by Karen Ball
“It’s just so novel.” Ryan’s retort didn’t miss a beat. “At least give us time to get used to the idea.”
“Har de har.” She made a face at him.
Her mother sipped her tea before offering her encouragement. “That’s a good idea, Taylor.”
Uncertainty washed over Taylor. “I thought so, too, at first. But I haven’t had any calls, and the ad’s been out for a week. I thought I’d at least get some high schoolers responding, but no one’s called.” She lifted her shoulder. “Unfortunately, the odds of anyone from out of town even seeing the ad aren’t exactly high.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair. “You don’t think someone would come to the booming metropolis of Wilson looking for a temporary job as a handyman and ranch helper, eh? Not even if he’d have the prettiest boss in the area?”
“I hardly think that would be a draw.” Taylor batted at her brother’s arm. “Besides, when you consider that the last time a stranger came to town for any length of time the news made the front page of the local rag, it doesn’t exactly bode well for my poor little ad.”
Ryan’s chuckle was gleeful. “Hey, there are strange men walking through our town all the time! I mean, they don’t get much stranger than some of the tourists who come here!”
Taylor laughed and took a sip of hot chocolate. “Oh, now there’s an idea. Say, mister, I know you came to Wyoming to ride horses, soak in the hot springs, and follow your wife around to every shop in the county, but wouldn’t you rather come on over and dig some post holes? Or muck out a few stalls?”
“I’d rather muck out stalls any day than go shopping.” Disgust was ripe in Mark’s young voice.
“That’s my boy!” Ryan gave him a slap on the back.
Lisa held up her hands, looking at the others. “I do my best with them, but you can see what I’m up against.”
Taylor went to pat her arm in mock solicitude. “It’s okay, Lisa. Ryan was hopeless long before you came onto the scene. But I doubt I’ll have any tourists lining up to answer the ad. At any rate, I’ll know this afternoon if I’ve had any luck. I’m going to check out the post office box when Gavin and I go into town today.”
Her mother looked up with interest. “You’re going in with Gavin MacEwen again, hmmm?”
“He asked me to go along for company while he picked up supplies. I’ve got to return some books to the library, Mom. It’s no big deal.”
“I’m glad you’re getting out more, Sis.”
“Gavin is a friend.” The words came out between clenched teeth. “Nothing more.”
“Hey, I think it’s great you’re spending time with Mr. Scottish Hunk.”
Taylor eyed her brother. Surely that remark wasn’t as innocent as it sounded. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Honest.” Ryan’s eyes were open and frank. “I’m just glad to see you getting away from the ranch for a while.”
“Well, it’s not like that’s so terribly unusual.”
“Actually, hon, it is.” Taylor turned to look at her father at this surprising comment. His eyes held a tender concern as he said, “You’ve kind of hidden yourself away here for the last year, Taylor.”
“I love Galloway Glen.” What was the problem with spending time in her own home, for heaven’s sake?
“We know you do, dear, and we’re glad.” Her mother’s voice was kind but firm. “But you need to be around people.”
“I go to church! There are all kinds of people there.”
“Sorry, Taylor, but Mom and Dad are right,” Lisa said. “No one ever gets a chance to talk with you. You come in as the first hymn starts and leave as Dad is finishing up the benediction.” The understanding expression in her eyes softened the words. A little.
Taylor stared at her cooling chocolate, her lips pressed together. It had been easy to socialize when Josh was with her. His vibrant personality and warm heart drew people to him like bees to honey, and Taylor had benefited from that appeal. But without Josh, she felt herself falling back into old patterns. As a child she’d often struggled with feelings of not fitting in, of being somewhat different, even odd. Since Josh’s death, those feelings had come back in force, compounded by the fact that she was now a widow. A young widow. If she’d felt odd as a child, she felt downright freakish now.
“I suppose they’re talking about me.” She knew she sounded bitter, but she couldn’t help it.
Her father’s eyes chided her. “Sweetheart, I’m not concerned about what people are saying. I’m concerned about you, about how much time you spend alone.”
“Which is why we’re pleased Gavin is coming over,” her mother added.
“Though why a good-looking fella like him would want to be around a prickly pear like you is beyond me!”
“I like Gavin!” Mark piped up, forestalling his aunt’s heated response to his father. “I like his accent and some of the funny words he uses—”
“Yeah, like canna and ken and stuff!” Mike turned to his mother. “He’s Scottish, you know.”
“Yes, dear. I know. He’s charming.”
“Yeah, but that’s okay. I mean, he’s not a sissy or anything. He can fight real good. I saw him once with Dancy Blocker—”
“Okay, sport, that’s enough.” Ryan tried to put a halt to the story, but Mark could be stubborn when he wanted to make a point.
“I did, Dad. Dancy said something about Aunt Taylor, and Gavin told him to hold his tongue or he’d be eating it—”
“Marcus Riley!” His eyes widened and his mouth clamped shut at his father’s rebuke.
Ryan sighed. “Sorry, Mom.”
She patted his shoulder. “It’s all right, dear. I’m well acquainted with men and their set-tos, especially when they have to do with young women.” She glanced at her husband, and Taylor was surprised to see a dull blush creep across her father’s face.
“Yes, well, I’m sure Gavin was only doing what he thought was best.”
“Right, Grandpa.” Mark cast his father a cautious glance. When Ryan nodded, he went on. “Gavin’s always doing something nice for people. He even lets me drive his Blazer sometimes. Or steer it, anyway,” he amended at the quick frown that crossed his father’s face.
“Yeah, Gavin’s cool.” Mikey reached for another piece of toast. Then he paused, his hand in midreach, and shot Taylor a look. “Hey! I know! You should just marry Gavin! He’s big an’ strong, and he could do all your work for you!”
“What a good idea, son.” Ryan was clearly starting to enjoy the conversation. “Or, better yet, we could have a contest. You know, invite all the able-bodied, eligible men in the area to compete against each other and see who can do the most work the fastest. The prize will be our very own Taylor as a sweet little bride!”
“Ryan …” Lisa’s warning came too late.
“Sure!” Mikey clapped. “I’ll bet ol’ Mr. Wanamuc would come. He’s always watching Aunt Taylor when she comes in his store—”
“Yeah!” Mark’s eyes shone with excitement. “And Eddie Running Elk said Aunt Taylor was real pretty, even if she did keep to herself like a wounded cougar hiding out in the woods. He’d come too, I bet!”
“Oh, I’m sure he would.” Ryan was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes.
Taylor grimaced. “You guys are a laugh a minute.”
“But I still think Gavin would be the best one,” Mikey stated, as though that settled it.
“I’ve always thought so, though I’d like to know what I’m the best one for.”
The group at the table turned as one to stare at the man leaning in the doorway.
“Gavin!” Heat rushed to Taylor’s face. “I didn’t hear your Blazer pull up—”
“A bit hard to with all the racket you Camuses are makin’ in here.” He grinned and came to tousle Mark’s hair and tweak Mikey’s nose.
As the twins jumped from their chairs to wrestle with Gavin, Taylor took the opportunity to regain her composure. With any luck he hadn’t noticed he
r discomfort.
Any hope of that dissolved when he turned to her, grin still in place, dark brows arched. “Now, what’s all this about?”
Her embarrassment almost turned to blind panic when Ryan pulled out a chair and patted it. “Have a seat, Gavin, me boyo, and I’ll tell you all about it! The twins here just made the most fascinating suggestion—”
Taylor bolted from her perch on the counter, uncaring if she dumped the remnants of her hot chocolate on the floor. She all but slam-dunked the mug into the sink, snagged her jacket and hat from the peg by the kitchen door, and grabbed the pile of library books from the counter—all the while nudging Gavin toward the door.
“Sorry.” She paused only long enough to lean down and give her mother and father quick good-bye pecks. “Gotta go! Loads to do! See you later.”
“You will let us know about any response to the ad, dear?”
Taylor paused at the door. “Sure, Mom. And try not to worry, okay? God will work things out. Isn’t that what you two are always telling me?”
“Hmmm,” was all her mother said, and Taylor felt her speculative gaze follow her all the way out the door.
FIVE
AS GAVIN MACEWEN’S BLAZER BOUNCED OVER THE ROUGH roadway leading to the highway, Taylor eased back against the seat and drew a calming breath.
She loved her family. She really did. But some days she would gladly trade them in, part and parcel, for a pack of basenjis. Not so much because she liked the dogs, although she thought they were delightful, but because that particular breed had the marvelous distinction of having no vocal chords.
The very thought of her family being mute was utterly delightful.
“Ah, a smile. So am I safe in assuming you’re not plannin’ to sit there in wounded silence the whole ride to Wilson?”
She glanced over at her friend. “Sorry, Gavin. They just get to be a bit much sometimes, you know?”
“Aye, I know. My family’s the same way, though I must admit they’re even more vocal than yours. Scots are notorious for their volume and verbosity when they’re tryin’ to prove a point.”
“Well then, my family must have some Scot in them somewhere.”
“Either that or it’s the Irish tryin’ to make more of itself than it really is.” He winked and reached out to capture her hand in a brief clasp. “For all of their Irish heritage, though, I have to admit your nephews show a rare insight and intelligence.”
She met his warm gaze and groaned. “You heard it all, didn’t you?”
“Aye. But it’s nothin’ new, now is it? I’ve been tellin’ you for some time now that we do well together, darlin’. You know it’s true.”
“Yes, I know …”
“So why don’t you marry me, Taylor?” Gavin’s broad smile and his dark eyes sparkled with humor and affection. She turned her head and studied him.
Gavin MacEwen had moved into the area about five years ago. Born and raised in Scotland, he had come to help his uncle work his ranch, the Bar T, which was only a few miles from Galloway Glen. When he’d shown up at church on his first Sunday, Josh had been among the first to welcome him. Before long, the two men realized they shared many interests, and a solid friendship was born.
From their first meeting, Taylor had considered the good-humored Scotsman absolutely charming. He had a way of winning people over without really trying, and he’d always treated Taylor with kindness and a winsome courtliness.
Soon they’d become a merry threesome, attending church together, going to movies, and having dinner at each other’s homes. Josh and Taylor watched with interest—and considerable amusement—as Gavin dated a steady succession of women. They never knew who would be accompanying him to their get-togethers, but they didn’t mind. It kept things interesting.
During the months after Josh died, Gavin’s friendship and support became an emotional anchor for Taylor. He was always there to help out, to talk or listen, to nudge her from her depression, or to pray with her.
Remembering those dark days and the blessing Gavin had been, Taylor reached out and squeezed his arm. He was a good friend. But marriage? She just wasn’t sure. With Josh, it had been a lightning bolt. A certainty that this was the man for her above all others.
With Gavin … she loved him, of course. He was a dear friend. But what she felt didn’t really go beyond that. Not yet, anyway.
But Gavin MacEwen wasn’t a man to wait forever. Sometimes he seemed more like a dashing lord of the Scottish Highlands—an image strengthened by the thick, shoulder-length black hair that he often wore tied back in a ponytail. While such a style might have looked odd or out of place on many men, it only increased Gavin’s roguish appeal. An appeal that she wasn’t completely immune to—not when he stared at her that way with those dark eyes.
The direction of her thoughts jolted her, and she felt her cheeks blush. She leaned away slightly, and Gavin’s smile at her withdrawal was gentle.
“It’s not unfaithful to Josh, you know. Being attracted to me.”
Taylor was amazed that such a quietly spoken comment could cut her so deeply. She turned to stare out the window, trying to blink away sudden tears. She was successful, too. Almost. But an errant tear made its defiant way down her cheek, despite her most determined efforts.
“I know it’s hard for you, Taylor. But Josh wouldn’t want you to stop living too. He loved you—and life—too much to want that. I may sound like I’m teasing, but you know I’m serious when I ask you to marry me.”
She chewed her lower lip, then turned to meet Gavin’s understanding gaze. “I know. And I wish I could say yes. You’ve been so good to me, so kind and patient and abiding—”
“For the love of MacDougal, Taylor, you make me sound like the faithful family dog!”
Laughter bubbled out of her. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Aye, but just once I’d like to hear you talk about my massive shoulders, or rippling muscles, or granite jaw—”
“Or your compelling brown eyes or rakish grin or your really cool Blazer—” she cut in, her mouth twitching with mirth.
“Or something that lets me know you’ve noticed me as a man and not just as a friend.”
She crossed her arms and leaned back against the door, giving him a serious appraisal. “Well, I’m not all that impressed with the Blazer. I mean, Luke has one, too, you know. And it’s blue, not green. I mean, isn’t green kind of a sissy color?”
“Taylor.” The caution was a growl.
“Okay, okay. Now that you mention it, I suppose you are somewhat … manly in appearance.”
“Oh, aye! Somewhat is it?” Without warning he pulled the vehicle to the side of the road and shut it off.
“Gavin! What are ya doin’, mon? Have ye gone pure daft?” Her exaggerated Scottish accent only fired the determination in his eyes, and he leaned toward her. With one sinuous movement he stretched his arm across the back of the seat, slipped it around her shoulders, then pulled her close. He smiled down at her, his dark eyes full of mischief.
“Somewhat manly, is it now? Well, my fine lass, we’ll see aboot that …”
His gaze held her captive as he lowered his head. She considered stopping him, pulling away … but something inside her wanted it to happen. She remembered her first kiss with Josh, how the ground had shifted beneath her feet, how her head had spun so she’d thought she’d faint …
Maybe letting Gavin kiss her would show her, once and for all, if they were meant to be more than friends.
She closed her eyes, lifting her lips to his … and waited for the ground to move, for her head to spin … and waited …
And waited.
When Gavin finally lifted his head and looked down at her, she bit her lip.
Nothing. She wasn’t sure what she expected to feel, but it sure wasn’t a big, fat zero!
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Gavin was as adept at kissing as he was at most everything else, but all she’d felt was a kind of cozy warmth, like
when she wore her favorite ragged pajamas and curled up in her old, worn comforter.
Cozy … comfortable …
Oh, dear. Somehow, she didn’t think that was a good sign.
Gavin sat staring down at her, his expression thoughtful. “Well.” His voice was even huskier than usual. Taylor stared up at him in silence. “Well.,” he said again, then shook his head and set her away from him.
Taylor scooted to her side of the seat, wondering what to say to fill the sudden silence.
A deep chuckle came from the other side of the cab, and she risked a glance at Gavin.
“I thought to teach you a bit of a lesson.” Gavin’s eyes glowed with a gentle light. “But I’m thinkin’ maybe I’m the one who learned something.”
“Oh?” It wasn’t exactly the scintillating response she wanted to make, but it was all her confused brain could muster at the moment.
“Aye.” He reached forward to start the Blazer again and ease it onto the road. “Some things aren’t meant to be rushed.”
Taylor turned to him. “Gavin, I’m—”
He laid gentle fingers over her lips. “No, lass. It’s all right. You need time, and I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.” His gaze was rueful as he dropped his hand. “But if you can, have mercy and don’t take any longer than necessary, will you?”
She blinked back the tears that were suddenly begging for release. “I won’t. I promise.”
“Good enough, then. Because I’ll tell you straight, Taylor, you’re the kind of woman who infects a man.”
Her mirth bubbled through the tightness in her throat. “Thanks a lot!”
He gave her a puppy-dog look. “Indeed, you are. And I doubt there’s a cure for it, either. So you’d better agree to marry me soon, else I’ll suffer untold miseries and ailments and die a horrible death from a shattered heart.”
“And what a romantic proposal that is.”
“Face it, lass. We’re meant to be together, you and I. Besides, you won’t find a more handsome or vigorous man, and you know it.”