Sweet Talk. Jackie Merritt

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      Smiling broadly, the housekeeper walked over and took the flowers from Val. “Oh, they’re lovely. Hello, Reed, how are you?”

      “Fine, Estelle, and you?”

      “I really can’t complain.”

      “And how’s Jim?”

      “Well, he has that arthritis, you know. It flares up every so often, but he’s been just fine this fall. Hasn’t this weather been remarkable?”

      “Remarkable and a little scary. We’ve experienced the result of a dry winter firsthand, and we sure don’t want a repeat of last summer’s fire.”

      “Heavens, no,” Estelle agreed with a small shudder. “We nearly lost our town.”

      “We came very close, Estelle.”

      Val had to bite her tongue to keep from rudely interrupting this friendly little exchange. Of course Estelle knew Reed Kingsley—everyone knew Reed Kingsley! She was probably the only person within a hundred-mile radius who didn’t want to know him!

      Estelle smiled and began easing away. “I’ll put these in water. Nice seeing you, Reed.”

      “Nice seeing you, Estelle.” He waited until she was back in the kitchen before he looked at Val again. “They’re a great couple, aren’t they?” he said. “I’m talking about Estelle and Jim, of course.”

      “I grasped that all on my own,” Val said dryly. “Imagine that.”

      Reed’s face reddened. “I never quite say the right thing to you, do I?” He tried to smile and knew it came off weak. “I think you make me nervous.”

      “I doubt if anyone makes you nervous, Mr. Kingsley.”

      “Mr. Kingsley? Can’t you bring yourself to call me Reed?”

      “Well, I can, of course, but since we hardly know each other…”

      “That’s not my fault.”

      “Meaning it’s mine? Well, fine. I can live with that.”

      “I wasn’t placing blame. But you said we hardly know each other and that’s something I’ve been trying to rectify. We’re not getting very far, though, are we, not when you object to using my first name because we’re not bosom buddies. Val, very few people around here stand on ceremony. There’s very little formality in and around Rumor.” Reed felt his face heating up again. “You already know that, don’t you? You’ve lived here long enough to know everything I do.”

      “I doubt if I could ever catch up with you on anything,” she said coolly, hoping he realized that the word anything, in this instance, was a blatant reference to his reputation with women. “Nor, I might add, do I care to try. But since small-town informality seems so crucial to you, I’ll use your first name.”

      How long was he going to stand around her foyer with that hopeful look in his eyes? She hadn’t invited him into the living room, offered him a chair or refreshments. She hadn’t done any of the things folks in Rumor did when someone dropped in. Reed didn’t take hints, obviously, and she was trying to avoid overt rudeness, but she was getting very close to it, all the same.

      He cleared his throat. “Getting back to that explanation I mentioned…”

      “Really, there’s nothing that needs saying. You thought I required rescuing and I didn’t. It was an unfortunate incident. I’m sure we’ll both live it down…eventually.” Reed’s expression turned sickly before her eyes, but she pretended not to notice.

      “You really can’t accept my apology, can you?” he said, sounding miserable.

      “I could lie and say yes. Would that appease your conscience?” Inwardly she winced, as that remark and question had definitely been rude. But why didn’t he accept her lack of interest and leave?

      Reed decided it was time to go. She was a hard, dispassionate woman, impossible to get to know. Why did he keep trying?

      “Well, enjoy the flowers,” he said, speaking in a much cooler tone himself. “And you have my promise that if I ever see you looking pale and leaning against shelves of green beans again, I’ll walk right on past.”

      Val’s eyes widened in surprise. That was the first thing he’d ever said to her that warranted respect. Apparently her disdain had finally sunk in.

      “I’ll hold you to that,” she said, and opened the door for him. He gave her one last look and then hurried out. She shut the door behind him, mumbled, “Finally,” and turned the dead bolt.

      The snap of the lock was heard by both of them. It gave Val a sense of security and made Reed wince. He walked to his SUV with his head down.

      Val went into the kitchen and tried to ignore the flowers Estelle was arranging in Val’s best crystal vase. “I’m going over to the clinic, Estelle,” she said.

      “Okay, honey.” The housekeeper stepped back to study her handiwork. “Aren’t these just beautiful?”

      “Lovely,” Val murmured, trying to sound as though she cared. “Estelle, I picked out a great prime rib at MonMart. Was it part of the delivery?” Her hand suddenly leaped to her lips. “Oh, hell,” she moaned. “Why didn’t I make that man tell me the cost of all that food? I never even thought of it.”

      “That man’s name is Reed Kingsley,” Estelle said dryly.

      “I know his name. But I wish I didn’t.”

      Estelle’s eyes widened. “For heaven’s sake, why not? Everyone likes Reed.”

      “Not everyone. Estelle, was that prime rib delivered?”

      “Yes, it’s in the refrigerator. I was going to ask if you wanted it in the freezer.”

      “I want it in the oven, if you don’t mind cooking it, that is. And I’d like you and Jim to stay for dinner and help me eat it.”

      “Well, that would be nice. When you see Jim, ask him if he has other plans. I don’t, but you never know what’s on his mind.”

      “And you don’t accept invitations without his say-so,” Val said quietly.

      Estelle smiled. “Of course not.”

      Val would never point out that Estelle often let Jim’s plans come before hers, because they were truly the happiest married couple she’d ever known, and it certainly wasn’t her place to point out what she considered to be a few small inequities in the relationship. She had wondered, since getting to know the Worths, how their marriage had survived for so long, when so many others did not. One thing she’d noticed repeatedly was that Estelle and Jim truly seemed to like each other. There were deeper affections between them—Val could sense that—but their liking was out in the open and pleasant to be around.

      “I’ll talk to Jim about it and let you know.”

      “Good.” Estelle returned to her flower arranging and picked up a perfect pink rose. СКАЧАТЬ