Free San Antonio Rose by Fran Baker Page B

charge.
    Jeannie didn’t get a chance to pursue that because, just as she stepped outside, she stumbled over a small crack in the concrete sidewalk. Rafe caught her, the tapered strength of his fingers encircling her arm and stirring embers that were better left banked.
    “My knight in shining armor,” she said with a smile.
    “Surely you
joust
,” he returned as he released her.
    They shared a laugh and started walking in the direction of his office. But that brief contact left a residue of awareness that she tried to put from her mind as diligently as she tried to match his stride.
    The delicate scent of roses wafting from a flower garden in front of a modest but well-maintainedhome had stiff competition from the pungent aroma of
yerba buena
—dried mint leaves—coming from someone else’s open kitchen window.
    “Do you live around here?” she asked as they turned the corner and approached his office.
    He stopped and pointed skyward. “When I bought the building, I gutted it and converted the second floor into a loft.”
    “You live over the office?” She looked up and, sure enough, saw wooden blinds at the windows.
    As she preceded him into the anteroom, he gave her golden plume of hair, cascading from that plastic clip, a playful tug. “Wanna go up and see my collection of empties?”
    She whipped her head around, the laughing reply “Don’t you mean etchings?” burbling to her lips. But the comeback perished in her throat under his penetrating stare.
    The secretary had gone to lunch in their absence, so they had the office to themselves. Their eyes connected in the air-conditioned stillness, and they both remembered vividly what good use they would have made of time alone in years gone by.
    But that was then and this was now. He had a preliminary hearing this afternoon, and she had to pick their son up from school in a couple of hours.
    “It’s getting late,” she noted nervously.
    He shot his cuff back and glanced down at his watch, his dark hair gleaming in the sunlight that found its way through the leafy green fronds draping the window. “It’s twelve thirty.”
    “When do you have to be in court?”
    “The hearing starts in thirty minutes.”
    She figured it would take him a good fifteen minutes to get there, given the noon-hour traffic rush and the never-ending street repairs, and another five to find a parking place.
    “We can talk on the phone tonight, after Tony goes to bed,” she offered since he was in a hurry.
    “We’ll talk after court,” he decreed before disappearing into his office.
    It took a second for that to sink in. When the full impact of his statement finally registered, she swore under her breath and bolted after him.
    “What do you mean,
after
court?” she demanded, positioning herself in front of his desk and bracing both fists upon her hips.
    “I mean you’re going with me.” He placed the empty beer bottle in his burnished leather briefcase.
    “But I—”
    “The hearing shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
    “An hour!”
    He shrugged. “Two at the most.”
    “I have to pick up Tony at three.”
    “Can’t Rusty do that?”
    “He’s riding herd today.”
    “What about Martha?”
    Jeannie’s mouth turned downward in an attractive sulk. “Tony’s expecting me.”
    “Tony’s had you to himself for ten years.” Rafe’s entreating blue eyes only added to his appeal. “All I’m asking you for is one afternoon.”
    “Oh, all right.” She feigned an irritated sigh, but actually her heart was pounding with anticipation at the idea of seeing him in action. Besides, she was dying to know what he was going to do with that bottle. “I’ll have to call the ranch, though.”
    “You can use my phone.” He picked up his briefcase and headed for the door.
    “Shakespeare was right,” Jeannie grumbled good-naturedly as she dialed the Circle C.
    “But if we killed off all the lawyers,” Rafe countered in that same vein, “who would run for political