certificate and might open a clinic,
or I might go back to work at a school.”
“So you’re a counselor? You give advice?” Lillie Mae repeated.
“Yes.”
“Then why the hell are you here talkin’ to an old lady you don’t know? Shame on you,
girl. You gotta make your own mind up about this job Rafael’s offering.”
Derision crept into Esme’s voice. “Job? What do you suppose the qualifications for
a job as a ‘temporary wife’ are?”
Lillie Mae leaned back a little in her chair and narrowed her eyes, then straightened
again. “Hey, Freddie!” she called at the woman behind the bar. “Bring me a water and
… what would you like, Esmeralda?”
Esmeralda hesitated. She seldom drank so early in the day and she really did want
time to ride. But a tiny part of her didn’t want to give Lillie Mae reason to think
she didn’t make her own rules. “Got screwdrivers?” she called past Lillie Mae, not
letting the older woman order it for her, and got an affirmative nod from the woman
behind the bar.
Freddie hustled over with their drinks and Esme smiled at her energy. “Bet you can
hold your own when the place is open.”
Freddie laughed. “Well, I don’t usually tend the bar, just haul drinks. But when I’m
alone … old habits die hard, I guess. I’ve always worked as a waitress of one kind
or other.”
Freddie left them and went back to dusting and arranging barware and bottles, and
Esme downed a large portion of the drink and turned her attention to Lillie Mae again.
“So, you were telling me I should make up my mind about Rafael’s ‘job?’ What are the
chances he’ll walk in any minute, Lillie Mae?”
The older woman just stared at her for a moment, then snorted, a sound between insult
and laughter. “You got some woman
cajones
,” she noted. “No one in town would’ve asked me that if they’d only known me a couple
minutes.” She reached over and patted Esme’s hand, her fringe tickling again. “And
that’s fine, if you’re showin’ ’em for the right reason. I’m no enemy, girl. Just
someone drawn into a predicament and wantin’ to help.”
Esme considered the words, then shrugged. “What kind of predicament could make a decent
man propose marriage—temporary marriage—to a complete stranger?”
Lillie Mae’s eyebrows shot up. “He proposed? So quick?”
So the old lady knew more than she was admitting?
No point in getting her dander up if she could get her to talk, though. “He didn’t
exactly propose,” Esme admitted neutrally. “He told me he needed to hire someone,
that he didn’t like my aunt, and that I was the only person he’d approached.”
Lillie Mae nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t say anything. She fished in her pockets
and drew out a bright red cell phone, checking her messages, then placed the device
on the table. “I still bring ol’ Babe into town out of habit,” she confided, “but
these modern contraptions sure do beat the old ones to heck.” She picked up the phone
and waved it at Esme. “’Specially this. But there’s one thing that’s even faster than
this in a town like Truth—”
“Gossip?” Esme suggested, remembering Rose Creek, and even her teen years in Laredo,
which wasn’t really a small town.
“You got it. And see, that’s what Rafael’s up against—waggin’ tongues. He confided
in you, and if you won’t listen and see what he says, I hope you at least don’t talk.”
“You seem to be defending him.”
“He’s got a name in this town. But he didn’t earn it—at least, he don’t deserve it.”
Her fingers drummed an irregular beat on the table. “How’d you hear about it? He look
you up?”
“My aunt asked me to talk to him—set up the interview, I guess. She didn’t give me
a clue what kind of job I was applying for.”
Something changed in Lillie Mae’s face, almost imperceptibly.
“You don’t like my aunt,