Wyoming Wildflowers: The Beginning Read Online Free PDF Page A

But she’d had a couple serious relationships in college, had even discussed marriage with Jeff.
    She’d shared a normal amount with her girlfriends about those relationships, and had been in on conversations with these girls about their admirers in various cities. She just didn’t feel like sharing this evening with Ed.
    Especially with Nora in her audience.
    Lydia propped her hands on her hips and said to Nora, “Just because
you
raise the men-in-a-lifetime average doesn’t mean everybody has to.”
    “He looked like he was a real gentleman,” Raeanne said, jumping in to keep that animosity from flaring yet again.
    Donna picked up by singing a phrase about being waited on by a guy like he was a maître d’ from “If My Friends Could See Me Now,” Sweet Charity’s best-known song, with Raeanne, MaryBeth, and Lydia joining in on the last phrase.
    “Except your cowboy’s even better because he’s not looking to get tipped like a maître d’,” Raeanne said.
    “No, he’s looking to get something else entirely.” Nora smirked.
    Lydia glared at her. “So what if he is, Donna has the right to a sex life. As long as she remembers they’re ships passing in the night and not to get tangled up.”
    Nora rose from her spot on Donna’s bed. She still moved fairly well, but the smoking and drinking were definitely showing. There were rumbles she might not have the role of Helene much longer. Some said because she’d be taking over the lead when Angela moved on and up. Some thought otherwise.
    “As long as she doesn’t get other ideas,” Nora said. “Men aren’t looking for a girl to take home to mother when they hang out at stage doors, not even when they see little Donna.”
    No one disputed that. Although Ed
had
said — No. That was just . . . conversation.
    Lydia said staunchly, “Doesn’t make any difference, since Donna’s only looking for fun.”
    Then she looked at Donna, who couldn’t do anything but agree. “Exactly. It’s probably all moot, anyway. I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
    “God,
moot
,” Nora mocked. “Another of your college girl words.”
    Nora never let it be forgotten that Donna had
wasted time
getting a college degree before pursuing a life in theater. Unlike — according to Nora —
real
theater people.
    With the door now open and one of her extremely long legs curled around the edge of it the way she did in “Hey, Big Spender,” Nora said, “I’ll tell you what’s not
moot
— what’ll happen to you girls if Angela hears you singing any of Charity’s songs, even in the shower. Not even little Donna’s cowboy could save you.”
    On that exit line she was gone.
    It broke the party up. “Because she’s right,” as MaryBeth said in a carefully low voice. “Nora might be a cat, but Angela’s a tiger.”
    Donna didn’t sleep much.
    Perhaps because of the conversation. Perhaps from considering what might happen if two ships that passed in the night came across each other a second night. Or, perhaps, because of the time she spent staring at the ceiling, realizing Ed hadn’t said a word about seeing each other again.
    ****
    Did she feel it?
    She’d never mentioned being involved. If she were, she would have said. She was too honest not to.
    That didn’t guarantee she felt anything for him.
    She had to. This couldn’t be all on his side.
    Couldn’t be.
    Did she feel it?
    He thought so. In the moment her sweet mouth touched his, he’d felt no doubt. That wonderful mouth, so generous in smiling and laughing . . . And kissing.
    But lying here alone in bed, Ed couldn’t be sure.
    And it wasn’t like they had time on their side.
    Before those moments in the hotel lobby Wednesday afternoon, he’d been ready to return to the Slash-C. So eager to start putting into action ideas picked up here that he’d planned to move around Sunday appointments to be able to leave Saturday.
    Not now.
    God, all they had was Friday, Saturday, Sunday.
    But he wouldn’t rush