by Liz Isaacson
“I moved from Dallas when I was eighteen,” she said.
“Really? Dallas? I don’t hear any Texas in you.” He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help laughing lightly.
“My parents were not happy,” she said. “I was barely an adult, and I left behind my family, my college scholarship. All of it.”
“Your husband must’ve been something special,” Finn said his voice getting a little quieter.
Amanda took a moment to answer. “He was a unique man, yes,” she said. “I loved him, but he wasn’t without his flaws.”
“None of us are,” Finn said, and Amanda smiled.
“Of course not.” She folded her hands in her lap, a keen sense of missing moving through her. Yes, she’d loved Ronald and the beautiful, comfortable life he provided for her. “The truth is, Finn, I was just as lonely before Ron died as I am now.”
That brought his attention to her, and Amanda tried to smile again. It felt a little unsure on her face, and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “He worked a lot. More than a lot. I…found other ways to fill my time, and losing him was hard. But not in the ways you might imagine.”
Foolishness raced through her. What had she just said? That she loved her husband but didn’t miss him? Why did she feel like she missed him, then?
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I think you do,” Finn said quietly, making another turn. “And I work a lot, too, Amanda. Comes with taking care of animals.”
She looked at him and found the concern in his eyes, the clear question of his workload being a deal-breaker for her. “You’re taking me to lunch in the middle of the day. Actual lunchtime. My husband never did that.”
“Okay,” Finn said, accelerating now that they were out of town. He aimed the truck north, and Amanda turned to watch the scenery go by. She couldn’t believe her choice of conversation topics, and she once again felt way out of her league when it came to Finn. Dating other men hadn’t been this…tumultuous, and she wondered what the difference was.
“Here we are,” he said a few minutes later, easing the truck off the road and into a dirt parking lot beside a building.
“I didn’t know someone had bought this place,” she said, peering through the windshield at a clearly hand-painted sign that said The Open Fire. A picture of three Dutch ovens sat in flames, and she smiled at the simplicity of the place. “There are several cars here.”
“It’s good,” Finn said. “If you like this kind of food.”
She felt the weight of his eyes on the side of her face, and she turned toward him. “I’m sure I will.” She reached for the door handle and slid to the ground, glad she hadn’t worn a skirt for lunch. She’d wanted to, but in the end, it had felt too formal. Like she was trying too hard.
Finn met her at the front of the truck, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. “When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice low and filled with emotion.
“You’re seeing me now,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder in a flirty way.
“I know.” He ducked his head and smiled. “I just want to have something else on the calendar to look forward to.” He met her eyes, and she saw an earnestness there she really liked. “I might be a little lonely too, and you make it less so.”
She searched his face, sure she hadn’t heard him right. Most men weren’t as forward with their feelings as Finn had just been, even the older ones she’d dated.
“Friday night?” he asked, leaning forward like he’d kiss her cheek. He didn’t, but pressed his against hers, so his next, whispered words sent shivers down her spine. “The old city hall in Turnersville has dinner and dancing every Friday night.”
“Is that right?” she asked, thinking of the last time a man had asked her to dance. It had been Ron, in Dallas, the night she’d fallen in love with him. Forty-four years ago.
“Mm hmm,” Finn hummed in her ear. “The food’s terrible, but the dancing is pretty fun.”
“Do you know how to dance, cowboy?” she asked, feeling eighteen again, full of life and light and like her future held endless possibilities.
“I’m not half-bad.” He pulled away, putting a respectable distance between them. “It’s forty minutes to Turnersville from Coral Canyon. Dinner is at six. I could pick you up.”
“I’d like that,” she said with a smile, her stomach swooping at the next date with this gorgeous man. She reached up and re-centered his hat on his head and added, “Now, come on. I’m starving, and you promised me lunch in the middle of the day.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, and Amanda decided it was the best sound in the world.
“Is that what he said?” Amanda asked later that evening, the lunch with Finn still swirling through her head.
“That’s what he said,” Lois Jensen said, pulling down the husks on another ear of corn. “Can you believe it?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Amanda said to her best friend and once-next-door neighbor. She ripped out all the silk on the ear of corn in her hand. “It just doesn’t seem like a tractor should cost that much.”
“Well, it’s not like it used to be.” Lois shook her head, her trim pixie cut barely moving. Amanda had wanted to cut her hair like her friend’s for a while now, but she hadn’t been quite brave enough.
“But Walt’s doing okay in Oklahoma City?” she asked.
“Seems to be,” Lois said, reaching for another ear of corn. “I keep telling him he’ll have to give up the farming conferences soon, but he doesn’t believe me.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “That man. He’s going to be the death of me.” She laughed, and Amanda did too. Walt and Lois had lived down the street from Amanda and Ron while they raised their kids, and they’d been through thick and thin together. Sicknesses, traveling husbands, kids getting in car accidents, going off to college, getting married, all of it.
Amanda didn’t know what she would’ve done without Lois when Ron had died. She sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “I’m seeing someone new.”
“Oh, boy,” Lois said, looking up from her work. She paused, her eyes catching on Amanda’s. “Oh, this seems different than Ryder.”
“He is different than Ryder,” Amanda said. “And Jason.” She tried not to sigh after his name, but she failed.
“Who is he?”
“Finn Barber,” she said, reminding herself that she and Jason were not the right match. “He lives out in Dog Valley.”
“Tell me you won’t move to Dog Valley,” Lois said. “Amanda, please.”
“Don’t sound so horrified,” she said, shaking her head. “I went out there on Sunday, and it wasn’t so bad.”
“You’re kidding.”
“They’ve really spruced the place up in the last twenty years, Lois.” Amanda gave her friend a look. “You’d know that if you ever left Coral Canyon.”
“Why do I need to leave?” Lois puffed out her chest. “Everything I need is right here.”
“You know this corn didn’t come from Coral Canyon, right?”
“It was on the red flatbed in the parking lot at Jenner’s.” Lois kept her eyes on her ear of corn.
“It’s too early for corn in Wyoming.” Amanda shook her head, knowing Lois knew this. Heck, she had a whole garden full of corn that was at least two months away from being ripe.
“So you went to Dog Valley already. Weren’t you just dating Ryder last week?”
“A couple weeks ago,” she said. “Graham and Beau set me up with Finn. We’ve been out a few times is all.”
“And you’re telling me already.”
“Well, I won’t see you again until you need help with the raspberry jam.” Amanda threw her friend a knowing look.
“Not true,” Lois said. “You’re doing that baby quilt tying event at your place next month. I’d have come for that.”
“Oh, of course,” Amanda said with some heavy sarcasm. She and Lois used to go to lunch as young mothers, and she still
enjoyed seeing her friend. But they didn’t have as many stressors as they’d had when they were younger, and they mostly spent time together now when one of them needed help with a big project.
“How’s Kevin doing with the gardening?” she asked.
“Great,” Lois said. “He’s busy, he said.”
Amanda glanced at her friend, sensing they’d moved onto chatting about their kids. As Lois launched into how well her son’s landscaping business was doing, her suspicions were confirmed.
Hey, at least she hadn’t had to answer any questions about her and Finn, the fact that he owned a huge farm and probably owned a dozen cowboy hats, or her trip to Dog Valley.
But secretly, she couldn’t wait for Friday night when she’d get to see him again.
Chapter Eight
Finn slammed on the brakes at the same time he swerved to the side of the road. “What in the world is she doing?” he muttered to himself. He put the truck in reverse and backed up to the house he’d just passed.
Sure enough, old Nancy Goodman was trying to heave a box out of the back of the tiny sedan she shared with her sister.
“Nancy,” he called as soon as he got his window down. “Let me help you with that.” He was no spring chicken himself, but the Goodman sisters had several years on him, and Nancy had been in for back surgery just last fall. No way she should be lifting anything more than her purse.
He hurried to park the truck and get out, jogging over to the trunk of the car. “How are you?” he asked, lifting the fifty-pound box of frozen chicken tenders.
“Good, good,” she said. “Big sale on chicken right now.”
“I can see that.” He grinned at her and started for the front door. “Where’s Kelly?”
“Oh, she went to see our cousin in town,” she said, fitting her key in the lock. Finn literally never locked his house, and he almost starting laughing. He did, however, lock down his stables, so he supposed he couldn’t fault Nancy for keeping things secure at home.
Inside, the ratty furniture and nicked dining room table testified otherwise. They’d probably be better off if someone broke in and stole these things. But then Nancy would never sleep in the house again. Over the years of living down the road from them, he’d learned that Kelly was the stable one. The younger sister who took care of the house, the yard, and the bills.
Nancy suffered from a variety of health problems, both mental and physical, and Finn had come by to take care of their yard more than once in the last twenty years.
“Where do you want this?” he asked, seeing the kitchen counter was full of things. Dishes, towels, notebooks.
“Just set it there,” she said, going straight for the recliner and collapsing into it. Her breath wheezed through the house, and Finn had the strangest urge to open all the blinds and all the windows. Let in some fresh air and some light to breathe life into this place.
“I’ll get the rest,” he said cheerfully, retracing his steps to the car to get the rest of the groceries. As he unpacked them and started opening cupboards to find where things went, he asked, “How did Kelly get to town if you have the car?”
“Selena came and picked her up,” Nancy said, and Finn detected some jealousy there. He didn’t know what to do about it, as he didn’t spend a lot of time with the sisters. He mostly just watched out for them and helped when and where he could.
“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” he asked, opening the freezer to see if there was room for the chicken inside. Not even a little bit. Frustration pulled through him, as he was already running a bit late to get home, shower, and get back to Coral Canyon in time to pick up Amanda for their dinner and dancing date that night.
“Yes,” Nancy said. “It’s in a few weeks.”
“I’m sure Kelly will make you a nice cake,” he said. “Nancy, do you have a chest freezer? In the garage maybe?” He started toward the door that must lead to the garage.
“No,” she barked. “And you can’t go out there.” She got to her feet awkwardly, but quickly, and approached him. “I’ll take care of the chicken. Thanks so much, Finn.” She practically shoved him out onto the porch, and he was surprised enough to just go.
She closed the door with a smile that looked half genuine and half panicked, and Finn stood there wondering what had just happened.
His mind whirred, going down all kinds of strange and delusional paths. Surely he’d have noticed a smell if they had a body or something out there…. Right?
“Not if it’s in the freezer,” he muttered, sure these two nice little old ladies didn’t have any bodies in their garage. He couldn’t help that his mind had gone there, and he went down the steps and around the side of the house.
The garage had windows on this side, and he cupped his hands to peer through the dirty glass. It took him several long moments to realize what he was looking at.
“Trash,” he said. “Even if there was a body in there, they’d never find it.” So they were hoarders. Or at least one of them was, though he hadn’t noticed it being too terrible inside the house. Sure, it had a smell, and yes, there were things piled everywhere. But nothing like he’d seen on those reality TV shows.
He got in the truck, satisfied his nearest neighbors weren’t going to pose any danger to him, and went home. The dogs jumped down from the back of the truck, Licorice barking as the three of them rounded the front corner of the house on their way to the bigger backyard.
He cracked the door off the deck so they could get in when they wanted to, and he jumped in the shower.
And hour later, he pulled up to Amanda’s house to find her sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch. As he climbed the steps, he admired the pretty white dress she wore, with colorful flowers embroidered along the hem and down the sleeves.
“Don’t you look nice?” he asked, sitting in the chair on the other side of the small table.
“Thank you,” she said, indicating the second glass of lemonade sitting there. “It’s not black coffee, but it’s much too hot for that anyway.”
He lifted the glass to his lips. “Did you make this?” he asked, the sourness making his taste buds cramp before he’d even taken a sip.
“I sure did.”
He drank then, pure pleasure rolling through him at the tangy yet sweet liquid. “It’s delicious,” he said.
“Are you ready for dancing?” she asked, standing up.
He let her take his hand though he didn’t need her help getting up. He kept her fingers in his and pulled her close to him. “You’re stunning,” he whispered, feeling sparks come alive in every part of his body. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
Amanda giggled, grabbed onto his shoulders, and they swayed right there on her porch. “Don’t get too excited yet, cowboy,” she said. “You haven’t seen me dance, and I’m pretty sure I have two left feet.”
Finn didn’t even care. He just wanted to be with Amanda, and that concept alone was foreign enough to have him simply sweeping his lips along her cheekbone and saying, “All right. Let’s go.”
The food at the dinner wasn’t good, as Finn had predicted it wouldn’t be. He leaned toward Amanda and whispered, “We’ll get something good on the way home, okay?”
She’d put her fork down at that moment, and once the table and chairs had been cleared, it was time for dancing. “May I?” he asked, bowing slightly and offering her his hand.
She giggled again, and while she was a mature woman, the sound elicited something inside him Finn thought he’d never feel again.
Desire.
He wanted to kiss her right then and there on the dancefloor, but he didn’t. He knew it was too early, and he certainly didn’t want their first kiss to be in front of anyone else.
“My sons are hosting a Cupcake Wars event at the lodge in a couple of weeks,” Amanda said, swaying easily with him. “Everyone needs a partner to participate, and I thought maybe you’d like to be mine.”
Warmth filled Finn, and he gr
inned down at her. “What does that entail?”
“You have to try to beat my cupcakes,” she said, a sly smile on those full lips. “So you bake your cupcakes, fill them, frost them, decorate them. Then everyone judges and a winner is declared.”
Finn spun her away from him and snapped her right back into his arms. “And what gave you the idea that I know how to bake?” He wasn’t even sure why cupcakes needed to be filled.
She clung to his shoulders in such a way that Finn would’ve probably declared he could build a submarine if she said she’d spend time with him while he did it. She tipped her head back as she laughed, and Finn couldn’t help staring at her throat.
Her very kissable throat.
Reining in his fantasies, he managed to smile at her when she looked at him. “So we wouldn’t really be partners. We’d be competing against each other.”
“I can see if they’re doing partners this time,” she said. “They started doing it every so often about a year ago. Jason and I—” She went mute as if someone had pressed a button behind her ear that made her vocal chords turn off.
Finn watched the panic parade across her face. He leaned down as the song slowed. With her fully in his arms, he said, “Amanda, I know you dated before me.”
She said nothing but pressed in closer to him.
“Was Jason your last boyfriend?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered. “Ryder was, but we only went out for a couple of weeks. Jason and I…we were together for just over two and a half years.”
“Years?” Finn couldn’t help the incredulity from his voice. He pulled back a little and looked at her. “Really? That long?” Why would anyone date Amanda for that long and not make her his? Put a diamond on that finger? Heck, Finn was already thinking about it, and he’d met her a week ago.
“We had a very complicated relationship,” she said, swallowing afterward. “Anyway, he and I competed as a team once in the family shenanigans of cupcake baking.”
“Did you win?” he asked, somehow needing to know. As if it mattered. He didn’t even know who Jason was, but it was clear by the look on Amanda’s face that he’d been important to her.