he’d been too agitated, his mind a jumble of tangled thoughts after running into Lucy along the highway then dealing with a stubborn dog and a mulish Cal Durango.
“Problems at work?”
In his line of duty there were always problems. “No.” He watched his mother dish out the chicken pot pie she’d made for their once-a-week supper together. “I ran into Lucy Durango today.”
“Oh?”
“Maddie took off and Lucy was out searching for her.”
“Did you find the dog?” His mother set their plates on the table and sat down.
“Yeah.” He omitted the part where Maddie had waited for Lucy to leave before approaching Tony. His mother would insist the dog missed Tony and that he should visit Maddie once in a while—as if Lucy’s father would allow him near the dog, never mind his daughter.
“Mr. Bonner lost his cat last week—flattened by a semitruck.”
“Nice visual before we eat,” Tony said.
“Sorry. No more animal talk at the table.”
Tony would be lying if he didn’t admit that he missed Maddie and all the dog represented—a friendship with Michael that had begun with an I-dare-you game on a school playground and had evolved into a brotherly bond. Tony had lost a part of himself when his best friend died, and Maddie brought to the surface all the pain buried inside him.
“How did you do at the rodeo last weekend?” His mother’s brown eyes twinkled as they roamed over Tony. “You’re not sporting a cast or bandages.”
“I got thrown.” Tony was twenty-seven, but some days he felt like an old man. He used to be a decent bull rider before he’d begun working for the border patrol. Now he was lucky if he lasted eight seconds on the back of a bull in one out of ten rodeos. He should retire his spurs, but he was reluctant to give up those few hours a month when he could keep his memory of Michael alive.
“Any news on the transfer?” his mother asked.
“Not yet.” Six months ago, after two years of pretending he’d moved on from Michael’s death and his affair with Lucy, he’d finally admitted that he wouldn’t be able to put the past behind him until he left Stagecoach.
“The cost of living is much higher in California.”
His mother was not in favor of her only child leaving town. Tony would miss his mom, but San Diego wasn’t so far away that he couldn’t make a monthly trip to Stagecoach. “You could relocate to America’s Finest City with me.”
“I’m comfortable at my job, honey. I don’t want to start at the bottom of the waitress ladder.”
“I bet Juan would move with you.” His mother and the grill cook at the truck stop had been dating for several years but his mother wasn’t interested in tying the knot—her heart still belonged to Tony’s father.
“You haven’t said how Lucy’s doing.” His mother quirked an eyebrow.
“She’s fine.”
“Just fine?”
Actually, Lucy was more than fine. After two years of catching only glimpses of her from a distance, seeing her up close at the rodeo had stolen his breath. Her smile had reminded him that he’d lost more than his best friend because of a stupid lapse in judgment. He’d also lost the girl who’d captured his heart. Tony shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Lucy was at the rodeo last weekend.”
“Really?”
He had been more than a little surprised he’d bumped into her in the cowboy ready area. After Michael died, the Durangos quit attending rodeos, while Tony continued to ride, wanting to hold on to the one thing that had been a huge part of his friend’s life.
“I noticed the Pony Express van parked in front of Gilley’s Tap House the other night.”
Never in a million years had Tony believed Lucy would start up her own business in Stagecoach. No one talked about it—at least not out loud—but it didn’t take a genius to understand that the free taxi service was Lucy’s way of honoring her brother’s memory. The van served as a solemn reminder