Chapter Eight

The café bustled with diners, but Max obtained a table right away.

"Right here by the window all right, Mr. Garrison?" The owner, Roscoe Miller, wiped his hands on a soiled apron tied around his waist. "Gertie will be out here in a minute. I got to get back to the kitchen. Y'all enjoy yourselves."

Max pulled out her chair, and then seated himself across from her. Daniella's heart beat a little too fast, and her palms perspired inside her gloves. Why did they have to sit right out in the front of the room where everyone present could stare all they wanted?

"Max, I'd feel more comfortable in the back corner, there by the door to the storeroom. Can we move?"

Looking around, he said, "No, honey, this is good, right here. I want people to see me courting you, and if we sit in a corner, they might not get a good look."

"But… I don't want them to get a good look. Besides, I don't mean to be rude, but you're not courting me."

Max chuckled, making her want to hit him over the head with a…a book. So, he thinks this is amusing. Well, she didn't. If she could get through one meal with him, he'd probably go home tomorrow and their time together would be over. By the time he returned to town, perhaps she would have moved away somewhere, starting a new life. Or perhaps he would have forgotten about her. Now, why did that make a little pang in her chest? That's what she wanted, wasn't it? To be rid of him?

"Tell me something, Dani. Why do you think the townspeople think poorly of you? Exactly what have they done? Give me some examples."

Smoothing the napkin in her lap, she whispered, "I've already told you. I won't repeat it."

Leaning back in his chair, fiddling with his fork, Max said, "All right. I'll ask some more questions, then."

At that moment, Gertie arrived to take their order. "Hello, Mr. Garrison. What can I get y'all today? We have T-bone steak or sliced ham. Both come with all the trimmings—beans, mashed potatoes, and carrots."

Max looked at Gertie. "Sounds real good. Let's see what Miss Sommers would like, first."

Daniella wanted to crawl under the table. The woman acted like she didn't exist, and her husband, Roscoe, had done the same thing. Howdy, Mr. Garrison. What can I get you, Mr. Garrison? How dare they? But they did dare, overlooking her just as everyone else did.

But Gertie looked her way and almost smiled. "Yes, ma'am, what can I get you tonight?"

"The ham, please."

"Would y'all like coffee or tea with that? Oh, listen to me; I know good and well you like tea. It might not be the real good kind, not like you probably have in your shop, but it'll do, I think."

Daniella looked up at her. "I drink tea each time I come here. You know that. The tea you serve is just fine."

Gertie paused a minute to study Daniella. "It is? Good as your fancy stuff?"

"In its own way, yes, of course. The only way one can ruin a cup of tea is to boil it."

The woman continued to look at Daniella. "Well. I'll be. All this time I thought you'd probably think our tea tasted like dishwater."

Daniella almost laughed. Was the woman complimenting her in some awkward fashion?

While they waited for their food, Max began to talk and ask more questions. "Tell me, Dani, you say no one asks you to sit with them in church. Have you ever asked anyone the same thing?"

The question startled her. "Certainly not."

"Why?"

"Because… Because I'm sure no one would. I don't want to embarrass myself."

Max leaned forward, crossing his arms on the edge of the table. "Honey, you're shortchanging yourself. That's what you're doing, in my opinion."

"Your opinion doesn't count in my life."

The blunt statement hung in the air between them, throwing up an uncomfortable barrier. They gazed at each other a few seconds.

Max turned silent and looked out the window at the dark street. He leaned back and scanned the other diners, casually looking at each table, seemingly with no purpose.

She began to worry she'd hurt his feelings. Why couldn't she talk without sounding so defensive? Speaking to him in such a manner was rude, and now she felt awful. She'd stepped over a line between good and bad manners. Max wasn't a self-centered man, but he did have a sense of pride, and she'd stomped all over him. Shameful, Dani. Just ugly.

The food arrived, and while Gertie placed the plates in front of them, Daniella tried in vain to think of something to say to make amends.

"Thanks, Gertie," Max said, and commenced eating.

Every bite she took seemed to lodge in Daniella's throat. She sipped her tea between each morsel, hoping she'd be able to eat enough to stave off hunger through the night. But she couldn't. The interminable meal finally ended, when Max placed his knife and fork across his plate.

She cleared her throat. "The food was very good, don't you think?"

He nodded. "Sure was. Ready to go?"

She nodded.

As he walked her home, Max still acted the perfect gentleman and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. He still hadn't said anything, just walked slowly along nodding to a passer-by now and then. At the store, she pulled a key from her pocket to unlock the front door.

"I'll just go in the front, Max."

Still, he remained silent.

Inside, she turned to him. "Max, I thank you very much for the supper."

With his hands in his coat pockets, he nodded. "You're welcome. Need help with your stove?"

With a little lift to her spirits, she told him, "Why yes, I'd like that. Thank you."

Daniella proceeded up the stairs with him following. As he stoked the fire, she removed her hat and cape. "Thank you."

When he finished, Max stood and turned toward her with no expression, nothing. "If you say thank you one more time, I'll have to kiss you."

Again, neither moved or said anything.

What's wrong with us? Maybe I just don't know enough about men. Well, I actually know nothing. Apparently, Max doesn't have an inkling on how to proceed, either. Surely, he's been with numerous women over the years, being so handsome and gentle.

She took a deep breath, looked into his beautiful blue eyes, and whispered, "Thank you."

In a split second, Max enveloped her in his arms, holding her to his body, and stroking her back. One hand moved up to her hair, and he removed a pin here, a pin there, until the heavy dark mass cascaded down her back. He threw his hat on a chair, lowered his head, and brushed his lips across hers.

Turning her in a slow circle, he changed the position of his lips to settle them more firmly, causing her to lose her breath. Her head spun and her heart thudded hard against his chest, where she could feel his, as well.

Something let go inside her, very nearly bringing her to her knees. She almost sobbed from the emotion of the kiss, his taste arousing senses she never knew anything about. A thrumming low in her belly made her tremble and cling to him. She couldn't get close enough.

She leaned into him, as her body lost its familiar rigidity. All her life, her mother admonished her to keep her back straight, to sit away from the back of the chair, to keep her feet tucked away under the chair, and to keep her chin level with the floor.

Now, though, Daniella's body melted into his, at least it seemed so. Tentatively, she reached up with one hand and smoothed his brow. Then, daring to thread her fingers through his thick, dark hair, she wondered at the excitement coursing through her body.

Without a thought in her head, she allowed him to lift her up and carry her to the rocker. He sat with her on his lap, cuddling close, tucking her head into the curve of his neck and shoulder. Rocking slightly, he stroked her head, moving down her back in rhythm with the movement. He shifted, bringing her closer to his big body, holding her with both arms, and kissing her neck.

"Dani," he whispered. "Dear God, Dani, I love you, sweet girl."

Oh, what wondrous words. Words she'd dreamed about, invented, and created in her head, all alone in her room with some book on her lap. She'd thought so many times of having a gentleman friend, a lover, a man to call her own forever and ever. Was it possible? Was she being careless and foolish?

"Max," she said softly in his ear. "Please talk to me. What is happening to us?"

Max relaxed his hold and took a deep breath. He leaned back enough to gaze into her eyes. "Dani, something's happening I really didn't plan on."

"What?"

"Falling in love so fast. You see, sweetheart, I want a wife. That's one reason I came to town. You'd been in my mind a long time, ever since I came home eighteen months ago. But I'm not schooled in the ways of good women. I wasn't certain how to go about courting you. So, this is a big surprise to me, but now, I know for sure you're the only one in the world for me. All I need to know is how you feel."

She trembled. "Scared. I'm very frightened, not of you, but of my feelings and, well, of making a mistake."

"Making a mistake? Like how?"

"Oh, not me. You. I don't want you to make a mistake and marry a Mexican woman when you could probably have anyone you want."

"Why wouldn't I want you? And how do you know you're Mexican? You told me your parents said your coloring was from some long lost ancestor."

Daniella pushed away from Max and stood. She brushed her clothing down and stood in front of him. "Max, look at me. I'm different. You must know... I am adopted. I just found out for sure and visited the attorney who had my papers."

He looked truly bewildered. Is he already sorry? Will he now turn against me?

Max stood and took her hold of her arms. He leaned close, kissing her very sweetly. "Now, that's exciting news, honey. Tell me about it. Where and how did the Sommers get you?"

Daniella led him to a small love seat in front of the window, and they sat down. She told him the entire story, and waited for his thoughts.

"You know, I think if I were you, Dani, I'd be real glad I found out the truth. I know the Sommers loved you, and who wouldn't? Even so, they knew you were a little different, but all they saw was a little girl they fell in love with. That says something mighty fine about them. Now, though, you're a woman alone with a future. You can make your own life and your own way. Think how much you have to offer anyone—a man, the town, your friends."

"So, do you still love me?"

Max smiled and winked. "More than ever, darlin'. I feel like I just discovered a diamond mine. Now, I have a question. Do you love me?"

She reached for his hands and squeezed them. "Oh, yes, I do love you. It's so exciting and wonderful. I don't know how to express how I feel."

"Will you marry me, then?"

"Yes."