“Clay Franklin, this is Dan Rogers. Dan is the stockbroker I… I mentioned before. It was his sports car I was driving.”
Clay nodded. “I remember now.” His gaze slid away from Rorie to the man at her side.
Dan stepped around Rorie and accepted Clay’s hand. She noticed that when Dan dropped his arm to his side, he flexed his fingers a couple of times, as though to restore the circulation. Rorie smiled to herself. Clay’s handshake was the solid one of a man accustomed to working with his hands. When Dan shook hands, it was little more than a polite business greeting, an archaic but necessary exchange.
“Clay and his brother, Skip, were the family who helped me when the MG broke down,” Rorie explained to Dan.
“Ah, yes, I remember your saying something about that now.”
“I was about to make a pot of coffee,” Rorie went on, unable to take her eyes off Clay. She drank in the sight of him, painfully noting the crow’s-feet that fanned out from the corners of his eyes. She couldn’t remember their being quite so pronounced before.
“Yes, by all means join us.” Dan’s invitation lacked any real welcome.
Clay said nothing. He just stood there looking at her. Almost no emotion showed in his face, but she could feel the battle that raged inside him. He loved her still, and everything about him told her that.
“Please join us,” she whispered.
Any lingering hope that Dan would take the hint and make his excuses faded as he slipped his arm protectively around Rorie’s shoulders. “I picked up some Swiss mocha coffee beans earlier,” he said, “and Rorie was going to make a pot of that.”
“Swiss mocha coffee?” Clay repeated, blinking quizzically.
“Decaffeinated, naturally,” Dan hurried to add.
Clay arched his brows expressively, as if to say that made all the difference in the world.
With Dan glued to her side, Rorie reluctantly led the way into her building. “Have you been here long?” she asked Clay while they stood waiting for the elevator.
“About an hour.”
“Oh, Clay…” Rorie felt terrible, although it wasn’t her fault; she hadn’t known he intended to stop by. Perhaps he hadn’t known himself and had been lured to her apartment the same way she’d been contemplating the horse show.
“You should have phoned.” Dan’s comment was casual, but it contained a hint of accusation. “But then, I suppose, you folks tend to drop in on each other all the time. Things are more casual in the country, aren’t they?”
Rorie sent Dan a furious glare. He returned her look blankly, as if to say he had no idea what could have angered her. Rorie was grateful that the elevator arrived just then.
Clay didn’t comment on Dan’s observation and the three stepped inside, facing the doors as they slowly closed.
“When you weren’t home, I asked the neighbors if they knew where you’d gone,” Clay said.
“The neighbors?” Dan echoed, making no effort to disguise his astonishment.
“What did they tell you?” Rorie asked.
Clay smiled briefly, then sobered when he glanced at Dan. “They said they didn’t know who lived next door, never mind where you’d gone.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised they answered the door at all,” Dan said conversationally. “There’s a big difference between what goes on in small towns and big cities.”
Dan spoke like a teacher to a grade-school pupil. Rorie wanted to kick him, but reacting in anger would only increase the embarrassment. She marveled at Clay’s tolerance.
“Things are done differently here,” Dan continued. “Few people have anything to do with their neighbors. People prefer to mind their own business. Getting involved leads to problems.”
Clay rubbed the side of his face. “It seems to me not getting involved would lead to even bigger problems.”
“I’m grateful Clay and Skip were there when your car broke down,” Rorie said to Dan, hoping to put an end to this tiresome discussion. “Otherwise I don’t know what would have happened. I could still be on that road waiting for someone to stop and help me,” she said, forcing the joke.
“Yes,” Dan admitted, clearing his throat. “I suppose I should thank you for assisting Rorie.”
“And I suppose I should accept your thanks,” Clay returned.
“How’s Mary?” Rorie asked, quickly changing the subject as the elevator slid to a stop at her floor.
Humor sparked in Clay’s gray eyes. “Mary’s strutting around proud as a peacock ever since she won a blue ribbon at the county fair.”