The Bowen Bride

by Nicole Burnham

  Katie just hoped Mandy wouldn’t make arrangements like those anytime soon. And that Jared wouldn’t hate her if she did.

  It wasn’t as if Jared were used to dating and knowledgeable about these things, but the silence filling the cab of his truck as he followed Highway 75 toward the tiny town of Herman couldn’t be normal.

  Witty banter. He needed to engage Katie in witty banter.

  “So, any idea what you want to order? Know what their specialty is?”

  ‘‘No, not really.”

  So much for wit.

  They approached the city limit sign for Herman and he slowed the truck to a crawl. “Bet Harry Hansen’s idling behind the grain elevator with his radar gun.”

  She perked up, her eyes focusing on the structure. “I’ll take that bet. I’ve never seen him here during the dinner hour. I think he’d rather eat than earn money for the good citizens of Herman.”

  “All three hundred or so of them.” Jared replied. Both their heads swiveled as they passed the tall building. A black and white was tucked in the adjacent alley, nose out. “You lose. He’s there.”

  “Paper bag on the dash, though. Told you he wouldn’t miss dinner.”

  “What else is there to do in Herman but eat?”

  “Not much,” she admitted. “Drink at Petersen’s pub, I suppose. People have to be excited about Celestino’s. It’s probably too far from Blair or Tekamah to offer delivery, and the population of Herman alone isn’t enough to sustain a restaurant, so I hope it makes a go of it.”

  A collarless orange cat crept through the open area of a gas station, then darted around a metal sign advertising washer fluid as if it had spotted prey on the verge of escape. A woman stood at the nearest pump, her forearm pressed to her mouth to stifle a yawn as she filled her Chevy sedan. She didn’t appear to notice the cat.

  Jared glanced at Katie. “Well, Petersen’s does. And Celestino’s is already pulling in people from Bowen. One of the roofing guys at Porter Construction said he and his wife ate there last week after their neighbors raved about it. Said he ran into an old friend who lives in Blair, and that the couple at the next table had driven over the river from Iowa. But you’re right. It’s tough to make a go of a small business around here. Though you’ve done well with yours.”

  “So far,” she acknowledged as he turned the truck onto Fifth Street, heading toward Celestino’s. “But what about you? That day in my shop, you said—”

  “Oh, no.” He wanted nothing more than to talk to Katie about his plans, to get her take on what it was like to run a one-person business in Bowen, but the sight in the newly paved parking lot at the corner of Fifth and West took precedence.

  “Is that Kevin Durban’s car?” Katie asked.

  “Yep. And they don’t look like they’re having dinner.”

  Katie opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when spotted the young couple. Mandy and Kevin were standing in the Celestino’s parking lot, their position at the front of Kevin’s Pontiac keeping them partially obscured from the road.

  Jared pulled to the side of the street, then put the truck in park.

  “Did you know they’d be here?” Katie asked, whispering as if she were afraid Mandy and Kevin might hear.

  “No idea. I didn’t tell her about our plans, just that I’d be out and that she had to be home by ten and take her cell phone with her.”

  “They don’t look too happy,” Katie said, then blew out a breath.

  Jared agreed with the assessment. Kevin had his baseball hat pulled low, and his hands were jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. Mandy stood facing Kevin, arms crossed, hugging herself. Though Jared couldn’t see her face very well now that the sun was dipping below the horizon, her stance told him a major discussion was taking place.

  “Maybe we should go to Petersen’s for burgers and beer instead,” Katie said. “Give them some privacy.”

  “Shame to miss out on the pizza.” The scent of garlic and fresh-baked crust drifted on the air, making his stomach rumble in response. He rarely ate this late. In his line of work, he often arrived on a job site by seven and left by four- thirty, so he and Mandy often ate dinner around five. “But I agree. Petersen’s has a band tonight, which means half of Bowen will be there.”

  “Oh, forgot about that.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she angled her head to look at him. “Probably not the best choice. We could always drive on to Blair, but you might want to be home for Mandy later, in case she needs you.”

  “Montfort’s, then? I’m not sure what else to do.” He put the truck in reverse, backing them out of Mandy’s line of sight, then turned in an alley and drove around the block until they were back at Highway 75. A left took them back to Bowen, a right toward Blair.

  They looked at each other across the space of the front seat. While Montfort’s was casual, the sisters might talk if Katie and Jared showed up together on a Friday night. Though judging from the crowded parking lot at Celestino’s, people might have seen them here just as easily.

  “Montfort’s is fine, unless you’re a secret gourmet,” she said.

  “You’d have to ignore the coffee grounds in my sink. And be willing to eat mac and cheese.”

  He turned the truck toward Bowen, then hazarded a glance her way after they passed Harry, who waved to them from his police cruiser, which was still positioned to catch speeders entering town. When Katie smiled at the sight of the officer, Jared decided that yes, he could do this. He could have a woman in his home and make her dinner.

  But not tonight.

  “I really can cook. I’m no gourmet, but I make a mean pan of manicotti. I’m afraid I haven’t been to the grocery store lately, though. I was planning to go in the morning.”

  “In that case, let’s go to Montfort’s. If it looks crowded—or if the Fred Winston gossip types are there—we can always get the sandwiches to go and eat at my shop. I happen to know there’s a brand new counter installed, so all that mess is out of the main room and the table’s back where it belongs, ready for diners.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He pushed the accelerator once they cleared Herman city limits. As much as he wanted dinner, particularly now that darkness was upon them, his mind remained split between Katie—and whether or not this date would improve things between them—and his daughter.

  Mandy and Kevin fighting was a good thing, he supposed, if it meant she’d reconsider marriage. But he didn’t want her hurt, either. And Kevin was a perfectly good kid, and good for Mandy.

  “Can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

  “Number-one requirement in the dad job description.”

  “For good dads.” She ran a finger over his dash. “How old’s this truck?”

  “Celebrated its thirteenth this year.”

  “For the kind of beating it must take, carting around wood and tools, it looks pretty good. The interior’s spotless.”

  “Rusting out in one wheel well, though.”

  “But you haven’t bought a new one. Saving your pennies?”

  Ah. Now they were getting into it. “Yep.”

  “And that’s why you’re such a good dad. It’s hard to put a kid through college, especially starting where you did, as a single parent right out of high school. I wasn’t nearly as mature when I graduated college. I didn’t even think about things like buying a house or saving for any children I might have.”

  “Well,” he admitted, “I had to be mature, since I already had the child. But that’s not the only reason

  I’ve been careful and saving up.” He took a deep breath, wondering if she’d react as he hoped, or as he told himself to expect. ‘‘You know I want to start my own business. Well, I’m almost ready to do it.”

  ‘‘I told you before, I think you’d be great. What, exactly, would you do, though? You said you’d never directly compete with Stewart.”

  She seemed genuinely curious, but he remained guarded. ‘‘I’ve always wanted to make furnitu
re. I love the woodworking I do in people’s homes—the built-in shelves, the fireplace mantels, that kind of thing—but I would love to make high-quality furniture. Solid tables, dressers, beds. Furniture that can be handed down from generation to generation. Something that allows for experimentation, for real craftsmanship.”

  “Wow.”

  “What can I say? I’m a furniture geek.”

  “Never heard of anyone being a furniture geek, but I’ll take your word for it,” she said, grinning.

  “I’m hoping to rent some space on Main Street, maybe a block off if I have to, and open a small showroom. But it’s a risk. Kind of like opening an Italian restaurant in a town of three hundred. The odds are against success. And since I’d be doing everything custom, it’ll take a while to really get things going.”

  “I’m quite familiar with the challenge, believe me, though my shop already had a good reputation, thanks to my grandmother.”

  He slowed down, avoiding a squirrel who had the audacity to run onto the road despite the decreasing visibility. Once he hit cruising speed again, Jared asked, “Does it make a difference to you? If I succeed, I mean?”

  Katie turned toward him, and he could feel her frown, despite being unable to fully see her expression in the now-darkened cab. “Of course I want you to do well. What would make you say that?”

  “Well, when we talked on the porch the other night, you said that the thread and Mandy were only part of what made you cautious.” He flicked his gaze toward her for a moment before turning his focus back to the road. “There was another part, wasn’t there?”

  “You’re getting at something, but I’m not sure what.”

  “Reputation means a lot around here, when you see the same people year in and year out. You knew quite a bit about me before I ever set foot in your shop. You knew about my daughter from Fred. You knew Stewart’s reputation, and that I work for him. And I knew something about you from Stewart. It’s the way things work in a small town. It’s part of why you’re successful in your business. You have a great reputation.”

  He slowed the truck again as they approached the outskirts of Bowen, though he knew there wouldn’t be any speed traps at this time of night. A group of teenagers gathered in an empty lot near the gas station, leaning against their cars and talking, probably deciding whether or not to rent an alley at Spare Me, the retro-style bowling alley at the northern edge of town, or drive to Blair to catch the latest big-budget movie.

  He remembered when he’d been one of them, hanging out with Corey and a group of their friends, talking about the weekend’s Railroader football game or whether they had enough money to make it worthwhile to drive to one of the festivals or a tractor pull taking place in Blair. In many ways he felt as if it’d just been a few weeks or months ago, but when he thought of Mandy, it seemed a lifetime.

  “Having a teenage daughter is one reason I’m cautious about dating. The other is reputation. What I need to know,” he said as he spun the truck into one of the Main Street parking spaces near Montfort’s, “is whether you need to date a certain sort of person. If reputation matters.”

  She turned in her seat, though her belt remained buckled. “I’d have a difficult time dating a felon, if that’s what you mean. You have a secret I need to know?”

  He shook his head. “You think anyone could keep a secret like that here? There’s no prison record. Good thing, since I’m sure Corey’s parents would have thrown me in jail if they’d had the opportunity.”

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and continued, “They aren’t the only ones in town who’ve always thought the worst of me. Look at Fred. He doesn’t intend to look down on me, but he does, and he’s one of the nicest guys around.”

  “Fred doesn’t mean anything by his comments. Don’t take what he says personally. I’m sure he’s said a thing or two about me over the years, too.”

  “It’s not the same. You should see the stares I sometimes get when I go to church with Mandy. Even now, all these years later, people will whisper and point out the guy who knocked up sweet little Cornelia Welsh and upset her so much she had to move. And who knows what else I did, because Corey’s poor parents ended up leaving town, too.”

  “Jared—”

  “They say that Stewart was a dear to hire me and give me a means to support Mandy. They even wonder—sometimes aloud, intending for me to hear—how a man like me could possibly raise a girl all alone.”

  “I don’t think those things, Jared.”

  She tentatively touched the back of his hand. He wanted nothing more than to grab it and kiss it—to kiss her everywhere—but he had to know.

  “Is the reason you want me to be a success—the reason you’ve complimented me on my parenting—because you want to make sure my reputation is good enough for you?” He stretched his fingers, capturing hers and giving them a squeeze. “If you feel that way, I won’t think less of you. I truly understand. It’s human nature to harbor those kind of judgments when it comes to friends or other people about town. As long as no one is harmed, it’s okay to trust what your gut tells you about others. But for a relationship, I need more than that. Neither of us are the casual, quickie fling type. The standards are higher.”

  “They are.” She closed her eyes for a few beats before meeting his gaze again. “I’ve always been more concerned with my own reputation than I should be, simply because of who my grandparents were. And because Bowen is, well, Bowen. As you said, everyone talks. Beliefs have deep roots.”

  He took a deep breath and gave her fingers another squeeze before releasing her hand. “That’s why, before we walk into Montfort’s together, I need to know that you’d want to date me even if I never open my own shop, or if I go belly up in a year and have to go back to working for Stewart. That, in the deepest part of your heart, you don’t care that I don’t have a fancy education like you do and probably never will. I need to know you won’t care that people will whisper about you the minute they believe you’re seeing me. If that’s the case, fair enough. But there’s not much point in going forward.”

  Her eyes softened. “People think more highly of you than you believe, Jared.”

  She meant to make him feel better, and he loved that about her. Katie was going to make a wonderful mom someday, and she’d make someone a wonderful wife. He just didn’t know if he was the man for her. If, in her heart, she could really make that leap from saying all the right things to feeling all the right things.

  “You don’t know until you’ve walked in my shoes.” His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears, but he had to be certain. “Katie, I don’t want our relationship to be contingent on my success. Mandy is the only person who’s ever truly believed in me one hundred percent. There’s a connection between you and me I can’t even begin to explain, so if reputation is an issue, I need to know that now. Not a month or six months from now. Or when my business fails to take off. Or when people like Fred, who mean well but are completely clueless, start warning you away from me.”

  Katie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back so her head rested against the glass of the window. ‘‘That’s all you want from me? That I believe in you?”

  “I’m not asking you to. I want you clear on that point. I’ve always felt that a person can’t force anyone to believe something. I’m simply asking whether or not you do.”

  Chapter 9

  “Jared, I can’t answer that.”

  ‘‘I see.” Jared ripped his gaze from her and stared straight ahead. Katie followed his line of sight, through the chipped but spotless windshield toward the windows lining the front of Montfort’s. Now that darkness had fallen, it was easy to see a group of teens dropping their tips on a table and leaving. Two families occupied booths along the windows, and farther inside, Gloria stood near a table with a plastic bin, filling it with dirty glassware.

  “It’s not what you think,” Katie replied.

  She reached out and put her hand on his knee. Doing s
o was dangerous to her psyche, but somehow her urge to comfort him overrode her own desire for self-protection. Did the guy not have a clue?

  “Look, let’s eat. I’m dying of hunger here. The dinner hour is pretty much over, and no one we know is in there— well, other than the Montforts—if you’re worried about being seen together, which I am definitely not.” She gave his knee a quick, light pat, then hopped out of the truck and shut the door, stepping onto to the curb before Jared could protest.

  “I’d have opened your door for you, you know,” he mumbled when he made it to her side, which made Katie grin. Of course he would have opened the door for her.

  “I might have a certain reputation,” he added, “but that doesn’t mean I’m impolite.”

  “Jared? Get over it already.”

  He stopped short. “Come again?”

  “I said get over it. Yes, people in town might think of you a certain way, but not the people who’ve spent time with you, and not me.” She gave him a slow smile, one intended to put his mind at ease. “So get over it.”

  When he stared at her in silence, she gestured toward the door. “I’ll let you open that one.”

  He grabbed the polished nickel handle, then gestured for Katie to enter ahead of him. Gloria waved them in, calling from behind the counter that they were free to take any of the open tables and she’d bring out two of her brand-new menus.

  “Gotta love sit-down service at night. Sure beats the long line at lunch,” Katie commented.

  Clearly, though, Jared’s mind remained fixed on something besides fresh sandwiches and soup. “Wait a minute. What did you mean by—”