Page 68 of Paper Horses

He walked away, shaking his head and complaining about me, but his voice no longer held the hard edge it had when I first arrived. Now it was more endearing.

Chapter 17

Hudson

The diner was hopping. It looked like everyone in town had gathered, and those not out helping had turned here to rest and eat. Jessie waved from behind the counter and gestured to the end of the diner, where a lone booth stood empty. Not my usual seat, but it would suffice.

I took Olivia’s hand and led her along, peeking back at her to see that perplexed look on her face again. She was in her head, and I didn’t know how to keep pulling her out. It was almost like there were two sides to her that were fighting internally to take control—the woman she’d been to shield her from emotion and the woman below.

Sliding into the booth, I watched as she pulled a napkin out of the holder and wiped down the seat. The napkin hung in the air, pinched between her fingers as if it held an incurable disease before she dropped it at the end of the table. With a shake of my head, I threw her a scowl.

“What?” she asked, taking a seat.

“If you wanted to tell everyone here you were a prissy city girl, you could have just announced it when you walked in.”

She tilted her head at me, confusion lining her features.

“Don’t wipe the seat down, Olivia.”

“But it’s dirty.”

I scrubbed my hand down my face.

“I’m sure they all know anyway,” she said, sitting back and folding her arms over her chest.

With a glance, I saw the eyes on her, ones that had watched her walk in. This town was small enough that gossip traveled fast. I’d thought the storm would quiet it, but from the curiosity I saw, that hadn’t happened.

“You’re the talk of the town,” Jessie said, placing two coffee cups on the table and filling them up. “Other than the storm.”

“Great,” I grumbled.

Her eyes bounced between us, a smile growing. “Olivia, you make jeans and a T-shirt look good. Although I imagine just about anything you wear makes you look that way.”

“True,” Olivia said.

I kicked her when she didn’t say anything more.

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“Be polite.”

“What am I five?”

“You’re acting like it.”

Jessie’s eyes volleyed between us as we talked.

“I am not acting like a child. Is this still about me cleaning the seat?”

“No, it’s about you being polite.”

“I am being polite. Don’t be ridiculous.”

I flopped back against the seat and rubbed the space between my eyes.

“Well, you two are getting along well,” Jessie said with a laugh.

“We were,” I groused, looking up to see the daggers Olivia was sending me. “I’ll take the usual, Jessie. And this one will take the kids' breakfast.”