McCormick's Creek Sweet Romance

by Jen Peters

  “Hey, girl, you back here?” came Ree’s voice.

  Robin jerked back to herself. “I’m here,” she answered, probably not loud enough for Ree to hear her.

  Her friend came through the back gate anyway, a grocery bag in one hand and two large spoons in another. “You’re not answering texts. Or voicemails.” She sat cross-legged next to Robin and rummaged in the bag. “So I figured another Ben & Jerry’s session was in order. Cherry Garcia this time.”

  Robin lay back and closed her eyes. “You are a life saver and I love you.”

  “I know,” Ree smiled, pulling her long black hair into a ponytail. “So sit up and dig in.”

  Robin took the pint of ice cream, pried the lid off, and slid the spoon in. “The Two Rs ride again, I guess.”

  “Always,” Ree said, opening her own pint.

  “Except—” Robin swallowed. “Except you’re going to be part of Mr. & Mrs. Blake soon, and not one of the Two Rs.”

  “We’ll always be the Two Rs,” Ree protested.

  Robin shook her head. “Couples never have the same friendships with single friends as they did before they got married. Why should they? They’ve got each other.” She shrugged and blinked back tears. “And some of us are destined to be single.”

  “Nuh-unh,” Ree said thickly around her ice cream. “You and Cliff will work things out.”

  Robin stilled. “I don’t think so. You wouldn’t believe the things I said to him.” She replayed the whole story for her friend. Again.

  Ree lifted one shoulder. “Okay, so you said a bunch of stuff you didn’t mean. Now you go out to the ranch, apologize, and kiss and make up.” She looked up slyly. “And after the first kiss that tells you everything will be okay, you kiss him again—like he’s never been kissed before.”

  Robin stabbed her spoon into the ice cream and out again, over and over. “I’m not sure I should.” She pulled out a jagged chunk of ice cream, staring at it like it was an abstract painting she didn’t understand. “I mean, I ache all over, wishing he were here, wishing I could take it all back. But it was true—he didn’t show up when he said he would. He knew I needed him, he understood what it meant. I mean, he gets me! I didn’t really let him even apologize, but if I had, what could he have said?”

  She let the tears fall, dripping onto her shorts. The ice cream dripped, too, cold as doom on her leg.

  Augie licked up the drop and she offered him the spoon. Even Ree was silent.

  Augie scarfed the ice cream down in two bites, then licked his chest frantically.

  “What’s he doing?” Ree asked.

  Robin gave a wan smile. “It’s cold going down. He thinks he dropped some on his chest.” She realized that Cliff would have laughed his head off, even given Augie some more. Her half-smile disappeared and two more tears dropped.

  “Oh, Robin,” Ree said, pulling her into a hug. “I know it seems hopeless right now. But I’ve seen you two together. He loves you and you love him.”

  “Just because you love someone doesn’t mean being with them will work,” Robin said bitterly. “Life doesn’t happen that way for most people.”

  Ree sat back and tipped Robin’s face up until their eyes met. “Look, I’m your best friend and you trust me, right? So trust this: you two are meant to be together. You just need more answers and more time to be able to figure out how.”

  Robin stared at her mutely. She didn’t know where to begin. She didn’t even know if she believed her friend’s words.

  Chapter 27

  Cliff slapped his lariat against his thigh and urged the cows into the next field, still rich with short alfalfa after the last cutting. Across the pasture, a semi hauled the last of their calves away, driveway dust billowing up behind the huge tires.

  “Move along,” he called, turning his attention back to the herd. Phil had kept a dozen heifers to replace some of the aging cows, and they walked placidly behind their mothers. They had gotten a decent price for the rest of the calves, but nothing spectacular enough to ease his uncle’s worries.

  “You got the gate, Cliff?” Jory yelled from behind him.

  Cliff waved his arm in acknowledgement, blocked a cow who wanted to go her own way, then jogged ahead to the gate. Big Red, his substitute ride while Zeus was healing, moved automatically so Cliff could easily reach the latch. With the cattle moving smoothly into the new pasture, his mind went back to the grimace on Uncle Phil’s face as he signed the papers for the sale.

  The last cow went through and Cliff pushed the gate closed. Jory nodded to him and swung his horse around. Cliff let Big Red amble back to the barn, not paying attention to much until he caught sight of a small blue car out on the road. Robin!

  His heart pounded until he realized it wasn’t hers. In the aftermath, his pulse seemed to almost slow to a stop. He wasn’t sure he’d ever truly get over her, but it didn’t look like he was going to have much choice.

  She’d been right—he had promised he would be there for her and he hadn’t. He regretted that, regretted not being in control of his emotions, but then she’d let loose too.

  Part of him was sure that if he explained he’d been rocked with grief, that she’d soften and comfort him and take her words back. But the other part of him knew that it wasn’t the first time she’d jumped to conclusions. He wondered if it was possible for two people to be in love but never be able to make each other happy. If she didn’t have enough faith in him, he wasn’t going to be able to deal with her ups and downs. But if that was the case, was it possible to make a life without her?

  He had no idea—he only knew that the last two weeks had been miserable. He’d thought about dropping by the restaurant, had even gotten as far as the parking lot before he chickened out. Even if he could figure out what to say, he wouldn’t want to say it in public.

  He’d kept tabs on Robin though—Grandma was good for sharing a little gossip. He’d kept his visits to his grandmother to the evenings when he didn’t think Robin wouldn’t be there, and Grandma had said that Robin hadn’t been able to find a building for her animal shelter. And that she was as miserable as he was.

  “Whad are you going do do aboud id?” Grandma still couldn’t say several consonants, but she sure had pinned him with her stare.

  And it was funny—he really did still want to help Robin. Maybe that was the thing about truly loving someone, that you wanted good things for them even if the relationship wasn’t working. But she didn’t want anything to do with him now and he had no money to donate to her cause. The only thing he had was…

  The only thing he had was a ranch to work on. And a family who might be willing to help.

  He pulled Big Red to a halt and looked at the ranch compound with a critical eye. Red pulled at the reins, eager to get to the barn, but Cliff just turned him slowly in a circle. Not too close to the house…not too far from the road…there, where the water trough was now.

  He nudged Red forward, his heart thumping. There was no reason the animal shelter had to be in town, was there? And if Robin could get enough donations to cover building materials, would Phil and Jess be willing to lease an acre or two for a token amount? She could have her dream and if she didn’t want to see him, he could keep out of her way as much as he needed to.

  Of course, if he just happened to cross paths with her occasionally—okay, more than occasionally—then surely she’d soften. Surely she’d begin to trust.

  He unsaddled Big Red, thanked him with a handful of grain, and went to find Uncle Phil.

  * * *

  Robin dragged through the morning, Ree’s advice echoing through her head. She finally went outside to watch Jinx play with the others. He ran around fine, but seemed to hang back from the group. Which was just as well—she really didn’t want him wrestling and pouncing as they played.

  They dashed about but kept coming back to her, asking for treats, wanting her to run with them, play, do something. Especially Chance. She couldn’t muster the energy to run, but she gat
hered up an armful of pink tennis balls and settled herself under the maple tree for a continual game of fetch.

  The dogs didn’t care if her throws were only half-hearted as her mind roamed elsewhere. It seemed like there wasn’t much going right except Ms. Williams’ donation and the hope of more from her company and her friend. With the town denying her the abandoned building and with everywhere else she looked at being too expensive and probably having the same zoning issues, she didn’t even have a place to begin.

  And then was her relationship with Cliff. Or rather, her own hangups dealing with her relationship with Cliff. Or any other guy, for that matter. Would she ever be able to trust someone the way she ought to? As much as she loved to imagine happy endings, part of her always knew there would never be anyone for her.

  It was too depressing to think about. She stood and brushed the grass off her jeans, then called Soldier over. “Let’s go see Mr. Brown,” she said, snapping a leash on his collar. “It’s time to get him to change his thinking.”

  Mr. Brown opened the door to her knock and invited them in, stooping to pet Soldier on the way to the living room. “So you’re after me again, are you, missy?”

  “No. Maybe. But Soldier needed a walk and I thought we might have a game of checkers.”

  “I like him, but I still don’t need a dog,” Mr. Brown said as he set up the board. “You want to be black or red?”

  “Black? Maybe going first will give me a better chance.”

  Soldier settled himself at Mr. Brown’s feet as they played, but after Robin quickly lost two games, the old man looked at her closely. “You’re not your usual zippy self, missy.”

  “It’s nothing. Just stuff that’s not going awfully well right now.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “Not really.” She started to set the board up again, but Mr. Brown rose and went to the kitchen.

  “Time for a cup of tea, I think.”

  Robin stacked checkers in various patterns while she waited, her thoughts wandering from Soldier to Jinx to shelter locations, not allowing them to settle anywhere near Cliff.

  Mr. Brown came back, settled a tea set on the coffee table, and handed her a cup. She added a spoonful of sugar and blurted, “I had a fight with my boyfriend.”

  She dropped the spoon with a clatter. She was not going to think about him. Except that he was never very far from the surface.

  She snuck a glance at Mr. Brown, who was studiously stirring his own tea.

  He looked up finally. “And?”

  “And I think we’ve broken up completely. Forever.” Her lower lip trembled and she took a sip of tea to hide it.

  “Forever is a long time.”

  So Robin told him the whole story, how Cliff had helped her get the shelter plans started, how hard it was to go before the town council, how he had deserted her when she really needed him. And how she had blamed him and called him names and shoved him out the door.

  She took a deep breath. “Do you think I’m awful?”

  Mr. Brown silently stood and walked to the fireplace mantel. He reached for a silver-framed photo, lovingly wiped the edges with his shirt, and brought it over to her.

  She studied the young couple. A twenty-something Mr. Brown was proud in his white shirt and tie, a hat tilted jauntily on his head, while his pretty wife linked her arm in his, leaning into him. Even with a black and white photo, it was easy to recognize the sunny day, the richness of the trees and flowers, and the love shared between them.

  “You see that? See how happy we were?”

  Robin nodded.

  “You’d never know she’d left me the week before, would you?

  Robin looked up, surprised.

  “She had done something, can’t even remember what now, that made me think she maybe had eyes for someone else.” Mr. Brown shook his head ruefully. “Can’t imagine that now, but I was young and stupid. Anyways, she gave me what-for, talked ’til she was blue in the face, but I wouldn’t listen. So she huffed and packed a bag and left for her mother’s across town.”

  Mr. Brown stared across the room, his eyes unfocused, a slight smile on his face. Robin looked at the photo but could only see the stereotypical happy housewife from the fifties, not a forceful young woman with attitude.

  “And you know what her mother said?” Mr. Brown said softly. “She took one look at my Mattie and her suitcase and said, ‘You promised yourselves to each other. You go back and work it out—I’m not coming between you.’ So Mattie came back to this little house, stomped to our bedroom, and sent me to sleep on the sofa.”

  “Really?” The young Mrs. Brown had an attitude, all right.

  “Yup. Took her another day to figure out what to say to get through to me. I don’t remember all her words, but Jiminy Cricket, do I remember the last ones. She took my face in both hands, pulled me so close I couldn’t look away, and told me that she chose me and I chose her and nothing on earth, nothing, was ever going to get in the way of that. ‘You remember what I say, Clyde Brown, and you remember what I do that makes it true.’ And then she kissed me. Oh, how she kissed me.”

  The old man’s face reddened. “I’m sorry, missy, I shouldn’t say such a thing to a young’un like you.”

  “That’s all right, Mr. Brown. I know exactly how you felt.”

  He looked down at Soldier, petted his head, then looked back up. “Do you, missy? Seems to me you’re just like I was, not trusting the one you love to love you back.”

  His gaze pierced her, pinned her to the chair. Was she like him? She didn’t think Cliff would ever cheat on her, but— Mr. Brown was right, she didn’t really believe Cliff could love her enough.

  She looked at the picture, wondering if the young Mr. Brown had been as insecure as she was. “How long were you married?”

  “Fifty-six years,” he said, his face softening. “We didn’t quite make it to sixty.”

  “How did you get through…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t ask such a personal question.

  He answered it anyway. “My Mattie was a strong woman. She had enough belief for both of us, enough faith in us together, to show me what was real. Took a long time until it finally sunk into this thick head of mine that she loved me in spite of myself, not just because of whatever good points I might have had.” He paused. “Actually, I think I became the man she wanted simply because of her love.”

  Robin was dumbstruck at the thought. Could that happen with her, that she could turn into someone worth having just because he loved her?

  She stirred her tea and took another sip. “So everything was great after that?”

  Mr. Brown chuckled. “Oh, we had our spats over the years. One of us would get huffy about something and stomp around and make noise, but we knew, you see. We knew whatever we disagreed on was temporary compared to our love. So while she was upset, I just tried to bide my time until she got over it, or we talked about it and worked it out. And the same when it was my turn to be disgruntled.

  “Any marriage has its ups and downs, missy. That’s what you’ve got to remember—you’re a partnership. Sometimes you’ll be strong when he’s weak, and then he’ll be strong when you’re weak. That’s what it’s all about.”

  She slowly realized that all the while she’d been soaking up Cliff’s love and reveling in his kisses, deep inside her she’d known she had issues and probably hadn’t expected it to last, despite all her daydreams. But if he could be strong where she was weak…

  “But I pushed him away,” she whispered. “I called him names and was horrible to him.”

  “Then you’ve got some making up to do,” Mr. Brown said. “But you can’t just tell him, you’ve got to show him. Maybe show him over and over until he realizes you mean it.”

  Chapter 28

  “Lunch is on!” Aunt Jess called from the kitchen.

  “Be there in a minute.” Cliff stomped the dirt on his boots off on the porch steps and washed up. “Smells delicious, Aunt Jess,�
� he said, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. Leftover stew—always better the second day—and bread right out of the oven. He grabbed a thick slice and slathered butter all over it before sitting down next to Jory.

  “You look a mite livelier than you have all week,” Phil said. “Did you make up with Robin?”

  Cliff’s gut tightened and his chest deflated. “No. I think I need to accept that it’s over.”

  Jory grunted. Jess frowned and looked at her plate. Phil stabbed a chunk of meat.

  “So why the bit of light in your eyes, then?” his uncle asked.

  Cliff forced air into his lungs. “You know Robin’s having a hard time finding a place for her animal shelter? If it’s not cost, it’s zoning problems. But I was wondering…”

  Phil stopped his fork halfway to his mouth.

  “Yes?” Aunt Jess finally said.

  “I thought maybe you might be willing, maybe, to give Robin a spot to put her shelter out here. There wouldn’t be any zoning hassles or…” Cliff’s voice trailed off at Phil’s lack of expression.

  Phil put his fork down and wiped his mouth. “So let me get this straight. You’ve been after me to buy more land, and now you want to give it away?”

  “Well, not give, but maybe lease it to her cheap or something.”

  “She hasn’t given you the time of day for two weeks now and you want to do this?”

  Cliff stared at his stew. “Just because it’s not going to work between Robin and me doesn’t mean I don’t care about her anymore. She needs this.”

  “Oh, Cliff,” Jess said softly.

  Phil looked at Jory, who simply said, “Where?”

  Cliff squared his shoulders. “I was thinking up by the road, around where the water trough is now. We’d have to put a new driveway in for it, but it would be easy for people to get to and far enough from the house and barns that it wouldn’t seem part of the ranch.”