she was with. Only once in all this time had she mailed him a postcard. Itâd come from someplace in California in the middle of winter, when the wind-chill factor lowered temperatures in Buffalo Valley to Arctic levels. Heâd been shivering his ass off and sheâd been getting a tan on a California beach.
Locking the door, Buffalo Bob shut down the restaurant and bar for the night. No need to sit in an empty room, cranky and depressed, when he could do the same thing in front of his television.
Heâd just started up the stairs when he heard the phone. He paused, his foot on the bottom step, half-tempted to let it ring. But he didnât get many calls, and curiosity got the better of him.
âYeah?â he barked into the phone.
âHey, is that any way to greet your one and only Buffalo Gal?â
â Merrily? Where the hell are you?â
âSame place as always.â
âWhat the hell are you doing there when you should be here?â He knew she didnât like it when he made demands, but he couldnât stop himself. âWhenâre you coming back?â
âMiss me, do you?â
She didnât know the half of it. âYou could say that,â he said, playing it low-key.
Her laugh was quiet and sexy. Just hearing it sent shivers racing down his spine. It hurt his pride to let her know what a sorry excuse for a man he was without her. But, dammit, she meant more to him than even his pride.
âIâve been thinking about you,â she whispered, as if it was a concession for her to admit that much.
âYou coming back or not?â
âIâve been considering it.â She laughed again and he could imagine the look on her faceâher teasing smile, her eyes wide open, eyebrows raised.
âWhen will you get here? Iâll put out the welcome mat.â Despite everything, he couldnât keep the eagerness from his voice.
âI canât say,â she murmured.
âYou need help?â
âWhat kind of help?â
âI could send you money.â Buffalo Bob realized the minute he said the words that heâd made a mistake. Like him, Merrily had an abundance of pride, and heâd already stepped on it once, earlier in their relationship, by offering her a loan. In fact, sheâd come to him that day, wanting to help him without stepping on his pride. Her generosity had touched his heart and it was then that heâd recognized something profound. He loved her.
Buffalo Bob wasnât a man who loved easily. Over the years heâd had plenty of women, and sex had always been available. He hadnât been looking for emotional engagements. Women passed in and out of his life; he barely noticed. Merrily was different, had always been different.
âI donât need your money,â she said curtly.
âOkay, okay. But if you ever doââ
âI gotta go.â
âMerrily,â he shouted, stopping her, âdonât hang up!â
âWhat?â she snapped.
âYou didnât say where you were.â
âSo what?â She sounded bored.
âWhatâs the weather like?â It was a silly question and without purpose, other than keeping her on the line.
âI donât know. Gotta go outside and look.â
âIt was over eighty here last Tuesday.â
âIn Buffalo Valley?â Her voice was skeptical. âI thought youâd have had your first snowfall by now.â
âWe could get snow this month, but more likely itâll come in November.â He grimaced; he was beginning to sound like a television weatherman.
âGotta go,â Merrily insisted.
âCall me again, all right?â He tried not to plead.
âIâ¦I donât know if I can.â
âWhy not?â he demanded. A hundred scenarios raced through his mind and he didnât like any of them. âYouâre with someone else, arenât you?â
âYou donât