“Hi, everyone. I’m sorry I’m late.” The voice came from behind him as he stood with a whiskey glass raised halfway to his lips. The voice was soft and husky and very feminine, and as he turned around he thought . . .
“Oh, God. Liz?”
The lady smiled. “Hello, Custis.”
“My God, I can’t believe . . . what are you doing here?”
Elizabeth Kunsler said, “Why, I came to the meeting, of course. All the merchants in Stonecipher are invited.”
“But . . . you. What are you doing here? In the town, I mean. The last time I saw you . . .”
“I was living in Omaha,” she finished for him. “I married. You remember James, don’t you? James Stonecipher. He discovered this spot and recognized the need for stores to supply the ranches in the area. So he developed the town. Jimmy died last year . . .”
“I’m sorry ’bout that, Liz.”
“Don’t be. He was a nice man but frankly not everything a woman could want. He did leave me fairly well off, though. I own all of the buildings in Stonecipher now. I live off my rents. And, Custis, when you are done here I would like to speak with you.” There was a twinkle in her bright blue eyes when she lowered her voice a notch and added, “In private.”
He had known Liz—what was it—five years ago? Six? She was quite the dame then. A handful. Pretty, vivacious, and full of fun.
On their first outing he hired a buggy and drove down along the Missouri. They found a cool, sheltered glade . . . and the first thing out of Liz’s mouth was that she was going in for a swim. She did, too. Stripped herself bare as a boiled egg and splashed around in the shallows.
She admitted later that she could not swim a lick. But she did know how to have a good time.
“Soon as we’re done here,” he told her. “Just tell me where.”