Picture Perfect (River's End Ranch Book 45)

by Cindy Caldwell

  All the nights he’d spent with her family—he’d even kissed her. How could she have been so completely and utterly wrong about a human being?

  She shook her head and turned off the water, reaching for a towel. When she was done drying her hair and had gotten dressed, she realized that none of it had gotten the sadness she’d felt out of her heart.

  She pulled on a sweater and some jeans, tugging on her cowboy boots last. She reached for her red jacket—maybe that would help her feel better—but when she looked in the mirror, all she could see was her puffy eyes from crying most of the afternoon. Between Bernard and the bears, it had been a marathon crying session, and her dad had peeked in her bedroom occasionally.

  “You ready to talk?” she heard him say as she reached for her car keys.

  She looked up into her father’s kind eyes, and just didn’t have the heart to burden him with any of this. He’d worked so hard to cope with her mother’s death—and this certainly didn’t compare—but she thought maybe it was better to go for a drive. Besides, she really didn’t have the time to talk to him if she was going to get out of there before Bernard came. If he came.

  “I’m worried about you, honey. Don’t go. Besides, you’ll miss the Olympics.”

  She smiled as best she could and squeezed his hand.

  “I’m all right, Dad. Just had some bad news today. I’m going to head over to Olivia and Fred’s for the night. I haven’t seen them in a long time, and I wanted to catch up.”

  Her father crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Opal Hamilton, you saw them last night. What’s going on.”

  “Oh,” Opal said. Her head was so fuzzy she couldn’t even make up a simple white lie. “Right. Well, I want to go over anyway. Don’t wait up for me. In fact, I might even spend the night.”

  Her dad shook his head and kissed her cheek. She smiled sadly at him and headed for her car.

  “Opal, can I talk to you?”

  She’d just unlocked her car when she heard his voice behind her, and she stiffened.

  Her instinct was to keep going, to drive away and never look back, but she just couldn’t. She cared very much for Bernard, and they’d shared so much together—and if he finally wanted to talk, she’d let him.

  She turned slowly and leaned against the car.

  “Yes?” she said as she squared her shoulders and waited to hear what he had to say.

  “Opal, I—I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did earlier. I really didn’t. I...I think I meant...”

  Yes?” she asked again. He hadn’t been able to talk about his family, or his feelings, since she’d met him and she understood that it might be difficult. But if he wanted to talk now, she knew she couldn’t do it for him. She couldn’t be in a relationship with someone—were they even in a relationship?—who couldn’t say how they felt, or be concerned about families.

  She sighed when he said, “Can’t we just go back to the way it was? I’m sorry I said anything. My family just isn’t—well, not at all like yours.”

  Opal couldn’t imagine what anyone could have done to him to make him so cold, so distant, and she decided to try one more time. Give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Bernard, why don’t you talk to your mother?”

  “Aw, Opal, it’s complicated,” he said as he looked down at his boots and pulled his beanie further over his ears.

  She waited for what seemed like eons for him to continue, and her hands tingled in the cold as she realized he wasn’t going to.

  “Bernard, it’s pretty clear we don’t have the same values. I love my family, crazy as they are and you won’t even talk to your mother. Or even about her. I don’t know where to go with that.”

  He cleared his throat and stepped closer to her, so close that the frost of their breath mingled.

  “Opal, I can’t. I just can’t. You don’t know my family—my mother.”

  “Bernard, all families are beautiful in some way. Sometimes they just don’t look like it.”

  She looked up into his eyes, and saw the hurt there. She wanted so much for him to confide in her, to share that pain—but she couldn’t wait any longer. If he couldn’t find the strength to trust her after all they’d been through, then he never would. She knew that now.

  “I’m sorry, Bernard. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me enough to share about family. Family is everything,” she said, and it took all she had to get the words out of her mouth.

  She stepped back and got in her car. As she turned over the ignition, she caught his eye and almost changed her mind.

  But she didn’t. She headed out of the gates of the ranch toward her sister’s house, needing to get away and try to outrun her pain.

  The entire drive, she did her absolute best to forget about Bernard’s set jaw and stony face as he said he was fine without a family, and she was fairly successful until she parked the car and opened the door to her sister’s house.

  She made it one step inside before she fell into Olivia’s arms and the tears flowed again.

  Chapter 18

  Bernard stood in the cold as Opal’s taillights disappeared, watching long after she’d gone. He’d never felt so empty before, so useless. Why hadn’t he just told her?

  He glanced at the Chinese food he’d set by the door to Opal and Allen’s cabin, and walked slowly over to the door. He reached down and picked it up, intending to head back to his own cabin to eat alone—like he would be for the rest of his life, apparently—when Allen opened the door.

  “Hey, son, what are you doing out here in the cold? Come on in. The Olympics will be starting soon, and I’m glad for the company.”

  Bernard hesitated for a moment before he followed Allen inside and set the Chinese food on the table.

  “I’d better tell you that Opal’s not here. She had a date with her sister, so if you want to stay it’ll be just you and this old man.”

  Bernard smiled a little, and realized that he truly enjoyed Allen’s company and he’d much rather be here than alone.

  “Yeah, I saw Opal on her way out,” he said as he sat on the stool at the kitchen counter and dropped his head in his hands.

  “Uh-oh,” Allen said. He reached for some plates and forks and set them down on the counter. He reached into the bag and took out several cartons of food and opened them up, shoving spoons inside.

  Bernard watched and wondered if Allen was going to ask what happened. He clearly knew something was wrong. But Opal had asked him all kinds of questions and he hadn’t been able to answer, anyway. So he thought he might as well practice taking the bull by the horns.

  He surprised himself when he started, and surprised even more when the words just rolled off his tongue. He started with the trip up to the knoll with Opal earlier that day, and the bear sighting. He told him all about Belinda’s trip up to the knoll, and his horrible answer to Opal’s question. And he even finished up with his inability to answer Opal’s question again out by the car.

  Allen nodded and said, “Go on,” several times during the story, encouraging him when his resolve started to flag. By the time Bernard was done, Allen had finished eating while Bernard hadn’t even started.

  “Whew,” Bernard said as he reached for the carton of shrimp fried rice and dumped some on his plate.

  Allen leaned back in his bar stool and folded his arms, smiling at Bernard.

  “What?” Bernard asked between bites of shrimp.

  “Now, that didn’t exactly kill you, did it? Not even the parts that talked about feelings. I know that’s a dirty word for some of us men, but I eventually learned while I raised two girls and had a wife I loved very much that talking about feelings isn’t going to kill you.”

  Bernard laughed and took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders as he did. He was surprised how much lighter he felt, just having told Allen part of the story.

  “So, why don’t you want to talk to Opal about your mom? What’s the deal, anyway?” Allen finally asked as
he reached for a carton of ice cream in the freezer, scooping out two helpings and sliding one over to Bernard.

  “Aw, it’s not a very pretty story,” Bernard said as he took a bite of ice cream.

  Allen poured chocolate syrup on his ice cream and handed the bottle to Bernard. “You can’t even imagine how much I’ve heard in my lifetime, living with three women. Some would have your hair standing on end, I can assure you.” He laughed slapped his hand on the counter. “Why don’t you try me?”

  Bernard smothered his ice cream with chocolate and took a deep breath. He thought about what he had to lose if he didn’t talk about it—and realized that it was something that meant more to him than anything ever had before. Maybe if he practiced with Allen, he could tell Opal and she might give him another chance.

  He looked up into Allen’s kind eyes and, taking the biggest breath he ever had in his life, he started.

  He gave a somewhat abbreviated version—he wasn’t ready for all the details—and ended with his current situation with his mother.

  “Whoo, boy, that’s quite a story,” Allen said as he shook his head. “No wonder you’re not too keen on talking with her.”

  Bernard pushed his ice cream bowl away and leaned back on his stool.

  “Now tell me, why are you worried about telling Opal all this?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never told anybody, not the details, anyway. What if she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me after I tell her?”

  Allen threw his head back and laughed.

  “I’ve never seen Opal sweet on anyone the way she is on you, son. I can see it in her eyes. Granted, she’s pretty stubborn, but if she doesn’t want you after this, I’ll eat my hat. But you’ll have to find out for yourself, won’t you?”

  Just then, the anthem of the Olympics sounded, signaling the beginning of tonight’s competitions. Perfect timing, as Bernard had never talked this much about himself in his entire life, and he was happy to change the subject.

  He and Allen sat on the couch, having a couple more bowls of ice cream, and yelled at the TV as they rooted for their favorites.

  As the games came to a close, Bernard yawned. He felt totally drained from their talk earlier and the emotions that had been coursing through him since Opal left.

  “You look tired,” Allen said as he followed him to the door.

  “Who knew talking could be so exhausting,” Bernard said with a laugh as he pulled on his coat.

  “I know, I know,” Allen said as he clapped his hand on Bernard’s shoulder. “If my wife’s death didn’t kill me, talking to Opal sure won’t kill you. Every time you do something that difficult, it makes you stronger, and even better, it makes you closer to the people you love. To your family.”

  “Family,” Bernard repeated slowly as he opened the door and stepped outside.

  “Now, Opal’s pretty stubborn. I can’t guarantee what she’s going to do, but I have to tell you, just by telling me this story tonight, it’s going to make you a better person. Do it for you, not for Opal, and the rest will take its course.”

  Bernard thanked Allen for the ice cream and Allen thanked him for dinner in return before he closed the door.

  Bernard walked slowly to his cabin with his hands in his pockets. He kicked a couple of rocks and looked up at the stars. He really did feel better having talked about his family, his childhood, and he was grateful for Allen’s kind ear while he worked these things out.

  He wondered how much lighter he’d feel if he finally addressed the real issue—his mother.

  He walked into his bedroom and sat down on the bed. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out the letter his mom had sent and read it over once more. She’d asked if they could talk, saying she wanted to apologize and she missed him. He’d shoved it away in a drawer when he’d gotten it over a month ago, but somehow he felt like he needed to look at it again now.

  Chapter 19

  Dad, I’d really prefer if Bernard didn’t join us tonight. I’ve invited Olivia and Fred, and they’re bringing appetizers. Turns out they’re curling fans, too. I’d rather it just be family,” Opal said.

  She’d spent the night with Olivia and Fred, and try as they might, she just wasn’t willing to give Bernard another chance. He’d had a lot of them, and wasn’t even remotely trying to meet her half way. And she couldn’t bear silence.

  “Maybe he’s just having a hard time finding words,” Fred had said earlier at breakfast. “Some men don’t ever learn how to talk about feelings. I’m not sure I would have without my mom always encouraging me.”

  Opal’s heart had tugged a bit at that, but she maintained her resolve. He’d had more than enough chances, and she’d really tried. It broke her heart, and she’d cried all the way home from Riston again, but now she was doing her best to hold it together. She missed him already, and curling wouldn’t be the same without him, but she just couldn’t bear the thought of being around him when they couldn’t be a couple.

  “Opal, don’t you think maybe you’re being too hard on the guy?” her father said as he looked away and basted the chicken he had baking in the oven.

  “Not you, too, Dad,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Family’s supposed to be on my side.”

  Allen closed the oven and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at his daughter.

  “I am now and always will be on your side, daughter. You just don’t always realize it, apparently.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, and she headed back into her room to finish getting dressed.

  She’d been flooded with emotions lately, and she leaned closer to the mirror. She thought she actually saw dark circles under her eyes, and she stood up and ran a brush through her hair, hoping that her heart wouldn’t be so tender forever. But from the other room, she heard the Olympic theme on a commercial, and her heart ached all over again.

  She pulled on her boots and straightened her sweater just as the doorbell rang. She looked forward to Fred and Olivia coming over—she could use the distraction and she wasn’t sure that curling was going to be enough.

  “Can you get that, Opal?” her father asked, his head bent over the oven again as he slid in a pan of scalloped potatoes. She smiled at what a good cook he’d become since—well, she didn’t want to think about why. She was just glad it had happened.

  Olivia and Fred smiled as she opened the door wide to let them in. Fred came in first and Olivia followed. Opal was just about to close the door when she looked back and saw Bernard standing on the mat, a big bouquet of flowers in his hand.

  Opal looked back toward her sister and brother-in-law, who were studiously not looking in her direction and talking quickly and animatedly to their father, who was showing off the chicken in the oven as if nothing was awry.

  She’d have to deal with them later, but now she needed to figure out how to get Bernard to go away.

  Pushing the door closed a bit so that just her head poked out, she said, “Bernard, I think it’s really best if you don’t join us tonight. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

  Her eyes met his and he held her gaze. She saw a little flicker of something in his eyes, and it seemed to give him more resolve. He leaned forward, the flowers still between them.

  “Opal, please, can I just talk to you just for a little bit? I promise, if you don’t like what I say I’ll go away and never come back.”

  His eyes looked so hopeful that she didn’t have the heart to say no.

  She sighed and opened the door, turning toward the living room where each member of her family quickly turned away, pretending that they hadn’t been listening. Boy, were they going to have a word later.

  Not wanting to make this any more public than it already was, Opal said, “Bernard and I are going for a walk.”

  Fred, Olivia and Allen all said almost at the same time, “Great. Good. Have fun,” and Opal would have laughed if she hadn’t been so sad—it was truly comical.

/>   She’d opened the door and Bernard reached for her coat and helped her into it. Olivia reached for the flowers and smiled at Bernard.

  “These are lovely, Bernard. How thoughtful. And sweet. And...”

  “All right, all right, we’re leaving,” Opal said before they could make any bigger fools of themselves.

  Bernard closed the door behind him, a smile tugging at his lips.

  “What’s so funny?” Opal asked as they walked toward the dock. The weather had been warming up and she hadn’t even grabbed gloves or a hat. The full moon sparkled on the lake as they sat down on the nearest bench.

  “What did you want to talk about, Bernard?” she asked as turned to look at her.

  “Opal, I’ve had time to think about this. A lot of time, actually, as I can’t concentrate on anything else. If you’re still interested, I’d like to answer your question.”

  Opal held her breath. If she said yes, would her heart be crushed just one more time? Fred’s words rang in her ears—maybe he just didn’t know how and needed some practice.

  She exhaled and turned to look at him. Their eyes met, and she wanted more than anything to get inside, to know more, to see the real Bernard. All of him—good and bad.

  “Yes, Bernard, I am definitely still interested,” she said, hoping that her decision was a good one.

  He smiled, and the relief she saw in his eyes answered her question. She reached for his hand as he began to speak, and he talked for almost an hour, although it seemed like minutes to her.

  He began with his memories of his father before he died, and how his mother had changed after his father had passed. He described his summers in France, and his time at boarding school, and how lonely he’d been.

  Her heart ached for him as he spoke, and several times, she heard herself say, “Oh, no,” not able to imagine how lost he must have felt.