“Thought so. Heard all about you and Rafe inheriting Dreamscape. I talked to Isabel shortly before she made her transition, you know. She was very excited about the whole notion of leaving that place to the two of you.” Mrs. Seaton winked. “She was always such a romantic at heart.”
“Uh-huh,” Hannah said. Her voice dripped icicles.
The crowd was growing rapidly. Across the street the door of the Total Eclipse Bar and Grill opened, and two of the patrons emerged. They stood for a few seconds beneath the neon letters that spelled out the bar’s slogan, Where the sun don’t shine. Then, curiosity obviously aroused, they jaywalked toward the gas station to see what was happening.
A familiar green Volvo rolled up to a pump. The window on the driver’s side was down. Perry Decatur, dressed in a slouchy jacket and dark glasses, sat behind the wheel. His head swiveled toward the car.
The audience continued to swell. It was definitely time to leave. He tossed the gas money at Sandy. “Here you go. Keep the change. See you later.” He reached for the door handle.
But escape eluded him. A battered white pickup pulled up to the pump just ahead of the Porsche, and a burly man dressed in denim jeans held up by a belt fastened below his belly got out. He adjusted the billed cap that covered his thinning hair.
“Rafe Madison.” The big man’s eyes crinkled with genuine pleasure. “Long time no see.”
“Hello, Pete.”
Pete Levare hitched up his jeans and screwed his features into a good-natured expression of avid curiosity. “Heard you and the Harte girl each got a chunk of Dreamscape. What the hey’s going on out there, anyway? Is it true the two of you are—”
He never got to finish the sentence. The passenger door of Rafe’s car flew open.
“That does it.” Hannah erupted, Mount St. Helens fashion, from the Porsche’s cockpit. Sensing an exciting new game, Winston leaped to follow her.
Together dog and woman whipped around the front of the car and started toward the hapless Pete. A sense of impending disaster settled on Rafe. It was like watching a film in which events are spinning out of control. All he could do was stand there and wonder how bad it would get.
“Whoa.” Pete held up both hands, palms out, and backpedaled furiously toward the safety of his pickup. “Calm down, Hannah. What did I say? What did I say?”
“It’s not what you said, it’s what you were about to say,” Hannah yelled as she charged toward him. “You think Rafe and I are shacking up together, don’t you?”
“Shacking up? No, no, I never said that. Did I say that, Rafe?” Pete cast a helpless, beseeching glance at Rafe.
Rafe ignored him. He was too busy admiring the sight of Hannah in a full-blown temper. Invisible waves of energy shimmered in the air around her. The stylish acid-green scarf she wore around her throat snapped in the breeze. Who would have thought a Harte would demonstrate so much passion in public?
Winston pranced at her heels, his little legs moving so rapidly that all that could be seen in the vicinity of his paws was a silvery blur.
It was a thrilling sight, but one that he knew would have some repercussions.
Rafe cleared his throat. “Uh, Hannah—”
She paid him no heed. He groaned, folded his arms, and lounged against the car door. He’d tried. Later, when she was pissed at him for having caused this scene, he would remind her of that singular fact. Whatever was about to happen here was definitely not his fault.
“Pay attention, Pete.” Hannah came to a halt in front of the big man and planted her hands on her hips. “Rafe and I are not—repeat, not—shacking up together at Dreamscape. Is that clear?”
“Sure, you bet,” Pete said quickly. “Right. Not shacking up.”
Mrs. Seaton looked fascinated. “I heard the two of you are planning to get married.”
“What?” Hannah whirled around to stare at her. “Where did you hear that?”
“At the post office this morning,” Mrs. Seaton said brightly. “Ran into Mitchell collecting his mail. He said he thought you and Rafe made a wonderful couple. Said you’d probably have something to announce any day. Is that true?”
“No!” Hannah’s voice rose. “There will be no announcements.”
Rafe kept his mouth shut.
Everyone looked expectant.
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Seaton asked.
“I am absolutely positive,” Hannah ground out between set teeth. “Rafe and I have never discussed marriage.”
From out of nowhere a lightning bolt of anger sizzled through Rafe. He stirred against the side of the car. “Strictly speaking, that’s not true.”
Hannah swiveled to pin him with a dangerous look. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying that subject has come up between us.”
“The hell it has,” she shouted.
“I’ll agree that we haven’t come to any definitive conclusions yet, but you can’t say that we haven’t talked about it.”
“Don’t you dare get cute on me here, Rafe Madison.” She took a step toward him. “You have never once asked me to marry you.”
“You know what Mitchell said about my phobia.”
“Don’t give me that stupid excuse about having a phobia. You’re the one who said the best way to deal with a phobia was to confront it head-on. I haven’t noticed you trying that approach.”
“Okay.” He felt his stomach clench. “I’m asking.”
For a second or two he didn’t think he would get an answer. He heard Mrs. Seaton catch her breath. The others gazed with rapt attention. Even Perry Decatur was staring, transfixed by the scene.
Hannah pulled herself together with a visible effort. She glanced hurriedly around, as though finally coming to her senses. Rafe saw the gathering dismay and anger in her eyes.
“That was not a real proposal.” There was a strange edge to her voice now. “That was a joke. At my expense. I don’t appreciate it, Rafe.”
“No joke,” he said softly. “The proposal was real to me.” He held her complete attention. “Do I get an answer?”
She stared at him, her face frozen. And then, to his horror, he saw the glint of moisture in her eyes. Her lips parted, trembled ever so slightly.
“Oh, shit.” He knew instinctively that if she burst into tears in front of all these people she would never forgive him.
He pushed away from the car door and wrapped one arm around her waist. “Sorry, folks. We’ve got an appointment.”
