The Trouble With Valentine's Day

by Rachel Gibson

"Don't be absurd."

  "You knew I was working on perfecting the recipe and you stole it." Never mind that he'd mostly used it as a ruse to get her out to his house so he could get her naked.

  She took a spatula and stirred the granola around. Taunting him. "It wasn't a secret recipe like Colonel Sanders's seven herbs and spices."

  "You knew I was working on it to sell in my store."

  She shrugged. "You snooze. You lose."

  "What?" He wanted to grab her and shake her and press her so tight into his chest that he just absorbed her into his body.

  She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "Mmm. Want a bite?"

  God, she had balls. He loved that about her, and he wanted his life to go back the way it had been before she'd decided he needed to make a permanent commitment. "Have you given up your crazy idea to get married?"

  "To you? Yes." She folded her arms beneath her breasts and said, "Harvey Middleton's son, Brice, asked me out."

  It had been less than twenty-four hours since she'd told him she loved him and she already had a date? "You can't go out with him."

  "Why?"

  Because I said so probably wasn't a good answer. "Because he's losing his hair."

  She looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. More than likely because he felt like he'd lost it. "Go out with him. It's none of my business," he said and turned away. He moved from the back room to the front of the store. If Brice Middleton put his hands on Kate, Rob was going to put him in a head lock and feed him his lunch.

  Grace looked up from a conversation she was having with Stanley. She smiled. "How are you feeling, Robert?"

  "Compared to what?" he snapped.

  So much for not letting Kate make him crazy.

  Nineteen

  A slight breeze rippled across Fish Hook Lake, and the warm afternoon rays reflected like tiny mirrors on the waves. The hem of Grace Sutter's cream chiffon dress fluttered about her knees as she read the last line of her poem to her groom and those gathered at Sockeye Park.

  The bride and groom stood beneath a lattice arbor entwined with wildflowers on a small grassy point. A preacher from the nondenominational church in town presided over the ceremony. Kate stood behind her grandfather and watched his hands shake as he pulled his poem from his pocket. He unfolded it and began:

  "My life was filled with black and gray,

  all my sorrow running into the next day."

  Kate lowered her gaze to her pink toenails and listened as her grandfather spoke of his lonely life before Grace. She concentrated on her favorite Fendi sandals. The beige straps wrapped her feet in soft leather, and a gold sleeve hung from the heel and made a little sound when she walked. Her favorite shoes usually boosted her spirits and made her feel like a diva.

  Today, nothing was making her feel better. She slid her gaze across the six-foot patch of grass that separated her toes from Rob's black leather shoes. The cuffs of his charcoal trousers broke over the laces, and razor-sharp creases ran up each leg to the bottom of his suit jacket. In one hand at his side, he held his mother's small bouquet of white roses pointed at the ground. Kate didn't allow her gaze to roam any further, but she didn't have to to know exactly how good he looked.

  Rob and Grace had arrived at the park shortly after Kate and Stanley. Watching him walk his mother up the aisle, Kate's chest had gotten tight and her breathing a little shallow. He'd cut his hair short, shaved off his soul patch, and trimmed the Fu Manchu framing his lips. In his gray suit and short hair, he was GQ handsome, but you would still never mistake him for a male model. He had too much testosterone just beneath the surface to allow anyone to gel his hair or spritz him down with water.

  She hadn't spoken to Rob since the day he'd barged into the M &S, raging about his granola. That had been a week ago, and her heart had yet to begin healing. In fact, it seemed to break just a little more every time she saw him. In the past, with each heartache, she'd been able to tell herself that she was fine. She was okay. This time she wasn't so fine. She was definitely not okay.

  Stanley finished his poem, then Kate handed him the simple gold wedding band from the purse hanging on her shoulder. She smiled at her grandfather and Grace as they promised to love each other until their deaths. She felt the pull of Rob's gaze on her face, and she looked at him. She couldn't seem to help it.

  His green eyes looked back at her from across the short distance, and she was reminded of the day she'd first seen him standing in the M &S, his face void of expression. He was a lot better at pretending he didn't care than she was. Or maybe he wasn't pretending at all.

  The sound of the preacher pronouncing Stanley and Grace husband and wife pulled Kate's attention back to the ceremony. She pushed up the corners of her mouth a little more and looked out at the guests seated on chairs borrowed from the grange. Her mother and father sat in the front row beside her brother Ted and her great-aunt Edna. Kate's other two brothers were stationed overseas and hadn't been able to make it.

  Applause broke out when Stanley and Grace Caldwell kissed, then the guests stood and moved toward the couple. Kate took a step back, and her heels sunk into the grass. The town's widow posse was the first to step up and congratulate Grace. Some of them even managed to look sincere.

  Kate's mother and father hugged Grace and welcomed her and Rob to the family. Kate was pretty sure they meant it, too. Anyone just looking at Stanley could tell that Grace made his life better.

  Rob was Stanley's stepson now. Even if Kate managed to avoid him all year, she'd have to see him at Thanksgiving and Christmas. How was she ever going to get over her feelings if she had to see him across the parking lot all the time or talk to him over a turkey and ham dinner?

  She needed a vacation. Some distance. Perhaps when her grandfather and Grace got back from their honeymoon, Kate would drive to Vegas and catch up with her friends.

  Maybe she should move. Her grandfather was happy now. He didn't need her, and there was a whole big world outside of Gospel city limits. A world without Rob Sutter-except on holidays.

  From a few feet away, Kate recognized Rob's deep laughter, and she looked over at him. Rose Lake had her hand on his shoulder and had raised on her toes to say something into his ear. Kate turned her attention to the preacher and thanked him. She chatted with the Aberdeens, and all the while she managed to keep her smile in place and pretend she wasn't dying inside.

  Yeah, she should move, she decided. But she really didn't want to. Not right now. She'd just started to fit in. She'd joined the Mountain Momma Grafters and would attend her first meeting the following night. She'd volunteered to bring refreshments and planned to introduce them to the wonders of gourmet food and jalapeno jelly. Gospel was just starting to feel like home, which was scary if she thought about it too hard.

  Kate excused herself and wandered over to the covered pavilion, where the caterers Grace had hired from Sun Valley were setting up. She helped them set out mints and nuts and looked up as she heard the unmistakable sound of Iona Osborn's quad cane.

  Iona wore a red dress with so much blue rickrack on the ruffles that she looked like she was about to break into a square dance. "Hi, Iona."

  "Hello, Kate." She stopped and looked over the three-tier white-and-blue wedding cake. "Did you make the cake?"

  "No. I haven't graduated past cupcakes."

  "You did a good job with those." Kate was about to thank her when she asked, "When is it your turn to get married?"

  Kate thought the obvious answer to the question was, When I get asked. She didn't bother stating the obvious, though. "I just haven't found the right person yet," she answered. But she had. Or at least she thought she had. She glanced over Iona's ten-gallon pile of hair at Rob. He stood talking to her brother, pointing out at the lake toward town. The two shook hands, then Ted made his way toward Kate beneath the pavilion.

  "How many times have you been asked when you're getting married?" he asked as he reached for a glass of punch.

  "About ten. How about you
?"

  "Five." He drained the small glass. "You win."

  This was one competition she didn't want to win. She was feeling a little testy, and her face hurt from smiling. Her head was pounding, too.

  Great-aunt Edna grabbed a piece of cake and moved to stand by Kate and Ted. Edna's skin looked as tough as an old army boot, and Kate wasn't sure if that was due to her pack-a-day habit or the toxic effects of her bologna pie. "Are you next?" Edna asked as she reached for a little cup of nuts.

  Kate didn't have to ask her what she meant. "No."

  "Well dear, if your grandfather can find someone at his age, there's hope for you."

  Kate tilted her head to the side. "Did you know that Harvard researchers have concluded that Coca-Cola is not an effective spermicide?"

  "Huh?" Edna stared, her mouth slightly agape.

  Kate patted her great-aunt on her bony shoulder. "That's good info to know if you ever find yourself without a condom."

  Ted laughed and put his arm around Kate. "What do you say we cut out of here and find a bar?"

  It was early enough that the Buckhorn wouldn't be filled up with knuckleheads. "Wanna play a game of pool?"

  He smiled. "I'm not going to let you win."

  They moved from beneath the pavilion. "You never let me win."

  "Kate." She didn't have to turn to know who'd called her name. Even after everything, the sound of his voice still poured over her like warm rum. She took a deep breath and turned to watch Rob walk toward her.

  He stopped a few feet from her and looked into her eyes. "Do you mind if I steal your sister for a few minutes, Ted?"

  "No, I don't mind. Kate?"

  She handed her keys to her brother. "Wait for me at my car."

  Rob waited until Ted had walked away before he said, "Why are you leaving so soon?"

  Because you don't love me and it's too bard to stay. "Ted and I are going to go play pool and catch up on what's been happening since Christmas."

  He'd unbuttoned his jacket, and he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his pants. "Are you planning to tell him about us?"

  She shook her head. "There's nothing to tell."

  "There could be."

  It was so tempting, even now, to believe that. But it was an illusion. A fantasy. "I knew when I got involved with you that I would end up hurt. I should never have told myself that I could handle it. I couldn't and I can't. It's over, Rob."

  He rocked back on his heels and rubbed one hand across his chin and mouth. "The thing is, I think I might be in love with you."

  Might? She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. He looked at her as if he expected something from her. It was just too painful, and she turned to walk away before she could give in to the tears stinging the backs of her eyes.

  His grasp on her arm stopped her. "I tell you that I think I love you and you walk away?"

  "Either you love someone or you don't. Thinking you might be in love is not the same as being in love. It's not enough."

  His gaze narrowed. "And a piece of paper and ring are going to ensure that I do love you enough?"

  "No, but they're the first step to spending your life with the person you love."

  He held up his hands. "Have you seen the divorce rate lately?" he asked incredulously as he lowered his arms. "You can bet every damn one of those couples thought they'd spend the rest of their lives loving each other."

  "Keep your voice down. You're at your mother's wedding, for God's sake." She folded her arms across her chest, across her heart. "I happen to think your mother and my grandfather will be happy and stay married to each other."

  "Yeah, but they're still only one out of sixty. Since you love statistics so much, I think you'd know that one."

  Actually, it was 50 percent. "I don't care about statistics. I care about me. Finally. I care enough about me to never settle for less than I deserve."

  "You think you deserve marriage?" he asked, but he had lowered his voice. "Babe, no one deserves that slice of hell on earth."

  "I still want it. I want to try with someone who loves me enough to try with me. I want to grow old looking at the same face every morning. I want to grow old looking at the same face every night at the dinner table. I want to be one of those old couples you see still holding hands and laughing after fifty years of marriage. That's what I want. I want to be someone's forever."

  "So that's it. I either marry you or you walk out of my life? Just like that? That easy?"

  No, it wasn't easy. Breaking up with Rob Sutter was breaking her heart, but it would be so much worse if she let it go on.

  "Marriage is just a piece of paper," he scoffed.

  "If you believe that, no wonder your marriage to Louisa ended in disaster."

  Rob watched Kate walk away, and he felt his jaws clinch. He'd just told her he might be in love with her, and she'd thrown it right back in his face.

  He turned, and his gaze landed on Dillon Taber and his wife, Hope, standing a few feet away under the shade of a tree. Dillon turned his face toward his wife and pressed his forehead to Hope's temple. He said something that made her kiss him. A quick peck that had the sheriff sliding his hand down his wife's back to the curve of her behind. A familiar touch between two people who knew each other intimately.

  That's what Kate wanted, and if Rob were honest with himself, that's what he wanted too. But at what price? A piece of paper and a gold ring? Those things didn't make people stay in love.

  Rob reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He found his mother and Stanley and told them good-bye. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. He had too much on his mind.

  He went home and fell into his usual routine of tying flies to take his mind off his troubles with Kate. It didn't work, and after he closed the store the next day, he grabbed his fishing rod and headed to the Big Wood.

  The early evening sun turned the clouds orange and vibrant purple. He pulled his waders and vest over his T-shirt and headed into the river. The solace and comfort he usually found in the steady rhythm of stripping and casting his fly eluded him. The peace of mind he always found out in the open with nothing but the sound of the river and occasional dove evaded his grasp.

  He thought about what Kate had said yesterday at the wedding. She thought marriage meant that people would love each other forever and never be lonely. He loved Kate. He didn't just think he did. He knew it down to the bottom of his soul, but there were worse things than being lonely.

  He cast his nymph downstream on the edge of a deep pool. The fly drifted a few feet, and within seconds he felt the nibble and tug at the end of his line. He pulled the rod tip up and reeled in the excess. His rod bowed in half, and he knew he had a big fish on his hook. It shook and rebelled, then it took off downriver and gave him one hell of a fight.

  Fifteen minutes after it began, the fight was over and a sixteen-inch rainbow flipped its tail against Rob's waders. He lifted the big fish from the water and admired the colors.

  "Isn't she a beauty," he said before he realized he was alone. He was so used to Kate being by his side that he'd spoken out loud. In just a short period of time, she'd become an intrinsic part of his life.

  Gently he removed the hook and turned the fish loose. The current pushed against his legs as he moved through the river toward the shore. He leaned his rod against the HUMMER and unlocked the back. Just because Kate wasn't around didn't mean he had to be alone. Not like before. Just because he didn't have Kate didn't mean he couldn't have a woman in his life.

  He shrugged out of his vest, but he couldn't shrug away the loneliness that settled on his shoulders. Problem was that he couldn't see himself with anyone but Kate. And that was a big problem, because she wanted more than he could give her. He'd made a lousy husband to Louisa and they'd made each other miserable.

  Rob stepped out of the waders and shoved all his gear in the back of the HUMMER. He loved Kate. The kind of love that tied him up in knots. He'd married Louisa. Had had a baby with her, but
he'd never loved her like that.

  On the drive home, Rob took a hard look at his life. He was a guy who learned from his mistakes. But maybe he hadn't learned from his mistakes so much as he'd just avoided living his life. Then he'd met Kate, with her beautiful face and smart mouth, and she'd made him want more.

  Kate wanted more too. She wanted to grow old with someone, but was that what Rob wanted? It wasn't a hard question to answer. He wanted Kate. He wanted to take her hand without thought, just because it was there to take. He wanted to press his mouth to her ear and say something that would make her laugh. He wanted to slide his hand down Kate's back to the curve of her behind. A familiar touch between two people who knew each other intimately.

  He wanted to watch her try to outfish him, all the while knowing she was wearing a lace thong. He wanted her to be his friend and lover, and he wanted it for the rest of his life.

  He took a left and headed for the M &S, but Kate wasn't baking bread for the next day. One of the Aberdeen twins told him that she'd mentioned something about the Mountain Momma Crafters.

  He wouldn't be surprised if she was planning to force-feed them jalapeno jelly. He drove to the grange, and his heart pounded as he moved up the steps. Even before he opened the door, he could hear the voices of dozens of women. He paused with his hand on the door, manned up, and slipped into the grange. His gaze landed on Mrs. Fernwood, who stood between two long tables. She had a piece of paper in her hand.

  "Fold the left side of your triangle in half," she said.

  The door closed with a loud bang, and heads swivelled to look at him. He only had interest in the redhead at the end of the furthest table. She looked up, her gaze wary as he moved toward her.

  "Hello, Rob," Regina called out. "Have you come to make an origami cicada?"

  He'd rather get puck shot than make a damn origami cicada. With dozens of pairs of eyes staring holes in him, he walked across the grange until he stood before Kate. "I need to talk to you."

  "Now?"

  "Yes." When she only scowled at him, he added, "Don't make me throw you over my shoulder."