A Summer in Sonoma by Robyn Carr Read Free Book Online Page B

sense. So, you’re an emergency room nurse? That sounds exciting. What made you decide to be a nurse?”
    â€œAt first, nursing seemed practical. I had to make a living. I wasn’t very far into it when I discovered I really loved E.R. nursing. I found out I like to be where the action is. I’m not very patient.” She sipped her coffee. “What makes a person decide to be a biker?”
    He grinned at her and she noticed that in the midst of that scruffy face was a very warm, inviting smile. “In my case, a scooter,” he said. “I was pretty little. Then a bigger bike, and bigger…”
    â€œYou look like a pretty hard-core biker….” She stopped herself and bit her lower lip.
    â€œI do, huh?” he said patiently. “Well, I am, I guess. I’m not a Hells Angel or anything like that.”
    â€œDo you belong to a—”
    â€œA bike club?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “Haven’t had time for anything like that in a while. I might go on a group ride now and then, but mostly I’m on my own. I kind of like just taking off—that’s the beauty of the bike. When I was a lot younger, I took eighteen months to tour the U.S., with just a bedroll and backpack. I met a lot of riders out on the road. Sometimes we’d hook up and ride together, camp together,for a week or so, then I’d move on. I learned a lot about the machine that way. About the people who are drawn to the machine.”
    â€œEighteen months?” she asked, astonished.
    â€œYep. It was awesome. There’s a lot to check out in this country. You can see a lot more of it from a bike. You like to read?”
    â€œUh-huh. Girl stuff.”
    â€œWell, there’s this book—not girl stuff, but it’s good— Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance . It tries to explain the feelings bikers have toward their bikes, their freedom, the power of the open road, the whole experience.”
    She laughed at him. “I know golfers who think it’s a spiritual experience to get the ball in the hole, but it’s still just a little white ball you hit around with a club.”
    â€œEver been on a bike?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
    â€œI hate them. The worst casualties in the E.R. are bikers.”
    â€œYeah,” he admitted. “Anyone on a bike who isn’t fully conscious, totally safe and has an accident, I don’t sympathize with as much as I should. But bikers who get hurt because they’re more vulnerable than the vehicle—that’s a calculated risk. We understand that. Being on a bike is so great, that’s why people take that risk. I mean, there’s no metal around us, no air bags. It’s not a tank. You have to be sharp, you have to be good. You should have a good machine.” He smiled at her. “If you’re riding, you better have a good driver.” He sipped his coffee. “Ever been on a bike?” he asked again.
    She shook her head, her mouth open a little.
    â€œWho knows? Maybe I’ll get you on one someday.”
    â€œI…ah…doubt it.”
    â€œNever say never.”
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    It was pretty unusual for Walt to take a coffee break that lasted an hour and a half. It was unheard of for him to take that kind of time away from the store with a pretty woman. They’d had such a nice time, talking about his rides, her nursing. Walt didn’t have hobbies outside of bikes and rides—his hours were long and he enjoyed his work so much he never considered cutting back—but they discovered they both liked to read. Walt was drawn to the guy stuff; she went for the girl stuff. Before leaving the bookstore, they did a little browsing—first in his section, then hers. They left with a couple of books apiece—Walt bought her a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance . They both admitted they’d had a nice time when they said goodbye. He told her