added, “it isn’t ’zactly a car. It’s an Ess Yoo Vee. It’s big and red, like a fire truck. He bought it right before you busted your leg.”
“Broke my leg,” Georgia corrected. “I still think you and your dad should have flown into town, saved all those hours on the road. Especially considering there’s a perfectly good car in the garage that he could’ve—”
“I’m a pencil pusher, not Mr. America,” interrupted a teasing baritone. “What makes you think I could steer that boat of yours?”
It was Max, looking more gorgeous than Lily remembered. Tall and broad-shouldered, he seemed more at ease with himself than when she’d last seen him, more manly and mature. Marriage had done that to him, she supposed. Marriage and fatherhood.
Lily swallowed the lump of jealousy that formed in her throat and asked God to forgive her pettiness, because much as she’d wanted to be the one at his side when those things happened, he’d chosen someone else.
“Max!” Georgia waved him over. “C’mere and give your old fat mama a great big hug!”
He crossed the room in three long strides and bent to wrap his mother in a warm embrace. “First…you’re not fat.”
“I hope you’re gonna say ‘Second…you’re not old.’” She gave him a playful poke in the ribs.
“Do you see ‘Fool’ tattooed to my forehead?” He assumed a serious stance and a pious expression.
They enjoyed a laugh, then Georgia said, “You know my motto.”
“‘God and Nature have decreed that I will age,’” Max quoted, “‘…but I refuse to get old!’”
He crouched beside the footrest of her chair. “So, let’s have a look at this leg of yours.”
While Max inspected his mother’s cast, Lily did her best to sneak out of the diner unnoticed.
“Stop right there!” Georgia hollered.
Lily froze in her tracks, only too aware that all eyes were now on her. Caught in the act!
“Where d’you think you’re going, young lady? You can’t leave ’til you put your John Hancock on my leg!”
Feeling the heat of a blush creep into her cheeks, Lily moved woodenly toward the wheelchair. “Sorry,” she said, accepting Georgia’s felt-tipped pen. “Where would you like me to—”
“Daddy,” interrupted Nate’s hoarse whisper. He tugged at his father’s hand. “She’s bee-yoo-tee-ful!”
Lily chanced a quick glance in Max’s direction. Now he was blushing. Her heartbeat doubled when he met her eyes and smiled that oh-so-tantalizing half grin that had captivated her years ago. She’d changed a lot since he left for Chicago; she hoped he wouldn’t recognize her.
He got to his feet. “Lily? Lily London?”
Yeah, she thought bitterly, it’s me. The silly little twit who used to tag along behind you like a well-trained puppy, hoping for a pat on the head. She plastered what she hoped was a sophisticated smile on her face and tried to sound composed.
“How are you, Max?”
How long had it been since she last saw him? Five years? No, six…if she didn’t count the tens of thousands of times she’d pictured him in her dreams. Six long years since he’d left Amarillo—with his blushing bride on his arm.
“Wow. Look at you! I hardly recognized you. It’s great to see you.”
If he’d given her a thought at all in all these years—which was doubtful—he’d probably pictured her in braces and a ponytail, and carrying an armload of books. Surely the change hadn’t been that drastic, so why was he staring at her as if she had a third eye in the middle of her forehead?
Lily broke the intense eye contact by pretending to recap the pen, but ended up stabbing her palm with the point, instead.
She stifled an ouch, as Georgia said, “Who’da thunk that skinny freckle-faced li’l gal would grow up to be such a knockout!”
Nate took a step closer and smiled up at her. She’d heard through the grapevine that Max and Melissa had had a son. Mostly, she’d tried not to think about the fact that Max had started a life with someone other than her, because she’d loved him almost from the first moment they’d met—when she was a knobby-kneed seventh grader and he’d been Centennial High School’s star quarterback.
“Hi,” the boy said. “My name is Nathan Maxwell Sheridan. Max, here, is my dad. I’m very pleased to make your awk-a-ah…”
“Acquaintance,” his father helped.
“That’s it,” Nate said, nodding, “‘acquaintance.’” He looked up into Lily’s face. “What’s your name?”
“Her name is Lily,” Georgia said. “Lily London.”
“Sounds like a movie star’s name.” He furrowed his brow. “But I thought a lily was a flower.”
“It is,” Lily said, shrugging. “My mother’s name was Rose, see, so I guess she thought it would be neat to name my sisters and me after flowers.”
Nate giggled. “That’s pretty funny.” He giggled again. “What’re your sisters’ names?”
“The twins are Ivy and Violet, and there’s Cammi…which is short for Camellia.”
He narrowed his big, black-lashed eyes. “They’re nice names, but I like Lily best.”
A person would have to be made of stone not to warm to this child, she admitted, mirroring his friendly grin. “Well, thanks, Nate,” she said, shaking his extended hand. “And I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, too.”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “My dad here could sure use a wife. See, my mom died when I was a baby. He does pretty good, considering he’s not a lady, but he sure could use some help. So…are you married?”
Georgia chuckled under her breath as Max slapped a hand over his eyes and gave a loud sigh.
Lily found herself enjoying his discomfort, perhaps a little too much. “I’m afraid I’m a little too busy to…help your dad out. I have a job. Two, in fact.”
His brows nearly met in the center of his forehead. “Wow. Two jobs?” he said, stuffing both hands into his pants pockets.
As if on cue, Max did the same thing, Lily noticed. It was obvious the two spent a lot of time together, because Nate had also picked up Max’s tendency to say “first” this and “second” that. Maybe Nate hadn’t been too far from the mark when he’d said Max was an okay parent.
“I’m an animal rehabilitator,” she told the boy. “And I manage my father’s ranch.”
Nate’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
“She nurses sick and injured animals back to health,” Max explained, “then takes them back where they came from.” To Lily, he added, “Sorry. He’s a great kid, but sometimes he talks too much.”
She was about to agree that Nate was a great kid and add that Max had nothing to apologize for, when Nate said, “Your dad has a ranch? With horses and cows and stuff?”
Lily smiled again. “He sure does.”
“Man, I’ve never been on a real-live ranch before. They don’t have ’em in Chicago, y’know.”
She glanced at Max. He’d grown up in cattle country; why hadn’t he taken the boy to see his buddies’ homes during visits to his mother?
“Are you a vettin-air-yun?”
“No, Nate, but I do work very closely with one.”
He crossed both arms over