by Tanya Hanson
Driving off without a goodbye had hurt. Hurt big time.
Women. His heart tugged a tad in disappointment.
As she walked out of his thoughts, Rachel stepped right in his way in front of the Butterbean Café. He stumbled, but not because he lost his footing. It was seeing her arm hooked into that of a sturdy cowboy. He breathed deep to control his pounding heart.
“Excuse me, man,” said the guy as he drew Rachel out of the line of fire. “Sorry ’bout that.”
Well, it had been Brayton’s fault, too distracted to watch where he walked, but Rachel’s cinnamon scent on the air made it worth it. Blood ran quick in his veins. But what was she doing, all cozy with this guy when she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for romance?
“Brayton!” She sounded as shocked as he felt. “I…thought you were back in River Ridge?”
He wiggled the shopping bag as he steadied his voice, tried not to think of the weekend at Hearts Crossing Ranch with both its highs and its lows.
“Hmmm. Last night Addie and I had a long talk on the way back to the Red Hill. I’ve been homeschooling her, but we both decided it would be good for her to go to middle school. So we came in first thing to sign her up.” To lighten the awkwardness, to smooth the line between Rachel’s eyebrows, he opened the bag and held up his purchase. “Finding a ‘Mustang’ sweatshirt was my order for the day.”
Rachel’s feet stirred restlessly, and she didn’t smile. “Sign her up? But Brayton, this can’t possibly be her district. Besides, the drive from River Ridge is horrible in wintertime. There’s certainly no bus route that far out.”
It was time now, come what may. “I, um, we’ll be moving here.”
“Leaving the Red Hill?” The furrow deepened. He thought he understood her chagrin. Why would a born cowboy rediscovering his country roots move back into a town, no matter how small, and leave behind the ranch he’d just acquired?
He nodded. “It’s better for Addie. She needs people. I’m keeping the Red Hill. I’ve got a great foreman to run things. And, of course, we’ll get back there often. But it’s pretty remote. I’m readying a condo at Woodside Meadows.”
Rachel’s beautiful mouth opened, displaying perfect white teeth. “What? And you didn’t think to mention it when we were at the chapel there yesterday? When I told you I had my eye on moving there myself?”
“Time didn’t seem right.”
“Hmmm.” Confusion drew a roadmap on her forehead again. “Well, I’m happy for you. Just surprised, I guess. So we might become neighbors. Good for us.”
But she didn’t much sound like she meant it. Then she found her manners, gave one of her dazzler smiles to the cowpoke next to her. “My heavens, guys. Forgive me, Jace, for ignoring you. Brayton. Please meet Jace Bennett. Jace, Brayton Metcalf. His daughter is taking riding lessons at Hearts Crossing.”
Jace extended a hearty right hand, dislodging Rachel’s arm for a split second. Then it snaked its way across his forearm again, and Brayton bit back a distinct flash of jealousy, barely returning the shake. He knew the name. And of course, the face.
“Jace Bennett? Champion bull rider.”
Rachel seemed to relax and Brayton’s mood improved when she wiggled away from Bennett’s arm. “Brayton rode saddle broncs in his college days.”
He almost didn’t hear her. Anybody following the sport would recall the bruising champ named Dancer that had dashed Jace’s career into the dust. “I watched you win the buckle in Las Vegas once upon a time.”
“Yeah. Once upon a time, now.” Jace peered down at his feet for a second before showing Brayton a weak grin. “That’s a fact. Hey, you wanna join us for a cup of coffee and catch up?” Jace looked at Rachel as if for permission. Brayton’s spirit lightened. Obviously, this wasn’t a date.
“Sure.” Her cheeks pinked, and Brayton remembered yesterday. Better not.
Not yet.
“Thanks, but I’ve got some other things to see to. Enjoyed meeting you, Jace. Bye now, Rachel.” He touched his brim and moved out of their way.
“See ya around then,” Jace yelled as he and Rachel headed down the street.
Refusing the invitation didn’t do Brayton any good. He longed for Rachel’s scent, her nearness, and coffee sounded great. But when she didn’t say a word or repeat Jace’s invitation, Brayton took it as a snub. A jolt of caffeine was just what he needed to halt the headache starting to throb behind his eyebrows.
He headed inside the Butterbean Café, the next best place for a good cup of coffee. But he hesitated soon as he breeched the entry way. He’d met Kelley yesterday at Hearts Crossing and the last person he needed to run in to was a Martin. He breathed in relief as a waitress definitely not Kelley greeted him and seated him in a cowhide-upholstered booth. As he relaxed against it, he idly wondered if Addie would go for the look in their new kitchen.
“Welcome to the Butterbean, cowboy.” The waitress’s nametag read Carol, and her smile showed interest.
“How do you do?” he returned politely as she handed him a menu.
“You’re a tad early for lunch, but things are heating up just fine. In addition to the menu, you got a choice of Sloppy Joe’s, regular style, or vegetarian Sloppy Josephines.”
He wasn’t quite that hungry. After he’d checked in, breakfast at the inn had been massive. Local steak, eggs picked this morning, steel cut oatmeal and blueberry compote. “Not a meal, but something that’s good with a hot cup of coffee. What do you recommend?”
Carol stood, hands on hips, and pretended to think hard. “Banana bread with cream cheese,” she said with a wink. “Or better yet, biscuits with homemade raspberry butter. They’re like swallowing clouds, let me tell you.”
He swallowed hard, forcing happy memories of his Gram Adelaide’s banana bread for a second before Rachel started up a stew of mixed emotions.
“Banana bread,” he said, wondering if his forehead looked as tight as his gut felt. For a while, he ripped open a packet of artificial sweetener while waiting for his order, and thought things through. Reminded himself of the vicar’s words yesterday.
God knows what is going to happen tomorrow, next week. Next month, next year. And no matter the outcome, He will care for us.
Words that likely would have held no significance at all a week ago. They were so important now. God did work in mysterious ways.
In front of him, Carol set down a steaming cup of fresh coffee and a slice of banana bread on a white saucer painted with horseshoes. She smiled, lips full and appealing, definitely a striking woman, but with Rachel inside his head, no other female had anything to inspire him. Still, he returned a grin as he poured the sweetener into his coffee although he normally disliked the stuff. Today, though, he didn’t want to waste it. Little things like that added up quick for a small business owner. And Rachel’s sister owned this one.
“You’re new around here.” She stated, not asked.
“Yeah. I’m Brayton.” He tossed a nod. “I got my daughter enrolled in school this morning. Staying at the B and B while I think things through.”
“Carol. Nice town, nice folks around here.” She set down the check.
“True enough.”
“Hope you settle in fine.”
Brayton didn’t just hope so. He started to believe it. No matter the outcome, He will care for us. “Thanks.”
Unwilling to hole up at the inn, he settled against his roost in the quiet café. With Addie busy at school and his foreman taking charge at the Red Hill, Brayton realized the time had come to get the memorial art gallery up and running. Warmed by coffee, he made a phone call he’d been ignoring. Now he had the strength to bear it, to move on.
Sandy Lind, head of the art history department at Pac Arts, answered her own phone, and he quickly explained his plan for an art gallery in his late wife’s memory.
“I can’t believe the timing, Mr. Metcalf, and I remember Marianne well. Her thesis on subjugated female artists in the Renaissance set a gold standard. G
od rest her soul.” Her voice quieted for a second then gushed with enthusiasm. “Just this past summer we moved the student gallery to our new campus center. The old gallery is empty, but we might be on to something. It’s sorely in need of a revamp, though….”
After some quick mental calculations, he spoke a sum, and could almost touch Ms. Lind’s excitement over the miles.
“Mr. Metcalf, of course I need to present this…opportunity to the administration, but this very generous gift wouldn’t go unrewarded. Let me put the proper parties in touch with you.”
“The only thing…” Brayton hesitated. “I’m wondering if the dedication show might feature a primitive Western artist…whose works I admire.”
“I’ll put it to committee, of course,” Ms. Lind assured him. “Send us more information, some sample art, and we’ll try our best to accommodate you.”
Brayton’s heart so grew with elation and confidence that he held back running to the Coffee Corral to ask Rachel on a ride. But as he pocketed his smartphone, Kelley Martin Easterday approached from the kitchen, trim in her white chef’s coat. Her braids and freckles had him smiling.
“Howdy, Brayton. What’s up? You seem to be liking my banana bread?” She set her hand on her hips in a way that reminded him of her mother, despite Kelley’s tall, reed-thin form.
“I’ve loved everything I’ve tasted that comes from the folks of Hearts Crossing.” He grinned, remembered making Elaine’s mac and cheese while standing close to Rachel. His heart took a tumble. “You and your mother are very talented in the kitchen.” He motioned across the booth for her to take the bench across from him. “Can you sit for a minute?”
“Sure. Busy day for you?”
“Yeah.” He straightened his shoulders, Sandra Lind’s enthusiastic conversation fresh in his mind.
“Then the Butterbean is the best place to take a load off.” Kelley beamed bright as her yellow curtains.
He couldn’t stop himself. During his weekend at Hearts Crossing, he’d had friendly conversation with most of Rachel’s family, including Kelley, so he had no qualms sharing Addie’s enrollment at the school, their impending move to Woodside Meadows, his eagerness for a trail ride, and unable to help it, his plans to display her grandmother’s art.
“I firmly believe the world needs to see her work.” He nodded, firm.
“I like the idea, Brayton. Honest, I do,” Kelley said beneath just a wrinkle of brow. “But Grim-Gram wasn’t much for publicity. It was Ma’s idea to enter her pictures at the fair, and Grim-Gram was always in a snit about it. Well, Rachel and Hooper are in charge of everything dealing with Hearts Crossing and its ‘brand.’ With Hoop in California right now, you should run it by Rachel.”
“I will,” he promised. Thinking of Rachel again had him gritting his teeth and smiling at the same time. But the smile won out. He’d make a proper date with her like a gentleman did.
11
Dinner tonight. A date. Or was it a date-date? And was she ready?
Rachel giggled like a schoolgirl. Brayton had had to call the ranch’s land line. She’d never even given him her smartphone number. She snorted now. Had Brayton seen Jace as some sort of competition? He’d blown off the coffee invitation all by himself.
Ack, men. What did the morning matter? The afternoon had turned golden when he called. Maybe another good dream was in store for her tonight.
Pink silk fluttered around her knees as she paced in front of the fireplace. Years had passed since she’d waited on a date. Her heart hammered. A date? Or just a meal? Hmmmm. A date-date around here meant the Cattlemen’s Club in Promise, and Brayton would easily be able to afford such a place. Her breath caught. Candles, fresh flowers, and fine wine. Maybe dancing cheek to cheek. She shuttered the last thought quick.
Or the Butterbean? Options around here were fairly limited. She’d know for sure it wasn’t a date if he took her there. Too casual, too Kelley. All he’d said was dinner, though, and he’d pick her up at seven. Therefore, she’d had six hours to agonize about what to wear. Dinner, not a trail ride. The dress from Bragg and Tiffany’s wedding would have to do. Casual and elegant both.
She’d always been on time. Make that an early bird. Just part of her nature, and the waiting around was killing her. With Matty already asleep and her siblings with their own homes, the big house was frighteningly silent. The flames in the fireplace seemed to shout.
“What are you so nervous about?”
Rachel almost fell into the fire. “Gosh, Ma, you scared me!”
“Well, why is Brayton scaring you?”
“I’m not scared. Just a little nervous.” She smoothed her draping skirt with freshly-manicured nails. Oh, she had gone all out. “I haven’t been on a date for a long time.”
“Well, I think it’s a good idea, and about time. And Brayton’s a good man.”
That he was, but that didn’t stall Rachel’s pounding heart as twin headlight beams snaked up the long driveway. She swallowed hard. Well, whatever the future was, it just might be starting now.
Please God. No matter the outcome, You promised to care.
“Never you mind.” Ma’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ll just tell him you have a nine-thirty curfew. I got your back.”
“Ma, I’m not in junior high.” Rachel punched her mother’s arm lovingly then grabbed her evening bag and shawl. “And I bet you were just as nervous waiting on your first date with Doyle.”
“Pshaw. I asked him out. I was too old to wait around for him to do it.” The doorbell chimed. “Well, here’s your date. You want to get the door or shall I?”
Rachel tried the eye-roll Addie Metcalf did so well, and so often. “Once again, Mother, I’m not in junior high.”
As quick as she could in the mile-high stilettos she rarely wore, Rachel hustled to the front door with both excitement and terror. If she took any longer, she’d lose her courage. Twenty-four hours ago the idea of a date with Brayton, a date with anyone, would have been the last thing on her mind.
Twilight had misted into soft evening shadows that haloed around Brayton. He stood in the glow of the porch light, taking her breath away. Good jeans, dark sport jacket. Pearl gray shirt and silk tie, not the bolo style most men wore. There must be a breeze going on because his hair was slightly mussed. Or else he’d run his fingers through it.
From the way he didn’t speak, she figured he was admiring her, too.
“Hi.” She cleared her throat. The ”hi” had sounded like a frog. “I...this is such a nice surprise. Thanks. I was sorry we didn’t get to say goodbye last night. Matty had worn himself out, bumped his noggin, had a bloody nose. Carried on something awful.”
“He all right?” Brayton held out a single white rose.
“Yeah. Just being a kid.” The rose was as perfect as an alabaster sculpture. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And I’m glad to hear it. About Matty. And glad you weren’t avoiding me.” His eyelashes flitted together a few quick times to let her know he wasn’t serious. Or at least didn’t want her to know. “Let me go say hey to your mom.”
“Better not.” Rachel chuckled, tucked the rose in the handle of her bag, and took his arm. “We’ll get stuck here for hours. Besides, she said something about me having a nine-thirty curfew.”
“Then we better make tracks.”
Laughing hard together, she leaned against his solid arm, both liking the feel of his warmth and to steady her shaky knees. Oh, she hadn’t been on a date for so long. And from the rose, from the looks of him, it appeared to be a date, not a mere meal.
He led her to a big stretch cab truck wearing a healthy coat of Colorado dust, held the door.
“I see you listened to your daughter and got a proper set of wheels.” Rachel joked as she fastened her seatbelt.
After settling himself, he started off down the long driveway. “Yeah. I got the truck as soon as we moved to Colorado. But the sedan is a smoother driving machine. I know Addie’s back is well, but
I guess I’ll never stop being paranoid about her. I always want the best for her. And well, her alienation from me really seems to be healing here. I’ll do all I can to get it to continue. Therefore, in this case,” he laughed out loud, “the switcheroo was a good decision.”
“I hope the switch to Mountain Cove Middle School was a good decision, too.”
Brayton nodded. “She had a great first day. Some of the kids she met at Bible study are in her classes. So all around, a good deal.”
For a flash, Rachel wondered if he’d told Addie about tonight. Did she dare ask? They were silent just for a minute. Beneath the big tires, gravel tugged and crackled. All sounds of life that gave Rachel comfort. As did being at his side. Her nerves had already evaporated.
“Where is Addie tonight?” Maybe she’d learn anyway.
Brayton shrugged. “Homework and the requisite texting are done. The landlady is looking in on her. Therefore, I’m free.”
“What made you ask me out, tonight, I mean?” She smiled at how wiggy she’d been all afternoon.
“What made you accept?”
How honest should she be? As honest as her nature? She’d take the chance. “I had a dream about you last night. I so appreciated your comfort yesterday. I regretted not saying good-bye. And simply put...” She looked over at him. For a flash, he took his gaze from the roadway and it landed on her, warmly yet she shivered. In a good way. “I’m not Addie’s regular riding teacher, so I worried I might not see you again. Silly, huh.”
“Not silly at all. But now I’m moving here.”
“I know.” She tingled at the possibilities. “So why tonight?”
Brayton hesitated, but she didn’t have a flicker of worry or doubt. She was learning to trust again. In the moment before he spoke, she watched his hands on the wheel, guiding the big truck town the road, if she had her druthers, toward the road to Woodside Meadows.