Sweet Joymaker

by Jean Oram

  “How was your afternoon?” Kit asked Maria.

  “Good. I went as far as the Morrison Mansion B&B. My legs have that wonderful feeling you get when you’ve pushed them a little.”

  “You seem pleased,” Kittim said, a small smile toying with her lips as though aware Maria was holding back a secret.

  “And I bumped into someone from back home,” Maria blurted, wanting to talk about Clint. She would call Fiona, but worried that her friend might inadvertently start some gossip, or expect Maria to engage in something she wasn’t ready for. Namely a relationship.

  “Really? Who?”

  “Clint Walker. He’s my mechanic.” She felt a blush heat her cheeks and a wash of possessiveness by claiming him as hers. Technically, he was her mechanic, but several hundred other people’s, too.

  “And he’s cute,” Kittim stated.

  “You know him?”

  “I can tell by your expression.”

  Maria looked out the window, watching a woman walk down the sidewalk with purpose, her little white dog trotting alongside. “He seems different here. More relaxed. Youthful.” She gave her head a shake. A youthful fifty-nine-year-old was good, but not if he was being a daredevil.

  But since when was boogie boarding classified as a daredevil activity? She used to take part in the rodeo circuit, and knew what risk-taking looked like. Watching a cowboy try to stay atop a fifteen-hundred-pound angry bull for eight seconds, for example. Was she looking for excuses to disregard Clint, or had she aged beyond her years?

  Probably both.

  “Are you interested?” Kit asked.

  “I can’t imagine adding a man to my life at this stage. It’s too complicated. We’re almost sixty, and I have the boys and the ranch. Carmichael isn’t getting any younger, either.”

  “Your father-in-law?”

  She nodded. “He’s still out on the ranch.” She added with a half laugh, “Levi, Myles and Brant are home, too.” All the more reason it would be ridiculous to add a new man to her life.

  “That’s too much testosterone for me.”

  “Don’t forget the two hired hands who live on the next section of land and come by for some meals.”

  Kittim just shook her head, then rested her chin on her hands.

  “Clint was hinting we should do something tomorrow, and I basically said yes. But I don’t know… What if he wants more than I do?”

  “So you don’t like him that much, then? Or just not romantically?”

  Caroline came to their table with two plates. “No second chance for us older gals?” She gave them an apologetic look. “Sorry, I overheard the last bit. And I totally understand. I’ve been single for so long I figure what’s the use in trying?” She put down their meals. “Then again, if Tom Selleck came in here… Or that cowboy with that wonderful mustache and gravelly deep voice. What’s his name again?”

  “Sam Elliott,” Kit and Maria said in unison.

  The trio went silent for a moment, as though in contemplation about how their lives might change if the handsome silver fox walked in and asked them out.

  “He might be worth upsetting my routines,” Caroline said with a wink.

  “Maria got divorced this year. Her husband’s remarried.”

  “Men move fast,” Maria said.

  Caroline squeezed Maria’s shoulder in support. “I’m sorry, honey. Divorces are hard. Even harder at our age. I hope you’re doing all right. Financially and whatnot.”

  “We both moved off the ranch, but I moved a tiny home onto the property and live there now. So all is as it should be.” Her smile didn’t feel convincing, and she couldn’t figure out why. She should be happy. She was right back where she’d started. And this time with one less person to please. She rarely even missed Roy, causing her to realize just how much they’d drifted apart over the years.

  When she’d returned to the ranch, even Carmichael had been happy. The old cowboy had smiled and almost hugged her.

  It felt right being home again.

  “Good for you,” Caroline said. “Don’t let him kick you out of your own home and life.”

  “I was no good as a town girl,” Maria said, waving her hand. “I’m glad the ranch was still there, and the boys welcomed me back.”

  “Of course they did,” Kit said. She let out a quick laugh. “They needed their cook and maid.”

  “They’ve grown up a lot.” And true, she had stepped back into the kitchen, but she didn’t mind cooking for the group of them. It was what she’d done for a long time.

  “I’ll bet you also moved right back into the caretaker role.”

  “I am their mother.”

  Caroline murmured a sound of understanding.

  “I think it’s time to work on yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” Maria said.

  “I meant,” Kit said, her tone soothing, “take some time for yourself and rediscover what makes you smile rather than work, work, work.”

  “I like the ranch.”

  “And it’s work.”

  “I just spent six months living in town and reconnecting with myself.”

  “Did you? You said you were bored.”

  “I was.”

  “Then you were doing it wrong. You’re supposed to find joy.”

  “I have joy.”

  “Does the ranch bring you joy?”

  “It brings me purpose.”

  “But no joy?”

  Maria heaved an impatient sigh.

  “It sounds like life put you through the ringer,” Caroline said sympathetically.

  “She had her trust and her heart broken,” Kit said. “And now it’s time for her to celebrate herself.”

  “Treat yourself,” Caroline said with a nod.

  “Enjoy the freedom.”

  “Do the unexpected! Throw your arms in the air from the front seat of a convertible,” Caroline said enthusiastically.

  “Only if it won’t throw your back out,” Kit cautioned, and Maria couldn’t help but chuckle. “And your seat belt is done up. By the way,” she added, “do you still have that Mustang?”

  “It wasn’t a convertible. And I doubt it still runs.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Standing up in a moving vehicle would be asking for trouble,” Caroline agreed. “You want to live wild and free, but you also don’t want to become a statistic.”

  Maria giggled.

  “I say what happens in Indigo Bay stays in Indigo Bay!” Kit declared, catching glances from nearby tables.

  Caroline’s eyebrows shot up before she turned her attention back to Maria, her lips twitching with amusement. “Well, then. That sounds like permission to go live a little. Have some fun. Work on yourself, and if there’s a handsome man interested in you, explore that avenue.”

  Maria shook her head, her feather earrings tickling her neck. “I’m here for a small break and that’s all.”

  “She doesn’t love him,” Kit said, somewhat tragically, to Caroline. “He’s from Sweetheart Creek, too.” The gleam in her gaze turned slightly wicked. “I think he followed her here. And she thinks he’s cute. But she’s scared.”

  “He didn’t follow me. He has a friend here, and they’re working on a project for the gala. And I’m not scared.”

  “Have they been on a date?” Caroline whispered to Kit, as though Maria wasn’t sitting right there, looking at her chicken potpie as it cooled.

  “Not yet,” Kit said.

  “And not going to,” Maria stated.

  “Then of course she doesn’t love him yet,” Caroline continued, ignoring her. “She hasn’t had a chance to fall. You don’t fall in love without a date. He needs a chance to prove himself to her and show her there’s more to life than her ex-husband.”

  “Preach it, girl!” Kit said, and they both turned back to Maria.

  “No,” she said, her head already shaking. “No.”

  Although discovering more than Roy was a bit intriguing. They’d married when
she was twenty and she hadn’t, technically, dated anyone but him. At least not seriously, seeing as her first boyfriend had been awful. All handsy and crushing her self-esteem with his comments and thoughts on how she should behave around him. She shuddered. No wonder Roy had seemed so amazing. And he had been, too.

  But years of running the ranch together, falling into bed not out of passion but exhaustion from raising five boys and running their own business had sent them down separate roads and ultimately, apart.

  “Go on the date,” Caroline suggested.

  “He hasn’t asked me on a date,” Maria said. Because she’d closed that door so fast he hadn’t had a chance. Because he would have otherwise, wouldn’t he?

  “He wants to do something with you tomorrow,” Kit pointed out. “And I’m going to be working all day.”

  “Sounds like the perfect time for the two of you to go on a date,” Caroline said with a smile.

  “Can we not call it that?” Maria said, dropping her head in her hands.

  “Fine. How about calling it an exploratory expedition?” Kit giggled.

  Amused at her friend’s persistence, Maria rolled her eyes. “And what if I fall in love with this man? Then what will I do when we return to Sweetheart Creek? My boys will freak out. And I can’t very well have him move onto my ex-husband’s family ranch.”

  “Why not?” Caroline asked. “Your ex doesn’t live there. You do. And if you live on that ranch, I’m betting you’re putting effort into it. I believe labor ownership is real.”

  “So do I,” chimed in a waitress who was walking by, her arm stacked with plates.

  “There are exceptions to labor equaling ownership!” Caroline teased, giving her employee a good-natured smile, which was returned.

  Maria thought about her tiny home located in the yard of the Sweet Meadows Ranch. She had her own space away from the boys. Maybe that would make it less weird if she started dating.

  What was she thinking? She wasn’t looking to replace Roy. She was happy being single.

  “I love that you’re already thinking about living with this man.” Kit said with a sly smile.

  “I’m just problem solving. There are a lot of implications to dating again. The boys freaked out when they thought Clint was interested in me.”

  “Your sons noticed his interest?” Kit leaned forward.

  “He’s helpful and kind,” Maria insisted, her cheeks heating. “He does little things for me and my car. My boys are busy, and he knows that.”

  The two women shared a knowing smile, and Caroline said, “Your suppers are getting cold. I’ll let the two of you continue your chat.” She gave Maria’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Let me know if you need any Indigo Bay date ideas.”

  Maria huffed.

  “Quit thinking about the future and just enjoy each day,” Kit recommended. “If you fall in love you fall in love. If you don’t, then no worries, right?”

  “Sweetheart Creek is a small town.” Maria had felt the sting of everyone knowing her and Roy’s business, and she knew it was impossible to isolate herself from her ex. Every time she went anywhere it felt as though she was thrown against that constant pain once again. She didn’t want a repeat. “Clint is the only mechanic, and my car is nearly a decade old.”

  “That’s a weak excuse.”

  “It’s true! Where would I go?”

  “Date him. If things go south, buy yourself a brand-new car guaranteed not to break down.”

  Chapter 3

  Maria thought Clint’s small moped—correction: scooter, because apparently there was a difference when talking to gearheads—was cute. That morning she’d taken a deep breath and texted him to see if he wanted to meet up for lunch.

  Not because she was looking for a date, but because her curiosity had basically strong-armed her into it. Besides, she had nothing better to do and why not spend time with someone who made her feel good? Wasn’t that the purpose of a vacation? Feeling good?

  Now she was out behind the Morrison Mansion contemplating an old scooter with flaking paint. It didn’t look like much, but it purred like her old car had after Clint had given it his magical touch. She wondered what else he could make purr.

  “What do you think?” he asked his friend Jeff as he wiped his hands on a grease-stained rag. They stepped back and contemplated the machine.

  The scooter was low to the ground, with a flat front that served as a bug and wind guard. It had handlebars similar to a bicycle, one giant headlight, no windshield and a padded seat with a smaller one behind. The floorboards were ample, giving the driver what looked like a fairly comfortable ride when the seats weren’t worn to tatters.

  “I can’t believe how smooth the engine sounds,” Jeff said.

  “It didn’t need as much as we thought it might.”

  “First time that’s happened,” his friend said with a chuckle. “I think it’s time for a test drive before we talk paint.”

  “Might want to borrow some cushions from my wicker chairs on the porch,” Jeff’s wife said wryly as she joined them, gesturing to the scooter’s seats. She’d been showing some volunteers the B&B’s ballroom, which they were going to decorate for the weekend’s fundraising gala. One volunteer had followed her out.

  As Jeff leaned close to give Sonja a kiss, the wind tousled her dark blond hair. The two had found love again in a second marriage, and it reminded Maria of Kit and Caroline’s encouragement for herself. She almost laughed out loud. She wasn’t about to find this. Just a glimpse told her this pair had something rare.

  The other woman cleared her throat and a flash of exasperation danced across Sonja’s face.

  “I’m Miss Lucille with the Ashland Belle Society. I’m checking all the silent auction items for their income potential for the shelter. Your little motorbike idea is very last-minute.” She straightened her spine, nose high.

  Miss Lucille Sanderson did still exist, almost exactly as Maria remembered her. Slender, impeccably dressed and snooty as could be. As her father used to say, only the good die young.

  Introductions were made between Clint, Maria and Miss Lucille—who didn’t remember the ol’ cowgirl from the west. Naturally.

  “She wants to see the scooter,” Sonja said apologetically.

  Clint and Jeff both swept an arm out to showcase the machine, which instantly sputtered and stalled, as though in protest of Lucille’s appraisal.

  “It’s… disreputable,” she declared with a sniff.

  “The throttle probably needs adjusting,” Clint said, crouching to look at the machine.

  “Did you change the fuel filter?” Jeff asked.

  Clint nodded.

  “I trust this is not the scooter you’re thinking of donating to the fundraiser.” Miss Lucille hugged her big purse closer and a fluffy white head popped out of it and gave a small yip of disapproval. “Hush, Princess. I know. This is foolishness, but it can’t be helped.”

  “It’s not finished,” Jeff said, his tone flat.

  “We have a verified movie star coming, you know. Eric Slade. We must put our best foot forward.” She eyed the scooter with disdain.

  “It’ll be looking so fresh, Miss Lucille, we’ll even have you bidding on it,” Clint joked.

  “I doubt that. A woman of my means doesn’t ride in anything with less than four wheels.”

  Maria swallowed a smile, then almost choked on a bubble of laughter when she saw Clint doing the same. She preferred doors, a roof and four solid wheels on the ground herself, but wasn’t a snob about it.

  “It was against my judgment,” Miss Lucille continued, “to agree to holding the gala in such a small mansion. I fear nobody is taking this fundraiser seriously.”

  Sonja looked down, making it obvious she’d taken a bit of a browbeating from this woman over having her B&B as the hosting site.

  “I assure you this scooter will raise quite a bit of money for the animal shelter,” Clint said firmly, his mirth gone now. “I’ve come all the way from T
exas to work on it. As has my artist friend here.” He clapped an arm around Maria, pulling her close. “Together we’ll make this magnificent. I’ll get it running impeccably and she’ll make it shine, so unique it will be irresistible to those with deep pockets.”

  Maria’s stomach flipped. “What?”

  Clint nudged her. “Right, Maria?”

  “No, I’m not…”

  “Not going to share our big secret? You’re so good about these things, but I have a feeling we can trust Miss Lucille. Please put her at ease and reassure her about our fabulous plan.”

  Maria’s gaze darted to the woman’s. Her eyes had narrowed, but she was listening.

  “Retro is in,” Maria blurted. “A robin’s egg blue will make this scooter quite popular, especially in a beach town.”

  Clint grinned. “Perfect color! See? A few coats of robin’s egg blue will have this thing winning the cutest-scooter-on-the-coast award.”

  Miss Lucille sniffed again. “That’s hardly unique.”

  “Well, we can’t tell you the entire plan…” Clint said.

  Miss Lucille gave Sonja a hard look. “Don’t let them disappoint me. This event reflects on our entire town. And if you want your B&B to be nominated for the Indigo Bay Best Business of the Year award, you’d better make sure everything goes perfectly.”

  “Hey, now…” Clint said, but his friend placed a hand on his arm, holding him back as Miss Lucille marched off.

  “It sure will, Miss Lucille!” Jeff called after her, then added under his breath, “Don’t worry about her. Her little society isn’t even involved with the gala other than to offer a spa gift certificate as an auction item.”

  “Are you okay?” Maria asked Sonja, noting her bleak expression.

  It lifted immediately. “Sorry, I was just imagining her gaining fifty pounds overnight.” She patted her own curvy figure with a sly smile. “She’s so vain she’d never step outside again and all our problems would be solved.”

  “She’d still have access to her telephone,” Jeff muttered wryly. “Well, sorry to say, my lunch break is over.” He turned to Clint. “Why don’t you run it around this afternoon, tinker a bit more. See what else this baby might need before we paint it. If it’s ready, we can start prepping it, otherwise we’ll keep turning wrenches.”