by Glynna Kaye
“Not any time soon, honey. And if and when he ever does have kids, they’ll be tiny babies and won’t be big enough to go fishing with you right away.”
“Oh.”
Sandi peeked again at her watch, wishing Arizona went on daylight saving time like most of the country. Even before the sun actually set, the towering ponderosa pines blocked the light still filtering between the western clouds. She didn’t look forward to walking along the shadowy, tree-lined mile-and-a-half stretch home.
Early in the afternoon it seemed like a fun adventure to traverse the sun-bathed, graveled road. To avoid the glut of summer visitors fighting for a parking space. She never imagined it would be dark by the time they set off…
Nevertheless, the day’s effort had been worthwhile and with each coin dropped into the money bag, her spirits had risen. If museum revenues for the day and the horse show concession did as well as the snow cones, they should be good to go on the rent increase next month.
But what about the next one?
And the one after that?
Surely it wouldn’t come down to losing the museum while she was president? That she’d have to endure the shame of being at the society’s helm should such a disaster happen. She had to trust God on this one, or she’d be up all night worrying about it. Again.
She glanced at her watch once more. Now all she wanted was to get home to the cozy confines of Bradshaws-in-the-Pines.
Before dark.
True to his word, Bryce swung back by the Warehouse thirty minutes later. He waited off to the side, out of the way, as Sandi showed two ladies he recognized from the church how to operate the snow cone machine. Good. Her reinforcements had finally arrived.
Even under the harsh, bare-bulb light of the Warehouse’s porch, she sure looked sweet tonight, with shiny hair grazing her cheek and her bare arms toned. Pretty dress, too. Patterned with tiny blue-and-white checks and belted at a trim waist, it draped over her hips and flared into a full skirt that swayed with her every move. He took a deep breath and looked away. He shouldn’t be noticing that kind of stuff. Although when he had gotten together with Joe this week, he’d been assured God had designed him to notice, just not to dwell on it or take inappropriate action. He sure was glad Joe understood all this God stuff and was willing to share.
“Earl will be by at ten,” Sandi assured the two women. “He’ll pick up the money bag and secure everything to use again on Monday.”
Taking Gina’s hand, she said goodbye to Sharon and stepped off the porch. He pushed himself away from the stone wall as she approached.
“Oh.” She halted. “Bryce.”
Was she dismayed to see him? Pleased? He couldn’t tell.
“Finishing up for the night? Ready for something to eat?”
“Gina’s fading fast. I need to get her tucked in for the night. I’ll grab something to eat later.”
He glanced down at the sleepy-eyed girl who smiled up at him but without as much wattage as usual.
“I can walk you to your car.”
“Thanks, but we didn’t drive.”
He frowned. “You walked all the way from out on Timber Ridge Road?”
She laughed and his ears welcomed the sound.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Having second thoughts now that the sun’s set.”
“I can give you a ride.”
Anxious eyes met his. What was he, a big bad wolf? What kind of stories had Keith and her mother-in-law filled her head with?
She looked down at the weary Gina, then back at him—options considered, the decision made. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, we’d appreciate it.”
“No trouble at all.” He picked up the little girl, who weighed about as much as a snowflake. Curled right into his arms as if she belonged there. Poor thing, no way would she make it all the way out to the Bradshaw place on her own two legs, and she was getting too big for Sandi to carry that far. “My SUV’s at Grandma’s.”
Sandi nodded and they headed off along the busy street, skirting vendors and an increasingly boisterous crowd as square-dancing couples in their brightly colored regalia launched into another toe-tapping dance. Neon lights. Popcorn crunching underfoot. The tantalizing scent of pizza, hot dogs and cotton candy. He didn’t give much thought to his surroundings, though, being a little too conscious of Sandi at his side and thankful for the opportunity to come to her rescue when it was evident she wasn’t keen on walking home alone. For whatever reason, he liked the feeling of being her protector. Her guardian.
Just off Main Street, the short distance down the dimly lit route to Grandma’s was a much quieter one. But he hadn’t expected to find the side street lined on both sides with bumper-to-bumper cars—and one parked smack across the driveway of the fenced-in yard of the museum. Trapping his SUV.
He surveyed the situation with dismay. No telling when the vehicle’s owner would show up again. “Looks like we’ve encountered one of the hazards of living so close to Main Street when there’s a special event.”
“I appreciate your offer anyway. I’ll call Meg or Sharon.”
He needed to tell her about his plans for the museum. Give her a heads-up. Get Grandma off his back. Get it out in the open and over with. No time like the present.
“You have anything against walking? Nice night.” He didn’t wait for Sandi’s response, but patted the leg of the child nestling in his arms. “You ready for a walk home, little gal?”
Gina nodded, settling more deeply into his arms, tucking her head under his neck. His heart reveling in her unhesitant trust made him all the more determined to see them safely to their destination.
“Then let’s do it.”
Not waiting for her mother’s approval, he turned back toward Main Street and started off. But a dozen steps along, not sensing Sandi at his side as she had been before, he halted. Looked back to where she still stood.
Even in the dim light, he could read her almost disoriented expression. Someone else calling the shots tonight left her flummoxed. But he knew better than to laugh.
“You comin’?”
It was warmer than usual this evening, so why was she trembling inside? Even had goose bumps on her arms as if she’d just consumed a gallon of ice cream.
She sensed Bryce looking down at her as they walked beside the starlit road, but she kept her eyes focused on the flashlight-illuminated dimness in front of her, trying to keep her footing on the rutted path. He’d laughed at the miniature, key chain-clipped device she’d pulled from her purse but, hey, it was doing the trick.
“I think Gina’s asleep already.” His words came softly. “She’s breathing pretty steady.”
He shifted her daughter in his arms, then let his free hand drop to his side. It brushed hers for a fleeting second, and her heart leaped to an accelerated tempo.
“I should have left her with a sitter, but she wanted to make snow cones. And we never have nearly enough time together to suit me.”
“Because of work? I imagine things have been tough financially since you lost Keith.”
“God’s been faithful. Our needs are more than met. But the part-time Warehouse job picks up some of the extras.”
Extras like display cases for the future veterans exhibit at the museum, complete with recessed lighting, adjustable glass shelves, commercial safety glass and keyed security locks. She had them all picked out.
Dare she tell him?
Or would he think her foolish for wanting a memorial to her husband? He didn’t seem to think much of what he called “digging through musty old stuff that belonged to dead people.” Already told her she needed to get a life.
His hand brushed hers again, all but setting her fingertips on fire, and she eased a bit farther from him. Like a gentleman, he’d taken the traffic side of the road as they’d set off on the uneven shoulder surface. But she’d no more than put some distance between them when she stumbled. His hand shot out, found hers. And without thinking, she grasped it, allowi
ng him to steady her, prevent her from sliding down into the weed-and-rock-filled ditch next to them.
To her alarm, he didn’t turn her hand loose once she’d righted herself. She should pull free. Not let her fingers continue to meld into his. But it felt good. Secure and warm. Safe. As though someone cared.
She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths.
“Thanks for walking us home, Bryce.”
“Happy to do it.” She sensed the smile in his voice. “Need the exercise.”
As if he looked as though he needed any more of that.
She drank in another lungful of the pine-scented air. “When I first came to Canyon Springs, I couldn’t get used to how dark nights get around here.”
“That’s right. You’re a city girl.” He jiggled her hand playfully.
The already irregular cadence of her breathing stalled. “Don’t laugh, but I’d lie awake at night in the trailer, listening to all the things that go bump in the night. Would convince myself the prisoner who’d escaped two hundred miles from here was standing outside my bedroom window. The stillness freaked me out. And the dark. I didn’t think I’d be able to stay here. Especially way out at the trailer.”
He didn’t respond, except to adjust his clasp on her hand. He probably thought she was a dork. Her confession probably confirmed in his mind that Keith had to put up with more than any man should ever have had to.
“You were afraid,” he repeated at long last.
Sensing him gazing down at her, she forced a nervous laugh. “I know it sounds silly, but I can admit it now. I was terrified after Keith and I got married and he left me here alone.”
“Did he know that?” An unexpected harshness grazed his tone.
“I knew it would seem silly, so I came up with just about every reason under the sun why he needed to get me out of here—except that one.”
“It’s not silly to be scared of something that might be worth being scared about. You should have told him.”
“He’d have laughed.”
“I don’t think he’d have laughed.”
“No? But you probably would have if he’d have told you.
Be honest, you’d have thought I was a big baby making a big deal about nothing.”
He seemed to be mulling that one over in his mind. Of course he’d have laughed. Would have used it as ammunition against her. To drive a wedge between her and Keith.
“You still get scared at night?”
His question surprised her. “Sometimes.”
Silence hung between them except for the gravel crunching under their feet.
“I can get some motion lights set up at your place if you want me to. You know, the kind that come on if someone walks by? Just put it on your checklist and it’s as good as done.”
“So every time a skunk strolls past, a spotlight catches him in the act? Thanks, but I’m starting to appreciate the starry skies and the quiet nights.”
Up the road headlights punctured the darkness, and in unspoken unison they dropped each other’s hand as a rumbling diesel pickup barreled past, illuminating them in a blinding flash.
She took a relieved breath. Good. That was better.
But she hadn’t taken half a dozen steps, her eyes still adjusting once more to the darkness, when his big hand caught hers again.
Chapter Fourteen
“I don’t want you to be afraid, Sandi.”
He gave the soft fingers tucked in his a gentle squeeze. He wouldn’t allow it. Not if there was anything he could do about it.
Sandi had been scared.
That’s why she’d nagged Keith about moving. About relocating to a bigger community. Closer to her family in Missouri. Not because she was a spoiled, bossy brat, but because she was scared. When Keith had mentioned his concerns about his bride’s objections to Canyon Springs, Bryce told his buddy in no uncertain terms he shouldn’t let her push him around, that she’d married him for better or for worse. Needed to learn who wore the pants in the family. She should stop her whining and stay put right where he’d left her.
But she’d been scared.
What a world-class jerk I’ve been, Lord.
She’d been pregnant that first year, too. In a town filled with strangers. Far from family. The situation probably hadn’t improved much even when Gina came along, but she hadn’t wanted to admit her fear. Didn’t want Keith—and his best buddy—to think her silly.
“Thank you again, Bryce, for seeing us home.”
Her soft voice interrupted his self-condemnation as she slipped her hand from his, leaving his own feeling empty. Bereft. But they’d already come to the driveway of her fenced-in yard, and she was right. It was pitch-dark out here.
“I can drive you back to town,” she offered.
“Thanks, but you need to get Gina to bed. I wasn’t making it up when I said I need the exercise. I’m trying to keep in shape for firefighter quals. I’m wearing tennies tonight, so I’ll jog back.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
They stood for an awkward moment, as if both waiting for the other to say something more. Then she led the way up the short drive to the bottom of the front deck’s steps.
“I can take my sleepyhead daughter now.”
Loath to turn loose of the sweet, warm weight cradled in his arms, he nodded toward the door. “Let me get her up the stairs for you.”
Sandi moved ahead of him to unlock the entrance, then turned toward him once again.
“I enjoyed our walk, Sandi.”
“Me, too.”
Could she hear his heart pounding? Sense his nervousness? This had all the makings of first-date ill-at-ease goodbyes. He couldn’t see the details of her face, her expression, in the tree-shadowed dimness, but only an idiot wouldn’t have been aware of the voltage crackling between them.
He leaned down…and slipped Gina into her arms. Straightened up and stepped away.
“So, Sandi,” he said, attempting to bring his pulse rate back into the normal range. He would have to go and notice how good she smelled when he bent to deposit Gina into her embrace. “What are you still doing here? In Canyon Springs?”
He heard a quick intake of breath. Then after a long moment her words came softly. “I’m here because it’s what Keith wanted.”
“But it wasn’t what you wanted.”
“No. Not at the beginning. But this is where he wanted to raise Gina. And it’s where I hope, in some small way, to honor him in a community he loved.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I haven’t told anyone else.” She paused again, as if debating what she intended to share next. “But I’m determined to convince the historical society to turn that back bedroom, the one we use for storage, into an exhibit to honor local military veterans. And to get them to name it in memory of Keith. I’ve been saving for quality display cases for years, hoping that will nudge them in the right direction.”
An invisible hand socked him in the gut.
Great. Just great.
But right now didn’t seem like the time to tell her that wasn’t going to happen.
“That’s very noble, Sandi.”
“Noble? No. It’s the least I can do for Keith. For his mom.” Gina stirred in her arms. “I guess I’d better get her inside. Good night, Bryce. And thank you again for seeing us home.”
“My pleasure.” He tipped his hat as he held the door open for her. Saw her safely inside.
When she closed it and he heard the dead bolt slide home, he whipped off his hat, trotted down the wooden steps—and took off running.
Had the jog back to town enabled Bryce to sleep any better than she had?
Disgruntled, her insides still quaking like an aspen leaf, Sandi pulled a wicker picnic basket—a much-used wedding present—from a shelf in the hall closet and carried it to the kitchen table. At church that morning the Diaz family had invited her and Gina to join them for a cookout early this evening—to which she’d agreed
only after making sure a certain someone hadn’t been invited, as well.
Tomorrow was the fifth anniversary of Keith’s death. Fourth of July. No doubt the tenderhearted Meg remembered and wanted to make certain she had something to do to keep her mind occupied. Along the same lines, LeAnne’s kids had insisted their mother spend the holiday weekend with them in the Valley.
She shook her head. Were they a pitiful pair or what?
A guilty pang stung her conscience. She hadn’t been thinking of Keith today, but Bryce. Not remembering how Keith had kissed her, but wondering what it might be like to kiss a certain big, bearded army sergeant.
To her annoyance, she’d tossed and turned for hours last night. Relived over and over what she’d said, what he’d said, attempted to reconstruct the walk home from start to finish. What was she anyway? Sixteen?
She pulled from the refrigerator a sealed container of the now-chilled macaroni salad she’d made earlier that afternoon. Wrapped it securely in a tea towel so it wouldn’t sweat, and slipped it into the oversize basket. A jar of dill spears followed. A container of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Woven paper plate holders. A bag of potato chips.
Should she stop by Wyatt’s Grocery for a jug of juice for the kids?
Her mind unwillingly tracked once again to last evening. Had Bryce taken her hand prior to or after she told him about being afraid in Canyon Springs? If it was after, his reaching out to her meant he only felt sorry for her. No, wait. Didn’t he take her hand before that? Even before the speeding truck came along? She’d been so shocked at his boldness, so confused, so tingling all over that her brain had gone into meltdown mode, muddling the minutes between town and the trailer.
But one thing that wasn’t muddled was the memory of him as they reached the trailer door. Him holding Gina. Standing too close. Bending down toward her. How certain she’d been that he intended to kiss her—and she’d had no intention of resisting.
Had she totally lost her mind?