Cynthia Turley was in the middle of cleaning his favorite table when he walked through the diner door.
"I didn't say he was good looking," Cynthia said.
Cynthia looped the coils of the telephone cord around her finger.
Cynthia rolled her eyes in exasperation.
For the next week Cynthia listened to - and even found herself instigating - discussions about Mr. Cade.
"Nothing today," Adrena said as Cynthia dug in her purse for the box key.
"Again" Cynthia sighed, abandoning her search.
Cynthia responded, focusing her attention on a speck of dirt on the counter.
Cynthia looked up at Adrena.
Adrena tipped her head to the side and studied Cynthia thoughtfully for a moment.
Cynthia caught her breath.
He stomped his boots and shook white flakes from his hat and coat before entering the house Cynthia poured them both a cup of coffee as he washed at the sink.
As for Cynthia, her cheeks weren't the only things filling out.
When Cynthia finished tightening the cinch and lowered the stirrup, she turned to find him watching her.
Cynthia leaned over as they drew near one and tried to pet it, but the cow moved away a few steps and began grazing again.
Cynthia glanced up at Cade.
Cynthia caught her breath.
Cynthia knew her face was getting red.
Thankful for the change of subject, Cynthia launched into a description of her latest conquests with the cat, again tucking that nagging doubt to the back of her mind.
Cade launched into an investigation of the old truck while Cynthia and Mary caught up on the latest gossip.
Cynthia reached for her purse.
Cynthia rolled her eyes.
"I can," Cynthia replied archly.
Cynthia closed the book and gazed out the window.
Cade answered the door and ushered his sister into the family room where Cynthia was doing some last minute dusting.
This is Cynthia Turley.
Cynthia, this is Claudette Lander and her husband Carl.
Cynthia offered a hand to Carl and he accepted it cordially.
I'll show you where you will sleep while Cynthia gets supper on the table.
Claudette and Carl were waiting patiently in the dining room when Cynthia and Cade entered.
Sobering, Cynthia addressed them.
Cynthia was peeling potatoes when Claudette wandered into the kitchen.
Cynthia glanced up and smiled warmly.
Claudette laced her fingers and leaned against the counter, eyeing Cynthia with a puzzled expression.
Her intent was obvious, but Cynthia decided to play dumb.
Cynthia didn't dignify her statement with an answer.
Cynthia jerked her head around and stared at Claudette.
Cynthia picked up another potato and eviscerated an eye.
Cynthia began slicing the potatoes in the pot.
Cynthia ran water in the pot.
Cynthia fairly leaped away from Cade, her face flaming.
Cynthia turned on Claudette.
Cynthia slammed the shaker on the counter, spraying salt on the floor.
Cynthia glanced at him and frowned.
She sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating Cynthia with a compassionate expression.
Cynthia was careful not to flirt with Cade again, putting on a professional front when he was around.
Cynthia picked at her food, pushing it around the plate more than anything else.
Following his gaze, Cynthia saw the little green Ford coming up the drive.
It's open, Cynthia called.
Cynthia grabbed the opportunity to change the subject.
Over the next couple of weeks, Cynthia made a few visits to town, once taking in a movie before she returned.
When Mary answered, Cynthia stammered around about the weather and every other subject she could think of.
Cynthia wiped a tear off her cheek and when she spoke, her voice didn't sound like her own.
Cynthia dropped to the couch and held the cool rag to her face as a new wave of nausea clutched her stomach.
Cynthia removed the rag from her face and stared at her friend.
Cynthia clamped the rag to her face again.
Cynthia lowered the rag again.
Cynthia spotted him as he crossed the living room and started down the hall, his boot heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floor.
Cade looked up at Cynthia, his expression alarmed.
Cynthia reached down and pulled the cap back on his head.