And Trish had given him the eye then, the way she was now.
Like a thirteen-year-old kid spying on cheerleaders when they’d stopped for a diet cola after practice. Keeton sighed and moved around the corner of the shelves he’d been standing in front of, out of the line of sight so that he wouldn’t be the first thing Sophie saw when she turned his way. If everything hadn’t changed on a June night sixteen years ago, that is. If things had been different, she would have married his brother, been his sister-in-law. The woman was even better than the girl she’d been years ago. She had a smile that could knock a guy to the ground. There wasn’t a local paper, but the folks in Dawson had Jimmy and Trish. And they’d always liked to keep tabs on what was happening in Dawson, Oklahoma. She and her husband, Jimmy, had owned Convenience Counts for as long as Keeton could remember. Hey, Sophie, what has you out so early in the morning? Trish Cramer leaned over the counter at the front of the store. A few hours later he found himself here, hiding from Sophie Cooper before he could ask the store’s proprietor for baby advice. After he gave her the last bottle he had, he was at a loss. At about two in the morning he started to think the last choice might be the correct one. Either she was hungry, needed changing or something else was wrong. And he knew in baby talk, crying meant something. The problem was, he didn’t know what things a baby required. The baby in his arms had insisted on the supplies. And then this morning he’d gotten up early to head into Dawson for a few necessities. Exhaustion must be getting to him or it wouldn’t have crossed his mind.įor the past two nights he’d gotten almost no sleep.
He thought about approaching her, and then reconsidered. He grinned at that comparison and watched as she hurried through the glass door at the front of the store. She was a sleek and shiny European car in a world of pickup trucks. She looked like an executive from some Tulsa high-rise office building, not the daughter of a wealthy rancher. He even kind of liked her in a slim-fitting business suit, her high heels clicking on the floor as she walked through the door. The hint of red probably came from a bottle, but he liked it. But there she was, running down the sidewalk, brushing a hand through her shoulder-length auburn hair. When Keeton West entered Convenience Counts store at seven in the morning, Sophie Cooper was the last person he expected to see.
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