He walked into the store and bought the shirt. It was the last one so they had to take it off the mannequin. They wrapped it for him in shiny red paper and slipped it down into an enormous plastic bag with the store logo on the front. He put his leather purchase bag and his jewelry store bracelet down in the bag with the package and tied a knot in the top. The two ring boxes were in his coat pocket.
* * *
Sage was on her way to the meeting point when someone ran up behind her and touched her on the shoulder. She whipped around and came face-to-face with Victor Landry.
“Sage Presley! It is you!”
“Hello, Victor. What in the world are you doing in Amarillo, Texas?”
“My folks moved here last year. I can’t believe after all this time that you are right here in front of me. I hear you are the next rising Western art star. I’ve got to be honest—when you left college, I didn’t expect much.”
She winced.
“Well, you did have commitment issues. I figured it was in all things, not just relationships, but I was wrong.” He ran a hand down her arm. “Let’s go to dinner and talk art.”
Dammit!
She hadn’t wanted to go to dinner with Victor when they were practically living in the same dorm room. She damn sure didn’t want to go to dinner with him that day.
“Hey.” Creed waved from ten feet away and quickly joined her.
“Creed, meet Victor Landry. Victor, this is Creed.”
Sage felt his eyes go to her left hand but it was holding so many bags that there was no way she could shove it into her pocket.
Creed shifted his bags to his left hand and stuck the right one out. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. You live around here, do you?”
“Victor and I were art students together at college,” she explained.
“I remember being quite a bit more than that,” he said. “And to answer your question, no, I live in New Orleans. It’s a wonderful place to feel the art.”
He was a tall, lanky, blond-haired man. He wore black dress slacks and shoes with tassels on the toes. A pale pink shirt collar showed from under a pink and gray argyle sweater and his watch was a very good Rolex knockoff.
“Well, it was good to see you, Victor. We’ve got to get home and do chores before dark. If you see any of our old crowd, tell them hello for me.” Sage’s voice was so high-pitched that it even sounded strange in her ears.
He stuck a hand between the V-neck sweater and the pink shirt and handed her a card. “Call me, darlin’. We really should get together and talk art.”
She pocketed the card. “Got to run. Come on, Creed. Cows have to be fed.”
She didn’t even look back to see if Creed was behind her but set a course out of the mall as fast as she could go.
“What was that all about?” Creed asked when they were inside the truck.
“It was about nothing. Victor and I had a six-month thing. He wanted more than I wanted to give. End of story. Now let’s go home.”
“Must be old flame week. I walked into the…into a store and there was my ex-fiancée working behind the counter. Her husband got transferred to this area and she’s teaching school down in Hereford.”
“What’s she doing working in the mall?” Sage asked coldly.
“Selling stuff while she’s not teaching, I guess,” he said.
Sage looked out the window and bit her lip to keep back the smart remarks that were on the tip of her tongue. She’d been in such a good mood when she went into the mall, but a demon had taken up residence on her shoulder when she came outside. The devil could go by any number of names: jealousy, anger, fear. But it was there, so she turned a cold shoulder to Creed and stared out the window.
He stopped at Home Depot and asked if she was getting out.
She shrugged so he went in and bought a roll of insulation without her.
He stopped at Walmart and she was out of the truck and practically jogging inside before he could put the vehicle in park. She bought the most expensive dog and cat food in the place and three of the biggest pots of poinsettias she could find. He loaded his cart with groceries, toilet paper, and laundry soap.
She helped unload the items when she got home, fed the dog and the cat, and went to her room. She slammed the door, picked up his flannel shirt, and threw it at the wall. The nightshirt she found in her dresser drawer was old and soft but it wasn’t as comfortable as Creed’s shirt.
Finally she threw herself across the bed and wept even though she didn’t know why she was angry or why she was crying.
* * *
Creed didn’t know what in the hell he’d done to make her mad. He’d been up front and told her about Macy. After all, he’d bought an engagement ring and matching wedding bands. If things worked out between them, he sure didn’t ever want it to come up that he’d actually bought the rings from his ex.
He turned on the Christmas tree lights, sunk down into the sofa, and picked up the remote control. He flipped through channels until he found reruns of NCIS.
“Understanding murder is simple compared to understanding a woman, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You been married a bunch of times. What advice would
