Lafayette took his place on the floor by Reese. Man’s best friend probably got more than a few table scraps from his master, but who could blame him? That forlorn-looking face begged to be loved.
Four other housemates joined them at the table. Two were older men in town on business for a few months, and two were brothers, Clem and Albert Henderson. After introductions were made, Mrs. Baxter asked Reese to offer grace.
Mrs. Baxter laid a fine table of roast beef with potatoes, carrots, and cabbage. Her dinner rolls were light and fluffy, and the cherry pie she served for dessert would rival one of Charlotte’s.
Tessa was pelted with questions about where she grew up and where she lived now, but she was careful not to reveal too much to any of these men. Whenever people found out she lived with her Aunt Sam on Summit Avenue, their demeanor changed, so she kept that part to herself.
As soon as dinner was over, the other residents departed, but Reese began to gather the dishes. Although not used to clearing the table nowadays, Tessa joined him and brought the leftover plate of roast beef and the bowl of potatoes to the kitchen.
“Reese, you leave those dishes for me to wash.” Mrs. Baxter hurried in with the rest of the bowls. “You and Tessa go enjoy your afternoon.”
“I think we’ll do exactly that.” Reese took a final swig from his coffee cup. He thanked Mrs. Baxter for the delicious dinner and planted a kiss on the woman’s cheek. Tessa thanked Mrs. Baxter for opening her home to her and making her feel so welcome.
“Come back anytime, Tessa.” Mrs. Baxter took Tessa’s hands. “And if you come while Reese is working, I’ll tell you all of his quirks.”
“I’ll have to do that.” Tessa squeezed Mrs. Baxter’s hands. “And thank you again. The pie was especially delicious.”
“Reese, I think she’s a keeper.”
“Because she likes your pie?” He took Tessa’s elbow. “Come on before she hoodwinks you into staying for her cinnamon rolls.”
They hurried to the automobile, and Tessa hopped inside. “Where are you taking me?”
Reese shut the car door. “I’m impressed. You’ve waited half the day to ask me that.”
“So?”
“It’s a secret.” He chuckled and started the car. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“What if I guess?”
“Hmm.” He drummed his thumb on the steering wheel. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”
Unfamiliar streets and buildings greeted Tessa as they drove to the edge of the city. A whiff of freshly mowed grass caused her to look around, but she couldn’t find its source.
“Are we going to the Indian Mounds?” It was her tenth guess, but Reese simply shook his head no. “To Fort Snelling?”
Reese glanced at her and grinned. “We’re almost there.”
At long last, Reese parked the car in front of an attractive building with a brick and plaster façade. He reached into the back of the motorcar and removed a shotgun. She tensed. Why would he need that? He gave her no information from the time they exited the Model T until they reached the door.
“Reese, the suspense is killing me. Please, tell me what’s going on.” She eyed the weapon in his hands. “And more specifically, why are you carrying a gun?”
“It’s part of the fun.” He grinned and held the door to the club for her. “Have you ever shot one of these before?”
She paused. “You’re going to let me shoot a gun with real bullets?”
“No, I thought we’d let you shoot marshmallows.” He flashed her another grin. “Shotguns use shells, or you can call it shot.”
“And what are we going to shoot? I don’t think I could kill a bird or a bunny, and certainly not a bear, even though I’d love to climb a mountain and see one.”
“Tessa, is life ever dull with you around?” He pressed his hand to the small of her back and nudged her inside. “This is a shooting range, and I’m going to teach you how to trap shoot.”
All eyes turned toward them as they walked through the club to the shooting range. A thrill fired through Tessa. Reese was sharing something with her that was important to him. They got along well while gardening, but what about outside Como? Today they’d find out the answer.
He directed her toward one end of the shooting range, away from everyone else. “I’ll pull for you.”
“Pull?”
“Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He loaded the trap with the clay disc and explained how the trap worked. “When the shooter says ‘pull,’ you tug on this string, which flips the lever, and the disc flies across the sky.”
“And you just point and shoot?” She whipped the shotgun up as if she planned to fire it.
“Sort of.”
She let the barrel drop downward. “Reese, do you have a smaller gun? This one is heavy.”
“Yes, but the heavier the gun, the less recoil it has. I don’t want you to hurt your shoulder.”
“But you don’t care if my muscles ache?” She gave him a teasing grin, then tipped the shotgun to the side and studied the mark. “What kind of shotgun is this?”
He pushed the barrel downward, away from his chest. “Never point at anything you don’t plan to shoot. Okay?”
“I can see the merit in that.” She giggled. “But maybe I’m planning to shoot you at some point in the future.”
“Then why don’t you think of it as never point at anything you don’t plan to shoot right now.”
“That works for me.”
“And to answer your question, this is a 12 gauge Remington.” He set the box of shells on the fence rail. “And that box holds the shot we’re using.”
“Can I watch you first?”
“Sure. Step over here and pull when I give the signal.” He loaded the shotgun, took his stance, and drew in a deep breath. “Pull.”
The trap mechanism clicked and the clay disc shot out.
In a lightning-quick, fluid motion, he raised the shotgun and fired. The disc exploded in midair, and Tessa burst into applause. “You did it!”
He lowered the shotgun. “Are you ready to give it a try?”
“Absolutely.” Excitement coursed through her veins. She tugged off her gloves and tucked them into her satin belt. As soon as he moved out of the way, she stepped into his spot and held her hands out for the Remington.
Reese gave her the shotgun and watched her take her stance. “Move your feet apart a little more. Shoulder width.”
“Like this?” She moved her feet outward as much as her narrow skirt would allow. “Now what?”
“There are two tricks to mastering trap when you’re starting out. First, always, always keep your eye on the target and not on the gun.” He paused and watched her nod. “Second, you want to move in a smooth motion. Practice that, okay?”
Tessa attempted to move the shotgun into position, but her motions seemed unfamiliar and jerky. He stepped behind her and covered her hands with his own. “Here, let me help.”
She sucked in her breath. Did he think this would make it easier for her to concentrate?
“Let’s do it in slow motion, Tessa. Nice and easy.”
Her corset cinched as he helped her raise the gun from her side to her shoulder. If he didn’t step away soon, she might faint in his arms. That mental picture brought a smile to her face.
“Focus, Tessa.”
So much for romantic notions. Mr. Practical was on duty. Mr. This-is-my-friend-Tessa.
“Put your left hand here, under the fore-end.” He moved her hand to the correct place. “Press the stock into your shoulder. Lift your elbow a little to keep it where you want it.” He placed his hands on her waist. “It’s important to be balanced. Is that how you feel?”
Balanced? Was he kidding? With his hands on her waist and dizzying waves rolling in her stomach, balanced would be the last thing she’d use to describe how she felt.
She shifted under the weight of the gun.
“Careful. I’ve got you.”
Boy, did he.
&
nbsp; Reese stepped back, and she immediately missed the warmth of his body against her back.
He stepped in front of her. “Now, lower the gun and then raise it. Let’s see how smoothly you can do it on your own.”
Tessa did her best to comply, but it still felt awkward.
“Try it again.” He stepped in front of her and made a rolling motion with his hand. “Good work, Tessa. You’re a natural.”
“I haven’t shot anything yet.”
“You will.” He picked up the cord on the trap. “Remember, keep your eyes on the clay pigeon, not on your gun. When you think you’re ready, take a deep breath, then yell ‘pull.’”
One, two, three deep breaths. She swung the shotgun into place. “Pull!”
The click of the trap told her the disc had released. She caught sight of the disc, swung the gun barrel to the left, and squeezed the trigger. The shotgun slammed into her shoulder, but the disc continued its arch.
A miss.
She lowered her gun and sighed. “I don’t know if this is my gift, Reese.”
“You’re doing great. Try again.”
Squaring her shoulders, she repeated the process. Deep breath, smoothly raise the shotgun, yell “pull.” She kept her eye on the clay disc and fired the shot. A clang sent a surge of excitement through her. “Did I hit it?”
“Yes!”
“Can I do it again?”
“As much as you want.”
Half an hour later, Tessa’s shoulder ached, but she’d found a new thrill. Every time she hit the clay pigeon, she felt it, and the effect quadrupled when Reese flashed her one of his grins, his eyes full of pride.
They went inside the club, and Reese brought over two bottles of Coke. “What did you think?”
“I loved it. Tell me, how did you get into shooting trap?”
“My best friend Erik introduced me.”
She glanced around the room. “Is he here?”
“No. He and his wife are at her mother’s this weekend. He’ll be sore he wasn’t here. He wanted to meet you.”
“He knows about me?”
“Yes.” Reese twisted his Coke bottle in his hands. “He does.”
“I’m sure you tell him about all of your friends.”
“No, not all of them.”
Her hopes dove. Reese didn’t correct her reference to the word friend, and he had mentioned other people to this Erik. She had to quit wanting more from their relationship. Change the subject. Do something else.
She sat up straighter in her chair. “I have to admit I would have thought you a baseball man before I would have pictured you as a trapshooter.”
He shrugged. “I like baseball. I’m a decent third baseman, but I love shooting trap.”
“And from what I saw, you’re good at it.”
“I hit 90 percent.” He slanted a smile toward her.
“You mean you hit nine out of every ten pigeons?” From her experience today, that was incredible. She’d probably hit one out of ten.
He chuckled. “There are men who shoot much better than that, Tessa.”
“And women?”
“Yes, there are those too.” He downed the rest of his Coke. “I read something recently about the world champion ladies’ trapshooter giving an exhibition in Arizona.”
“Well, if gardening doesn’t work out for me, maybe I can head to Arizona.”
Reese scowled. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re my partner.”
Partner. Friend. Yes, that was her. She steeled her heart and forced a smile. “I should probably be getting home.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Reese stood and offered her his hand.
She pretended she didn’t notice and stood on her own. Now, if she could only pretend he hadn’t captured her heart.
19
Somewhere between attending church services together and leaving the shooting range, something had gone amiss with Tessa, and Reese had no idea what it was. As he drove through Saint Paul with Tessa seated beside him, he replayed the conversations in his mind. They would be reaching her aunt’s home soon. This was not how he wanted their first outing to end.
Tessa sighed.
“Didn’t you like shooting? What’s wrong? You’ve sure gotten quiet.”
“Nothing.”
He placed his hand on her arm. “Why are you hiding things now? I thought we were friends.”
“Friends, sure.” Her voice sounded full of resignation.
Why? They were friends, and like Erik had said, friendship was a great place to start a relationship.
Realization hit him. How many times had he referred to her today as his friend? Five or six? No wonder her demeanor had suddenly changed direction. He’d done nothing to let her know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted more.
He pulled the car to the curb.
“What are you doing?”
“Making something clear that I should have a week ago.” He came around to her side of the automobile and opened the door. Once she’d climbed out, he shut the door but didn’t give her room to step away. He moved closer until she was forced to lean against his Model T, and then he cupped her cheek. “I want you to be my friend, Tessa, but not just my friend.”
Then he covered her lips with his own and did his best to chase away every thought of being only friends.
No magic carpets were needed tonight to carry Tessa inside Aunt Sam’s mansion. Just thinking about Reese made her float right through the door. She felt as if she’d been baptized in fairy dust.
“Well, Charlotte, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Hannah teased.
Charlotte tipped Tessa’s chin upward. “And from her dreamy expression, I think she has a lot to tell us about.”
With a sigh, Tessa leaned against the wall of the foyer and closed her eyes. “As much as I love you two, I think I’ll keep this secret to myself.”
“Uh-uh-uh.” Hannah wagged her finger. “After all these years of you pestering us after we spent time with a fellow, you are not getting away without spilling the beans.”
“I know how to make her talk.” Charlotte snaked her arm through Tessa’s and pulled her close. “Let’s go in the kitchen. I think there’s a piece of chocolate cake with your name on it.”
“Really?”
“Hot out of the oven.”
Charlotte delivered generous slices of cake to each of them, then began to pour glasses of milk to go with it.
Tessa licked her lips. Charlotte’s chocolate cake ranked right up there with Oreo biscuits. She picked up her fork, but Hannah yanked the confection away before she could snag a bite.
“Details, little sister,” Hannah said. “Did he kiss you?”
Tessa’s cheeks flamed, and she tried to douse them with a swallow of the ice-cold milk.
Hannah winked at Charlotte. “I think that’s a yes. What do you think?”
“I think you may be right.” Charlotte pulled out a chair and sat down at the small, rectangular table. She forked a bite of cake and waved it in front of Tessa’s mouth. “What I want to know is, was he a good kisser?”
“And you two call me immature.” Tessa gave them a mock glare, then began to laugh. “And he was an excellent kisser, not that I have many to compare him to, mind you.”
“No, of course not.” Hannah pushed Tessa’s plate back and then began to eat her own cake. “Tell us about the whole day, and don’t leave out a moment.”
Tessa told them about the church service, about eating with Mrs. Baxter, and about learning to trap shoot, but she didn’t tell them everything. Some secrets were meant to be tucked away in her heart.
“What did you discover about Reese you didn’t know before?” Charlotte picked up her empty plate and set it in the sink.
“Several things. Besides being an excellent trapshooter, he is like a son to the lady who runs his boardinghouse, and her dog now thinks Reese is his owner.”
Hannah shrugged. “A man who has a dog can’t be all bad.”
“All bad? Reese is all good.” Tessa leaned back in her chair and touched her lips. “He’s sweet and kind and—”
“And you, my sister, are smitten.” Charlotte returned for Tessa’s empty plate. “But remember, no man is perfect. Every man has his flaws and his secrets.”
“Reese isn’t like that. He’s genuine. He has his feet planted firmly on the ground.”
“That’s a good thing, because your head is clearly in the clouds.” Hannah stood and squeezed Tessa’s shoulder. “I’m thrilled for you, Tessa, but like Aunt Sam always says, guard your heart. You can only fall in love for the first time once.”
Love? Is that what she was beginning to feel? Her sisters slipped from the room, but she remained. She stared out the window and watched the electric lights flicker in the house across the way.
She touched her fingers to her lips. After the kiss, they’d sat on the porch and talked another hour. What had she learned about Reese? That he’d been drawn to her from the first time they’d met, and he intended for them to be much more than friends.
Secrets? Not her Reese. Flaws? Nothing she couldn’t handle.
A future together? She certainly hoped so, both in the park and outside of it. Her full heart strained at the seams.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
It was hard to live a lie.
A cold, irritating rain drizzled around Reese as he surveyed the garden he and Tessa were planting. It trickled down the back of his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. He raised the collar of his jacket and tugged it closer, then glanced at Lafayette. The bloodhound plopped on his paws as if he’d lost patience with Reese.
Normally, Lafayette didn’t accompany him, but he’d seemed so restless after three days of rain that Reese thought a day in the park, even a rainy one, would do him good. Now he wasn’t so sure.
He wasn’t sure about a lot of things.
Since Tessa wouldn’t be coming today, he should go into the greenhouse and work, but he had some serious thinking to do, and he needed to do it here in his garden.
Mr. Nussbaumer had given him this area to create his garden, yet it bore little of his mark. All around it he could see bits of Tessa shining through, but his personality? It simply wasn’t there, and pretty soon Tessa was going to see that too. Would she say anything? If she did, how was he going to tell her that he hadn’t been truthful from the beginning?
As Love Blooms Page 14