by Liz Isaacson
“Got any of those for me?” She paused close enough for him to catch a whiff of her perfume. He told himself not to fall so fast, but Justin couldn’t seem to stop himself.
He handed her the container. “That was the last box. Can I take you to dinner?”
She ate the rest of his Tic Tacs and tossed the empty container into an empty box she was using as a trashcan. “Sure.”
“Do you mind driving a bit?”
She approached him and slid both hands up his chest. “How far?”
He kissed her, his need for her stronger than his need for food. Justin pulled back sooner than he would’ve liked. “Not far. Beaverton has an Italian restaurant I think you’ll like.”
“Trying to sweeten me up with pasta?”
“Will that work?”
She laughed and he enjoyed the feel of her next to him while she experienced such joy. “I think it’ll actually work, yeah.”
“Well, let’s go then.”
Lunchtime the following day found Justin on the back of his horse, a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of Gatorade in the other. The sun beat down on the landscape around him, and his cowboy hat did little to ease the blinding light.
He’d escaped the rigorous schedule on the ranch, at least for an hour. He hadn’t checked with Walker. Justin would get his work done; he always did. He rarely needed a break, but today, he felt emotionally overwhelmed.
After another late night, and after hours of lying in bed without sleeping, Justin couldn’t deny how he felt about Renee. Once he’d accepted it, sleep had come instantly.
His phone buzzed and chimed, and Justin pulled it out of his shirt pocket.
Renee: Quit my job today.
Justin’s heart tripped over itself. You did?
Renee: Yeah. I’m going to miss my friend, but I can’t stand in that booth for another second.
Justin: Gotta listen to your gut.
Renee: I’m still working for the National Parks Department.
Justin: Yeah?
Renee: Yeah. I’m going to be the social media coordinator for the monument.
Justin stared at the phone, seeing the words but not comprehending them. What did a social media coordinator even do?
Renee: You know, like twitter, Facebook, instagram, stuff like that.
Justin: I actually have no idea about most of that.
When he was in the rodeo, his manager had set up a twitter account for him, but Justin had never even logged in. His manager had taken care of all of that, and Justin didn’t know if the account even existed anymore.
Renee: I get to work from home.
Justin: That’s the best commute.
Renee: Sure is.
Justin turned his face into the wind, steering his horse toward the butte. Peppercorn had a pelt of off-white that looked like someone had spilled an entire container of pepper across her back, thus the name. Justin had raised her from a colt, and she’d taken him to victory as a heeler horse the last two years of his rodeo career.
He whistled between his teeth when he realized he hadn’t seen his dog for a while. Movement in the sagebrush up ahead caught his attention, and Roy came bounding back. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as Justin drained the last of his sports drink.
He sighed. “So, boy. What do you think I should do about Renee?”
Roy looked at him with eagerness, his tail wagging his whole body.
“Yeah, I’m being stupid about nothing.” And the words sounded one-hundred percent true. So he released his worries and let God lead the horse to the shade. He believed God would lead him too, if he’d let go of the reins and exercise his faith.
He also knew that was easier said than done, but he was determined to try.
The weeks passed in a blur of sun and wind and horses and spending a couple of hours in the evenings with Renee. She never ventured up the canyon, something Justin didn’t notice until she brought it up.
She brought up everything, it seemed. Her brothers and sisters. Her friends. Her jobs over the years. What had happened in town that day, what the pastor had said at church, what the neighbor’s were gossiping about.
Justin pulled up to her house on Friday evening and got out of his truck. She met him on the front porch with her shoulder bag slung across her body. “You ready for this concert?”
“It’s not gonna get wild or anything. It’s bluegrass.” He watched shock travel across her face. “I can see you didn’t know that.”
“You said it was a concert.”
Justin laughed and swept an arm around her waist. “There will be live people playing instruments. It is a concert.”
She glared up at him, straining against his grip. “What kind of instruments?”
“Banjos and guitars. Probably a keyboard.”
“I feel like you should’ve been more clear.” She glanced down at her knee-length skirt. “I’m going to go change.”
“Probably a good idea,” he called after her, though he enjoyed the view with the skirt. “We have to sit on the ground.”
She spun back to him, her eyes practically on fire. “What?”
“It’s a concert in the park. I know I told you that.” He entered her house and let the door settle closed behind him. “It’s like you don’t know where you live. It’s Brush Creek,” he said. “Small town America.”
She lifted her chin and turned the corner to go into her bedroom. “I know,” she called back to him.
Justin chuckled as he sank onto her couch. He leaned back, all the knots in his muscles unwinding. It had been a long week of work, and he didn’t have a day off for nine more days. He’d never minded, but he hadn’t dated anyone since he’d moved to Brush Creek. He was finding it hard to maintain a relationship and keep up with all the work on the ranch.
“Justin?” His name echoed in his mind, and he tried to locate it. Whiteness blanketed everything about him, and his head swam.
Someone touched his arm, and he jerked, his fist colliding with something hard and soft at the same time.
His eyes snapped open at the same time Renee cried out. Justin blinked, realizing in a single moment that he’d fallen asleep—and punched his girlfriend in the eye.
“Renee,” he said, pulling at her hands, which covered her left eye. “Let me see. I’m so sorry.”
Both of her eyes watered, her makeup clearly high quality because it didn’t run. She couldn’t keep her eye open for long, and it fluttered closed again.
Regret lanced through him, and he cursed his exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
She tried to laugh, but he could tell it wasn’t genuine. “So you’re a bad waker-upper.” She smiled, but Justin could only see half of it as she kept her eye covered with her hands. “Noted.”
“I’m a sleepwalker too,” he said. “My mom used to put a baby gate in the hallway so I wouldn’t fall down the stairs.”
She slowly lowered her hands. “You’re adorable,” she said.
Justin ducked his head, pleasure flowing through him. Though she seemed to like kissing him, she hadn’t really paid him any compliments. He’d tried to tell her she was beautiful whenever he got the chance, whether through texts, calls, or in person.
He cleared his throat. “So did I sleep through the concert?”
“I may have taken a little long changing,” she said. “But it’s only been about twenty minutes.”
He lifted his eyes to hers, glad that hers only looked a little red. “How’s your eye? We don’t have to go.”
“It’s my first holiday in Brush Creek. I want to go.” She covered his hand with both of hers. “I want to go with you.”
A tremor of fear passed through Justin. He didn’t understand it. A few days ago, he’d released his concerns and determined to trust in the Lord. But actually having to do it took more courage than Justin thought he had.
“Let’s go,” he said, standing and heading toward the front door. He needed to put some distance between him and Renee until
he could figure out why she scared him.
They arrived at the park later than he’d planned so there wasn’t anywhere to park in the lot. He found a spot a few blocks away and they walked hand-in-hand to the concert. He carried two blankets and a flashlight. Renee didn’t bring anything but her cell phone, which she couldn’t seem to look away from.
Annoyance sang through him as he spread one blanket on the ground and let her settle onto it.
“Who you talking to?” he finally asked.
A few seconds passed before she even looked up. “One of my sisters. Remember I told you about Julia? She’s having some trouble with her boyfriend.” She focused on the phone again, and Justin tried to enjoy the bluegrass band on the stage. But they were a little too far away to appreciate the skill it took to strum a banjo, and Justin felt his attention wandering.
His own phone rested in his back pocket, silent. The only person who ever texted or called sat beside him, worlds away. Well, Walker sent him messages everyday too, but Justin didn’t want to talk about horses or balers.
Darkness started to fall, and Justin’s muscles twitched to leave. He stood and stretched his legs, making sure Renee noticed him. When she didn’t say anything, Justin strode toward the bright lights of the pavilion, where he’d find something to drink and maybe some of the bakery’s famous chocolate chip cookies.
He found Doug Munk, the owner of the bakery, but no cookies. He bypassed the orange soda in favor of a diet cola, where he also found a sliver of baklava still on a slip of waxed paper. He devoured the treat in two bites, the crisp puff pastry melting against his tongue. Still, he wasn’t a huge fan of honey, and the dessert didn’t satisfy the way he wanted it to.
He feared nothing would except the woman he’d left on the blanket. The woman who didn’t even know he was gone.
“Hey, Justin.”
He glanced up to find Mya standing only a pace away, her golden hair gleaming under the artificial lights. She wore a smile that suggested more than friendliness, and Justin found himself returning it.
She flipped open her soda and took a sip of it. “Are you liking the band?”
Justin couldn’t really say, so he just shrugged. “I’ve always liked bluegrass.”
“I grew up playing the fiddle.” She sighed as she moved to his side and leaned against a pillar. She faced the stage, but it was far enough away that only the faintest warblings of music could be heard.
“No kidding,” Justin said. “My dad taught me and my brothers the guitar.”
“So we’re half of a bluegrass band already.”
Justin nodded. “Guess so.”
“You still have that dog?”
“The one you thought was—what did you call him? A terror?” He chuckled, remembering that day in the park, almost two years ago. Roy had been leashed and everything. He hadn’t barked. “He just wanted your ball.”
“I wish you would’ve told me that at the time.”
“You dropped it when you scampered away from him, screaming.”
“I wasn’t screaming.” She slapped him in the chest, and her hand struck him emotionally as well. What was he doing? Flirting with another woman?
He glanced at Mya and found her light blue eyes locked on him. “So tell me what’s goin’ on between you and Renee Martin.” Mya spoke with an even tone, her face giving away nothing. Justin liked her western twang, liked that she wore a pair of jeans and a pink pair of cowgirl boots. She fit in Brush Creek. She could probably fit with him.
“We’re dating.” He spoke with the same level voice and kept his eyes on hers. He wasn’t embarrassed of his relationship with Renee. He just didn’t quite know how to quantify it.
“Is she here tonight?” Mya looked around like she should be on Justin’s arm.
“Yeah,” he said.
Mya raised her hand and trailed her fingers along his collar. “Too bad.” She sauntered away, pausing at the edge of the cement and glancing back at him. Her eyes held blue fire that Justin felt all the way down into his stomach.
Chapter Nine
Renee’s thumbs flew across her phone as she tried to help her sister through her boyfriend crisis. When she finally glanced up, she realized she had a crisis of her own, because Justin had disappeared.
She couldn’t be sure how long he’d been gone, though she vaguely remembered him getting up and saying something.
Around her, people were standing and folding blankets. Panic raced through her bloodstream as she scrambled to her feet too. Her phone went off again, but she ignored it. The second blanket Justin had brought sat in the corner of the first, and the flashlight lay in the center. She glanced around, noting the pain in her left eye. She cringed when she thought about what it might look like by the time she got home.
Her heart thundered like a herd of galloping horses. She spun in a circle, looking for Justin. She didn’t see him anywhere. As the crowd thinned, she realized she was in real trouble. Perhaps he’d left her here completely.
She dismissed the idea almost as quickly as it had come, angry the thought was even there. But it was. Renee still struggled to believe Justin wanted to be with her, despite his frequent declarations of her beauty, despite the affectionate way he looked at her when they were alone, despite the fire between them when they kissed.
Renee pulled out the only weapon she had: her phone. She dialed Justin, desperate to hear his voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
She hated the way he said it like he didn’t know who was calling. He never answered the phone like that. Never.
“Hey,” she said, a giggle tacking itself onto the end. “Where are you? The concert is over.”
“I know.”
“So you’re still here?”
“Sittin’ in my truck, waiting for you.”
She turned in a circle again, unsure of which way to go. Julia had texted on the drive over, and well, Renee hadn’t really been paying attention.
“You know,” he said. “When you said you wanted to go to the concert with me, I believed you.”
“I did,” she said, exhaling. “It’s just that Julia—she’s my most needy sister, and—” She bent and picked up the blanket that hadn’t been used. “I’m sorry.” She tossed the flashlight onto the blanket and folded the one she’d been sitting on. “I’ll be right there.” She hung up, because she thought she might cry and she didn’t want him to witness that for a second time in only one night.
Almost everyone was heading back past the stage, and she remembered coming past the musicians when they’d arrived. She followed them, picking out landmarks though it was dark now. She reached the street and headed north, hoping she was right. Cars lined the street in that direction, so she figured she was safe.
Sure enough, after a few blocks, Justin’s big silver truck came into view. He sat inside, his cowboy hat pushed low over his face.
Renee tossed the blankets in the back and went around to the passenger side, her insides jiggling like someone had set them in gelatin. At the same time, her frustration fumed. Would it have been so hard for him to come meet her? Make sure she made it the three blocks from the park?
She tried to open the door, but it was locked. Inside the truck, Justin startled and pushed his hat back. He caught sight of her and he unlocked the truck so she could get in. She climbed in and secured her seat belt, her tongue suddenly too thick to fit in her mouth.
Justin drove, just as silent. After only a block, Renee blurted, “I’m sorry, okay? You didn’t have to leave me there.”
“You left me a while ago, sweetheart.”
She hated the endearment when said so sarcastically. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
Justin stayed silent until he pulled into her driveway. He put the truck in park and turned to face her. “I understand your sister needed you. I do. I just—I felt like a fool sitting there by myself.”
“I’ll put my phone away next time.”
He remained quiet, and
in Renee’s experience, that was never good. “Talk to me. What are you thinking about?”
“Us.”
A smile flashed across her face. “So there’s still an us?”
“I know a couple of people who would like it if there weren’t.”
Her stomach flipped. “Are you one of them?”
He finally looked at her, and she fell into his ocean-colored eyes. “No.” He reached out and brushed his fingertips along her collarbone in a gesture that made her skin hum and her muscles shiver. “Fireman’s breakfast in the morning?”
She nodded. “I’ll leave my phone at home.” She slid across the seat and pressed a kiss to his lips, glad when he received her willingly. “I really am sorry,” she whispered against his lips.
“Kiss me again so I can be sure.”
She giggled before happily complying with his request.
The following morning, Renee rose long before she normally did. She squeezed herself into a pair of yoga pants she swore hadn’t been so tight the last time she’d worn them. She secured her hair out of her face with several barrettes and headed toward Main Street, where she’d learned that a women’s workout class was held every morning at six a.m.
She’d never given much thought to her extra weight, besides noticing she had it and some other women didn’t. She liked to eat, and she liked sweets, and she didn’t mind that her clothes were in the double-digits for size.
But she’d experienced the way Justin lived, and he liked to move. He hiked, and he fished, and he worked constantly. He’d never said a single thing to her about coming with him on any of those activities, but she’d like to spend more time with him, and she thought the first step would be to get in shape.
Trepidation tripped through her when she pulled into the lot and found it mostly full. She didn’t know many people in town, and she wasn’t particularly chipper this early in the morning. She told herself this was a great way to make new friends, and she pushed through the door and into the center.