by Gina Wilkins
A white delivery van pulled up in front of Shane’s white-frame bungalow late the next afternoon. Shane was just walking up to the house after working in the barn, and he was grimy and sweaty. He had planned on heading straight for the shower. The sight of the van pulling to a stop in his driveway made him pause.
He spoke to the black-and-white border collie at his heels, who had gone on alert at the sight of a stranger in the driveway. “Chill out, Paulie.”
In response to the familiar command, the dog relaxed and began to wag its tail.
“Can I help you?” Shane asked the young man who climbed out of the driver’s door of the van.
“Are you Shane Walker?”
“Yes.”
The delivery driver nodded. “Got something for you.”
Shane was startled when the driver pulled an arrangement of cut flowers out of the van. Only then did he notice the sign painted on the side of the vehicle—Francine’s Flowers And Gifts. The driver dumped the large arrangement unceremoniously into Shane’s dirty hands. “Enjoy,” he said.
Shane gaped at the multicolored blooms arranged in a clear glass vase. “You’re—uh—sure these are for me?”
“Says Shane Walker on the tag. This address.” The young man winked. “If some woman sent me flowers, I’d say she was giving me a pretty clear message.”
Balancing the vase in his left arm, Shane dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out a five—the only cash he had with him at the moment. “Er—thanks,” he said, offering the bill to the delivery driver and hoping he had the etiquette right. He’d never been the recipient of flowers before.
The driver cheerfully pocketed the money and climbed back into his van. A minute later, Shane was standing alone outside his house, the scents of carnations, mums and other blooms wafting around him. Curious, he carried the arrangement inside and set it on a table. The fall colors matched the rusts and creams he and Cassie had selected when he’d decorated his cozy cottage.
He plucked a card from deep within the bouquet. He hoped it hadn’t been Gayla who’d sent them. He’d taken the curvy redhead out a time or two, but had backed off when she’d seemed to make more of his asking her out than he had intended. Flowers from her at this point would certainly be awkward, since that would be a sign that she hadn’t taken his hint about their future together—or lack of one.
But it hadn’t been Gayla who’d sent the arrangement, he saw at once. Printed in flowery, engraved script at the top of the small cardboard rectangle was the message, “Thinking of you.” Written below in a familiar scrawl were two simple words, “Love, Kelly.”
Shane was both touched and bemused by her gesture. She had sent the flowers because his mother had died. Coming from Kelly, the flowers seemed more than the standard expression of sympathy. The gesture was a sign of empathy, which, under the circumstances, meant even more to him.
On an impulse, he leaned over to sniff a golden bloom. The scent reminded him of the faintly floral fragrance Kelly often wore. He’d always liked it.
He glanced at his watch, wondering if she was home yet. If he remembered correctly, she was usually home early on Monday afternoons. Kelly was a full-time graduate student at the University of Texas at Dallas, her tuition paid by scholarships, her living expenses met by her part-time work with a local children’s speech and hearing treatment center. He knew money was a bit tight for her, yet she’d sent him flowers to let him know he was in her thoughts. He was touched by her generosity.
Her phone rang only twice before she answered. “Hello?”
“No one ever sent me flowers before,” he said without bothering to identify himself.
There was a hint of a smile in her voice when she answered. “You mean I’m your first?”
He chuckled, pleased that the conversation had begun with their usual easy humor. “Yeah. And you know what they say...you never forget your first.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want you to forget me.”
He couldn’t imagine that ever happening. He couldn’t even picture his life without Kelly in it now. After all, he reminded himself quickly, Kelly was part of the family. Just like a cousin to him. Sort of.
“I called to thank you,” he said a bit more seriously. “That was a really nice thing to do.”
“My favorite teacher sent me flowers when my mother died. I’ve never forgotten how it brought me peace to look at the beautiful flowers in the days after the funeral. I kept them until they were nothing more than dry sticks. I still have one bloom that I pressed in a heavy book. Maybe it was kind of dippy, but when I thought of you today, I remembered those flowers that meant so much to me and...well, I thought you might like some, too.”
“It wasn’t dippy,” Shane assured her, gazing at the colorful blossoms. “It was...nice.”
Nice. A fairly tepid word to describe Kelly’s generous and thoughtful gesture, but it was the best Shane could come up with at the moment.
“I’m glad you like them.” Seeming to grow uncomfortable with the subject, Kelly abruptly changed it. “How’s your family?”
“Everyone’s fine. You haven’t been out to the ranch in a while, have you?”
“No. Between school and work, it’s hard to find free time. I was particularly sorry to miss Molly’s birthday party last week, but I had to work.”
“Molly loved the gift you sent. But she would have liked you to be here, of course. And Sunny misses you,” he commented, referring to the horse Kelly often rode when she visited.
“I miss her, too. I look forward to coming for Thanksgiving. I’m so glad your parents invited me.”
“Of course they invited you. You’re part of the family, Kelly.” He changed the subject abruptly. “Are you planning to go to Nancy’s birthday party for Jackie O’Brien Thursday night? Do you need a ride—or, uh, do you have a date?”
“No, I can’t go. I have an exam Friday. I have to study Thursday night.”
“Dumb night for a party for working folks, huh?”
Kelly laughed. “You going to say that to Nancy?”
“No way,” he replied, feigning fear. “She’d take my head off. Nancy does not take well to criticism.”
“True. But she throws great parties. And Thursday is Jackie’s thirtieth birthday. Are you taking a date?” she asked very casually.
“No. I’ll probably just drop in during the evening, if I’ve got time.” It had been quite a while since he had a date, actually—if he didn’t count Gayla. Which he didn’t, since there had never been any real chemistry between them. He’d only kissed her a time or two, and had found no desire within himself to take it any further.
He guessed he’d just been too busy and too absorbed with the operation of the ranch to even think about getting involved with anyone.
“Well, have fun. Think of me slaving over my books while you’re partying at Nancy’s.”
He chuckled. “My heart bleeds for you. Would you rather be doing what I did this afternoon—shoveling manure out of barn stalls?”
“I, uh, think I’d rather study, thanks.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. And speaking of my afternoon’s exertions, I guess I’d better shower before dinner.”
“Good idea.”
“Thanks again for the flowers.”
“You’re welcome again. Goodbye, Shane.”
He didn’t say goodbye in return. He didn’t really like that word—especially when it came to people he cared about. Like Kelly—who, he reminded himself as he smelled the flowers one more time, was just like a member of his family.
Thursday night found Kelly exactly where she had predicted she would be—alone in her apartment with a stack of books and a can of diet soda. She didn’t usually mind studying, since she enjoyed attending classes and had only a little more than a semester remaining to earn her master’s degree. But for some reason, she had found it difficult to concentrate on her books this evening.
She couldn’t help thinking about the party she was missing. It w
asn’t that she was the type who could never miss a party. And she was only marginally acquainted with Jackie, in whose honor the party was being given. It was actually fairly rare that Kelly accepted party invitations, since she didn’t usually have much time to spare. But tonight she wondered who’d made it to Nancy’s party. Were Cameron and Amber there, still going strong in their new relationship? Had Michael Chang, who’d been undecided the last time she’d talked to him, decided to go? Had Shane found time to “drop by,” as he’d said he might do?
It wasn’t hard to picture her friends laughing and having a great time at Nancy’s. Food and conversation would be plentiful, and the big-screen TV would be tuned in to the sports channel. If Shane was there, he would be working the room, making the guys laugh with his endless supply of jokes, charming the women with his easy flirting.
Shane was very good at parties. Kelly usually enjoyed them herself—except for those times when she suffered from old insecurities about not fitting in. Being an outsider. She would occasionally find herself suddenly battling shyness, uncertain what to say or do. Fortunately those episodes were rare, and had grown even more uncommon during the past year, since she had carved such a comfortable niche for herself in Dallas.
Like her little apartment, she thought, glancing up from her books to look around her cozy nest in approval. She’d decorated sparingly, a choice due more to finances than taste, but every item had been selected because she liked it. She had utilized warm, rich colors and comfortable textures, enlarging small spaces with artfully placed mirrors, brightening dark corners with lamps and candles. This was home for her now, and she was happy here—despite the occasional lonely evenings. Like this one.
She nearly jumped out of her seat when her doorbell rang at just after nine o’clock that evening. She couldn’t imagine who was calling on her at this hour on a Thursday night. She realized she’d been sitting in one place too long when her permanently weakened right leg protested her quick rise from her chair. She shook it a little as she moved to the door, trying to loosen the stiff muscles. Straightening the oversize electric-blue sweater she wore with black leggings and black ballet slippers, she checked the peephole, then broke into a smile when she recognized the man making faces at her through the viewer.
“Shane,” she said, throwing open the door. “What are you doing here?”
Certain of his welcome, he sauntered in without waiting for an invitation. Kelly gave him a quick once-over as he passed her, noting that he had swapped his usual uniform of denim shirt, jeans and boots for a longsleeve, dark red polo shirt with loose-fitting khakis and brown suede oxfords. Shane Walker was one finelooking man, and Kelly was honest enough with herself to admit she found him attractive, even if she had no intention of ever risking their friendship by acting on that attraction.
He was carrying a large paper bag in his right hand. He set it on the table next to her stack of textbooks. “How’s the studying going? Ready for the big test?”
“I think so. I was just about to put the books away for the evening.”
“Great.” Shane rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. “Then the party can begin.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Party?”
With what she had always secretly labeled his “evil child grin,” Shane sauntered over to her stereo, tuned in a top-forty station, then returned to open the bag he’d carried in. “Since you couldn’t come to the party, I brought the party to you,” he announced.
He pulled out a shiny silver-and-purple, cone-shaped party hat and plopped it on her head, sliding the elastic band under her chin to hold it in place. “It’s you,” he proclaimed, then solemnly settled a green-and-gold cardboard top hat on his own dark head.
Reaching up to straighten her hat, Kelly couldn’t help giggling. “You really are insane.”
“I’ve just gotten started.” He dove into the bag again and pulled out a bottle of wine and two plastic wineglasses. The bottle had been opened, but most of the wine still remained, Kelly noted. Shane filled both glasses, then gave one to Kelly. “To Jackie,” he said, lifting his glass.
She repeated the toast to the birthday girl, then took a sip. And promptly choked. “What is that?”
His own drink untasted, Shane made a production of checking the bottle label. “Château de Bubba,” he pretended to read aloud. “Bottled last week in Alamogordo.”
“Let me guess. Chuck the Cheapskate brought wine for the party.”
“Good guess. Everyone insisted that I should bring some to you.”
Taking another cautious sip, Kelly barely repressed a shudder. “I’ll have to find a way to thank them all.”
Without touching his own glass, Shane reached into the bag again. Two covered foam containers revealed sizable portions of birthday cake, each piece bearing several pink icing flowers. With the flair of a stage magician, he produced two birthday candles, which he stuck into the slices and lit with a lighter also pulled from the bag.
“We have to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Jackie now,” he instructed gravely. He started the song in a deliberately off-key warble. Kelly alternately giggled and sang along, then followed his example and blew out the candle on her cake. A thin stream of smoke tickled her nose, making her giggle again.
“Is there anything else in that bag?” she asked after he produced plastic forks.
“But of course,” he replied. The next item he brought out was a small, brightly wrapped gift. “Can’t have a birthday party without presents.”
“But Jackie isn’t here to open it.”
“This one isn’t for Jackie. This is for you.” Shane pressed the box into her hand.
“For me? But it isn’t my birthday.”
“It’s an unbirthday present,” he informed her. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Shaking her head in amused exasperation at his unpredictability, Kelly tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box inside. And then smiled in delight. “A toothpick holder. Shane, it’s lovely.”
The delicate cut-glass cylinder narrowed from a wide, fluted opening to a small, flat bottom. It was a perfect specimen, without a chip or scratch that she could see at first glance. It would make a very nice addition to the small collection of antique toothpick holders she’d whimsically begun a few years earlier. “Where did you find it?”
“Cassie and Molly found a dresser for Molly’s bedroom at an antique store in Fort Worth. I took them in my truck to pick it up yesterday, and I spotted this while Cassie was paying for the dresser. I thought you might like to add it to your collection. The salesclerk said it’s a nice example from the early 1940s.”
“I love it. Thank you.” She carried the little container to the glass-fronted cabinet in which she kept her few dishes and the six other toothpick holders that made up her entire collection. She set it beside her most valuable piece, a delicate urn-shaped holder rimmed with fourteen-karat gold, a gift from Brynn last Christmas. This little gift from Shane was as precious to her as anything she owned.
Closing the cabinet door, she tilted her head to admire her newly expanded collection, then nearly choked when the elastic band beneath her chin tightened. She pulled the hat off as she turned, smiling at Shane. “Have I ever mentioned that you can be very sweet?”
He looked quickly around in exaggerated concern. “Hey, quiet! Someone might hear you. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
“Too late,” she said, unable to resist reaching out to pinch his dimpled cheek. “Everyone already knows what a sweetie you are.”
And he looked so darned cute in that green-and-gold party hat, she couldn’t help thinking as she laughed and pinched his cheek again.
Grinning, Shane caught her hand in his and pulled it away. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”
“All kidding aside, it really was sweet of you to buy a toothpick holder for my collection. And to bring the unbirthday party to me. Thank you.”
He leaned over to brush a quick kiss against her cheek. “You’re welcome.” And
then he straightened and motioned to the very small expanse of wooden floor between her dining and living areas. “Speaking of our unbirthday party, we’ve just gotten started. Dance with me.”
A popular slow ballad had just begun to play on the radio as he extended his hand to her. Kelly hesitated before placing her hand into his. There had been a time when she had loved to dance. But that was before the near-tragic car accident had damaged her legs and left her with an awkward limp. “I—uh—”
“We can’t have a party without dancing.” Shane tugged her gently into his arms. “Just one dance.”
Giving in to his encouragement and her own temptation, she placed her right hand in his left and rested her other hand on his shoulder. “Just one dance,” she agreed.
She had never danced with Shane before, she realized suddenly, vividly aware of how closely his cowboy-tough body moved against hers—pretty much a necessity since their dancing space was so limited. She hadn’t danced since her accident, actually. Trust Shane to be the one to give her courage to try again.
Shane had been one of her most encouraging supporters ever since he’d met her while she was still lying in the hospital only days after her accident. He and his father, Jared, and Jared’s extended family of siblings and in-laws had taken Kelly and Brynn under their wing after hearing about the accident they’d had the very day they’d moved to Dallas, leaving them without a place to stay or anyone to turn to during the early days of Kelly’s recovery. It hadn’t mattered that Brynn and Kelly were strangers to them then. They had been alone and in need, and the Walkers and D’Alessandros hadn’t hesitated to come to their aid.
And then they had discovered by a stunning accident that Brynn was the daughter of one of the long-lost Walker brothers, who had died barely seven months before Brynn was born. He had left his unmarried and emotionally unstable young girlfriend to try to raise her child alone, unaware of the network of support she could have received had she known about Miles Walker’s siblings. That Brynn had been brought back into the family years later was a miracle they all still marveled at, and which eldest sister, Layla Walker Samples, maintained was divine intervention rather than bizarre coincidence. After seeing how happy Brynn had been since finding her family and marrying Joe D’Alessandro, the handsome young doctor who had operated on Kelly’s legs, Kelly had privately agreed with Layla. It must have taken more than happenstance to bring her and Brynn to this place at that particular time.