by Jean Oram
“What if it was just for the sponsors?” Kit’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together. “They’d love that! A hand-painted scene on their bags to show them how special they are to us.”
“How many sponsors are there?” Clint asked.
“Not that many.”
“Five? Fifty?” Maria asked.
“Would you do ten? That would cover our gold level sponsors.”
Maria eyed the bags. Ten would be okay. If she could find a shred of creativity within her. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s a no.” Kit pouted.
“Maybe not,” Clint said, going to stand behind Maria. He started to massage her shoulders, like he’d promised to do if she painted the scooter for him. Instinctively she tightened her muscles, nervous about what accepting the back rub might mean.
Men left when they got bored, and she wasn’t much more than who she was in this moment.
“Relax,” he coaxed.
“I’m trying.”
“It’s just a massage,” he said.
“I know.”
“I’m going to zip over to the neighbor’s,” Kit said, watching them with a smile. “She has something for the silent auction. Back in a flash. Be good!”
“Take your time,” Clint called back.
Kit giggled as the door closed.
Clint leaned forward, his breath tickling Maria’s ear as he whispered, “It’s not a marriage proposal.” He bent farther to catch her eye, then gave her a devilish wink. “Yet.”
She laughed, waving him away. After yesterday’s joke to Miss Lucille, saying they weren’t married yet, and now this, she was having shivers of anticipation over when he might ask her on an official date.
A date.
How had he got her to a place where she was longing for that?
“There really is something about the ocean air that makes you misbehave like a young boy.”
“Maybe it’s the company.” His hands returned to her shoulders.
“I don’t seem to turn you into a brat back in Sweetheart Creek.”
“Back home you’re always racing off somewhere, saving lives and putting out fires.”
She pursed her lips. “I am not.”
His powerful hands found the exact knot she couldn’t seem to work out on her own. She relented, relaxing into his fingers. “And yet here you are again.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re taking care of others instead of yourself. Even with this—” he gestured to the canvas bags “—you’re taking care of others.”
She failed to see a problem with that.
“This is your vacation, is it not?”
“And?”
“And you’re helping people.”
He was still working the knot in her shoulder, and she moaned as the muscle loosened. It was as if years of tension were melting from her back.
Clint went to work on the left shoulder, and she rolled her neck to the other side, giving him more room for his large hands to manipulate the tightness.
“That’s from carrying everyone,” he said, his voice deep and rich in Maria’s ear.
“But who would I be if I wasn’t helping?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “That’s who I was raised to be. That’s who I am. People leave holes and I fill them.”
“You do.” His voice was tender, with no hint of judgment, and his acknowledgment brought a wash of emotion.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. But why not combine the two?”
“The two what?”
“You doing things for you, and this volunteer work. Do them together.”
“You lost me.”
“Paint, Maria.” He sat in the chair beside her.
“I’m not—”
He shushed her. “It doesn’t have to be a new career or for a bigger purpose. It can be for fun. I saw you with that ornament in Coastal Creations. The total concentration, the small smile playing at your lips. You enjoyed it. Time flew, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. We’ll pick up what you need so you can release your inner artist. It’ll be a two-for-one deal.”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “And if I say no?”
“Then I’ll paint them.”
She laughed, thinking what joyful fun creations he might make. “I think I’d like that.”
“Maria, that was a threat.”
She laughed even harder.
Clint slid his hands across her shoulders, turning her so her back was to him again. His arms went across her collarbone as he pulled her against his chest. He was hugging her, she realized, relishing his warmth against her right shoulder and part of her spine, his arms holding her close as his cheek nestled in the crook of her neck.
It was an odd feeling, and it reminded her of when the boys were adolescents. They’d ambush her with a quick hug from behind, needing the contact, but not the full-on mother hug that would embarrass them.
And yet this was different. She could lean on Clint, let it all go.
“Who would I be if I didn’t do these things?” she asked, curious to hear his answer.
“You would be you.”
“But who is that?”
His arms tightened around her. “You didn’t believe me when I told you who I see?” Clint’s embrace loosened like a knot under water, flowing away as he shifted to see her better. “Or were you just not listening?” His tone was teasing, but he reached across her face, stroking a thumb over her right cheek, and she shivered. The gesture was a test. A move that could be brushed off or taken as something more intimate.
She waited to see if he would do it again, what his next move would be.
“You weren’t listening, were you?” he scolded. “Or maybe you just love hearing good things said about yourself.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Maria, and I’d be honored to be your date.”
“You would?” she asked, amusement lacing her voice. When was the last time a man had been honored to go somewhere with her? “Wait, are you avoiding my question?”
“Yes, because I hate to repeat myself. You need to relax and enjoy yourself.” His tone was serious but playful, and she wasn’t sure how to take him. “Unfortunately, though, I can’t be your date for the gala.”
“We’ll both be home before then.”
Silence stretched between them. No doubt he was thinking the same thing—what would happen when they returned home? Would they ignore each other? Try to sort out how to pursue this friendship?
Friendship. It already felt like more than that.
“Instead we’ll have to have our own date tomorrow night before my flight. I’ll borrow Jeff’s truck and pick you up at five.”
“Wait.” Maria shut her eyes, backtracking through the conversation. “A date?” She leaned forward and turned as he released her, studying his expression. She couldn’t read his tone, but knew his eyes would give him away. Or at least hoped they would.
He had a bemused expression, the kindness in his eyes letting her know she could be herself with him, question things, make demands, and never affront him. But was he serious about a date? He knew this thing they were doing would turn into a mess once they were home.
Wouldn’t it?
“Go with it, Maria,” he said, his eyes dancing. “If I have to trick you into going out with me, then let it be. I already said yes.”
She chuckled, delighted by his ploy. He smiled back, the skin around his dark eyes crinkling. It was difficult to be too serious for too long while near him. He brought life and joy with him everywhere he went.
She knew he was being extra charming to woo her, but she’d also known him for years and knew this was a big part of who he was. Naturally. Even when she wasn’t around.
She caught herself leaning closer, waiting, wondering, dreaming. Clint would make a fine boyfriend. She already knew that. She enjo
yed spending time with him; he made her laugh, was sweet and thoughtful, and felt like someone she could pour her heart out to.
She caught herself and straightened. “You know that anything that happens here won’t make it back to Sweetheart Creek. My boys…” She paused, thinking how they might react if she came home with a boyfriend. And how would it work, bringing him to the ranch that had always belonged to Wylders?
“Your sons are adults,” Clint said. “And so are you. And so am I.”
“And I don’t think I could bear inviting drama into my life right now.”
“Then let’s not make it dramatic.”
She felt a stir of discontentment inside. “We’re too old. Our time has passed.” She stood, feeling a great tearing in her heart. “I’m sorry. I can’t pretend I’m ready for something like this.”
“How about I simply escort you to dinner tomorrow?”
“Clint…”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. What happens between us in Indigo Bay—”
“Will be magnificent, spectacular, and something we will never forget.” Clint had stood up as well. He reached for her hand and held it lightly. “Know that if I fall in love with you here, I’m taking that home with me. Life is short, Maria. So here’s the truth.” He studied their hands for a beat before looking up, determination in his steady gaze. “I’m fighting for you whether you’re ready or not.”
Maria, still dazed from Clint’s proclamation, chucked tubes of paint at random into her basket.
“Are you sure you need this much pink?” Kittim asked, holding up a handful of reddish hues.
“What?”
“What did Clint say to you before we left? You’re on a different planet, and it seems like it might be a hostile one.”
Maria blinked away her thoughts and focused on her friend, the craft store and her basket. Kit had returned from the neighbor’s moments after Clint had proclaimed he wasn’t giving up on Maria and a romance. She’d said the first thing she could think of to Kit.
Paint.
She needed paint for the bags. Immediately. Before her ideas dried up.
Her friend had squealed in excitement and swept her off like Maria had hoped she would.
The problem was, Maria didn’t particularly want to create something for each bag, but she’d needed space. How could Clint be so sure? How could he be ready to fight for her? It had to be lingering feelings from his health scare. He was primed to leap on anything that moved and hang on tight in fear of losing it.
Maria’s phone buzzed in her pocket.
“Is that Levi again?” Kit asked.
She pulled out the cell and glanced at the screen. He’d already called her once and she’d ignored it. She nodded and went back to selecting paint, only this time with more care and attention.
“You know I don’t mind if you pick up. I mean, if there’s an emergency…” Kit was watching her from the corner of her eyes.
“There isn’t.”
The phone continued to buzz in Maria’s pocket.
“Did the boys say something?”
“I’m trying to have a vacation.”
Feeling Kit’s eyes on her, she explained, “They keep asking me about every little thing like they’re afraid to make a decision without me, but I know they know how to run the place. I don’t know where I fit into their worlds any longer, but this constant asking me about all these small things isn’t working. And then Clint had the gall to say he wants me and will fight for me. How is that going to work? He wants to date. Like, seriously date.” She threw up her hands, rattling everything in the basket slung over her arm.
She was trying to relax, but still had one foot back on the ranch, still needed that sense of control over everything. Why couldn’t she step away for a few days?
“You need to take a breath, woman,” Kittim said with a light laugh. “You need some time for yourself or something.”
“I’m trying! That’s why I’m here.”
Kittim gnawed on her bottom lip, her eyes wide.
“I’m sorry.” Maria sighed and added a few brushes to her basket, but they slid out the holes and onto the floor.
“Hey, no need to apologize.” Kit folded her in a quick hug before she could stoop down to collect them. “I get it.”
“I feel like I need boundaries between me and the ranch when I’m away. I want to be important to them, but I also want some peace. I’ve already learned that I need the ranch in my life, but this all feels so difficult.”
Her phone buzzed yet again. Kit reached over and fished it out of Maria’s pocket, then tapped the screen a few times and put it to her ear. Moments later she said, “Levi, honey, it’s Kittim. You need to let your mother enjoy her vacation, okay?” She listened. “It’s a tractor. Fix it or buy a new one.” She listened for another moment. “I know, but you’re a big boy. You can settle this. Your mom left you in charge of the ranch for a reason. Figure it out and let her enjoy her last two days, okay?” She rolled her eyes as she listened some more. “I have a feeling you already know what she wants done with the machine.”
Maria nodded.
“So quit dragging your feet and make it happen. Or at the very least deal with it all when she gets home.” She tapped the end call button with a flourish and handed back the phone.
“How did that go?”
“You know… Whine, whine, whine.” She winked. “It’s fine. He’s just trying to do the right thing.”
They moved toward the checkout. “So, solved that one. Want to talk about your identity issues next, or should we jump right into your love life?”
“Neither of those are as easy as telling Levi to lay off for a few days.”
They laughed and Maria pulled Kit into a one-armed hug. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” She studied her as they faced each other in the lineup. “So? What are you going to do about Clint?”
“I have absolutely no clue.”
“Make a wish and hope it comes true?”
Maria’s thoughts floated toward the Christmas tree set up in downtown Indigo Bay. Maybe she should have made a second wish the other day.
“He stayed on here a few extra days, you know,” Maria said, without thought.
“For you?”
She nodded. They’d reached the front of the line, and she unloaded her basket for the checkout clerk.
“And?”
“He wants to pursue things. Seriously. Even back home.”
“And?”
“And it won’t work, obviously.” Surely her friend understood all the reasons that idea was a nonstarter.
“You think the boys would be upset?”
She nodded.
“They’re adults, Maria.” Kit rolled her eyes and swiped her credit card to pay for the items. “They need to get over themselves.”
Maria held in a painful breath.
They had gotten over Roy and Sophia, but how often did they get together with their dad? Not regularly. Roy might be okay with that, but Maria wanted to see her boys as often as possible, even though they were all grown up.
And if her actions upset them while they were all living on the same ranch, how would that go? Not well. And not worth it.
“Do you need me to call Levi?” Kit began fishing in Maria’s pocket and she laughed and stepped out of reach.
“I’ll do it, you know,” Kit threatened, taking the shopping bag. “You deserve love. Anyway, they’re probably just not used to the idea of you with someone else. Or, for that matter, their mom wanting and needing love.” They headed out the door into the afternoon warmth, where the smell of ocean salt filled the air. “How did they react to Roy and Sophia?”
Maria shrugged. “Okay.”
“Are you too afraid to demand the same level of respect from them?”
“It’s different.”
“Bull crap. That thinking keeps women in their place.” They moved across the parking lot to Kit’s car. “Go find Clint. Kiss him. S
ee what happens. Let the future in. And you know what I always say about the future.”
“What?”
“It’s in the future. Don’t worry about it.”
Maria just shook her head.
“I’m serious. Quit being a chicken and go.” Kit gave her a push as though she had a destination in mind.
“Go to Clint?”
“Yes.”
“And do what?”
“What I just told you to do.” Kit unlocked her driver’s-side door, then opened it with an exasperated flourish.
“Now?”
“Now.”
“I don’t know.”
Kit tossed the bag of supplies onto the passenger seat. “Since when has Maria Wylder been afraid of anything? Those boys can handle more than you realize. Quit babying them and go get your life back. Starting with that man who makes you light up every time you think of him.”
She got into the car and let down the passenger-side window. Maria tried the door. Still locked.
“I’m sorry, but you need some tough love right now, sweetie.” Kit gave her a forgive-me smile and put the car in gear. “You can thank me later!”
Maria, too stunned to do anything, watched as her friend drove away.
Chapter 7
“Kit says I need to get my life back.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end, and Maria wondered if her cell phone had lost its connection to Clint’s. She supposed, though, there wasn’t much of a reply to that statement. It also wasn’t much of a conversation opener when you were calling someone you’d just fled from.
Did she really light up every time she thought about Clint, as Kit had said? She checked her reflection in the craft store window. She was smiling.
He’d made a grand proclamation she couldn’t handle. One that had been completely over the top for this stage of their relationship, and her best friend had just driven off and left her in the middle of town.
And she was smiling.
She needed to get her head checked.
Finally, Clint made a sound on the other end of the line, letting her know he’d heard her statement about needing to reclaim the interests in her life.
“She left me outside the craft store.”
He made another small sound of acknowledgment.