by Liz Isaacson
Chapter Six
Shay paced in her cabin, her heels making her more anxious than she already was. If she didn’t text Austin in the next five minutes, he’d leave for church without her. She knew. She’d tracked his schedule for months.
“Don’t you ever tell him that,” she told herself, gripping her phone too tightly and making another pass toward the front door and back. Of course she wouldn’t tell him. So she was detail-oriented and extremely observant. Both skills had served her well in the Army, but sometimes they became a bit of a shock for the average person.
“Just do it,” she muttered to herself, making her thumbs fly across the touch keyboard and send the message she’d wanted to send last week.
With it done, her nerves deflated and she sank onto the couch. Now all she do was wait, and she didn’t like it. Was this how Austin felt when he asked her out and she just stared back at him? The poor guy. And he’d done it more than once, which really testified of his character—and his interest in her.
Sure, he messaged back. I’m just leaving now. I’ll come pick you up.
Only a minute later, the sound of his truck rumbled to a stop in front of her cabin. Shay jumped to her feet and hurried around the couch so she could meet him before he came all the way to her front door.
After all, it was just church. Not a date. They wouldn’t even sit by one another once they arrived in town. Shay would make sure of that.
Just because they’d spent a day and a half unloading the Christmas decorations, sorting them, and testing them didn’t mean she was ready to open herself to the possibility of love. She didn’t want the most exciting part of her future to be chess on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. And she would not let her entire life be ruined when the love of her life was lost.
She held onto the railing as she moved down the steps and onto the gravel. With her tall black heels, she didn’t need to face plant in front of the cowboy she was crushing on. She tugged on the hem of her dress—pure black from shoulder to knee—her nerves getting the best of her in the worst moment possible.
When she finally lifted her gaze to Austin, she found him to be a vision straight out of a Hollywood western, wearing black slacks that seemed tailored exactly for him. His white shirt practically glowed in the weak winter sunlight, and the bright blue tie rivaled his eyes in brilliance. And the dark gray cowboy hat undid her composure completely.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said in that smooth, bass voice of his, and she wanted to hear him call her beautiful every day of her life. Maybe they could be the type of friends that kissed sometimes. Held hands as they walked toward his truck, as they were right now.
She sure enjoyed the heat and weight of his hand along her back as he held open her door for her and helped her into the truck. Settling her skirt to cover her legs properly, she gave him a smile. Friends could smile at each other.
She watched him walk around the front of the truck, his mouth in a shape indicating his whistle, wondering when she’d even started seeing him as a friend. He’d been a man she tolerated. A man who’d bought her ranch. A man who’d lit something in her that hadn’t been near fire in years.
He ceased whistling when he got in the truck, and he started it up and pulled out in silence. After fiddling with the radio, he started to hum along, seemingly at complete ease with her. Shay was grateful he wasn’t all keyed up, because she certainly was.
“I haven’t told my brothers about the anger management,” he said when they pulled from the dirt road of the ranch and onto the asphalt of the road leading to town. He cut her a glance out of the side of his eye. “And I want to keep it that way.”
“All right,” she said. “I wouldn’t have told them.”
“I didn’t think you would,” he said. “I just didn’t want it to slip or something.”
She turned toward him slightly. “What are you going to tell them? Where do they think you’re going on Thursday nights?”
He shifted on the seat, a slight cough escaping his mouth. “Bible study class.”
Shay blinked, the irony of the situation bubbling out of her mouth. “Bible study class,” she repeated around her giggles. “So you’re lying about going to church. Seems a bit off, don’t you think?”
Austin shrugged, but a smile definitely pulled at the corners of his mouth too. “I suppose.” He removed his right hand from the wheel and extended it toward her, a very clear invitation for her to slide across the seat and sit beside him, the way girlfriends rode in trucks with their boyfriends.
Shay hesitated for a split second, and then she did what felt natural to her: She slid across the seat and took his hand in hers.
“Have you thought any more about dinner?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her voice came out as a whisper. Did he know he’d been torturing her for a week because of that invitation?
“And?” He looked at her, the road in front of them deserted. He’d probably driven it a thousand times anyway.
“I’m still thinkin’ about it.”
Austin stiffened, an almost imperceptible movement, but Shay felt it in the length of his leg that was closest to hers. “What about church, then? We can sit by each other at church maybe.”
“Yeah, sure,” she said, even though only ten minutes ago she’d told herself that she would definitely not be sitting by him at church.
“Shane said we could have the money to fix up the decorations and get the additional ones we need.”
Joy filled her at the very idea that Triple Towers Ranch would be lit up for the holidays again. “That’s great.”
“He said we have to work on it on our own time,” he said. “We can’t fall behind in our other work.”
“Of course,” Shay said. “Believe it or not, I used to keep up with all of this stuff before you guys came along.”
Austin flinched as if she’d punched him, and regret filled her. He pulled his hand away and put it on the steering wheel with the words, “I know that. I wasn’t saying—a”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m…sometimes I—a” She looked at him, searching his face for any hint of how he felt. He wouldn’t look at her, and she supposed he shouldn’t what with him driving and all.
“I think I understand,” he said, his jaw twitching with how tight he held it. “You don’t like me or my brothers because we bought your ranch.” He glanced her way. “Am I close?”
She folded her hands into her lap. “Sort of.”
A half a mile went by before he said, “Tell me about it.”
And because he spoke in such a calming voice, and his fingers weren’t quite so tight on the wheel anymore, Shay breathed in deep and tried to calm her frantically beating heart. This time, it wasn’t jumping around because of his nearness. Or because of his tantalizing cologne. But because it was absolutely terrified she might have driven him away when she wanted to bring him closer.
Another deep breath, and she started. “By the time you saw the homestead, I’d hauled out ninety percent of what my father had filled it with.”
Austin jerked his attention to her. “Really?”
“He’s a hoarder,” she said simply. “It started after my mother passed away, and after I—” Her voice stuck in her throat.
Ran away.
That was what her father would say.
“Left for the Army,” was what Shay allowed herself to say. She stared out the windshield, the countryside blurring by as looked at it unfocused. “He spent every dime we had. Then more. It took me six months to go through the stuff in the house, sell it all, and get the place ready to sell. Six months.”
It was six months she never wanted to experience again. Didn’t want to think about or remember those days.
Austin slipped his fingers between hers again. “When did you start anger management?”
“A few weeks after I got back and saw what my father had done with the ranch.” The words flowed from her easily, and she realized that she trusted Austin.
&nb
sp; In her world, she’d only trusted herself and those in her unit. They had her back, her very life if necessary. And she’d done the same for them. Just like her mother, she missed her unit in the Army from time to time. Perhaps not quite as deeply, and not quite as strongly, but she missed them nonetheless.
Her life had taken on a dreariness since she’d retired, with only her father to look after—and he didn’t even seem to know he needed looking after.
“I started because of my father too,” Austin said, a troubled note in his voice.
“Where is he?”
“He lives in San Antonio. We had a ranch just north of the city. I grew up there. Shane was set to take it over; it had been in our family for generations, like your ranch.” He spoke in a monotone now, almost like he’d removed himself from this painful part of his past. Shay didn’t like it, wanted the emotional, animated version of Austin to return.
“He did a bunch of stuff I didn’t really get at the time. I was only sixteen. What I remember is Shane and my mom talking a lot, behind closed doors. Then they sold the ranch, and my mom moved into a condo, and Shane took me and Dylan to work at a new ranch.” He looked at her, softening a little.
“Your ranch is a brand new start for us. Something we hope we can pass down through our families.”
Shay nodded, her emotion too much and flowing too fast for her to conceal it should she speak.
“He’s…he texts me the most. For a long time, I didn’t understand why my brothers didn’t like him. But he keeps…manipulating me. And it makes me really angry.” His fingers tightened against hers, and she squeezed back, about all she could do at the moment.
Austin fell silent after that, clearly wrapped up in his own memories, his own past. Shay let him go, because she needed the silence this drive provided, and she was glad he gave it to her, only the low warbling of the radio in the background.
By the time they arrived at the church, Shay had sorted through a few things and made one big decision. She put her hand on Austin’s arm as he started to get out of the truck.
He looked at her, right into her eyes, all the way past all of her defenses. “I’d like to go to dinner with you,” she said.
A smile burst onto his face, and he said, “Yeah?”
She grinned too, glad to be knocking down some of her walls. “Yeah.”
Chapter Seven
Austin blinked at Dylan and then Shane. “She has what?”
“A boyfriend,” Dylan said.
“Our mom?”
“Yes,” Shane said, sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee. “She’s bringing him for Christmas.” He returned to the notebook that he carried everywhere with him. It contained everything about the ranch, and he studied it, added notes to it, and stapled things inside constantly.
Austin wasn’t sure how to feel. “How long have they been dating?”
“Six months.” Shane scratched out another sentence and turned the page. “She didn’t say anything at Thanksgiving, because she wanted it to be about us and the ranch.”
Of course she did. Austin knew his mother to be the most selfless person on the planet. Still, he couldn’t quite imagine her holding hands with a man, or wanting to go through another relationship when her first marriage had ended so disastrously.
“What’s his name?”
“Brian?” Dylan guessed, pulling open the fridge and pulling out the milk. A carton of cream joined it, and Austin gestured that he wanted Rice Krispies with cream too.
“No, it’s Barry,” Shane said without looking up.
“Is it?” Dylan got down two bowls with a shrug. “It starts with a B, I know that.”
Austin wanted to tell them about his date with a woman whose name started with an S, but he didn’t quite know how. He had to say something to get the truck and get off the ranch that night. Unless Shay could drive….
Dylan slid him a bowl overflowing with Rice Krispies, and Austin started pouring cream and then milk on them, enjoying the way they talked back to him. “So, I’m going into town tonight.” He cleared his throat, hoping maybe that would do it. Be enough. No explanation needed. “Can I take the truck?”
“I’m using it,” Dylan said. “Hazel and I are going to the Christmas Spectacular at Sunshine Farms, remember?” He spoke of his fiancée with ease, and Austin wondered if he’d ever be able to do the same with Shay.
“We need another vehicle,” Austin said, frowning into his cereal.
“What do you need it for?” Shane asked. “You could ask Robin to borrow hers.”
Robin had a nice truck that cost more than Austin even wanted to think about. His face heated and he stuffed his mouth full of the popping cereal to give himself a few seconds to think.
Might as well tell them…they’re going to find out soon enough.
He swallowed. “I, uh, well, I have a date.”
Shane finally lifted his eyes from the notebook and Dylan let his milk drip, drip, drip back into his bowl, his spoon frozen in mid-air.
“A date?” Dylan asked. “With who? You haven’t been off the ranch in months.”
“I go to church every week,” Austin said. Seriously, was him going out with someone that big of a deal? “So yeah, maybe Robin would let me borrow your truck? I’ll ask her.” He looked at Shane and shoved another huge bite of cereal into his mouth, suddenly keen to finish eating and get out of the kitchen.
“She’s already out on a job,” Shane said. “You can text her.”
Austin reached for his phone, but Shane was faster. He swiped it from its spot on the counter between them. “After you tell me who you’re goin’ out with.”
“Come on.” Austin rolled his eyes. “I go out with plenty of women.”
Shane and Dylan exchanged a glance. “Not for about a year, I believe,” Shane said.
“You’re keeping track?”
“Someone has to.”
Austin huffed out his annoyance. “I’m not a baby,” he said. “I’m thirty-three, and I can go out with whoever I want.”
“You sure can,” Dylan said with a wicked grin. “We just want to know who she is.”
“Was I this annoying when you started dating Hazel?”
“Yes,” Dylan said. “You both were, if you’ll recall.” He gave his brothers pointed looks, and Austin couldn’t really argue with him.
“You have to promise not to be weird about it,” Austin said, like that would help at all. Shane and Dylan would tease him mercilessly, just as they had with every girlfriend he’d ever had.
Girlfriend.
The word felt half-right and half-wrong in his mind. Shay wasn’t his girlfriend—not yet.
“Why would we be weird?” Shane asked. “I’ll be happy for you. Hopefully it’ll work out.” He sounded sincere, and Austin saw the genuineness in his eyes too.
“All right.” He drew in a deep breath. “It’s Shay.”
Silence cloaked the kitchen. Dylan finally said, “Shay, as in the woman who dislikes us because we bought her ranch out from underneath her?”
“Did she tell you that?” Austin asked.
“It’s obvious,” Dylan said. He narrowed his eyes and peered at Austin like he could see through bone and skin to his brain beneath. “What have you two been doing in the equipment shed all these months?”
“Working,” Austin said quickly, glancing at Shane and looking away. “Talking.” That heat filled his whole body now, and he was sure he was flushing. “I asked her to dance at your wedding. She refused.”
“How many times have you asked her out?” Shane asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Austin said. “Four maybe.”
Shane stood and drained the last of his coffee. “Hey, at least it didn’t take you three years to get her to say yes.” He flashed Austin a smile and said, “You can take Robin’s truck. I’ll text her.” He set the phone down beside Austin and headed out the back door to get to work.
Dylan finished his cereal in silence
, and Austin was glad for it. Just when he sensed Dylan was about to head out too, Austin asked, “I’m not making a mistake, am I?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Well, she works here. What if I screw things up and it makes life difficult for all of us?”
“She’s definitely been prickly,” Dylan said. “But if she said yes to a date with you, you must be doin’ something right.” He put his bowl in the sink. “Don’t worry so much about it. Go with your gut.” And with that, he left Austin alone in the homestead, wondering if his gut wanted more cereal or if it was telling him to get out to the silos so he and Shay could start decorating the ranch for Christmas.
Shay showed up on the front porch of the homestead instead of allowing Austin the chance to collect her from her cabin.
“Hey,” he said, sitting next to her on the top step. “You could’ve come in.”
“I was early.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. She wore it down again tonight, the blonde streaks catching the winter sunlight and reflecting them. Her smile revealed straight, white teeth and a happy glow about her that Austin had rarely seen.
They’d worked in the equipment shed for only an hour that afternoon, then she’d gone out to mow a field somewhere. She’d showered, obviously, and she wore her glasses again tonight.
He reached out and touched them. “No contacts?”
“I got some hay or something in my eye this afternoon. It hurts.” She carefully wiped her forefinger beneath her right eye.
Sure enough, it looked redder than the other one. “Is it okay?”
“Feeling better now,” she said. “But I didn’t want to wear my contacts.” She hugged her knees, bunching up the floral fabric of her skirt. “I’m dressed okay?”
Austin’s throat felt like sand. “Yeah, of course.” He wore jeans and a black polo under a leather jacket. She looked bright, beautiful, and fun while he could be riding a motorcycle to a bar.