Her Cowboy Distraction(3)

Courtney had been taken in by Mary when at twenty-four years old she'd  found herself pregnant and alone and disowned by her parents. She never  spoke about the father of her little boy, but Lizzy knew he wasn't part  of Courtney's life and didn't contribute to her financially.

"My feet and my back are killing me," Candy said plaintively as they  walked. It was a complaint she voiced every night. In the brief time  Lizzy had known her, she'd realized Candy complained about everything.  "I wish I could afford a massage, but on the tips I make here I'll never  be able to afford anything."

"Actually, my tips are always pretty good," Lizzy replied, wishing she  had the nerve to tell Candy that a positive attitude was a good thing to  possess in life.

"I just want to go pick up Garrett from the babysitter and then get a  good night's sleep," Courtney said. "I'm off tomorrow, so I'll be able  to spend the whole day with my baby boy." Courtney's face shone with her  love for her son.                       
       
           



       

"Yuck. No offense, but I can't think of a worse way to spend a day off,"  Candy exclaimed. "I don't want to think about babies for a long time."

"Are you planning anything special with little Garrett?" Lizzy asked.

"No, just a day of Mommy and Garrett time," Courtney replied. "He'll be happy if I give him an empty box to play with."

Candy released a dramatic sigh. "I'm just hoping Kevin wants to do  something fun tomorrow besides hang out with his friends, drink and  argue." She sighed again. "That's all we seem to be doing lately when  we're together."

By this time the three had reached the point where they each went their  separate ways. "Good night, ladies. Enjoy your day off and think about  me while you're both having fun." Lizzy gave a small wave to the two of  them and then headed to the door of her cabin.

Inside, a small lamp illuminated the area around the sofa sleeper that  was already pulled out to make a bed. Lizzy never left to go to work in  the afternoon without leaving a light on to greet her when she returned.

If you counted the bathroom, the cabins were two rooms, with the sofa  bed providing the sleeping area, and a kitchenette that was little more  than a sink, a small fridge and a microwave.

The rent Mary charged on these small units was next to nothing when she  rented them to the waitresses who worked at the restaurant.

Lizzy went directly into the tiny bathroom and stripped off the jeans  and Cowboy Café T-shirt that was the uniform for the waitresses. She  tossed the clothes in a hamper and then stepped into the shower, wanting  the feel of grease and grime of work off her skin before getting into  bed.

The minute she stepped beneath the warm spray of water her mind filled  with a vision of him. Daniel Jefferson. He definitely wasn't a Danny,  not with those stone-hard features and dark gray eyes. The name Danny  implied somebody fun-loving and happy. There had been nothing happy  about Daniel.

The couple of bites of peach pie she'd eaten had been sweet and  delicious going down, but they had become tart and terrible when Mary  had told her Daniel's story. She'd eaten the pie he'd apparently meant  as some sort of tribute to his dead wife. Jeez, could she have done  anything worse?

Although the last thing Lizzy was looking for in her life was love, she  couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be loved that deeply.

She threw her head beneath the warm spray of water, hoping it would wash  away some of her feelings of guilt and any other thoughts of Daniel  Jefferson.

* * *

Mary Mathis awoke suddenly, her heart pounding violently. Couldn't  breathe. Her lungs squeezed tight and ached with the need to draw air.  She sat up and managed a gasp.

You're safe. Nobody can harm you. Just breathe. The rational little  whisper in the back of her brain slowly calmed her. Just breathe.

Her heartbeat finally slowed to a more normal pace and she sat for several moments and drew in deep breaths to steady herself.

From the faint illumination of the night-light plugged into the wall  next to the bed she could see that nothing was amiss in the small room,  that all was as it had been when she'd gone to sleep.

There were no strange noises, nothing to be afraid of. She was safe  here, and the terror of whatever dream she'd suffered slowly fell away.

She knew from experience that any further sleep would be impossible for a  while. She never went directly back to sleep after one of these  awakening panic episodes.

Always the first thing she did after waking in the middle of the night  was get out of bed and walk across the living room to the bedroom where  her ten-year-old son slept.

She now stood in the doorway of the larger second bedroom, her heart  filled with love as she gazed at the towheaded boy who sprawled in the  bed as if frozen in the middle of motion.

That was Matt, always moving, always smiling. He was a happy boy who  loved his mother and loved this place they had called home for the past  eight years.

He was the glue that held her together on nights like this, when panic  swelled up inside her and unwanted terrible memories tumbled through her  mind.

He was such a good kid. He did well in school, had a kind heart and lots  of friends in this small town that had embraced them when they'd  arrived here.

She moved away from his door and went back into the living room. She  turned on one of the lamps next to the sofa and sank into its  overstuffed comfort.

The apartment consisting of two bedrooms, a living room and a large  bathroom was located in the back of the café. According to Violet Grady,  the old woman Mary had bought the place from, her father had had only  enough money to build one building, so he'd decided to put the café and  his living quarters all under one roof. The only thing that separated  the living space from the business was a locked door in the café  kitchen.                       
       
           



       

Mary loved the fact that when she was at work Matt was only a few steps  away at home. She could be a responsible business owner and a present  mother at the same time.

Who would have ever thought that at thirty-three years old she'd live in  a small town like Grady Gulch, own the Cowboy Café and be happy feeding  the townspeople and watching her son thrive and grow?

Sometimes it scared her when she looked back on the past eight years and  realized that for the most part fate had been responsible for her good  fortune and the place she was at in her life now. She'd worked as a  waitress for three years in the café before Violet had come to her with a  plan to help Mary buy the place. Violet had been like an angel sent to  Mary when Mary had lost all hope.

But, Mary never forgot where she'd come from, the horrible events that  had eventually led her to be here and now. She never forgot that in the  blink of fate's capricious eye it could all be destroyed.

That's what made her sometimes sit up in the middle of the night with  her heart pounding and in the grip of a panic attack, because she knew  her business, her happiness and her son could all be taken away from  her. And the worst part was that there were times when she believed that  might be what she deserved.





Chapter 2

Daniel stood on the back deck of his house, still half reeling with  shock at the waitress's actions in the café even though he'd left there  hours before.

It was as if he'd just been jerked awake from a lifetime nap and was  more than a little surprised to find himself still breathing.

He'd been in a fog and suddenly it had lifted and there was a strange  woman seated across from him, a woman with long brown hair with shiny  blond highlights, an impudent upturned nose and eyes the color of  whiskey. Her smile had been so wonderfully warm as she'd eaten the pie  he'd ordered for the wife he'd lost.

As always, thoughts of Janice brought with them a crushing guilt that  pressed so tightly against his chest it left him almost breathless.

For the first time in almost two years he consciously shoved away those  thoughts and instead brought a picture of the waitress from the café  into his mind.

Lizzy.

Elizabeth Wiles, but everyone called her Lizzy. She definitely wasn't  from Grady Gulch. He'd lived there all his life and knew practically  everyone in town. Besides, nobody who was a Grady Gulch native would  have had the gumption to do what she had done.

For the most part for the past eighteen months, everyone in town had  pretty much left him alone in his prolonged grief and guilt stupor.

He hadn't noticed her in the café before tonight, but that didn't mean  anything. Daniel had stopped looking at people, had stopped taking in  his surroundings when he left his ranch, since the day he'd buried  Janice.