“Don’t worry,” Sherona said when she notice
d Katie’s shellshocked expression. “His father used to be an air force pilot, and Errol learned his love of airplanes from him. They used to assemble the models together. Poor man passed away when Errol was so little, he had no way of knowing his son was born with a brain that would make him obsess about planes to the exclusion of everything else in life, including basic self-care and hygiene.” Sherona sighed and turned to pull the onion rings out of the fryer. A minute later, she efficiently slid Katie’s plate onto the counter. Katie remained in the same position when Sherona returned with a frosty milk shake. Sherona must have noticed her bemused expression.
“Well, go on. Eat your food. Errol won’t hurt you. I thought they had plenty of different people in California. Why should it surprise you to find someone like Errol in Vulture’s Canyon?”
Katie flushed. “I’m not surprised,” she mumbled. She was feeling pretty fed up with Sherona Legion and her weird diner before she took a bite of her hamburger and groaned in ecstasy.
For a burger like this, she could forgive Sherona murder.
Just as she was scraping her last onion ring through the remains of the ketchup on her plate, the diner door opened. Katie glanced over, wondering if Errol had returned. She did a double take at the man who entered. He walked up to the bar and flashed her a grin, highlighting a dimple in his right cheek. His face was deeply tanned and his light brown hair was cut in a short, John Kennedy–esque fashion, the bangs combed back in a thick wave. His expensivelooking casual clothing gave Katie the impression he’d just left the golf course. It was a little strange to try to picture the manicured lawns of golf in the midst of this wild forest, almost as strange as imagining this man as a resident of Vulture’s Canyon.
“You wouldn’t be the owner of that beautiful car, would you?” he asked.
Katie couldn’t help but glance back at Monty. Sure enough, the older man was scowling at her over the edge of his newspaper. He flipped it back up, covering his face, but Katie sensed him listening like a hawk.
“I’m Miles. Miles Fordham,” the man said before Katie had a chance to reply.
“Katie Hughes.”
“What can I get you, Miles?” Sherona asked, her tone brisk, but polite enough. Miles Fordham didn’t look like the type that a business owner would choose to insult. Sherona sure didn’t seem to be too in love with the guy, though, Katie observed.
Fordham glanced down at Katie’s plate. His gaze transferred quickly enough to her body, however. Katie did a mental eye roll as he cased her out from boot to eyelash. “I’ll have what Katie had. She looks like she enjoyed it, and whatever it was, it sure is sitting well on her. May I ask what brings you to our quaint little town, Katie?”
“Rill Pierce,” she replied matter-of-factly after she’d washed down her onion ring with a swallow of her milk shake.
Saying Rill’s name caused a wave of regret and mortification to sweep through her. For a few seconds, the memory of what had happened up at the Mitchell place seemed too bizarre to be a reality. The trip into town, the unfamiliar environment and the strange people had the effect of turning her earlier visit to Rill’s into a dream.
The tenderness between her thighs told her different. She dug in her purse and pulled out a scarf, which she defiantly wrapped around herself, hiding her breasts from Miles’s gaze.
She held up ten- and five-dollar bills. “Will that cover it, Sherona?”
“Just the ten’ll do. I’ll get your change,” Sherona replied.
“Don’t bother,” Katie said as she laid the bills on the counter. “It was worth every penny. Well . . . be seeing you.”
“Wait. You’re not going so quickly, are you?” Miles asked with a laugh. “I haven’t had the chance to ask you to the club while you’re visiting Vulture’s Canyon.”
“Club?” Katie asked as she got off the barstool.
“The Forest River Golf Club and Marina. It’s right on the Ohio River. I’ve been trying to get Rill to stop by for ages now.”
“Rill hates golf,” Katie said with a smile as she passed. “He’s more the rugby or American football type.”
Miles turned and started to follow her to the door. Tenacious bastard, Katie thought with a trace of exasperation. He was a nice-looking guy, but Katie’s head was too filled with Rill at that moment—Rill slowly poisoning himself to death with whiskey; Rill touching her, kissing her . . . claiming her. She couldn’t attend to another man’s advances at the moment.
“The Forest River Club is about much more than golf. The Shawnee National Forest is truly God’s country. We have a worldclass restaurant, the marina, areas for rock climbing, camping and rappelling, plus some stunning trails, both for hiking and horseback riding.”
Katie was about to tell him to send her a brochure when he continued.
“We’re right on the verge of getting a gambling license from the State of Illinois for a boat on the Ohio River.”
Monty slapped his paper down on the table in front of him so hard Katie thought he’d swatted at a fly.
“Marcus . . . calm down,” Sherona warned in a low voice from behind the counter when the muscular guy wearing the camo pants suddenly stormed toward them. For an anxious second, Katie thought he was going to eviscerate Miles Fordham with some kind of bowie knife secreted in his pants, the way he was glaring at him. She exhaled shakily when Marcus stormed out of the diner instead, loudly rattling the bells over the door with his departure.
Lovely choice of town, Rill, she thought.
Obviously, the prospect of a casino on the Ohio River near Vulture’s Canyon wasn’t a popular topic for some residents.