Chapter Nine

Jon soon found himself alone, as Deke followed his mistress when she led Drummer away toward the corral. Taking him inside, she pulled off the simple bridle then slid home the pole that served as a gate before taking the bridle to the barn. Rousing himself as he realised he was gazing in the direction she’d gone, Jon glanced around, seeing what looked like a garage. He flipped up the kickstand and wheeled the Harley across, finding the door wide open and plenty of space for his bike next to a battered but somehow well-loved-looking pickup.

He set the kickstand again then unhooked his saddlebag, heading back out into the evening. It was almost dark now, and he only dimly saw Billie walking toward him.

“I thought you’d run off.” She joked, and he shrugged, raising the saddlebag.

“I put my bike in your garage. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” Billie eyed the black saddlebag. “Traveling light, huh?”

“Yep. Anyway, I have spare jeans and a credit card or two - what more does a man need?”

“Oh, I don’t know…..” The twinkle in her eyes made Jon wonder what was coming next. “How ‘bout a steak and a beer?”

“That sounds like heaven.” Jon grinned. “A guy can get awfully tired of diner food.”

“I’ll bet. Come on in, then. I’ll show you where everything is then fix some dinner.” She gestured around. “If you want, I can show you out here tomorrow, when it’s light.”

“That’d be cool.”

Smiling, Billie led him up the couple of steps onto the porch, then opened the door and stepped inside. As she heard him step over the threshold, it suddenly struck her that he was the first person to enter her home in a long time. And certainly the first man since……. She stopped the thought right there. Some memories were best left to the past.

“Just dump your stuff wherever.” She said, stopping to pull off her dusty boots, touched by Jon’s manners as she saw him do the same.

Both now barefoot, she continued the tour deeper into the house.

“Living room - in case you hadn’t guessed.” She grinned, still moving. “Kitchen here, and back there, on the left, is the bathroom.”

“Nice place.” Jon said, meaning it. The house wasn’t enormous, but there was plenty of space for a good-sized family, let alone one slender girl and her dog.

All on one level, it was typically ranch-house, with an abundance of wooden furniture and brightly colored cushions and throws, mismatched in a gloriously perfect whole. Billie went into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a pair of steaks. She grabbed a couple of beers with the other hand, opening them and handing one to Jon, who took it with a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Billie.” He took a long, refreshing drink. “Would it be okay if……..could I use your shower?”

“Of course! Here….” She led the way to where she’d indicated the bathroom.

Pushing open the door, she flipped on the light. The bathroom was huge, even in comparison to the rest of the house, and it betrayed a much more girly side to Billie than Jon had seen so far. The room was dominated by a massive bathtub, old-fashioned claw feet resting on the wooden floor. Over the bath there was a copper shower head that was easily the size of the average hubcap, and each of the walls had a long shelf lined with candles. In the time it took Jon to see all of that, Billie had crossed to a closet, opening the door and just waving a hand at the contents.

“Towels and stuff in there.” She headed for the door. “Make yourself at home.” A slight hesitation. “I do mean that. I’m not used to company, so my hostess skills may be rusty, but please do make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” Jon said sincerely, smiling at her. As she began to close the door, he stopped her with a soft voice. “For the record, Billie - there’s not a damned thing wrong with your - uh - hostess skills - and I really appreciate you letting me crash here.”

“You’re welcome.” She giggled as she finally did close the door. “But don’t speak too soon - you ain’t tried my cooking yet!”

Laughing with her, Jon watched her close the door, then after a moment he turned his attention to the shower. Part of him would have loved to just fill that huge, deep tub with scalding water and lie there until the dust and grime finally soaked from his pores, but it wasn’t exactly polite. Besides which, his stomach was telling him to hurry the hell up and get to that steak. He grabbed a towel from the closet, then went back to the side of the tub, pulling off his dusty jeans and barely-there tank, dropping them to the floor and climbing into the tub.

The shower gushed a wonderfully powerful spray of hot water over his body, the temperature already set just how he liked his shower - somewhere between scalding and lobster-cooking. Something he and Billie had in common, then. He ran a fine line between showering as long as he wanted to and how long a polite guest should, stepping out feeling like a new man.

He pulled on his clean jeans and the one fresh t-shirt he had left, reveling in the feel of clean denim and cotton against his now-clean skin. Rubbing his hair until it stopped dripping, he padded barefoot through to the kitchen, the aroma of frying steak and potatoes assaulting his nostrils and bringing a grin to his face.

“You’ve no idea how much I needed that!” He said, and Billie smiled back at him, sucking grease from her fingers.

“I can imagine. I know how I feel if I’ve been out on Drum all day. More beer?”

“You’re an angel.” He raised a hand as she moved. “I can get it. You want one?”

“Uh-huh.”

It was a surreally domestic scene, she thought. Two complete strangers acting like friends - or room-mates - or…….. Again, she threw the brake on her wayward thoughts, concentrating on her cooking instead.

A few minutes later, she loaded two plates with steak, potatoes and fried onions. Jon took the one she handed to him, and they sat at the kitchen table to eat. The next ten minutes or so passed in silence, as they applied themselves diligently to the meal - Billie hungry from being out on horseback all afternoon, Jon starved for home cooked food - then as they both finished at almost the same time, Jon gave a soft, satiated groan.

“Damn, but that was good, Billie.”

“Thanks.” She forked up a final shred of steak.

“Must be something wrong with the men around here.” Jon opined suddenly, not even sure why he was saying it. “Cute, funny, and you can cook like an angel……why hasn’t anyone snapped you up?”

Billie looked at him sharply, and for a fleeting moment Jon wondered if his mouth had just cost him his bed - couch - for the night, but when she spoke Billie’s voice was just sad.

“There was a man…….” She shrugged off the melancholy before it could overwhelm her again. “But it’s a long, sad story. D’you want more beer? Or coffee?” She paused. “Or whisky?”

“Coffee. And whisky.” Jon said, then gave her that charming, disarming, devastating grin he was famed for. “Coffee and whisky, and you can tell me your long, sad story. Then I’ll tell you mine. Deal?”

Billie stared, but a smile dimpled her cheeks at his cocky attitude.
“Deal.”