It matched the one on my heart. I should have been over at the farm, working on riding Ginger. But I couldn’t bring myself to go over there. Andrew’s words were harsh. I understood there was more behind his outburst than just that moment, but if he didn’t want to talk about it, then I wasn’t going to make him.
Maybe he’d decided it was easier without me around. He certainly had more time on his hands if he didn’t have to give me riding lessons every night.
I came back to the interview. “But you were probably thinking more along the lines of medical skills.” I smiled, hoping he’d think I was joking with him.
He leaned forward. “Was it difficult?”
“Was what difficult?” I blinked, wondering what I’d missed.
“Driving a tractor.” His brown eyes were alight with childlike glee. “I’ve always wanted to get behind the wheel of a John Deere.”
I laughed in spite of the gloom inside my chest. “It was harder than setting a bone—I’ll tell you that.”
He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. His eyes went to someone off camera, and he rose halfway out of his seat. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I think we have everything we need. Thank you for your time.”
“You bet.”
His image disappeared, and I clicked off the screen.
Astrid set her chin on my leg, and I absently rubbed her head. “At least you think I’m worth the effort.”
She let out a little whine—her signal that she wanted to go for a walk.
“Might as well. I don’t have to be anywhere else tonight.” I sighed and headed for the front door. Maybe the cool evening air would help clear my head.
Yeah, and maybe Andrew would be waiting on my doorstep when we got back. Right.
Chapter Twenty-One
Andrew
I didn’t run after Harper. I should have, but I had this thing called pride. It got me in trouble. And it kept me from apologizing.
So I had no one to blame when Harper didn’t come over the next day to ride. I stood in the barn and waited, straining to hear the crunch of her tires against the gravel road, while my horse glared at me like it was my fault he wasn’t in the arena.
The next night was a repeat performance of my stupidity. I don’t know quite what I expected. That she’d come out here, like nothing had happened? Like I hadn’t taken out all my frustrations about watching a man I respected more than the sun deteriorate?
But no matter how bad I felt about yelling at Harper, I still felt like I was right. Grandpa wasn’t ready to walk—and he might never walk again. He’d had a sheen of sweat on his forehead after just a few steps. How on earth was he ever going to make it all the way out to the barn?
For Grandpa, the competition was on. Twice a day, he insisted that either me or Aunt Meredith walk with him and his walker out to the corral. Where he’d previously been content to sit in his recliner and watch television, he was now driven to win this bet.
I put my saddle back and brushed down Ace. Spending time with him had always soothed me, but it didn’t have the same effect today. Maybe it was the accusation in his eyes every time he flicked his head back to look at me. “I scared her off. I know it. You don’t have to remind me.” My mood soured—if that was even possible, considering where it was when I’d stomped out to the barn.
I smacked Ace on the rump and shut the gate. Kicking gravel, I headed back to the house.
“Andrew,” called Aunt Meredith.
I looked up to see Grandpa working his way out to the corral. He’d made it a good twenty feet tonight but was sitting on the seat of his walker. It was one of those two-in-one deals that doubled as a wheelchair.
I picked up the pace. “Coming.”
She had her hands on her hips, and Grandpa was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “Can you walk with him? I have steaks on—they’re probably burnt by now.”
I sniffed the air but didn’t catch the scent of charbroiled meat. “Sure.”
Grandpa huffed. Harper wasn’t the only one upset with me lately. I waited, standing off to the side and watching Ginger graze while he got his strength back. He went to stand, and I offered a hand, which he batted away.
“Come on, I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, you’ve made a mess of just about everything while trying to help, haven’t you?”
I gritted my teeth and bit my tongue.
Instead of heading to the house, Grandpa pushed on toward the corral.
“Where are you going?”
“Out there.” He nodded his head and pushed the walker forward, scooting his feet along with a scraping sound.
I looked to heaven as if someone up there could give me instructions on how to get a grumpy grandpa to see reason. “You’re already shaking. It’s too far.”
Grandpa picked up his walker and slammed it back down. “Stop telling me what I can’t do.”
“Someone has to.”
“It doesn’t have to be you!” he fired back. “My doctor says I can do it.”
I threw my arms out to the sides. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Grandpa stopped suddenly and turned on me with speed that belayed his shaking form. He pointed at me and then jammed his finger in my chest. “You’re a fool. Do you honestly think you know more than she does about this?” He threw his hand toward his walker. “She’s a doctor, idiot. And I can’t help but think that if she were a man instead of a pretty lady, you’d take her seriously.”
I rocked back as if he’d punched me in the face. “That’s not true.”
Grandpa turned back around and sank into the seat. He wiped his face with a shaking hand. “You didn’t argue with Dr. Wallace—not once.”
“I—” I snapped my mouth shut. I hadn’t. I’d followed every bit of advice the man had given—to the letter.
“You hadn’t kissed him, though.” Grandpa’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
The tension in my shoulders loosened. I shuddered dramatically. “Thank goodness for that.”
Grandpa chuckled.
I hooked my thumbs in my pockets and kicked a pebble. “I’ve made a mess of things.”
“Yep.”
“That’s really helpful.” I drew in a breath. “It’s not that she’s a woman. Or that I kissed her.”
He gave me a doubtful look. “Then what is it?”
“It’s me.” I spoke too quietly, and Grandpa cupped his ear, telling me to speak up. “It’s me,” I said louder. “I don’t know what to do to help you. She just looked at you and knew. She’s not even related. I’ve been looking at you for months, and I don’t know how to help.”
Grandpa rubbed his whiskered jaw. “You tell her that?”
“No.” I kicked another pebble.
“Don’t you think you should?”
“I’m not sure how.”
Grandpa chuckled. “Well.” He rested his arms on the handlebars and laced his fingers together in front of his chest. “This might come as a surprise, but I might have gotten in trouble with your grandma once in a while.”
“No!” I said in mock surprise.
Grandpa lifted a shoulder. “It happens in every great love story.”
I smiled. I liked the way he thought of their marriage like that. It proved he had a softer side, though Grandma was usually the one to pull it out of him.
“The best way to get back in her good graces …” He leaned forward and beckoned me with a crook of his finger.
I moved closer, my heart hanging by a thread.
Grandpa looked both ways and then whispered, “Dancing.”
“Dancing?” I jerked upright.
“Shh.” He glanced around again, his eyes sharp. “Dancing. Hold her close. Apologize, and then start moving your feet.” He tapped the side of his nose. “Works every time.”
“But how do you get the music to play? When you want it? And what if she’s still mad?”
He tugged on my shirt. “You don’t need
music, Andrew. Hold her close. Say you’re sorry, and start dancing. Bah!” He waved me away. “Fine. Don’t. Lose the perfect woman. See if I care.”
A light bulb suddenly went on inside my head. “You like her.”
He pressed his lips closed. His denial was all the confirmation I needed.
“You like Dr. Cahill. You want her in the family.”
The tips of his ears went red. “She’s good for you. And she’s smart as a whip. We could use some more of those genes in the family—if you’re any indication of where we’re headed.”
I went behind him, grabbed the handles, and started pushing.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with my walk.”
“I can’t stand out here all night while you try to get to the corral. I need to get to Harper. So you’re going inside.”
He settled back in his chair. “That’s the first smart thing you’ve said tonight.”
I shook my head and kept pushing.
Hold her. Say I was sorry. And start dancing. I felt like there should be a bouquet of flowers in there somewhere. But Grandpa had been married for over 50 years, so I was going to give him some credit on this one.
It didn’t take long to get him settled. He was tuckered out, even though he wouldn’t admit it. I said goodbye to Aunt Meredith, who was frowning over three slightly black steaks. “Don’t you want dinner?” she called after me.
“I’m not hungry,” I called back before the screen door slammed behind me.
My truck had never been so slow and so fast at the same time. I rehearsed my words over and over again, but they always sounded trite and not quite enough.
I could hear Astrid’s bark before I shut off the engine. As I was getting out of the cab, she bounded over, her leash dangling behind her.
Harper arrived a moment later, out of breath and glaring at her dog. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
“She heard your truck a mile away.” She panted and leaned over to breathe. “I had to let her go, or she would have hauled me through Mrs. Hennies’s blackberry bushes.”
I cringed and reached for her, wanting to look her over for scratches. “Are you okay?”
“Physically? I’m good.” She put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath.
“Your heart?” I ventured. She had only had one small episode with me. Was it time to help her sit or lie down so her heart would calm down? I was ready to sweep her up in my arms and haul her inside.
“Fine,” she snapped.
I blew out a breath. I’d already said the wrong thing. “Harper.” I stepped closer. She didn’t move away, and I took that as a good sign. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
She nodded once. “Thanks for saying that.”
I waited for her to relax, but she didn’t. I looked up, prayed that Grandpa knew what he was talking about, and reached for her. She stood still, not melting into me the way she usually did, but it felt so delicious to hold her in my arms that my tongue loosened and the words came out. “I’m sorry I was jealous.”
Her chin came up. “Jealous?”
“I don’t know if that’s the right word. I was upset that you knew how to help Grandpa and I didn’t. I was mad that I’d not even thought about helping him walk on his own, but instead looked for ways to make it easier for him to sit around. I was mad at myself for putting him on a shelf where I knew he was safe, even though it was breaking his spirit. I patted myself on the back for giving him a ride around the farm when I should have been doing so much more.”
She stepped deeper into my embrace. “That’s a lot to be mad about.”
I pressed my forehead to hers. “But I wasn’t mad at you. I shouldn’t have taken all that out on you—I should have been a better man.”
Her arms came to my shoulders, and my soul expanded—like it was reaching for her and had shriveled up in her absence. I closed my eyes for a moment, working up courage, and began to sway side to side. Harper moved with me. After a few beats, I took a step to the side.
She giggled. “What are you doing?”
My neck burned. “Dancing?”
Her lips formed a perfect O. Then she smiled and stepped with me. Astrid barked and ran in a circle around us before settling on the porch, wagging her tail. We danced our way across the lawn and back again, our bodies in sync and the tension between us melting away. We ended up in front of the porch swing, our faces close.
“I love you, Harper. I think what you do, who you are, is … amazing.” I traced my finger down her cheek. “You’re so much more, but I can’t think of the right words.”
She pressed her palms to my cheeks. “You love me?”
“Of course, sweetheart. I can’t believe you don’t know that.”
“Well …” She smacked my arm. “It’s not like you’ve told me before.”
I gathered her up. “I. Love. You. I love you. I love you.” Never had any words come so easily or flowed so freely off my tongue. “You’re the sunshine in every day. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing on my mind when I fall asleep. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you, and when I’m with you, I’m thinking of kissing you.”
She half laughed and half cried. “But I’m not a country girl. I don’t know how to ride a horse or calculate the price of soy or plant corn or—”
I stopped her with a kiss. She stiffened for just a moment, and I panicked, thinking I’d pushed too hard, too fast. Maybe I should have danced longer.
Her arms slowly traced up mine, then tickled across my shoulders and graced my neck. I shuddered under the perfect feel of her body flush with mine. I poured my feelings into that kiss, wanting her to know that I cherished her for who she was and everything she’d done in her life.
We broke apart, and I kissed her cheek and then her neck before coming up to meet her soft gaze. “Harper, you have faced hard things and come away a better person. I’m afraid I might be one of those hard things. I’m stubborn, and prideful, and sometimes I say stupid things without thinking.”
Her lips curved up. “You apologize well, though.” She swayed her hips side to side, and I matched her movement, shuffling my feet so we moved in a tight circle.
I so owed Grandpa—big time. “I promise I’ll always apologize right.”
She laughed. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m a doctor?”
I shook my head at my own stupidity. “No. I’m so proud of you.”
Her whole body relaxed at my words, and I had the second light bulb of the night. All the time she’d spent learning to drive the tractor, feeding, and now her desire to learn to ride a horse—was for me.
I was the biggest jerk.
“Harper, you don’t have to ride a horse or herd the cows for me to love you. I was smitten long before you ever had those skills.”
She swiped under her eyes. “Well, I can’t give up now.”
“Why not, honey? You really don’t have to do those things if you don’t like them.”
She pulled me down so her lips were by my ear. “I like them,” she whispered, and she pulled back. “Besides, I can’t let your grandpa win our bet.”
I chuckled, picking her up and holding her tight. “You’d better get going. He made it a quarter of the way there tonight.”
“That cheater.” Her eyes narrowed. “Ginger had better be ready, because I’m going to ride her shoes off.”
“Harper.” I frowned. “As interested as I am in your bet … there’s something else I’m more interested in.”
“What’s that?” She traced a heart on my chest with her finger.
I growled. “I’d sure like to know if you love me too.”
Her mouth dropped open. She pressed both her hands to my face and pulled me to her. “I love you, cowboy,” she said. She lifted on her toes and closed the gap between our mouths. Her kiss was full of adoration and acceptance and a love so pure my eyes stung with tears.
This woman undid me in all the best ways.
C
hapter Twenty-Two
Andrew
It took Grandpa eight days to make it all the way out to the barn.
After five days, Aunt Meredith and I stopped babysitting him. Which he was more than grateful for.
I was in the barn, tinkering around so I could keep an eye on him without him thinking I was keeping an eye on him. He made it to the doorway, his hands touching the old weathered wood in a show of reverence. A slow grin spread across his face. “Hello there, old girl. How’ve you been?”
“What was that, Grandpa?” I asked, looking up from the horseshoe I was working to get the nails out of. The look on Grandpa’s face brought peace to my soul.
“I’m just saying hi to an old friend. I haven’t been out here to see her like this in I don’t know how long. You know, son, I built this barn with my own two hands when your dad was just a toddler. For a long time, it was my favorite part of the farm.”
Hope filled Grandpa’s eyes. I hadn’t seen that look on his face since before Grandma passed away. This was what Harper had meant about quality of life. The ability to enjoy the small things, which were actually big things. She’d seen it when I had not. I’d been such a jerk.
Thankfully, she was the type of person who forgave fully. She hadn’t brought it up since, but I’d made an effort to mention at least once a day how proud I was of her—of the work she did.
I pulled out my phone.
“What are you doing?” Grandpa asked.
“I’m texting Harper.” I lifted the phone and took a picture of Grandpa standing in the doorway. “I think she just lost a bet.”
The old man grinned.
I sent the text and went back to working the nails out of the shoe.
Grandpa settled into the seat of his wheelchair.
I lifted an eyebrow.
“Hey, the bet was that I make it out here, not that I make it back.”
I chuckled.
It wasn’t long before the crunch of tires on gravel had the two of us watching a grey Honda kick up dust on the road. I glanced over at Grandpa and saw a grin that mirrored my own. Both us Allred men were smitten with her—how had she ever doubted that she’d won us both over just by being her?
Opposites Attract: His Country Doctor (The Journal of Medical Romances Book 1) Page 14