She bit her lip. “I didn’t really do anything. He came to and I held his hand and waited for the ambulance.”
There was something more, he could see it in her eyes.
“Anyway, they needed the help, and I know my way around a restaurant, so?—”
“Cause your dad’s a chef?”
“The owner of the diner where he worked back east made him manager,” she said. “He just wanted to cook, but the owner insisted he could do both. And he loved cooking there too much to give it up. It was short-order, but he’d created signature sandwiches and fancy sides the patrons loved. So I started helping him out and taking courses to learn what I didn’t know. Next thing I know, I’m the manager. Unpaid.”
“How old were you?”
“Mmm, I helped Dad run the diner all through my teens,” she said. “We didn’t have entertainment, just food, but—we did all sorts of special events, holiday themes, private parties, and promotions. Gosh, those were great times.”
Her eyes were sparkling. He hadn’t yet started the truck. He was kind of lost in learning new things about Lily Ellen Hyde. And when she talked about this particular thing, she lit up.
“I was thinking you could knock out the east wall. Build on an addition with a stage and dance floors. Maybe install a second bar out there. And you could plan a huge grand opening and advertise the heck out of it. Bring in every act you’ve met on the road to perform. Make this little taco bar into a true honky-tonk.” She gazed out her side window, then behind them. “You’re gonna need a bigger parking lot.”
“And I’m gonna do all this…when, between gigs?”
Her face fell. It was like a flame had been doused. “I guess I thought—I mean, is all the touring what you really want out of life? Forever?”
He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”
“Yeah, but is it getting you anywhere? Is it making you happy, or is it just keeping you busy?” She bit her lip when he looked her way. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I’m projecting, anyway.”
“Projectin’? What, you’re not happy being a nurse?”
She sighed and said, “Nobody knows this yet?—”
“I’ll never tell,” he said, repeating her earlier promise back to her. He even did the lock-the-lips, toss-the-key move.
That made her smile, and her smile made him smile back. Something moved between them, this unseen energy, attraction, something. He hadn’t identified it yet, but he always felt it around her.
“The truth is,” she said, her smile dying slow, “I almost killed Manny.”
He swung his head her way.
“He had a heart attack right in front of me. I froze till Dad reminded me I was the only medical professional on hand. I couldn’t feel his pulse, but it was just because my own was pounding so hard. I almost shocked him with the portable defibrillator, but he came around just in time. I could’ve killed him.” She gave a shudder that told him how much this had been bothering her.
“And you haven’t told anyone. Not even the She-Brands?”
He knew using that term would bring back her smile. That was why he’d used it. It eased the guilt and shame in her eyes, but only briefly. “I’m just so embarrassed.”
“Well, don’t be. You’ve only been a nurse for a year.”
“And already almost killed someone. Think of my body count after five. Or ten!”
“Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I just don’t…” She lowered her head, closed her eyes. “Your second day back and I’m dumping on you.”
“I don’t mind. Please, now I’m invested in the story. You just don’t…?”
“I just don’t feel like a nurse. I never have. I thought it would come to me eventually, but it hasn’t. Even in school, I felt like an imposter. Like a little girl playing dress-up with her sainted mamma’s scrubs.” She tried to swallow, then tried again. “It’s hard to explain,” she said. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Oh, no. I understand completely.”
“Do you?” she asked, and he could tell by the way she searched his face that she really wanted to know. “Wait, do you feel like you’re not a real country music star because you’ve only had one hit song?”
