Chemistry Lessons

by Rebecca H Jamison

  Rosie rifled through her purse, pulling out a pack of tissues and handing it to the man. “Can I drive you to the hospital?”

  The man touched the tissue to his wound, flinching. “What did you say about the guy in the kayak?” The tone of his voice had softened. “I saw a couple of guys in kayaks coming into the dock.”

  She couldn’t leave without helping this man, but she still wanted to find Destry. “How far away is the dock?”

  “Not far.” The man picked up his bike and slung his leg over it.

  She studied the gash in his forehead and wondered if he might also have a concussion. He didn’t look fit to be riding a bike, but she needed to get going if she was going to catch Destry. “Would you mind if I borrow your bike? Then you can rest a while, and when I get back, I’ll take you to the doctor.”

  The man rolled his eyes, obviously not liking her suggestion.

  She opened her purse. “I’ll leave you my keys as collateral.”

  He tipped his head to the side as if considering. “What planet are you from?”

  “You can use my bike,” the boy offered.

  Rosie eyed the boy’s bike, knowing there wasn’t much time to waiver. It was a kid-size bike, but it would still get her there faster than running. She handed the boy her keys. “Tell your grandma I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m just going down to the dock.”

  This wasn’t like anything she had ever done before, and yet it felt right to go after her heart for once in her life, even if Destry didn’t accept her. She crammed her shoes into the top of her purse, which she hooked over her shoulder. Then she got on the bike, dress and all, and started pedaling—a strange challenge. She had never ridden a bike in a dress before, and she got the fabric caught in the chain before she had gone around the bend. She stopped, yanked the fabric loose, and tried to reposition her skirt around her legs.

  The bike was way too short, though, and this time, when she resumed pedaling, the fabric rode up, showing parts of her legs that hadn’t seen the sun since her teenage days at the swimming hole. Luckily, there didn’t appear to be anyone else around, so she rode with her skirt billowing until she spied an elderly couple walking toward her on the trail. Not wanting to stop, she stood up while she pedaled to force her skirt back down. She went on pedaling and pedaling. The movement pinched a spot in her lower back, and just when she thought she couldn’t take any more pain, the path opened into a parking lot. Beside it, she saw an empty dock.

  He had already left.

  All that effort for nothing.

  She got off the bike and stopped to catch her breath, telling herself she could still surprise him before the workday ended.

  At the other end of the parking lot, a black pickup pulled out of its space. Peeking up from its bed were the ends of two kayaks, a red flag taped onto the longest one. Without stopping to think, Rosie raced toward it, calling Destry’s name, as the truck headed away from her.

  She reached the tailgate with ease and managed to pull the flag off the end of the kayak, but the truck was accelerating. She pedaled harder, trying to keep up. “Destry!” she yelled as loud as she could. It took all her breath to get the word out.

  She debated whether to grab onto the tailgate, but then she saw him looking at her through the side-view mirror. The truck stopped, and he rolled down the window, poking his head out. “Rosie?”

  She stopped at the back of his truck, waving the red flag and breathing too hard to speak. She ran a hand through her wind-swept hair and smoothed down the hem of her dress. Unfortunately, that was the hand she used to grab the biker’s wrist and a little mud had stuck to it.

  He opened the driver’s side door and stepped down to the pavement, staring at her. He was still wearing his wetsuit, but he had zipped it open to his bare chest. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Then he burst out laughing. “In a dress? And why aren’t you wearing a helmet?”

  Rosie stared at the firm muscles of his chest and tried to catch her breath. She was about to speak when she noticed his truck rolling backward, and she scrambled to get herself and the bike out of the way.

  With his door still open, he pushed against the truck to stop it and then leaned inside. Coming out of the truck again, he closed the door. “Forgot to put it in park.”

  He wasn’t reacting the way she had expected—he didn’t seem surprised or excited, just amused. Was she a joke to him? She stuffed the flag into his hand. “You’re wondering why I’m here.” She was still holding onto the bike, which wasn’t at all how she planned this.

  “I am,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “I thought I knew what I wanted from my life.” She swallowed and studied Destry’s face. He wore the same expression she had observed during their meetings with Principal Moore—guarded. “Then you came along, and I realized there was something better—someone better. I know I’ve waited too long to say this, and maybe I’m too late, but I love the way I feel when I’m with you, Destry.” She paused. Her words weren’t coming out at all the way they had sounded in her mind. No wonder Destry still stood there with his hand on the door, looking shocked. She was rambling. “I love you, and I can’t let you move away. Remember what you said in the cemetery about that coming home feeling? About there still being time? I’m wondering if maybe it still might be true.”

  Chapter 34

  Rosie stood before him, her cheeks pink with exertion and her hair whipping around in the wind. He gripped the side of his door and blinked, wondering if this was really happening. She looked so beautiful in her cream-colored dress, and she was saying she loved him.

  This was the most she had ever shared her feelings with him. Although she said exactly what he had longed to hear, he doubted she was thinking straight, and he couldn’t help wondering if she had a case of cold feet before her wedding with Tanner. This was a big change from what she said in the cemetery. It was also unlike her to go on vacation at the last minute. She was the type who planned things out weeks in advance—he’d seen that clearly while they worked together.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked, resisting the urge to take her in his arms. “You were pretty set on Tanner. He was your perfect rancher.” Destry didn’t want to be her last fling before she and Tanner made up.

  Without answering, she smiled and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Everything about her fit him—the curve of her waist against his hands, the comfort of her arms circling around him, the plumpness of her lips against his. Despite all his efforts to get over her, nothing at all had changed in the last two months. He could have stayed there for hours, kissing her in the parking lot beside his rented truck. He probably would have too if she hadn’t stopped.

  “I know I’ve waited too long to say this.” She spoke with hesitation, as if she still believed he might not want her anymore. “But when you said you were leaving Lone Spur, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, Destry. I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you that.”

  He reached to kiss her again, but she placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. “You need time to think things through, so I’m going to give you space now. I’m going to spend the rest of the day learning about Ben Franklin and Constitution Hall, if I can concentrate.” She grinned and then held out the skirt of her dress, showing off stains from bicycle grease and mud. “And since I’m in the market for a new dress, I thought I’d fly to New York City tomorrow for a little shopping. While I’m there, I’ll visit my paintings one last time and maybe see a show.”

  This was more like her—she had everything planned out. She was as rational as ever. This was the Rosie he knew. This was the Rosie he loved.

  He pulled her hand away from his chest and drew her in for another kiss. This was the chemistry that had been missing with Mercedes—the kind of electric energy that seared Rosie’s image into his brain, overshadowing any other woman he had ever admired.

 
“I don’t need time to think things through,” he whispered. “I’m all yours.”

  Her face broke into a grin, the joyful expression he had longed to see when they visited in the hospital. “Would you be insulted if I said you make me feel like I’m a kid again?” she asked.

  He faked a frown. “Very much so.”

  “It’s a good thing,” she insisted, giving him another little kiss on his frowning lips. “I was one of those kids that had to grow up too fast. I lost the desire to play and have fun, but you’ve brought that part of me back to life.”

  His eyes shifted toward her mode of transportation. “Hence the bike?” She laughed and he hugged her, lifting her up to twirl her around in a circle. “You deserve to have fun.”

  She giggled the whole time, but after he placed her feet on the ground, she nodded toward Amir, who was watching them through the back window of the truck. “I wish I could stay longer, but I think you better get back to your work.”

  She was right. He had totally forgotten about Amir. His company really couldn’t afford to lose the Mumbai account.

  She gestured toward the bicycle leaning against the tailgate. “And I need to return a bicycle to a friend.”

  “I can’t wait to see you again,” he said, taking her in his arms for one last kiss. He still couldn’t believe she had come all the way across the country to tell him she loved him.

  After he watched Rosie hop on the kid-size bike and ride off down the trail, he remembered Mercedes. He knew she wasn’t the woman for him, but she didn’t deserve to have him kissing Rosie behind her back. He needed to be honest and break things off as soon as possible. What could he say to her that wouldn’t turn the rest of their trip into a nightmare?

  He got back into the truck to face Amir’s grin. That’s when he recalled hearing that public kissing was prohibited in India. “Sorry for the interruption,” he told Amir, who was about his age but was married with four children.

  “Quite alright,” Amir responded in a proper English accent. “But I thought you said your girlfriend was a brunette.”

  “She is,” Destry said, shaking his head.

  Amir raised his eyebrows, understanding dawning in his eyes. “So that wasn’t—”

  Destry felt the heat rise to his face. “Nope.” He probably didn’t seem very trustworthy right now. “I’ve got a mess on my hands.”

  Amir shook his head. “There’s something to be said for the old Indian way of arranged marriages.”

  They both laughed as they drove out of Bartram Gardens. Destry doubted his parents would have ever paired him with a cowgirl from Lone Spur. They would have chosen someone more on the glamorous side, someone like Mercedes. She had already won them over. If only his parents could set her up with a great guy out here. There were only so many good men to choose from in Lone Spur.

  * * *

  Driving to his favorite restaurant in the suburbs, Destry told Mercedes how he had worked out a deal with Amir. He told himself that he didn’t have to mention the part about Rosie until they arrived at the restaurant.

  That time came sooner than he wanted. Before he knew it, he was sitting across from her at the corner booth of an old style cafe with dark wood walls. Soft jazz music played in the background as they stared at their menus.

  Mercedes looked up at him. “What else happened at work today? You’re so quiet.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” He still hadn’t figured out how to say this, and his heart raced at what the outcome would be. “I hope you know how much I appreciate you . . . and admire you.”

  She held her hand out to stop him. “I talked to Betty today,” she said, her voice trembling. “She’s watching my cat while I’m gone.”

  “Oh?” He wasn’t sure where she was heading with this.

  “She asked if I’d seen Rosie yet, since she’s here on vacation . . . in Philadelphia.” She bit her lip and looked away, trying to control her emotions. “I told her she must be mistaken, but now I can see that maybe I’m the one who’s mistaken.”

  Destry cleared his throat. He hated to see Mercedes hurting like this, especially after she had been so excited to come on this trip. “I’m so sorry, Mercedes.”

  She fiddled with the folded napkin on the table in front of her. “I’ve been thinking about what your mother said last night, about you being in love.” She paused. “She said it was the first time you’d ever felt that way about someone.”

  She was right, but he didn’t want to make her feel worse by admitting it.

  She kept her eyes on his. “I don’t want to get in your way now that Rosie’s available.”

  She was taking this much better than he had imagined. He squeezed her hand. “I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last few weeks without you. Thank you for being my friend.”

  She looked away before returning her gaze to his. “You’ve been great therapy for me too, Destry.”

  He recalled his earlier conversation with Amir about arranged marriages, and, for a second, he wished that he could find someone who could love Mercedes the way she deserved. But even if he couldn’t arrange a new relationship for her, he could arrange for other improvements. One of the reasons she came here was to apply for jobs, and so far, he had done nothing to help her get one. “If you’re still interested in getting a job out here, I know plenty of people who would love to have you on their staff. All I need to do is make a few calls.”

  Her face brightened. “Really?”

  He released his hold on her hand and reached for his menu again. “Sure. People are always looking for organized and efficient workers . . . if you really want to live here.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asked, her words picking up speed. “I love it here.”

  Destry eyed her, seeing for the first time that perhaps she wasn’t as attached to him as she was to the thought of something new, something different from what she had experienced in Lone Spur. She would have better chances for a social life here too. “I can introduce you to some of my friends over the weekend,” he said.

  She tipped her head to the side. “I’d like that, but what about Rosie? When are you going to be with her?”

  “She’s catching a plane in the morning. She only came for a day.”

  Mercedes shook her head and clicked her tongue. “I never know what to expect from that chica.”

  “Neither do I,” Destry said, hiding his smile behind his menu. Loving Rosie was full of twists and turns, risks and challenges. He couldn’t wait to continue the adventure.

  Chapter 35

  It felt so good to be back where she belonged—with this man whose smooth, uncalloused hands caressed the back of her neck. He wasn’t the cowboy she had imagined falling in love with. Yet he was the one who had the patience to deal with teenagers, grumpy old men, and spitting llamas. He was the one who had her laughing through the flood. He was the one who could stand up against the Moores. And now, in his strong arms, she felt both comfort and power.

  “You have a way of making the oddest places seem romantic,” she said, taking him by the hand. “Cemeteries, parking lots, and nursing homes.”

  He winked. “Tomorrow we’ll try my classroom.”

  “As fun as that would be, we’d better not,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.

  They found Grandpa in the recreation room of the nursing home. He sat at a table crowded with six women in wheelchairs, all watching him like gamblers waiting for their wins. A John Wayne movie played on the TV while Grandpa played a game of chess with one of the residents.

  As soon as Grandpa saw Rosie, he stood from his wheelchair, extending his good arm in her direction. “Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to my granddaughter and her future husband.”

  Positive Destry would understand, Rosie didn’t feel embarrassed. “Just play along,” she muttered. “He’s been calling you my future husband ever since I hurt my back and you carried me into the house.”

  While one of the nursing home wor
kers rushed over to remind Grandpa to stay in his wheelchair, Destry laughed and brought a couple more chairs to his table. “I expect a handsome dowry,” he said in a loud voice.

  He sat down next to Rosie, resting his arm across the back of her chair. That was when she noticed he wore a pair of flip-flops with his jeans and T-shirt. At one time, it would have annoyed her to see him wearing them on a chilly day. Now, she just smiled.

  “You want a dowry, huh?” Grandpa scratched under the strap of his sling. “I can give you a thirty-year-old tractor and a couple of ornery llamas, but those won’t do you much good, seeing as how you’re moving.”

  “Well, I’ve changed my mind about that.” He winked at Rosie. “Back when I decided to move, I thought I was going to have to live next door to Mr. and Mrs. Tanner Smith.”

  Grandpa slapped his good hand on the table and grinned. “What are you going to do about all the knuckleheads who want you to stop building?”

  “Well, sir,” Destry said, “for one thing, I’ve hired Janessa to run my PR campaign.”

  Grandpa squinted at him, wrinkling his nose. “You hot-wired a remote control airplane? What does that have to do with anything?”

  A few of the women giggled.

  Rosie scooted her chair closer to the table, raising her voice. “Grandpa, you didn’t hear right. He said he hired Janessa Moore to run his Public Relations campaign.”

  Grandpa tipped his head back. “You don’t say? That ought to get a few people on your side. Janessa has a lot of work in front of her to make things right. She can’t undo her wrongs, but at least she can work toward a brighter future. “

  Rosie watched Grandpa trying to teach the women how to move the knight across the chessboard, but it was obvious from their blank stares that none of them understood. It seemed like such a waste of Grandpa’s time, being here in the nursing home. His mind was still sharp. The only reason he was here was because his body was worn out—that, and the fact that he was too stubborn to obey the doctors’ orders. Now they wouldn’t let him go home until he could hire someone to stay with him during the day. Luckily, she had a plan to make it happen.