Hard-Headed Texan

Daniel paused inside the door and looked around the room. It was a typical lunchtime crowd; practically every table and most of the stools at the counter were full, and the air was vibrating with the noise of people talking. The Moonstone Café was a bit out of place in Angel Eye. It had been started three years ago by Jocelyn Kramer, a willowy woman with dark, wildly curling black hair, who had moved here from Dallas, seeking, according to the gossips, to get away from the big city. There were all sorts of rumors about why, ranging across everything from marital troubles to a nervous breakdown to some sort of New Age strangeness. But whatever had impelled her to come, she was a hell of a good cook, and her small restaurant had flourished.

For a moment it all seemed a blur of faces. Then Daniel spotted Antonia, sitting by herself in a booth in the back, a glass of iced tea and an open book in front of her. His stomach knotted. This was the moment of decision. He had to do it now. In another minute one of the waitresses would turn and see him and come lead him to a seat, and he knew that he would not have the nerve to tell her that he would rather sit with Antonia.

Swallowing hard, he started threading his way through the tables, nodding to people he knew. He stopped to talk to two of his father’s friends whom he knew would be offended if he didn’t. By the time he drew near Antonia’s table, she had looked up from her book and was watching him approach.

He had been rehearsing what he would say all the way across the room, but once he saw her eyes on him, all thoughts went straight out of his head. Daniel reached her table and stopped. His mouth went dry, and he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“Hi,” Antonia said after a moment. “How are you?”

Daniel was too busy with his own problems to notice that her voice had a slight tremor to it. Antonia, however, heard it and felt like slapping herself. Why did she always seem to turn to quivering jelly around this man?

She had spent a great deal more time than was wise the past two days thinking about Daniel Sutton and had even considered calling to ask about his mare and foal just to have a chance to talk to him. In other circumstances, she probably would have called to make sure that everything was going all right, but because it was him, she knew that the call would be as much excuse as concern. What if he saw through it? What if he assumed that she was calling because of that kiss?

So she had not called, but still she had found her mind wandering all too often to the subject of whether and how she would see him again. When she had looked up just now and seen him walking through the dining room, pausing to chat to various friends, her heart had slammed into overdrive. He seemed to be coming straight toward her, and that fact made it even more difficult to breathe. She was surprised that she was able to squeeze out a hello.

“Hi,” Daniel returned, jamming his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Nice to see you.”