by Abby Brooks
The next hour passes in silence, except for Chet calling Marry in when he’s ready to shoo out a vaccinated cow. The silence between us pisses me off more and more. I know he prefers it, and the thought of me being irritated and him being happy as a lark is infuriating.
“I was thinking I might take a trip over to the Still ranch and formally ask her dad for his blessing to marry her,” I blurt.
Chet looks up and, without a drop of hesitation in his voice, asks, “You sure that’s a good idea?”
Goddamn you. What’s your problem, anyway?
“What can you possibly think is wrong with that? I’m trying to do the right thing, ya know.”
“Right thing, sure. But is it for the right reason?” Chet asks.
“Yes, it’s for the right reason! You know how I feel about Meredith. She’s always been the one, no doubt about that. Baby or not, I’d be ready to settle down with her.”
Chet nods thoughtfully. “I get that. But will she? Will her dad?”
I regret ever thinking that sharing my wonderful, amazing news with Chet would go any way other than this. I should have left the grand total of people on this ranch having knowledge of the situation at two, Mom and me. At least she was supportive. What’s more, in this moment, I hate him for possibly having a valid point.
“Then I guess I’ll need to make sure they do. Got any useful advice about that? Smart guy.”
Chet sighs. “None that you’d wanna hear, I’m sure.”
The rest of the day drags by with the two of us doing our best to avoid eye contact. We communicate with gestures or grunts as much as possible to minimize the risk we might have to speak to one another again. Meredith and I talk on the phone for a while in the evening, which helps my mood tremendously. Technically, I suppose I neglect to mention sharing the news with Chet. I think she’d be understanding about it, but until I get the all clear that her parents have been informed, I suspect she would be of the opinion that the fewer who know, the better.
It’s not what I want, but like Chet said, it’s not about me anymore.
See, I totally get that. Damned jerk.
I toss and turn most of the night as I try to settle on a plan, all while Chet’s words echo around my thoughts, casting doubt on every idea I come up with.
Around noon the next day I receive a text from Meredith.
Doll: It’s done. They know.
Me: And? How’d it go?
Doll: As expected. Mom cried but was excited by the thought of grandchildren. Dad cursed your name.
Me: Need to come over and get some air?
Doll: No thanks. I think I’m going to drive out to the reservoir for a while. Try and clear my head.
Me: K. Call if you need anything. Love you.
Shit. I just texted love you. Was that okay? Those words haven’t made it into normal conversation, yet.
Doll: I love you too Gabriel.
Phew. Thank God that didn’t blow up on me.
Okay. This may not be perfect timing, but I know her parents know—and—I know she won’t be home. And, I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to ask her dad for his blessing. This may be my only shot, if I want to do things right.
Chet’s words bounce in my head as I tap the brakes before turning into the Still place. Maybe it’s because I figure there’s a fifty percent chance her dad and brothers will castrate me like a bull, so as to prevent something like this from ever happening again. Or, maybe it’s because I haven’t so much as hinted about the topic to Meredith. Either way, I know Chet’s got to be wrong, because this feels right.
I turn onto their property and keep my foot off the gas, content to let the engine set the speed up the drive. No turning back now.
I stop in front of the house, relieved not to find Jim and James standing outside waiting on me like the last time. Shit. Now what? Do I just ring the doorbell like some schmuck selling vacuums? I put the truck in park and kill the engine, but before ever opening the door to get out, the screen door snaps back after reaching the end of its tether. I look towards the house in time to see Jim, red-faced, angry, and staring right at me.
“You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here. Today of all days. You slimy, worthless piece of shit.” Jim stops the screen door with his boot as he stands, blocking the doorway. “She’s not home, so why don’t you go…while you’re able.”
I open the door and slide out of the truck with both hands in the air. “Easy now. Hang on a second. I come in peace.” I make my way around the front of the vehicle. “Honestly, sir I was hoping to talk to you.”
Sir? No one will ever appreciate how much maturity that took.
Meredith’s mother, Janet, stands behind her husband. “Jim,” she says as she places her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s hear what the man has to say.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” I nod as I take the ballcap off my head and make a feeble attempt at fixing my hair.
“Alright,” Jim says begrudgingly. “I’m listening.” Only, his body language says otherwise.
I stand on the porch, literally with my hat in hand, confessing everything to Meredith’s parents. Well, okay, the PG version of everything. I openly admit to the ignorance and hubris I demonstrated as a teenager. I ramble on and on about how the thought of their daughter haunted me over the years. How I knew she was the one and how I had lost her, through no one’s fault but my own. And then I promise, again and again, that I will spend the rest of my life doing whatever I can to make her happy. Thank God Janet is there to offer an occasional sympathetic ahh or smile, because the only things coming from Jim are grunts of acknowledgement and a cold, hard stare.
When I finally ask for his blessing, if I had to bet on my odds, I would put them at about three percent based on his body language and general demeanor.
Without saying a word, Jim steps forward and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into the most uncomfortable bear hug I’ve ever been trapped in. It probably lasts for five minutes. Oh my God above, please help me. He finally releases me and steps back, his face red, and his eyes puffy. “Maybe, just maybe you will prove yourself worthy of my daughter after all,” Jim says in the gruffest voice he can muster. “The jury’s still out on that, son. But if Meredith sees fit to say yes, well, you have my blessing.”
Janet steps onto the porch and pulls both of us in for a hug. “Oh my, I’m so happy. When are you going to do it? And how?”
Shit.
“Well ma’am, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how this conversation was going to go, so I haven’t put a lot of planning into what happens next. Not yet, that is.”
“Well, I’m sure it will be special,” Janet declares. “Just don’t make us wait too long, now.”
“Yes ma’am.” I turn to leave.
The drive back to the ranch is a blur as my mind sifts through what just happened and what needs to happen next. On the one hand, things went better than I anticipated, which is good. On the other hand, Jim hugged me. What the hell? I shudder thinking back on how uncomfortable the situation was.
I’m overjoyed to have his blessing. To this point, that had been the mountain standing between me and my future, but now? Meredith deserves something memorable. How the hell am I going to pop the question?
Chapter Nineteen
Meredith
It’s not that I don’t enjoy talking to Gabe on the phone. It’s become our nightly thing. Most nights we talk until he starts to doze on me. One night he fell fully asleep. I had to just wish him sweet dreams and hang up. But this conversation is different. He’s super excited about something, but he won’t tell me what it is. He keeps dodging the question, telling me it’s nothing. Nothing my butt, mister. My radar is going crazy, and I know the man is up to something. I feel it in my gut.
“Yes, Gabe. Alright, I give. Yes, I suppose—but you are taking your life in your hands by coming here. Okay, if you insist, fine. I’ll be ready when you get here. But you have to promise to stay in the driveway. I mean it,
that’s non-negotiable. Yes, I will be dressed up, but not too fancy. I’m looking forward to seeing you too. Okay now stop, you’re being weird.” I roll my eyes. “Yes, in a cute way. Alright, I’ll see you soon. I love you too. Byyye.” I lay my phone down on the bedside table and replay the conversation. His excitement has me excited too, but also nervous. I don’t typically like surprises, and given the way he’s acting, he’s planning something—I know it. It’s the what’s and the why’s I don’t have a clue about.
And more important, what the hell does a woman wear to be dressed up, but not too fancy? I’m not even sure I know what that means, seeing as he gave precisely zero hints about where we’re going or what we’ll be doing. And why was he so adamant that he picks me up here, knowing full well Daddy’s home?
Stop worrying, everything will be fine, as long as he stays in the truck and I get my tush out the door before Dad knows anything about it. I swear that man has had it out for Gabe since we were teenagers, and I don’t imagine knowing Gabe is the father has done much to change his mind.
I have no information to guide my outfit selection, so I settle on a scallop-hemmed, navy, A-line skirt that hugs my hips in just the right way, but is relaxed enough to hopefully not come across as too formal. That is, assuming formal and fancy mean the same thing. I’ve only ever worn it for work, but the way I see it, I might as well get some mileage out of it, while I still can. Who knows if I’ll ever be this size again. The allure of dressing up has me feeling a little spicy, so I choose a tight fitting, off the shoulder, white body suit for a top.
I’ve showered, shaved—with extra attention given to the bikini line—styled my hair, and finished my makeup. Not bad, all things considered. I stand in front of the full-length mirror, looking myself over from every conceivable angle and second guessing what I see. That is, until I hear two taps from a horn outside. Can it be that time already? I glance at the clock. Aww hell.
I mumble to myself, “Why did you honk? A text would have sufficed.” Do you want Daddy’s special kind of attention? You adorable goof. I swipe my phone from the table, grab my flats off the floor, and turn back for a final check in the mirror before shutting off the light and bustling down the stairs to yell my goodbye’s and don’t wait up’s as I rush out the door.
I stop on the porch, drop my shoes to the ground, and slip my feet mostly into them before running across the coarse gravel driveway. I can’t help feeling like a kid. Like I’m sneaking out right under my parents’ noses. It’s exhilarating, and liberating, and slightly terrifying, all at the same time. Gabe leans across the seat and pushes open the passenger door with a don’t-ask-what-I’ve-been-up-to smile on his face. I jump in the truck and order him to punch it, as I’m certain my father will charge out of the house with his shotgun in a matter of seconds.
But Gabe doesn’t heed my instruction. He doesn’t appear the slightest bit concerned that he’s in enemy territory. No, he simply leans a little farther over the seat and kisses me, then sits upright behind the wheel, fastens his seatbelt, and calmly shifts the truck into gear.
His calm disposition has me confused. “What's gotten into you today?”
Gabe stops at the end of the driveway and looks at me. “Hmm. Now that you’re here with me, everything feels right with the world. Why?”
“Um. Showing up here, do you want my dad to kill you?”
“Who Jim? Nah, I’m not worried about him.”
“Ready to tell me where we’re going, at least?”
Gabe straightens the wheel, then reaches his hand over and places it on mine. “Be patient a little longer. Okay? I want this to be a surprise.”
Ahh, his skin on mine—exactly what I’ve needed. I smile as I cross my arms over my chest. “Clock’s ticking, bub. You know you can only get away with crap like this because you’re so damn hot, don’t you?”
Gabe grins, but otherwise pretends not to hear me. “By the way, Mer—you look amazing tonight. Like, out of this world.”
“Ha. Think you can dig your way out with flattery, do you?” I look out my window to hide my smile.
The way he carries himself, the kindness in his words, the confidence behind his eyes, he always turns me on. But tonight, he's working at an entirely new level. He wears a white collared button down, fitted no less, that’s been carefully pressed, and a pair of dark pleated slacks, also sporting a crisp crease down the legs. Preppy is not his usual style, but it suits him.
It’s only when the sign at the entrance of the reservoir comes into view that I realize where we are. To which, I react in the expected way—by punching Gabe in his shoulder. “Are you serious? Gabe Wilde, if you think for one second you are taking me fishing tonight, you better turn this truck around.”
Gabe holds the wheel steady with one hand while he rubs the sore spot with the other. “Ouch. I thought you come here to clear your head?”
There was so much excitement behind his words earlier, and for what? A lake? “So?”
“So, as far as I know, there’s hardly ever anyone else around. No?”
I relax into the seat a bit. “Okay, supposing that is true. While, it is a lovely evening to sit and watch the birds on the water, why did I have to dress up? I could be wearing a comfy pair of jeans and flip flops. I hardly think the water fowl would complain.”
Gabe bobs his head as he considers my words. “That’s true. I never thought about it like that. I’m sorry, babe. I wanted tonight to be special.” Gabe motions at the wicker basket and blanket on the floorboard of the back seat.
“You made us a picnic!” It doesn’t explain the need for the us to be dressed up, but it shows he’s put real thought into the evening and that there may just be more to this surprise than I know.
“That was the idea—but if you’d rather bail and go someplace else, I don’t mind. Tonight, is all about you.” Gabe stops the truck in the middle of the dirt road and twists in his seat to face me. “I want this evening to be perfect, Doll. Whatever that means to you. Just say the word and we’ll do it.” Gabe pulls my hand to his mouth and deposits several kisses on top.
I’m tempted to tell him my perfect evening is a last-minute flight to Paris and a five-star hotel when we arrive, but I’m not entirely sure the man wouldn’t drop everything and do it. “You are pulling out all your best moves, aren’t you, big guy?”
Gabe’s eyes sparkle. “No moves, beautiful. You get the real, authentic me.”
His words melt me. “Alright then, let’s see what else you have in store.”
Gabe grins and shifts the truck back in gear and we continue down the dirt road, kicking up a dust storm as we go. Slowly, we make our way to the northeast side of the reservoir, only, as we approach the turnaround at the end of the road, Gabe doesn’t turn the wheel. Instead, he touches the brakes to slow the truck down but keeps straight, driving us right off the road.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask as we bump up and down in our seats.
“You’ll see. I want to be sure we have privacy.”
Huh? I don’t think I’ve seen another vehicle since, like five minutes before we turned off the road. Anywhere you want to stop—we’ll have privacy.
We roll over a final bump and then, as if by magic, we’re back on a road, of sorts. It’s barely more than two worn tracks in the dirt, but it shows others have dared to do this before.
I’m about to open my mouth and ask just where in the hell he thinks he’s taking me, but before I get the first word out, he stops the truck and kills the engine. “Here we are.” Gabe opens his door and slides down without another word. Two seconds later, the passenger door opens. Gabe stands there, hand extended, waiting to help me down.
I place my hand in his while my foot reaches for the step rail, only it misses the step, and I slide right off the edge of the seat. My attempt to exit like a proper lady is a total fail.
Gabe catches me around the waist and lowers me to the ground. As my feet find purchase, he slides his hands up my back
, pulling me close. His lips capture mine, soft and sweet, while his hard body presses against mine.
“What’s gotten into you today?” I ask, breathless.
Gabe winks before retrieving the blanket and basket. “That’s for me to know.” He indicates the sand ahead of us. “You may want to take off your shoes.” He guides me to a lonely tree, set back fifteen or twenty paces from the water’s edge. There’s a footpath leading down to the water, surrounded on either side by cattails. Small ripples lap against the shore. “How’s this, love?” he asks, ready to unfurl the blanket.
I’m taken aback by the picturesque reflection of the late afternoon sun on the water. “It’s perfect.” I smile. “Where did you come up with all of this?”
Gabe spreads the blanket and then drops to his knees, setting out plates and wine glasses from the basket. He looks up with a smile. “Don’t worry, I brought sparkling juice.”
He really has thought of everything, hasn’t he?
Gabe continues explaining as he sets up our picnic spot. “Like I said before, I wanted tonight to be different. Memorable. And let’s face it, if you’re looking for both of those around here, you’ve got to get creative.”
“That’s sweet. But why do you want tonight to be memorable? What’s different about tonight from every other night?” I sit on the blanket, my legs folded by my side, curiosity running wild as I try to crack the code of the evening.
Gabe pauses and stares at the ground before he lets out a sigh. “Okay. I give. But you’re really not making this easy, ya know.”
I recognize the truth of the statement and feel bad for it. I take his hand and bring it to my chest. “I’m sorry. You put a lot of time and thought into this evening. More than I was prepared to give you credit for. So, thank you,” I say, humbled.
Gabe’s smile returns. “No worries, Doll. Now uh, you know how I go by the beat of my own drum, right?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s putting it mildly.”