Chapter Four
Rhett
I was surprised at how well Emily took my advice when I got to the diner to meet her the next day, just before lunch. Instead of wearing it in a bun, she’d pulled her blond hair back into a braid tucked it behind her head. And instead of a pantsuit, she was in a pair of jeans and a light, button-down shirt. If I hadn’t known better I almost would have thought she was from Mustang Ridge—I was pretty sure she wasn’t even wearing makeup.
“You look like a farm girl,” I said as I sat down at the booth with her.
She grinned at me, and her green eyes sparkled. “That’s what I was going for,” she said. “This is the stuff I normally wear to go hiking.”
“Not a bad choice,” I ducked my head under the table a bit and saw she was, in fact, wearing hiking boots. It was a good look all around, practical, and she wasn’t likely to get bitten by a snake if we went out in the sticks to look at stuff around the farm. Safe, comfortable, and easy to clean.
“What’s good here?” She looked at the menu and I thought about the question for a minute or two.
“Really the best thing here is the pie,” I replied. “But you’d probably want some actual food in your stomach first.”
“I’m not lunch-hungry yet,” she said.
“Well, then, the cherry pie is pretty great, but the best pie they make here is the lemon-meringue.”
“That’s exactly what I’ll have then,” she said, setting the menu down. I looked around the diner, noticing that a few people were taking note of me in the place with a stranger. Someone was bound to comment, but I figured it wasn’t that big of a deal.
Lucy, who’d been a waitress at Bill’s Diner since I was a teenager, came up to our table. “Look at you, Rhett—finally taking a girl out to eat,” she said.
Emily grinned.
I shook my head. “It’s not a date,” I said. “She’s looking to move to Mustang Ridge, so I offered to show her around town.”
“Well, whatever reason you have to be out with a girl on a nice day like this, I’m glad to see it,” Lucy said. “What’ll you two be having?”
“I’d like the lemon-meringue pie and a cup of coffee,” Emily said.
“I’ll get the same,” I added.
“Not a great lunch, but it’s not my place to judge,” Lucy said, scribbling down a quick note on her pad. Just as she turned to go put our order in, someone else was moving past us to leave the diner—Joe Hansen.
“Hey, Rhett,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt your date.”
“It isn’t a date,” I told Joe. He shrugged that information off.
“I just haven’t seen you since you helped with that fundraiser Madeline had,” Joe said. “Wanted to thank you.”
“It was nothing,” I said, shaking my head.
“You drove her over to the South County Mall and stood with her the whole day—that’s not nothing,” Joe insisted.
“I was free that day,” I told him with a smile. “It really wasn’t anything.”
“I won’t wreck your date arguing with you about it,” Joe said, nodding to me and then to Emily. I started to tell him that it wasn’t a date—again—but he turned away and headed for the door before I had the chance.
“I must have the right tour guide,” Emily said, even as I shook my head at how many times we’d been interrupted already. “You’re obviously pretty popular around here.”
“It’s a small town,” I pointed out.
“Apparently not so small that nothing’s ever happened here,” Emily said, pointing at the wall next to the cash register. A newspaper clipping was framed there, with an action photo of a football player making a catch. “Hometown Hero Makes It in the NFL. Huh—wow.”
“Yeah,” I said, wishing Lucy would hurry it up with the pie.
“It must have been great for him,” Emily mused. “I mean—no offense, I am sure the town is great and wonderful—but to grow up here, and then hit the big time, must have been like a dream.”
“More people do it than you think,” I pointed out. “I did it.”
“Why’d you come back, then?” Emily frowned in confusion.
“Family,” I said.
If she didn’t think much of the town—why was she moving here? Probably looking for some place she can get away from it all, some place to build a big house where it won’t cost as much, I thought.
There was a silence between us, but before it could really get uncomfortable, Lucy finally came back with our pie, a couple of coffee cups, a carafe, and a pitcher of half-and-half on her tray. “I just realized, Rhett—you tell your mother I’m thinking of her, and you,” she told me. “Ten years, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, just about,” I agreed. Lucy started putting the coffee and slices of pie down on the table and glanced at Emily.
“You know, you’re a lucky girl—sitting here with a town celebrity,” Lucy said.
“I can see he’s really popular,” Emily agreed.
I wished that Lucy would just let it slide, but of course she wouldn’t. “No, Rhett Baxter here is a real celebrity, not just the big man in town,” Lucy said. “Played football in the pros, made his dad—all of us, really—real proud.” She pointed to my jersey and the big newspaper cover-clipping that Emily had seen.
“That’s you?” Emily looked at me. Her face went pale and then red and then pale again.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I admitted.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Emily shook her head, and grinning, Lucy melted away from the table to go to take care of someone else.
“It’s not that big a deal,” I told her.
“It is! I’m sorry for what I said earlier—I didn’t realize it was you.”
“It’s not important,” I said, taking a bite of my pie.
“How long did you play?” Emily took a bite of her own slice of lemon-meringue and closed her eyes, making a sound like a moan of pleasure. “You were not wrong about this pie.”
“It’s the best pie they have,” I agreed.
“So? How long did you play?”
“I played for a year, until my father died,” I said. “Then I came back to town.” I didn’t feel much like talking anymore. “Let’s just finish our pie and get out of here, okay?”