Real Vintage Maverick

by Marie Ferrarella

  Less than two minutes later, her heart leaped into her throat again when she heard the bell go off for a second time.

  Swinging around to look, she found that it wasn’t Cody walking into the shop this time around any more than it had been the last time. Instead of the tall cowboy, a very pregnant-looking Antonia Wright crossed the threshold, moving slowly.

  Catherine’s disappointment faded as she greeted one of her oldest friends. Despite being seven months along, the single mother-to-be was still going strong, running the only boardinghouse in Thunder Canyon and managing to do it all practically single-handedly.

  Stubbornness, Catherine thought, was one of the key things that she and Antonia had in common.

  “Antonia, what brings you here?” Catherine asked after she gave the woman a quick hug that required some artful bending on her part.

  “Swollen feet,” Antonia answered wearily. With one hand protectively on her protruding abdomen, she looked at Catherine. “Tell me, do I have two different shoes on?” she asked.

  Amused, Catherine looked down, then shook her head. “No, they’re both the same. Why?”

  “Because the right one feels a lot tighter than it did just a couple of days ago. I thought maybe I made a mistake and put on two different shoes.” Antonia sighed, her frown deepening. “Oh, God, I can’t wait—”

  “For the baby to be born?” Catherine asked. By the time the seventh month hit, she knew that some women felt as if they’d been pregnant forever and that they’d never have a waist again.

  “Well, that, too,” Antonia allowed with a vague nod of her head, “but what I was going to say was that I can’t wait to see my feet again.” Pausing, the blonde looked around at the items on display. “When I came to your grand opening, I saw this rocking chair that really caught my attention—it had carvings along the back headrest. Roses I think or maybe buttercups. Anyway, it looked perfect and I decided to get myself a present. Do you still have it?” she wanted to know.

  The mention of buttercups had her thinking of Cody and the horse he’s selected for her. And what came after their picnic.

  This isn’t focusing on work, she admonished herself silently.

  Looking at Antonia, she pasted a smile on her lips and beckoned for the woman to follow her.

  “It’s right back here,” she told Antonia, leading the way. She glanced over her shoulder to see if her friend was following her or had decided to forgo the twists and turns of the small, makeshift aisles and was waiting to have the rocking chair brought to her.

  “I’m coming,” Antonia reassured her, guessing what was on Catherine’s mind. “I don’t waddle as fast as I used to.”

  Antonia was forced to stop short or find herself running right into a tall, handsome stranger who possessed a smile that warmed the room, increasing its temperature by at least two degrees.

  Why was it that all the good ones were either taken or choosing to pop up now, when she couldn’t do anything about it?

  The man nodded at her as their paths crossed. He looked vaguely familiar, and then she remembered where she’d seen him before. He was the new chef the Traubs had brought in to work at their resort.

  The next moment, the handsome chef had disappeared behind another row of furnishings.

  “So, are you thinking about actually buying this rocking chair?” Catherine asked as she moved the hand-carved chair to a more accessible place.

  Gripping the armrests for support, Antonia lowered herself onto the seat. She was trying it out to determine if the rocking chair was wide enough to comfortably accommodate her. Of late, she felt as if she’d spread out like an overfilled cupcake.

  “No, I’m just going to sit here until I deliver,” she quipped. She rocked a little and smiled. This would do fine. “Speaking of which—” she looked at her friend “—do you deliver or am I going to have to find a way to bring this to my house?”

  Even if she didn’t have any delivery system, Catherine wouldn’t have left Antonia in a lurch. “Don’t worry, I’ll have one of my brothers deliver it,” she promised.

  “Excuse me,” Shane interrupted politely, popping up again. “I was just wondering—”

  Hoping for another sale, Catherine raised her eyes from her friend and turned her attention toward the good-looking bachelor. “Yes?”

  “The previous owner, does he still come in once in a while?” Shane wanted to know.

  Why would he be asking about Fowler? No one had liked the man even before he’d suddenly kidnapped one of their own in a desperate attempt to escape the law.

  “You mean Jasper Fowler?” Catherine asked just to make sure he was actually asking about the man and not someone else. When Shane nodded, she said, “Lord no, I haven’t seen him since before I bought the store.”

  Mercifully, everything had been handled through the bank and she hadn’t had to endure any one-on-one dealings with the horrible little man.

  Shane took in the answer, but he wasn’t finished yet. What neither of the two women knew was that he was actually approaching the heart of his real question, circling it slowly so as not to give himself away until he was ready to.

  “Is it true that Fowler was using the store as a front for some kind of an illegal business that actually involved the mayor as well?” Shane was doing his best to sound only mildly curious, the way a newcomer to a town might as he gathered information about his new town.

  “Ex-mayor,” Catherine corrected pointedly.

  The present mayor of Thunder Canyon was a distant cousin of hers and completely upstanding, unlike the double-dealing Arthur Swinton, who’d landed in prison for his misdeeds, then managed to escape. The money he’d wound up skimming thanks to his position as mayor hadn’t been found so far.

  “But as far as your question goes, that was the general belief,” she acknowledged. “However, if you’re looking for details, I’m afraid that I don’t have any.” He’d aroused her curiosity. Most people who came in asked questions about the origins of the furniture and knickknacks, not about the location of the former owner and his supposed cohort. “Why do you ask?”

  Shane raised his shoulders in a vague shrug. “No reason, really. I’m just trying to pick up a little background information on the town since I’m new around here.”

  He’d asked too many questions, Shane thought, frustrated and annoyed with the situation. God knew he didn’t want to arouse anyone’s suspicions until he was ready to make his move. He definitely didn’t want his secret coming out before people thought well of him.

  Flashing a smile at Catherine that was also directed at the woman in the rocking chair, he said, “Thanks for your help. I’m going to take a few measurements at home and then I’ll be back,” he promised.

  Tipping his hat to both women, Shane left the shop.

  “I certainly hope he’ll be back,” Catherine murmured loud enough for Antonia to hear. Turning toward her friend, Catherine couldn’t help remarking on the obvious. “Now that was one good-looking man.”

  Antonia shrugged. “He wasn’t bad,” she agreed.

  “Not bad? God but you have high standards.” Then, looking at Antonia pointedly, she said, “I think he liked you.”

  Antonia rolled her eyes. “Oh, puh-lease. The man was probably thinking how relieved he was that I wasn’t his problem. Trust me, no man notices someone in my condition, except in that light.” She shifted slightly in the chair. “Speaking of men, how are things going with Cody?”

  In her exuberance, she’d shared her thoughts about Cody with Antonia. In hindsight, that might not have been a good idea. Antonia was a little bitter when it came to the subject of men. “So far, so good. To be honest, almost too good,” she confided.

  Antonia looked at her, then shook her head. “Oh, I know that starry-eyed look. I saw it in my own mirror about seven months ago,” she said, unconsciously placing her hand on her swollen belly. “My advice to you is stay grounded and don’t let yourself get carried away. Most men, sad to say, don’
t live up to their own hype. Honey, I don’t want to see you disappointed the way I was.” She stopped herself from saying more. There was no point in complaining. What was done, she thought, was done. “Remember, you’re the only one you can depend on.”

  There was more than a trace of bitterness in Antonia’s voice, but then, Catherine supposed the woman was entitled to it. After all, the man she’d been in love with had suddenly found a reason to disappear, leaving her single and pregnant, neither condition was one that Antonia had foreseen for herself at this point in her life.

  “I like it,” Antonia declared, changing the subject and nodding at the rocking chair. Struggling, she began to get up in almost slow motion, using the armrests to push herself to her feet. “Ring it up.” Antonia began to rummage through her purse for her wallet.

  “I’ll be happy to. It’s a sturdy chair that’ll last you a lifetime,” Catherine said, slowing her pace as she accompanied her friend to the register.

  “Good,” Antonia replied, still looking through her purse. “So I can use it in my old age.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Catherine laughed.

  The moment Antonia left the store, Catherine reached for the phone. After talking to her friend, she needed reinforcement. She needed to hear the sound of Cody’s voice. It didn’t matter what he actually said—as long as it wasn’t to tell her that he’d decided not to see her anymore.

  Antonia’s state of mind had gotten to her, Catherine thought.

  She let the phone ring ten times. When it rang for an eleventh time, she gave up and started to hang up. Just before the receiver met the cradle, she thought she heard a deep voice say, “Hello?”

  Snatching the receiver back up to her ear, Catherine cried, “Cody?” then upbraided herself for not attempting to sound at least a little calmer. This was going to scare him away for sure.

  “No, this is Hank.”

  Hank. Trying to associate the name with a face, she came up empty for a second, then remembered the ranch hand Cody had introduced her to last week. “Um, Hank, is Cody around? I’d like to speak to him.”

  “Sorry, ma’am, he’s out.”

  Had Hank been told to say that or was Cody actually out? Crossing her fingers that it was the latter, Catherine did her best to sound upbeat as she asked, “Would you know where he is?”

  “Well, last I heard, he said something about going to the cemetery.”

  “Thank you.”

  Catherine hung up and stared at the phone.

  The cemetery.

  That was where Cody went when he wanted to talk to his wife. He’d told her that the other day.

  A sinking feeling began to take hold of her. He’d gone to “talk” to Renee. This didn’t sound good.

  Trying to tell herself that she was overreacting, Catherine nevertheless hurried to the front of the shop. She flipped the closed sign so that it was visible from the outside and then quickly left the store.

  She had to find out what Cody was doing at the cemetery.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Approaching the cemetery, Catherine slowed her vehicle to a near crawl as she looked around for an inconspicuous place to park. Cemeteries were far from her favorite place to be, even in daylight.

  As she looked around, she saw Cody’s truck parked not too far from the entrance. So much for wondering if he’d actually come here.

  Driving farther on, she finally found a space to leave her car that wasn’t visible from where Cody had left his vehicle.

  Oh, God, she’d gone from vintage/thrift shop owner to stalker, Catherine silently upbraided herself. There was no other explanation for why she’d just closed up shop and driven straight over here in the middle of the day.

  And exactly what was she going to do once she located Cody in the cemetery? She had no claim on him. They’d only been seeing one another—if that was what it could actually be called—for a little more than three weeks. Moreover, they’d only become intimate less than a week ago.

  It was all so whirlwind fast with no commitments, no promises. Which meant that she and Cody were free to do whatever they wanted with whomever they chose.

  Besides, coming here wasn’t like Cody was sneaking around, cheating on her with another woman. After all, a man couldn’t cheat on a girlfriend with his own wife, she thought ruefully.

  His late wife, she reminded herself, searching for something to grasp on to.

  She couldn’t find it. Renee being dead didn’t exactly matter, did it? Dead and gone, the woman could still come between them if Cody was still in love with her.

  Because if he was, then most likely he’d feel guilty about what they’d been doing together these last few days. The way he’d talked about Renee that night at DJ’s Rib Shack told her that to Cody, making love with her was somehow being unfaithful to Renee’s memory.

  Catherine could feel her anxiety growing.

  Oh, God, she thought, resting her head on the steering wheel, what a mess this had turned out to be. Why couldn’t things just be simple for a change?

  She was in love with Cody—and at the same time, afraid of being in love with him. Afraid of being hurt by him. And he, well he was here at the cemetery, wasn’t he? That could only mean that he felt he owed his loyalty to Renee.

  Her brother Craig had told her that Cody had been extremely broken up when his wife died. In the months that followed, he’d turned into almost a hermit, only venturing out occasionally. Eventually, that changed a little bit, but not a great deal. None of the women he’d been seen with were ever repeaters—no one saw them in his company more than once. It was as if he was determined to keep moving, to keep ahead of anything that even hinted at becoming permanent.

  But he’d seen her more than just once, Catherine reminded herself. She had obviously broken whatever rules he’d been adhering to.

  Except that maybe now that didn’t count anymore—because Cody hadn’t shown up today. Hadn’t come to her shop the way he had for the last few days. Instead, he’d gone to his wife’s grave.

  To ask for forgiveness?

  A spark of hope entered her heart. Maybe she was wrong, Catherine fervently prayed as she finally got out of her car and walked toward the cemetery entrance. Maybe Cody was here visiting his parents’ grave—or someone else’s for that matter.

  It didn’t have to be Renee’s grave that had brought him here.

  Clinging to that and crossing her fingers, Catherine walked through the towering black iron gates and entered the cemetery proper.

  * * *

  Cody removed his Stetson as he took a couple of steps back from his wife’s headstone. He’d just laid a large bouquet of carnations—her favorites—on her grave.

  “I’ve got something I need to tell you, Renee,” Cody said softly, then smiled ruefully. “But you probably figured that out because of the flowers. You always used to say you knew whenever I’d done something I didn’t think you’d like because I brought you flowers.” He fidgeted slightly. “Some things don’t change, I guess.” Cody ran his fingers along the brim of his black hat, searching for the right words so that this could come out coherently. “And then, other things do. And that’s why I’m here,” he confessed, addressing the headstone. “Because something’s changed.”

  Pausing, he took a deep breath then pushed on. This was not easy for him.

  “I know that you told me that you wanted me to move on once you weren’t here anymore.” It was one of the very last things Renee had said to him as her time grew short. As he remembered, emotion threatened to close his windpipe even after all this time.

  “And when you said that, I told you that I couldn’t. That it was going to be hard for me just living inside each day that you weren’t part of anymore. And it was,” he told his wife with feeling. “For a long, long time, it was. But I kept breathing and I kept working—and I kept missing you,” he admitted.

  He paused again, waiting for the tears that threatened to spill out to retreat. A man was supposed to be a
ble to control his grief better than that, not let it control him.

  “I still miss you,” he told his wife in a low voice. “You need to know that, and to know that I’ll always love you. You’ll always have a piece of my heart, Renee, a big piece.

  “But there’s someone else who’s come along....” And then he laughed at himself. “But I suspect you already know that. Hell,” he reflected, “you know everything I’m about to say, don’t you?” He smiled at the headstone, remembering Renee the way she used to be before the cancer left its mark on her. “I know you’ve been lookin’ down, watching me so that means you’ve already seen her. Her name’s Catherine Clifton—you know that, too,” he realized the next moment, and a touch of irony echoed in his tone. “She makes me happy, Renee. I never thought that was going to be possible, but it is and she does. And I love her. Not like I loved you,” he admitted. “You only fall in love for the first time once. So this is kind of different, but it’s love all the same.”

  Cody cleared his throat, his discomfort surrounding him. But he needed to push on. He needed to say all this to Renee. He owed her that.

  Or maybe this was just to close a chapter in his life so that he could move on.

  “So what I’m doing here today, Renee, is asking for your approval. You see, I’m going to be asking Catherine an important question, one I don’t know if she’s going to say yes to—but I’m hoping.” He saw that he was beginning to leave a mark on the brim of his hat and forced himself to stop fingering it. “But I didn’t want to ask her before I told you and asked if it was all right with you.

  “I’d be obliged if you could find a way to give me a sign, something that’ll tell me you’re all right with all this. Doesn’t have to be anything big,” he added quickly. “No bushes set on fire or stuff like that. As a matter of fact, I’d be relieved if you don’t burn anything, but just find a way to give me a sign nonetheless.”