by Liz Isaacson
“So,” Walker said, his fingers sliding down her forearm to capture hers. “I guess it’s just you and me tonight.”
Tess shivered again, this time for a completely different reason than before. She gazed up into Walker’s face, relieved when she saw a blur of emotion in his eyes too. She felt so tangled up, she was sure she’d never unravel the mixture of feelings inside.
“I guess so,” she managed to say. “But I do not want to eat a corndog from a food truck.”
Walker tipped his head back and laughed, easing some of the tension in Tess’s muscles. “They’re gourmet corndogs,” he said. “But all right. What about heading over to the chuck wagon dinner? I bought tickets for Michael and me, and he’s obviously not coming….”
A tremor of terror tripped through Tess. Would people start gossiping about them if they went to the fundraising dinner together? What would her chocolate club think?
Why did she care?
They’d worked the booth together all day, and she hadn’t worried about that. Everyone in town already knew they were friends. No one would probably think twice about them going to the chuck wagon dinner together. It wasn’t exactly romantic, and they wouldn’t exactly have any privacy.
“Sure,” Tess said. “Do you think they’ll give me two pieces of that grilled corn on the cob? I love that stuff.”
He released her hand and reached for the top of the awning. “I’ll let you have mine,” he said, and a glow she hadn’t felt in years warmed Tess from the inside out.
As they took down the awning and Walker headed back to his truck with the rented cotton candy machine, Tess fretted. First, about going out with Walker. Though it was what she wanted, she wasn’t sure it was smart. She normally studied things out, prayed about them, considered all angles, before doing something.
She hadn’t done that here. He’d asked; she’d said yes. Not only that, but she’d practically told him she’d been desperate for him to ask her out for a while now. She shook her head. She hadn’t said too much, though holding the man’s hand had definitely conveyed something.
Second, her thoughts kept flying back to Brandon, the husband she’d lost to a terrible accident only five years ago. Graham had only been two, and Tess had tried to move on with her life in Salt Lake City. She’d found it impossible though, surrounded by all the same friends, her family, all the employees at the scrap metal salvage.
So she’d sold it. Moved to a remote town with more livestock than people. Cut hair a couple days a week just to avoid boredom. Hosted monthly chocolate parties at her house. Raised Graham by herself. Endured her cancer treatments with the help of a few close friends.
“There you are.”
Tess glanced up from the bench where she’d sat to find those friends standing in front of her. “Paige.” She grinned and rose to embrace the brunette. “Alison, hey. How did the fish pond go?”
Alison waved her hand. “Just fine. The pastor was a big hit.” A honey-haired blonde, Alison was the preacher’s wife, at least a decade older than Tess. She found that after her husband’s death, she no longer fit in the twenty-something crowd. She related better to older women, and Tess was the youngest of the group at thirty-four.
“How’d the cotton candy do this year?” Shirley asked. She owned a pie shop in town that shared space with the bakery, which her son operated.
“Great,” Tess said. “Walker said we made more this year than any other year.” She glanced over her shoulder to see where he’d gone. She couldn’t see him.
“What are you doing now?” Paige asked.
Tess shrugged. “Graham is off getting dinner with Troy and Ian, so Walker and I are going to go to the chuck wagon dinner.” She felt scandalous and she couldn’t quite meet any of her friends’ eyes. “What about you guys?”
“Food truck rally,” Alison said. “Oh, there’s Bob. I better go.” She patted Tess’s arm the way she usually did. “Good to see you! Chocolate club on Wednesday night?”
“I have this new triple-chocolate cookie recipe,” Paige singsonged, and Shirley said, “I’m bringing my chocolate crème Oreo pie.”
“Wednesday,” Tess confirmed as her friends bustled away, leaving her alone on the bench once more. The park around her buzzed with activity, but she felt isolated, abandoned.
At least until Walker returned a few minutes later. “Everything’s loaded up. Dinner doesn’t start for another hour.” He collapsed onto the bench next to her, and every cell in her body wanted to take his hand in hers and steal his quiet strength. “You wanna walk for a while? Then maybe we can stop by your place to clean up before the chuck wagon thing.”
“Can we go down by the stream?” Tess asked.
Walker slipped his hand in hers and stood up, pulling her after him. “We can go wherever you want, beautiful.” He grinned and squeezed her fingers. “You lead the way.”
And for the first time since her husband had died, for the first time since she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer, for the first time since she’d started losing her hair, Tess felt beautiful. All because the gorgeous cowboy smiling down on her said so.
Chapter Three
Walker wasn’t entirely sure why his heart galloped the way it did, or why he felt like the trees had suddenly grown eyes. All he knew was that Tess had said yes. That Tess had been thinking about him too. That Tess wanted to go out with him.
He hadn’t felt wanted in a long time. Necessary, sure. Michael needed him at home. Landon needed him on the horse ranch. But needed and wanted were two very different things, as Walker was suddenly keenly aware of.
“You sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked as they sauntered along the banks of the stream, leaving the crowds back by the parking lot, the stage, and the playground.
“I’m tired,” Tess confessed.
“When’s the last time you went to the doctor?” Walker tried to make his voice sound soothing, non-judgmental. They’d talked about her health before; this wasn’t anything new.
“June,” she said. “My scans were all clear.”
“Ah, yes. I remember,” he said. “You made about a hundred tacos to celebrate.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “I like tacos.”
“So do I,” he said. “But no one needs a hundred.”
“They all got eaten.” She looked at him, and he got lost in her blue-gray eyes for a moment. “This town is really good at celebrating with each other.”
“It helped that you set up that big table in your driveway.”
“How many did you eat?”
Walker grinned at her. “Probably four.”
She laughed, the pretty little sound of it infecting Walker’s bloodstream. As if the summer evening wasn’t already hot enough, now Walker found himself roasting from the inside out.
“I don’t suppose they’ll have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the chuck wagon,” she said.
He stepped with her, the ultra slow pace almost hard to maintain. “Peanut butter and jelly? I wouldn’t think so. Why?”
“That’s what I want for my final meal,” she said.
Walker’s heart stuttered. “Tess.” He stopped and twisted toward her. “Your final meal?”
“I just—” She glanced over his shoulder and then locked her eyes on his.
“You’re not dying,” he said.
“We’re all dying, Walker.”
He shook his head, not quite sure what to say. “But tonight’s not your final meal.”
“Probably not.” A ghost of a smile wafted across her face. He had the strongest urge to pull her into his chest and hold her tight. So he did. And oh, holding her felt magical, like she fit against him and should always be there. How he hadn’t known this before tonight was a mystery to him.
“Do you need to go back to the doctor?” he whispered.
She clung to him, a slight tremor traveling through her shoulders. “No, I’m fine. I just spent all day in the sun today. I’m just tired.”
�
�We don’t have to go to dinner,” he said. “I’m sure that woodfire pizza truck will be here tonight. I can grab us something and we can take it back to your house.”
The thought of spending a more private evening with Tess sent Walker’s heart right back to galloping. With her cheek pressed against his chest, he was sure she’d feel it. Sure she’d know of his erratic feelings.
He’d spent five extra minutes loading the cotton candy machine, coaching himself to not act like a hormonal teenager. But he’d been out of the dating game for so long, he’d forgotten all the rules. Things had changed so much in the past twenty years, he didn’t even think the same rules existed.
He’d even gone so far as to consider calling Megan. Megan! The woman who’d basically gotten him into this mess. Without her, he wouldn’t have even been thinking about asking someone out.
“Tess?” he asked when she didn’t answer. “Pizza or chuck wagon?”
“I don’t want you to miss the dinner,” she said.
He pulled back and looked into her face. “They already got my money. It doesn’t matter if I go or not.” He could read the exhaustion on her face, and if he were being honest, the same tiredness existed in his very soul. So he said, “Let me find the boys and give them my phone. Then we’ll go. I can run back over to get the pizza when the trucks show up.”
She nodded without argument—a testament to her fatigue—and he released her. They returned to the bench she’d been sitting on earlier, and he left her there to go find Michael and Graham.
“Boys,” he said when he found them. “Tess isn’t feeling very well. I’m going to take her home.” He extended his phone to his son. “I want you guys to take this. Text me or call me if you need anything.”
Michael took the phone almost reverently. “Dad?”
“She’s just tired.” He tousled the boy’s hair. “You have the money for corndogs and fries. Now you have a way to communicate with me. When the concert ends, come on back to Graham’s.” He glanced at Tess’s son, finding her same eyes, the same smattering of freckles across the child’s nose. “You guys can stay together, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Graham said, and Walker smiled at him. “Michael?”
“Yeah, sure, Dad.”
“We’ll stay with them too, Mister Thompson,” Troy said. “My dad will be here in a few minutes.”
Walker nodded. “He can text me too.” He wished the man was there now, so Walker could make sure it was all right to leave the boys for the evening. He focused on Michael. “You’ll be okay?”
Michael’s chest swelled. “Dad, I’m not a baby.”
He thunked Michael on the shoulder. “I know you’re not. Stay together. Get something to eat. Let me know when you’re on your way back to Graham’s. It’ll be dark, and I’ll come out and meet you.”
“All right,” Michael drawled in that western twang he’d learned on the cattle ranch in Evanston.
That settled, Walker wove through the crowds at Oxbow, separate rivers of unease splashing through him. He spotted Landon and changed course mid-step. “Hey,” he said. The twins were sleeping in their double-wide stroller while Megan relaxed on the bench beside them. He glanced at Megan, who trained her eyes on him. He swore she could see right into his mind, and he looked away.
“I’m leavin’ Michael and Graham here.” He pointed back toward where they were tossing a football with the Munk boys. “Can you maybe keep an eye on them tonight? I gave Michael my phone, but I wasn’t able to talk to an adult.”
“Where are you goin’?” Landon asked.
“Tess isn’t feeling well,” he said. “I’m gonna make sure she gets home all right.”
Megan rose. “Tess Wagner?”
Walker worked hard not to roll his eyes. “It’s nothing, Megan.”
“Which means it’s something.” She clapped her hands together in delight. “Did you ask her out?”
Walker trained his gaze on Megan, a blip of satisfaction stealing through him when she flinched the slightest bit. “As a matter of fact, I did. We were going to go to the chuck wagon dinner, but she’s not feeling up to it.”
She cocked her head. “But you for real asked her out?”
Walker sighed and looked back at Landon. “Can you keep an eye on them? We’ll have Tess’s phone.”
“I don’t know her number,” Landon said.
“I’ve got it,” Megan said, absolute glee on her face. “And oh, poor Brighton will be so heartbroken to hear you’re going out with someone else.”
“Brighton Kallas?” Walker asked. He wasn’t sure if he should be horrified or relieved he’d dodged that bullet.
“She thinks you’re soo handsome.” Megan giggled, her fingers flying over her phone.
Walker snatched it from her fingers. “I don’t want you texting every female in the county about this.”
Megan made a grab for her phone, but Walker kept it easily out of her reach. “I’m not texting every female in the county.”
“Megan,” Walker warned.
She smiled warmly at him. “Walker.” She brushed at her eyes, all playfulness gone. “I’m so happy for you.”
Landon scoffed. “It’s not like he’s engaged.”
Megan shoved him in the chest. “Getting out there again is really hard, Landon. You of all people should know that.”
“Yeah, well,” Landon muttered. “Can we not make a big deal out of it? I think Walker would appreciate that.”
Walker nodded. “I would, actually.”
“Can I have my phone back?” Megan folded her arms, that grin stuck to her face.
“Promise not to text any women about this?”
“What about Landon’s sister? Can I tell her? She’ll be thrilled.”
Disbelief snaked through Walker. “You’ve told someone I’ve never met about my pathetic love life?”
Landon chuckled. “If there’s someone more meddlesome than my wife, it’s my sister.”
Walker shook his head. “I can’t believe this.” He held out Megan’s phone.
“Oh, you like it.” She took the phone and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. “Good for you, Walker. Go have fun.”
“She’s probably going to fall asleep on the couch,” he muttered before turning away.
“But you’ll be with her!” Megan called after him.
When Walker returned with the pizza, Tess was indeed fast asleep on the couch. His own weariness allowed him to sink into the armchair next to her, turn the TV volume down another couple of notches so as not to disturb her, and eat a few slices.
He was just starting to doze himself with the thought of This is the most unromantic date I’ve ever been on when someone knocked on the door.
He shot out of the chair like he’d been launched by a cannon. A quick glance to Tess confirmed that she slept like the undead. He cracked the door just enough to see who stood on the other side.
A dark-haired woman he recognized from church. “Oh, hello, Paige.”
She scanned him from boots to cowboy hat, taking in as much of him as the slit in the doorway would allow. “Walker Thompson?” She tried to see past him. “What are you doing here?”
“Tess wasn’t feeling well. I just made sure she got home okay.” A hum of discomfort seethed beneath his skin. “My son wanted to go to the concert with Graham, so I’m just waiting here for them.”
Paige appraised him. “Weren’t you guys going to go to the chuck wagon dinner?”
He wondered how she knew that, but just said, “Yes, but we decided not to.”
She lifted a paper plate. “Oh, well, I brought Tess one of her favorites.”
Walker took the plate and stared at the sandwich. “PB&J?”
“Not just any PB&J,” Paige said with a smile. “That’s white chocolate peanut butter and fresh made apricot jam.”
“I’m sure she’ll love it.” Walker gave Paige his best smile. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”
Paige gave him a knowing look, thoug
h just what she knew, he wasn’t sure. “All right then.” She turned and went down the steps, leaving Walker to wonder why she’d knocked if she’d expected Tess to be at the chuck wagon dinner.
He didn’t have room in his brain to riddle it all out. He sighed and closed the door, nearly dropping the gourmet sandwich—if such a thing existed—when he came toe-to-toe with Tess. “Who was that?” she asked.
“Paige.” He extended the sandwich toward her. “Brought you dinner.”
A smile painted life back into Tess’s face and sent a shiver of wanting through Walker. “I also made it back with the pizza.”
“I saw that.” She took the sandwich into her kitchen and padded back into the living room. “Sorry I fell asleep.” She curled into the corner of the couch, but Walker didn’t know where to put himself. He wanted to cuddle up right next to her, but something about it didn’t feel quite right.
“It’s not a problem,” he said. “I may have started to doze myself.” He moved toward the armchair just as she patted the cushion next to her. He changed course and sat beside her, his position saying I’m definitely interested but I’m not going to make the first move.
Didn’t matter. Tess did by reaching out and twining her fingers through his. She shifted away from the armrest, replacing it with Walker’s shoulder. “You haven’t dated since Libby’s death, have you?” she asked.
“No, ma’am.”
She giggled. “I’m thirty-four, Walker. Don’t call me ma’am.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She swatted his arm and he added his laughter to hers. “Have you dated since Brandon died?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Why do you think that is?” he asked. “I mean, why don’t we—can’t we—move on?”
“I’ve moved on in other ways.”
So had Walker. He’d just never taken the time to think about them, sort through them. “I guess I have too,” he said. “But in some things, I still haven’t let go.”
“What things?”
He drew in a deep breath and let it leak slowly out, contemplating how to articulate his feelings. “I think the biggest one my mother worries about is the fact that I haven’t been back to visit Libby’s grave.”