“I’m sorry, Clay, you prefer a mug, don’t you?” The cup seemed frail and tiny, impractical, cradled in his strong hand.
“It doesn’t matter. If I’m going to be drinking Swiss mocha coffee, I might as well do it from a china cup.” He smiled into her eyes, and Rorie couldn’t help reciprocating.
“Eaten any seafood fettuccine lately?” she teased.
“Can’t say I have.”
“It’s my favorite dinner,” Dan inserted, apparently feeling left out of the conversation. “We had linguini tonight, but Rorie’s favorite is sushi.”
Her eye caught Clay’s and she saw that the corner of his mouth quirked with barely restrained humor. She could just imagine what the people of Nightingale would think of a sushi bar. Skip would probably turn up his nose, insisting that the small pieces of seaweed and raw fish looked like bait.
The coffee seemed to command everyone’s attention for the next minute or so.
“I’m still reeling from the news of your adventures on this stud farm,” Dan commented, laughing lightly. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when you said you’d helped deliver a foal. I would never have believed it of you, Rorie.”
“I brought a picture of Nightsong,” Clay said, cautiously putting down his coffee cup. He unsnapped the pocket of his wide-yoked shirt and withdrew two color photographs, which he handed to Rorie. “I meant to show these to you earlier…but I got sidetracked.”
“Oh, Clay,” she breathed, studying the filly with her gleaming chestnut coat. “She’s grown so much in just the past month,” she said, her voice full of wonder.
“I thought you’d be impressed.”
Reluctantly Rorie shared the pictures with Dan, who barely glanced at them before giving them back to Clay.
“Most men carry around pictures of their wife and kids,” Dan stated, his eyes darting to Clay and then Rorie.
Rorie supposed this comment was Dan’s less-than-subtle attempt to find out if Clay was married. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Clay’s engaged to a neighbor—Kate Logan.”
“I see.” Apparently he did, because he set aside his coffee cup, and got up to stand behind Rorie. Hands resting on her shoulders, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over her cheek. “Rorie and I have been talking about getting married ourselves, haven’t we, darling?”
Fifteen
No emotion revealed itself on Clay’s face, but Rorie could sense the tight rein he kept on himself. Dan’s words had dismayed him.
“Is that true, Rorie?” he said after a moment.
Dan’s fingers tightened almost painfully on her shoulders. “Just tonight we were talking about getting married. Tell him, darling.”
Her eyes refused to leave Clay’s. She had been talking to Dan about marriage, although she had no intention of accepting his offer. Dan knew where he stood, knew she was in love with another man. But nothing would be accomplished by telling Clay that she’d always love him, especially since he was marrying Kate in a few weeks. “Yes, Dan has proposed.”
“I’m crazy about Rorie and have been for months,” Dan announced, squarely facing his competition. He spoke for a few more minutes, outlining his goals. Within another ten years, he planned to be financially secure and hoped to retire.
“Dan’s got a bright future,” Rorie echoed.
“I see.” Clay replaced his coffee cup on the tray, then glanced at his watch and rose to his feet. “I suppose I should head back to the Cow Palace.”
“How…how are you doing in the show?” Rorie asked, distraught, not wanting him to leave. Kate would have him the rest of their lives; surely a few more minutes with him wouldn’t matter. “Kate wrote that you were going after several championships.”
“I’m doing exactly as I expected.” The words were clipped, as though he was impatient to get away.
Rorie knew she couldn’t keep him any longer. Clay’s face was stern with purpose—and resignation. “I’ll see you out,” she told him.
“I’ll come with you,” Dan said.
She whirled around and glared at him. “No, you won’t.”
“Good to see you again, Rorie,” Clay said, standing just inside her apartment, his hand on the door. His mouth was hard and flat and he held himself rigid, eyes avoiding hers. He stepped forward and shook Dan’s hand.
“It was a pleasure,” Dan said in a tone that conveyed exactly the opposite.