LITMIR.BIZ

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right with you.”

      Angie Duncan was a single mother working her way through college. Her shift at the Cattle Call started at eleven in the morning and ended at six in the evening. Juliet didn’t know how the woman managed to stay on her feet, much less have a cheery disposition, as well.

      “So how’s my best friend today?” Angie asked as she approached Juliet.

      With a lukewarm smile, Juliet said, “Okay, I suppose.”

      Angie made a sound of disapproval with her tongue. “Where’s that smile I always see on your face? You look like you’ve just lost your best friend. And that can’t be true, ’cause I’m here,” she teased.

      Juliet tried to laugh, but the sound was garbled. “I’m fine, really, Angie. I just had a long weekend and I’d like to bang an iron skillet over my boss’s head.”

      Laughing quietly, Angie pulled out her order pad. “Okay, tell me what you want for lunch and then you can tell me the rest.”

      “I’d really like a big greasy cheeseburger with piles of onion rings and a vanilla shake,” Juliet told her wryly.

      Grinning, Angie tapped a pencil thoughtfully against her chin. “But you’re actually going to eat a salad with unsweetened iced tea, right?”

      Juliet sighed. “Yeah. Make it a grilled chicken salad.”

      The waitress left to take the order to the kitchen. While she was gone, Juliet glanced around the café. Other than herself, there were only five people: two older couples and a young man drinking coffee and scanning the daily newspaper out of Victoria.

      For some reason Juliet suddenly wondered if Matt Sanchez ever came to town and ate in this café. Probably not. He was from the rich set and the Cattle Call catered to the middle and lower classes of the area. Well, that was all right with her. She didn’t want to rub elbows with his sort. And she wished to heck she could quit thinking about the man. But ever since the man had kissed her, she couldn’t seem to get her mind back in its regular groove.

      The swinging doors to the kitchen swished open and Juliet turned her head to see Angie returning with a tall glass of iced tea. She set it in front of Juliet, then pushed a small container with packets of sweetener toward her.

      As Juliet emptied the fake sugar into the tea and stirred, the waitress propped her upper body on the counter.

      “Okay. What’s the matter with old Gilbert boy? Been chasing you around the office?”

      Juliet groaned. “Lord no! The man doesn’t have enough testosterone in his body for those kinds of impulses. I doubt he sleeps in the same bed with his wife.”

      Angie giggled. “Lucky her.”

      Juliet took a long sip from her glass. “He wants me to do a story that I don’t want to do. And when I more or less told him that I didn’t want to do it, he threatened to fire me.”

      “That’s terrible. What sort of story?”

      “Something personal about a family around here. He thinks it would grab readers. I think it would cause more trouble than it would be worth.”

      Thankfully, Angie was prudent enough not to press her for details on the subject. Instead, she asked, “So how did the wedding go? A big deal, huh?”

      Sighing heavily, Juliet nodded. “Very big. The house was overflowing with flowers. Real ones. There was live music, lots of food, champagne and dancing. I’ve never seen so many diamonds and minks in my life.”

      With her chin resting on her palm, a wistful expression stole over the waitress’s face. “Gosh, can you imagine that kind of wedding? That sort of life is a fairy tale to me.”

      Juliet let out a dry laugh. “Me, too.”

      Angie waved a dismissive hand at her. “Don’t give me that. You’re gorgeous. It wouldn’t be any problem for you to get a rich man. That is, if you wanted one,” she added coyly.

      Rolling her eyes, Juliet said, “Well, I’ve had plenty of trials and errors. I don’t want one.”

      “Juliet! You—”

      The waitress was going to say more but the bell at the pickup window rang and she went to fetch Juliet’s order. When she returned with the salad, Juliet asked in a casual voice, “Angie, do you know any of the Sanchezes or Saddlers?”

      The woman’s brows lifted thoughtfully. “No. Not personally. I’ve seen some of them around before. Mercedes and Nicolette come in here to eat from time to time. So do Lex and Cordero.”

      The four that Angie had just mentioned were all cousins. Juliet had learned that much at the wedding. She’d also learned the Sandbur was owned by two sisters, Geraldine Saddler and Elizabeth Sanchez. The latter had passed away and Geraldine was in semiretirement. It was the two women’s grown children that were now seeing after the multimillion dollar ranch.

      Thoughtfully, Juliet picked up her fork and stabbed into a morsel of chicken. “But not Matt Sanchez?”

      Angie shook her head. “Not on my shift. But that’s not surprising. I hear he’s something of a hermit.”

      Juliet had never been one to listen to gossip, but this time she couldn’t help herself. “Really?”

      “Yeah. That’s what a friend of mine who used to work on the Sandbur said. He never saw Matt leave the ranch for anything.”

      “Oh. Well, I’m sure he’s a busy man.” Busy insulting women like her, she thought irritably.

      “I’d say it has more to do with losing his wife. She died a few years back and everyone says he’s never been the same. ’Course, since I didn’t know him, that would be hard for me to say. I’m just telling you what I hear.” She looked curiously at Juliet. “Why were you asking about him, anyway?”

      Why indeed, Juliet wondered. He should be the last thing on her mind. Instead, he was all she could think about. The whole thing was maddening.

      “Oh, just curious. He was in the wedding party and he struck me as—well, different from the other men in the family.”

      Angie gave her a mischievous wink. “Honey, it’s his brother, Cordero, that strikes me. He’s a hunk and then some.”

      Juliet looked at her with surprise. “Why, Angie, I’ve never heard you talk about any man like that.”

      The waitress shrugged one shoulder. “Well, after Jubal left me to marry the rich girl in town, I thought I’d hate the male race forever. But a woman can’t help but be attracted when the right man strolls by.”

      Shaking her head, Juliet leaned forward so that only Angie could pick up her words. “Look, I’ve never met Jubal, but I have an inkling he would have never married the rich girl if he’d known you were pregnant with his child. Dear God, I’ll never understand why you didn’t tell him.”

      Angie’s frown was a picture of disbelief. “I didn’t want him that way! I’ve told you that before!”

      “Yes. But still, he ought to know he has a three-year-old daughter.”

      Wiping a dishcloth at an invisible spot on the counter, Angie mumbled, “Maybe someday I’ll tell him.” She looked up at Juliet. “You want anything else? I gotta go warm up the Reynolds’ coffee. The old man’s looking this way.”

      “I’m fine. I’ve got to finish this anyway and get back to work. Gilbert’s mad at me enough without adding fuel to the fire.”

      The waitress went to tend to her other customers and Juliet hurriedly swallowed the last of her salad. While she ate, she scolded herself for giving Angie unwanted advice about Jubal. Juliet was the last person to be giving anyone advice about their love life. Since her days in college, she’d picked some real losers. And the thing that made her choices even worse was that she hadn’t realized they were losers until her heart had

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