She poked him in the chest, her expression indignant. “Howard Caine, you can do better than that.”

“Don’t you know when I’m ribbing you?” He gave her another squeeze. “Now that’s the last hug. You have to meet up with Bobby Joe. Is that him honking outside?”

Alma swore long and colorfully. “Better not be. I didn’t raise him to be rude.”

Howard eased her off his lap and got up to go to the window. “Nope. Whoever it was kept on driving.” He closed the curtain. “Go get ready. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back.”

The country road had no lights. Alma hung on to the strap of her seat belt as if her life depended on it. “Bobby Joe, please! You’re going way too fast.”

“Nobody else out here.”

“Slow down. I mean it.”

Frowning, knowing she couldn’t see his expression, he obeyed his mother nonetheless.

“That better?”

Alma let out the breath she’d been holding and looked over at the speedometer. “Forty-five is still ten miles over the speed limit.”

He shrugged. “You wanted to get out of town.”

“Bobby Joe, don’t get carried away. All I said was that I didn’t want to be overheard at some local place. Iminga isn’t as small as it used to be, but plenty of people know us both.”

“I could pull over around here. We can talk in the car.”

“Keep going.” They were definitely out in the boonies. After passing the tiny gas station and its attached convenience market several miles back, Alma hadn’t seen a single house. Huge live oaks spread their branches over the road, draped with moss that offered only intermittent peeks of the full moon above.

He sped up again. Alma braced herself against the dashboard with one hand.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Bobby Joe didn’t answer for another half mile. “Guess I’m just restless.”

“Any particular reason?” Alma dreaded what he might say.

“Mary Beth and I aren’t getting along.”

She’d suspected as much. But now that he’d been unexpectedly honest, he slowed down even more, which was a blessing.

“Well, that’s normal enough,” she said firmly. “Being engaged isn’t all hearts and flowers.”

“Tell me about it,” he muttered.

“I can’t take sides, Bobby Joe. But I’m here. I’ll listen.”

“It’s complicated. I don’t want to discuss it while I’m driving.” The road widened and a sign for an exit that would take them to the highway appeared on the right.

“Fair enough.”

“There’s an okay restaurant over the county line. All booths. They leave you alone.”

If that was the restaurant’s only claim to fame, that was good enough for Alma. She just wanted to get out of the car.