The Strawberry Hearts Diner(5)

“Hey, w-we’ll take that stuff to the shed for you,” Shane offered.

Vicky removed a key from a ring in her pocket and handed it to him. “Thanks a bunch. Sweet tea is on the house.”

“And a tart?” Shane’s shy grin hadn’t changed a bit since she’d left. He’d always been a big guy, but good Lord, his arms were so huge now that they stretched the knit of his T-shirt and his broad chest looked to cover about two acres. His round face had developed a few angles, but they hadn’t interfered with the dimples.

“You got it,” Vicky said. “We’ll go on inside and get you set up.”

“Thanks, Vicky.” Shane picked up three duffel bags, leaving a smaller one and the suitcase for Ryder.

The moment Jancy and Vicky got inside, Nettie stuck her head out the swinging doors and motioned for Jancy to come back there. “You can eat back here and clean up a little bit in the bathroom before you go to work.”

“I’d better make a trip through there first and wash my hands,” Jancy said.

“Use the sink right there.” Nettie pointed at the deep stainless steel sink. “Your food will get cold.”

Jancy did a quick washup and pulled up a bar stool. Bacon, eggs, gravy, and biscuits with a plate of pancakes to the side. She set about eating without even looking up, not even when she heard Shane’s voice in the dining room. The deep Texas drawl hadn’t changed a bit.

A phone rang, and in a moment Shane raised his voice. “Hey, Vicky. W-we’ll be back real soon for that tea and tart, but right now there’s a grass fire down south of town w-we got to take care of quick. See you in a few m-minutes.”

Vicky stuck her head out the serving window. “See you later, then.”

Jancy polished off her breakfast, downed the coffee, and went straight to the ladies’ room out at the far end of the diner. A moan escaped her at her reflection in the mirror. Her shoulder-length hair was stringy, and she could see bags under her eyes. She’d washed up the night before in a rest stop bathroom, and although clean, her jeans and shirt left no doubt that she’d slept in them. It was a wonder Nettie hadn’t told her to get out there on the road with her thumb out rather than hiring her.

She adjusted the temperature of the water and bent under the faucet, filled her hand with soap from the dispenser, and quickly shampooed her hair. After she’d rinsed it and dried it on paper towels, she pulled a brush from her purse to get the tangles out and then flipped it up into a ponytail. She brought out a makeup kit and smeared concealer under her eyes, working fast to make herself presentable.

“Best I can do. I’ll never be an Emily, but at least I don’t look like the homeless orphan that I am.” She opened the door, got an approving nod from Vicky, and went back to the kitchen. Tying an apron around her waist, she pushed through the swinging doors just as Shane and Ryder reentered the diner. Why couldn’t Shane have gained sixty pounds and started dipping snuff? With a sigh, she picked up an order pad from a stack on a shelf under the cash register and slipped it into one pocket and a pen in the other.

“Iced tea and tarts, right?” Jancy set a dome to the side and eased a heart-shaped tart onto each of two small plates, filled two of the largest glasses with ice and sweet tea, and put it all on a tray.

Shane nodded. “Here comes W-Woody. Do you remember him, Jancy?”

“Of course. He and Irma were friends with my grandmother,” she said.

“Irma’s been dead two years now.” Shane slid a long look from Jancy’s toes to her ponytail.

It had been six years since that infatuation, but not to her suddenly sweaty palms. She had to concentrate on walking or she would have dropped the tray.

“You are late,” Nettie called from the kitchen when Woody pushed through the doors, bringing in a rush of hot air behind him.

“Had to go up to the church to help them with some plumbing,” Woody said. “I’m starving. Give me your biggest breakfast, the one with pancakes on the side, and a cup of coffee. Who owns that car out there? Looks like it ain’t good for nothing but the junkyard now.”

Woody, a tall, rail-thin guy who looked like he needed rocks in his pockets to keep from blowing away when the north wind cut through the rolling hills of Anderson County, eyed her up and down twice before he took a booth behind Ryder and Shane. “You the new waitress here?”

“I am,” Jancy said. “Cream or sugar?”

Woody removed his Texas A&M cap and raked his fingers through his thick gray hair. “You look familiar.”

“This is Jancy W-Wilson. Her grandma was Lucy, and her mama was Elaine,” Shane piped up from the booth next to where Woody took a seat.