“Please join us,” she whispered.
Any lingering hope that Dan would take the hint and make his excuses faded as he slipped his arm protectively around Rorie’s shoulders. “I picked up some Swiss mocha coffee beans earlier,” he said, “and Rorie was going to make a pot of that.”
“Swiss mocha coffee?” Clay repeated, blinking quizzically.
“Decaffeinated, naturally,” Dan hurried to add.
Clay arched his brows expressively, as if to say that made all the difference in the world.
With Dan glued to her side, Rorie reluctantly led the way into her building. “Have you been here long?” she asked Clay while they stood waiting for the elevator.
“About an hour.”
“Oh, Clay...” Rorie felt terrible, although it wasn’t her fault; she hadn’t known he intended to stop by. Perhaps he hadn’t known himself and had been lured to her apartment the same way she’d been contemplating the horse show.
“You should have phoned.” Dan’s comment was casual, but it contained a hint of accusation. “But then, I suppose, you folks tend to drop in on each other all the time. Things are more casual in the country, aren’t they?”
Rorie sent Dan a furious glare. He returned her look blankly, as if to say he had no idea what could have angered her. Rorie was grateful that the elevator arrived just then.
Clay didn’t comment on Dan’s observation and the three stepped inside, facing the doors as they slowly closed.
“When you weren’t home, I asked the neighbors if they knew where you’d gone,” Clay said.
“The neighbors?” Dan echoed, making no effort to disguise his astonishment.
“What did they tell you?” Rorie asked.
Clay smiled briefly, then sobered when he glanced at Dan. “They said they didn’t know who lived next door, never mind where you’d gone.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised they answered the door at all,” Dan said conversationally. “There’s a big difference between what goes on in small towns and big cities.”
Dan spoke like a teacher to a grade-school pupil. Rorie wanted to kick him, but reacting in anger would only increase the embarrassment. She marveled at Clay’s tolerance.
“Things are done differently here,” Dan continued. “Few people have anything to do with their neighbors. People prefer to mind their own business. Getting involved leads to problems.”
Clay rubbed the side of his face. “It seems to me not getting involved would lead to even bigger problems.”
“I’m grateful Clay and Skip were there when your car broke down,” Rorie said to Dan, hoping to put an end to this tiresome discussion. “Otherwise I don’t know what would have happened. I could still be on that road waiting for someone to stop and help me,” she said, forcing the joke.
“Yes,” Dan admitted, clearing his throat. “I suppose I should thank you for assisting Rorie.”
“And I suppose I should accept your thanks,” Clay returned.
“How’s Mary?” Rorie asked, quickly changing the subject as the elevator slid to a stop at her floor.
Humor sparked in Clay’s gray eyes. “Mary’s strutting around proud as a peacock ever since she won a blue ribbon at the county fair.”
“She has reason to be proud.” Rorie could just picture her. Knowing Mary, she was probably wearing the ribbon pinned to her apron. “What about Skip?” Rorie asked next, hungry for news about each one. She took the keys from her bag and systematically began unlocking the three bolts on her apartment door.
“Fine. He started school last week—he’s a senior this year.”
Rorie already knew that, but she nodded.
“Kate sends you her best,” Clay said next, his voice carefully nonchalant.
“Tell her I said hello, too.”
“She hasn’t heard from you. No one has.”
“I know. I’m sorry. She wrote after I got home from Canada, but I haven’t had a chance to answer.” On several occasions, Rorie had tried to make herself sit down and write Kate a letter. But she couldn’t. At the end of her second week back home, she’d decided it was better for everyone involved if she didn’t keep in touch with Kate. When the wedding invitation came, Rorie planned to mail an appropriate gift, and that would be the end of it.
Once they were inside the apartment, Rorie hung up her sweater and purse and motioned for both men to sit down. “It’ll only take a minute to put on the coffee.”
“Do you need me to grind the beans?” Dan asked, obviously eager to assist her.
“No, thanks. I don’t need any help.” His offer was an excuse to question her about Clay, and Rorie wanted to avoid that if she could. At least for now.