“Sure.” Tina pulled out a napkin and quickly swiped her pen over it, drawing a few intersecting lines. “Head that way out of town.” She jerked her thumb to the left. “Be careful when you take the turnoff. The road is graded but it’s still gravel. Once you’re off the highway, you’ll see the ranch entrance. It’s huge. But you’ll know you’re on the right track.”
“Thanks.” Nell tucked the impromptu map in her binder and delved inside her purse for her wallet. “Mind wrapping up the sandwich for me, and adding a meat loaf sandwich, as well?”
In answer, Tina whisked away the plate and returned a few minutes later with the two sandwiches neatly packaged. She tucked them inside a paper bag that she handed to Nell. “I don’t know why you’re so anxious to see him, but good luck.”
“Thanks.” Leaving enough cash for the bill and tip on the counter for Tina, she gathered everything up and hurried toward the door.
From his spot in the corner, Nick caught her eye but she didn’t linger long enough to do more than return his smile with a quick one of her own.
Following Tina’s instructions proved simple enough and before long she was driving though the Double-C entrance, while a cloud of dust billowed behind her in her rearview mirror.
When she finally reached a circular drive that fronted a long, rambling house, the dust clung to every inch of her car. Even though she’d quickly closed her car windows, she felt as if she had dust clinging to every inch of her, too.
With the bag from the diner in hand, she left everything else in the car and approached the massive wooden door at the top of several shallow steps.
She was quickly realizing that the Double-C Ranch wasn’t just some regular old cattle ranch.
Not if the outbuildings she could see and the number of vehicles parked around them were any indication. They all bore the same brand that had been burned into the timbers of the ranch entrance.
She used the heavy iron knocker on the door because there didn’t seem to be a doorbell. But she eventually had to accept that nobody was coming to answer.
Chewing the inside of her lip, she went back down the steps and started off toward the buildings with all of the vehicles parked outside.
When she reached the first one, she found it to be an office of sorts, with three young women sitting at computers. None of them knew where Mr. Clay might be.
She didn’t want to admit defeat. But it was disappointing, even though she’d had no guarantee that he’d be at home.
She left the sandwiches with the girl named Melody, whose desk was closest to the open door of the office. “If you do see him, would you tell him this is from his seatmate Nell at the diner?”
“Sure.” Melody didn’t seem surprised by the request or anything else where Nell was concerned. She turned her attention back to her computer screen before Nell even turned to leave.
Rather than drive back into town, Nell went to Vivian’s place. She parked in the courtyard as usual, but instead of going through the side door there, she circled around to the backside of the house and entered through one of the patio doors where she’d be less likely to run into Montrose.
In that, at least, she was successful. She made it up the stairs in the atrium to the second floor and slipped into the small office she’d taken over not far from where Vivian’s was located.
Nell’s office didn’t look out over Rambling Mountain the way that Vivian’s did. In fact, she didn’t have any windows at all.
It was still nicer and more spacious than the cramped quarters she’d occupied at Pastore Legal and there was even an elegant little powder room right next door.
She propped her elbow on the fancy wooden table she was using as a desk and cupped her cheek. She needed to stop thinking about what had been and keep her focus on what was.
A fine idea if she could only manage to follow it consistently.
The phone ringing at her other elbow was a welcome distraction. She answered it with one hand while she pulled a pen from the crystal bowl she’d pressed into service to hold a dozen pens and pencils. She was a little concerned that it might be Lalique or Baccarat crystal, but assumed it wasn’t since it had been just sitting around in the conservatory—Vivian actually used that term for her plant-filled sunroom—holding a few cups of potting soil.
“Nell Brewster speaking,” she said briskly, then winced a little because that was the way she’d answered the phone at Pastore Legal. And if the caller was a client, she’d immediately begun timing the conversation. Billable hours and all that.
“Thank you for the sandwich.”
Squire Clay. Surprise made Nell sit up straighter. “You’re welcome.” So the sandwich actually had made its way to the man. Melody and her compatriots hadn’t seemed overly concerned that it would. “How, uh, how did you know to reach me here?”
“Small town,” he said as if that explained it all.
She spun her chair around to stare at the narrow span of wall behind her. There was nothing hanging on it. No artwork. No paintings. She might have repurposed the dirt bowl, but she didn’t have enough nerve to commandeer anything else.
She doubted Vivian would care, but Nell wasn’t so sure about Montrose. She had no desire to earn his wrath.
Archer’s kitchen and his squiggly-lined Soliere drifted through her mind.
She closed off that thought. “I’m sorry I missed you,” she told Squire. “But I’m glad the sandwich reached you. I hope it was good.”
“Ruby’s food always is. Question I’ve got is why you made that effort at all. Your
