“No?”
“Not at all.”
“Who does everybody think you are?” he asked. He shouldn’t have. It wasn’t fair to urge her to spill things she might not spill sober. But his desire to hear whatever she wanted to tell him was irresistible.
She turned away, but leaned back against his chest, looking up at the Texas sky—stars from horizon to horizon. Sparks from the fire floated upward now and then, fading as they went. It seemed like they were joining the stars up on the big stage.
He thought about the cantina, about Lily’s ideas, about putting in an addition with a stage and dance floor. With the friends he’d made in the business, there were nine or ten acts he could book with a phone call.
Then he looked down from the stars to their reflections in her eyes. Her gaze shifted, so she met his upside down, leaning back against his chest. His arms had locked around her waist and he didn’t remember moving them.
“They think I’m my mother, a weaker reflection of her, anyway.”
“Because you’re named after her. And you look like her.” He’d seen photos. When they’d re-interred Lily Marie Hyde, they’d held a graveside service at the pretty little cemetery on the highest point of the Texas Brand. His birth mother had been moved there, too, long ago. He understood Lily’s guilt, wondering if she’d disturbed her mother’s rest and whether she would have wanted to be there. For his part, he didn’t have any doubts his mother would be pleased. Her sister Chelsea was at the Texas Brand, and so was Ethan, as often as he was anywhere.
But he didn’t know whether Lily had come to the same peace of mind about having her mother exhumed, flown across the country, and re-interred on Brand land.
After the graveside service, there’d been a reception at the ranch house. There were photos of Lily Ellen’s mamma everywhere. She was a true beauty, and Lily did bear a strong resemblance.
But he could see the differences. His Lily’s face was softer, rounded where her mother’s was more angular. Her eyebrows arched more gently, and her eyes…
Were staring into his.
“Everyone called her an angel. And she seemed like one to Harrison and me. Perfect in every way. She always knew what to say. She always knew what to do. She was a great nurse, too. In the ER people would ask for her by name. She saved a lot of lives. She’d have saved Manny.”
“Manny’s fine,” he said.
“I know.” She closed her eyes. “I’m not an angel of mercy like she was.”
“I don’t think it’s a job requirement for nurses,” he said.
“I don’t think I’m a nurse.” She pressed her lips tight, then shook her head. “It’s been tearing me up, every shift I work. So I…gave notice. Two weeks ago, so…”
She stopped looking into his eyes, resumed staring at the stars, but she was still pressed against him. The top of her head was under his chin, her back and shoulders against his chest. He wished he hadn’t brought her the sweater.
“I’m really not any kind of angel,” she said softly, and then she turned around, stood on tiptoe, and pressed her mouth to his.
Ethan crumbled like a week-old cookie. He closed his arms around her and then some, gathering her close, and he kissed her back. She ran her hands through his hair and arched against his thigh. Oh, hell no.
“Hey, hey, here now. Let’s take a breath.” He held her by the shoulders and peeled his body from hers. The air between them was icy. “We can’t uh—you ain’t sober.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do. My uncle didn’t raise me like that, Lily. Besides, you’d care tomorrow.”
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you way longer than I’ve been drinking beer tonight. Like, a whole year longer.”
He pushed a stray curl off her forehead. “I know,” he said. And as she started to scowl, he added, “Me, too.”
“Well then why haven’t we?—”
“This is not a conversation we’re fixin’ to have tonight, Lil. Not like this.”
She hiccupped again, then pouted and lowered her head. “You’re prolly right.”
“I’m for sure right. Come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll come back out to douse the fire.”
“Okay.” He turned her in the circle of his arm and started toward the bunkhouse. She was walking fine, not drunk, just silly and loose.
