had been happening—and just as clearly didn’t like it.
“The mechanic in Riversdale said it should be finished the day after tomorrow if all goes well.”
“Good!” Mary proclaimed with a fierce nod, then turned back to her stew.
Rorie couldn’t help smiling at the older woman’s astuteness. Mary was telling her that the sooner she was off Elk Run the better for everyone concerned. Rorie had to agree.
Kate Logan arrived promptly at ten. She wore tight-fitting jeans, red checkered western shirt and a white silk scarf knotted at her throat. Her long honey-colored hair was woven into thick braids that fell over her shoulders. At first glance, Kate looked closer to sixteen than the twenty-four Rorie knew her to be.
Kate greeted her with a warm smile. “Rorie, there wasn’t any need to wear something so nice. I should’ve told you to dress casually.”
Rorie’s shoulders slumped. “I brought along more dresses than jeans. Am I overdressed? I could change,” she said hesitantly.
“Oh, no, you look lovely...” But for the first time, Kate seemed worried. The doubt that played across her features would have been amusing if Rorie hadn’t already been suffering from such a potent bout of guilt. It was all too obvious that Kate viewed Rorie as a threat.
If Clay Franklin had chosen that moment to walk into the kitchen, Rorie would’ve called him every foul name she could think of. She was furious with him for doing this to her—and to Kate.
“I wear a lot of dresses because of my job at the library,” Rorie rushed to explain. “I also date quite a bit. I’ve been seeing someone—Dan Rogers—for a while now. In fact, it’s his car I was driving.”
“You’re dating someone special?” Kate asked, sounding relieved.
“Yes, Dan and I’ve been going out for several months.”
Mary coughed noisily and sent Rorie an accusing glare; Rorie ignored her. “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”
“Oh, sure, any time you’re ready.” When they were outside, Kate turned to face Rorie. Looking uncomfortable, she slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “I’ve embarrassed you and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t trust you and Clay.”
“There’s no need for an apology. I’m sure I wouldn’t react any differently if Clay was my fiancé.”
Kate shook her head. “But I feel as if I should apologize. I’m not going to be the kind of wife Clay wants if I can’t trust him around a pretty girl once in a while.”
Had the earth cracked open just then, Rorie would gladly have fallen in. That had to be preferable to looking at Kate and feeling the things she did about Clay Franklin.
“Don’t have any worries about me,” she said, dismissing the issue as nonchalantly as she could. “I’ll be out of everyone’s hair in a day or two.”
“Oh, Rorie, please, I don’t want you to rush off because I had a silly attack of jealousy. Now I feel terrible.”
“Don’t, please. I have to leave... I want to leave. My vacation’s on hold until I can get my car repaired and there’s so much I’d planned to see and do.” She dug in her bag for a brochure. “Have you ever been up to Victoria on Vancouver Island?”
“Once, but I was only five, too young to remember much of anything,” Kate told her, scanning the pamphlet. “This does sound like fun. Maybe this is where Clay and I should have our honeymoon.”
“It’d be perfect for that,” Rorie murmured. Her heart constricted with a sudden flash of pain, but she ruthlessly forced down her emotions, praying Kate hadn’t noticed. “I’m looking forward to visiting Canada. By the way, Mary’s driving to Riversdale to visit her sister later in the week. She’s asked me to take charge of cooking dinner if I’m still here. Would you like to help? We could have a good time and really get to know each other.”
“Oh, that would be great.” Kate slipped her arm around Rorie’s waist and gave her an enthusiastic squeeze. “Thank you, Rorie. I know you’re trying to reassure me, and I appreciate it.”
That had been exactly Rorie’s intent.
“It probably sounds selfish,” Kate continued, “but I’m glad your car broke down when it did. Without any difficulty at all, I can see us becoming the best of friends.”
Rorie could, too, but that only added to her growing sense of uneasiness.
* * *
Nightingale was a sleepy kind of town. Businesses lined both sides of Main Street, with a beauty shop, an insurance agency, Nellie’s Café and a service station on one side, a grocery store, pharmacy and five-and-dime on the other. Rorie had the impression that things happened in their own time in Nightingale, Oregon. Few places could have been more unlike San Francisco, where people always seemed to be rushing. Here, no one seemed to feel any need to hurry. It was as though this town, with its population of fifteen hundred, existed in a time warp. Rorie found the relaxed pace unexpectedly pleasant.
“The library is across from the high school on Maple Street,” Kate explained as she parked her Ford on Main. “That way, students have easy access.”
Rorie climbed out of the car, automatically pressing down the door lock.
“You don’t have to do that here. There hasn’t been a vehicle stolen in...oh, at least twenty years.”
Rorie’s eyes must have revealed her surprise, because Kate went on, “Actually, we had trouble passing our last bond issue for a new patrol car. People couldn’t see the need since there hasn’t been a felony committed in over two years. About the worst thing that goes on is when Harry Ackerman gets drunk. That happens once or twice a year and he’s arrested for disturbing the peace.” She grinned sheepishly. “He sings old love songs to Nellie at the top of his lungs in front of the café. They were apparently sweet on each other a long time back. Nellie married someone else and Harry never got over the loss of his one true love.”
Looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder, Rorie looked around the quiet streets.
“The fire and police station are in the same building,” Kate pointed out next. “And there’s a really nice restaurant on Oak. If you want, we could have lunch there.”
“Only if you let me treat.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it,” Kate said with a shake of her head that sent her braids flying. “You’re my guest.”
Rorie decided not to argue, asking another question instead. “Where do the ranchers get their supplies?” It seemed to her that type of store would do a thriving business, yet she hadn’t seen one.
“At Garner’s Feed and Supply. It’s on the outskirts of town—I’ll take you past on the way out. In fact, we should take a driving tour so you can see a little more of Nightingale. Main Street is only a small part of it.”
By the time Kate and Rorie walked over to Maple and the library, Rorie’s head was swimming with the names of all the people Kate had insisted on introducing. It seemed everyone had heard about her car problems and was eager to talk to her. Several mentioned the Grange dance that night and said they’d be looking for her there.
“You’re really going to be impressed with the library,” Kate promised as they walked the two streets over to Maple. “Dad and the others worked hard to get the levy passed so we could build it. People here tend to be tightfisted. Dad says they squeeze a nickel so hard, the buffalo belches.”
Rorie laughed outright at that.
The library was the largest building in town, a sprawling one-story structure with lots of windows. The hours were posted on the double glass doors, and Rorie noted that the library wouldn’t open until the middle of the afternoon, still several hours away.
“It