her face and lingering briefly on her mouth. “I’m Mike, by the way.”

      “Savannah.” She’d gone by Elizabeth back then, if he’d known her name at all. Her middle name should throw him. “Well, I’d better get back to the table. I promise not to bulldoze over you again.”

      “No worries. I’m tough,” he said with a dazzling smile. It disappeared in the next instant. “I know where I’ve seen you—you were that kid—” He cut himself short and, with a slight frown, searched her eyes.

      Panic roiled in her stomach. She heard a whimper and, with a start, realized it had come from her. Unable to move, she stayed frozen in her tracks as she silently pleaded with him to not give her away.

      “No,” he said after the longest ten seconds on record. “I was thinking of someone I met at the Denver stockyards a while back.” He moved to let someone pass. “Ever been there?”

      She just shook her head.

      “Sorry, my mistake.” With a quick smile, he shrugged and walked away.

       Chapter Four

      Savannah had slept in longer than she’d intended, so by the time she hit the continental breakfast in the lobby, the only thing left on the silver trays was a blueberry muffin and some kind of fruit Danish bearing the indent of someone’s finger.

      Good thing she wasn’t all that hungry. She could smell the coffee, though. Before she made it to the cart with the silver urn, a woman came out from a room behind the desk.

      “Looking for coffee?” she asked, and Savannah nodded. “I was just coming to check if I needed to make a fresh pot.”

      “I’ll let you know in a second.”

      “I’ll go on and get some started. It seems you got shortchanged,” the woman said, nodding at the table.

      “I’m late.” Savannah grabbed a cup. “My fault, not yours.” She flipped the lever and watched the dark sludgy brew stream into the cup.

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I promise it’ll just take a minute.” The older woman’s updo was a ’60s-style beehive like the one Savannah had seen in pictures of her late grandmother. Glancing at the bowl of apples, the woman hustled back around the desk then paused at the door. “I have some oranges, if you’re interested.”

      “Thanks, but I think I’ll go see what they have at the bakery.”

      “Well, I feel just terrible. You paid for a room same as everyone else. We should feed you breakfast.”

      Savannah smiled. “Actually, I’m going over there for a latte. So, please, don’t worry about it.”

      The woman darted a look at the glass door. “You know, your fiancé left about ten minutes ago. Maybe he went to get something to surprise you.”

      Savannah frowned. She’d only spoken with Patty at the desk, and yet this woman knew Ron was her fiancé. Oh, great.

      “We haven’t met.