"Thought you might be ready for breakfast," he said.

I fluffed up my hair with my fingertips. "Tell me the truth, does it look all right?"

"You always look beautiful."

"Billy Lee Tucker, we promised to be honest with each other."

"Trudy Matthews, I am, and someday you are going to believe me."

"Someday I might listen to you, but believing you is another issue. I'm starving for good old greasy food. Let's go" I looped my arm through his.

Instinctively, he laced his fingers in mine. We must have looked like a real couple, walking across the lot and into the restaurant. I liked the idea. For the most part the breakfast crowd had cleared out, so we got our bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits, hash browns, orange juice, coffee, and two apple pies quickly.

"So, what do you think of the ride so far?" he asked as we ate.

"It's freedom in a soup bowl."

"Never heard of a Harley ride put just like that"

"Let's not stop in Texas. Let's keep on going until we hit the Pacific Ocean, then turn around and head for the Atlantic," I teased, but if he'd agreed, I wouldn't have looked back one time.

"Maybe someday we'll do that. But we've got a house to get in order by Christmas. Won't have the furniture or the kitchen done by then, but we'll get the dining and living rooms finished so you can entertain if you want."

"And who would I invite to a Christmas party?"

He looked at me strangely, and my heart seized into a knot.

"I'm not inviting you to holiday meals. You don't need an invitation. You are welcome anytime, and you should know it."

"Like you should know you're pretty?"

"That's a different story."

"Are you being nice?" he asked.

"No, I am not," I answered.

"By then this will all be blown over, and they'll all want to come around to see what you've done with the old, ugly house. And you will have earned the right to gloat, Trudy."

,.Who are `they all'?"

He sipped his coffee. "Marty and Betsy and their families. Your mother if she's having a good day. Maybe Lessie. You'll be surprised."

I shrugged. "I would be surprised if anyone comes other than you and me. Getting the dining room ready will be our goal. Did you and Gert have Christmas dinner together?"

He nodded.

Sitting there dipping apple pie into the last of the coffee in my cup, I began to look forward to the holidays. I'd bring Momma home no matter what kind of day she was having, and I'd definitely invite Lessie. I'd call Crystal, and if she didn't want to spend the day with me, I'd try not to whine. I would even be nice and call Marty and Betsy. Billy Lee and I would make a turkey and dressing and all the trimmings.

"What are you thinking about? You look like you're somewhere far away," he said.

"I was planning our menu for Christmas. You think we should get a turkey or a ham?"

"Gert always had turkey, the smallest one she could buy."

"Buy! You mean she didn't go out to some farm and select a live bird?"

"Not in the past twenty years"

The giggles started.

"What's so funny?" His face was as serious as it had been the day of Gert's funeral when we were in the sanctuary.

I finally got my laughter under control with only a slight case of hiccups. "Gert made me feel like I wasn't a real cook because I didn't buy a live bird and dress it for holidays. She fussed at me every year, saying that a good wife wouldn't mess with one of those frozen turkeys"

"You three girls never knew when she was fussing and when she was teasing. Her sense of humor was very dry," he said.

"Then we'll get a turkey, and you can make that potato salad you brought to the church social."

"And the pecan pies. I'm good at making them. Secret is in-"

"Chopping the pecans very fine so they make a crusty top." I finished the sentence for him.

"That's right. And in never substituting waffle syrup for Karo"

I nodded slowly. "Learned that lesson the hard way too. I'm surprised Gert let you do any cooking. In her generation, men stayed out of the kitchen."

"It took some doing and more than a couple of years to convince her."

"I'd bet it did."

"But she never let me fix the turkey. I offered to deep-fry it or smoke it, but she wouldn't have any part of that."

"You've got that big a smoker?" I asked.

"Big enough to do two turkeys and a ham all at once," he answered.

"Then we're having smoked turkey. But if you make the potato salad, pecan pies, and do the turkey, what's left for me to take care of?" I asked.

"I can't make hot rolls. When I do, they're heavy enough to be considered a concealed weapon if I put one in my pocket," he said.

"How about pumpkin pie?"

"Crust is always soggy."

I laughed. "Billy Lee Tucker! Are you just saying that to make me feel important?"

"I'll make hot rolls and a pumpkin pie, and you can be the judge. I'm being honest," he said.

"Okay, I'll believe you. Are we ready to go again?"

"You might want to visit the ladies' room before we take off. The ride is more than an hour, and the last forty-five minutes there's only one convenience store with a bathroom"

I'd hated ladies' rooms since Gert's funeral. The scenario from that fiasco did an instant replay any time I shut a stall door. Any moment I expected Marty and Betsy to barrel into the room, spouting off about Billy Lee, and I'd find out he wasn't the person I thought, either. But nothing happened in the McDonald's ladies' room that day.

Billy Lee was already on the cycle by the time I got outside. He handed me the helmet, which I jerked onto my head without any help. I threw a leg over the backseat and wrapped my arms around his waist. We stopped on the Taovayas Bridge across the Red River separating Oklahoma and Texas. The Red was down slightly, with sandbars on both sides of a shallow, winding river. Widespread debris gave firm testimony that in the rainy spring it had pushed its way over the banks. Green trees lined both sides, and on the Texas side Angus cattle and one lonesome-looking donkey dotted the pasture.

Billy Lee propped his elbows on the edge of the concrete bridge. "Know why there's a donkey over there?"

"Because he's cute?"

"No, donkeys protect the young calves. They can't abide bobcats or coyotes. They'll kick and bite them until they're dead"

"Are you pulling my leg?" I asked.

"It's the truth. I got an e-mail last week about it. If I had cattle, I'd put a donkey in every pasture"

"Imagine that," I murmured. How could anyone think he was an oddball?

It must have been a good day for cycle riding, because three more cycles stopped on the bridge. The riders meandered across the two lanes and asked Billy Lee how the roads were on up ahead. They were on their way to Turner Falls in Davis for the night, and then they'd return to Dallas the next day.

"Looks like there's construction on thirty-five, but you'll be taking the back roads anyway, won't you?" he answered.