by Betty Bolte
Grant rose from where he’d been sitting by the gas fireplace, converted years before from the wood burning type. The heat from the flickering flames removed the chill in the air created by the cold rain falling outside. He strode over to the rolling cart serving as the bar, several bottles of colorful liquor and an array of glasses and tools gleamed in the lamplight. Tara had filled the ice bucket before starting on the dining room, anticipating this very scene. She knew the men in her life.
“The bar is open. What will you have?” Grant swiped a hand over the display.
The ladies placed their orders, and Grant set to work filling them in record time. Just as he handed the last glass to Tara, footsteps sounded in the hall. She looked to the doorway as Beth and Roxie sashayed into the room. Tara expected to see dishevelment in their attire, but both were neat and tidy. After all the ruckus, they appeared none the worse. Even excited and energized.
Roxie surveyed the group with a content grin. “Grant, if you’d be so kind, would you fix me a Manhattan? Extra cherry syrup?”
Grant inclined his head to her. “Beth?”
“Same, please.” Beth sank onto a vacant seat on the sofa beside Meredith. “After we’ve enjoyed our drinks, it will be time to eat.”
Tara watched Grant pour bourbon and sweet vermouth into the shaker. He added ice, then bitters. Topped it off with some cherry syrup from the jar of maraschino cherries. He put the lid on and shook the mixture several times, the muscles on his upper arms flexing in the most tantalizing way. She blinked, focusing then on the smile he aimed her way. She lifted one brow in answer to his knowing look, then turned to listen to the conversation flowing around the silent exchange. Pretended to no longer be aware of his actions as he poured the concoction into rock glasses and dropped a cherry into each with strong fingers that she knew from experience felt wonderful wrapped around her. A warm buzz filled her chest at the memory. Time to think about anything else if she had any hope of maintaining her composure.
“Did you need someone to carve?” Max sipped his martini, a large green olive rolling slowly around as he tilted and then straightened the wide-mouthed glass.
Roxie accepted a glass with its dark red blend of liquor. “All taken care of. I’m letting the gravy simmer a while.”
“Not too long, I hope.” Grant moved to stand beside the wing back chair where Tara sat. He held a martini glass in one hand, the clear liquor revealing a lone olive in the bottom. “I’m starving.”
“Again?” Tara aimed an innocent smile up at him, batting her lashes at his surprised expression. “You’re always eating something.”
He chuckled and shrugged, sipped. “I’m a growing boy.”
Tara laughed at the absurdity of his claim. “Right. And I’m Betty Crocker.”
The banter continued in the same vein until Roxie finished her cocktail. Then she cleared her throat and stood, aiming a smile at each person as she addressed them. “Turkey time. Beth, Tara, will you put the side dishes on the table, please? Max, since you asked about the turkey, would you bring the platter in? Meredith and Paulette can head to the table. Zak and Grant can pour the wine. I’ll get the gravy. We’ll be set.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Zak helped Paulette to her feet, and handed the infant carrier to her. “Sweetheart, take Pat and make yourselves comfortable. The rest of us have our marching orders.”
Grant offered Tara a hand to help her stand, pulling her close for a quick kiss. “If you need help with anything, anything at all, let me know.”
She squeezed his hand and then released it. “We’ve got this.” She gave him a little push with one hand. “Go on. We’ll eat shortly so you won’t be starving any longer.”
True to her promise, amidst jostling and joking, the food was on the table, the wine was in the glasses, and everybody had taken their places around the harvest bounty. Tara mentally ticked off the menu to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. Sliced turkey, both dark and white meat, took pride of place on a large platter before Roxie. The gravy boat sat nearby. Bowls of green bean casserole, glazed cinnamon carrots, corn, mashed and candied sweet potatoes sent wisps of steam and their aromas mingling in the air. Beth’s signature cranberry sauce glimmered in its glass bowl as it was passed eagerly from hand to hand.
Pat, on the floor in his carrier, started to cry beside Paulette. She reached down to soothe him with a quiet word and gentle rocking of his carrier. After he settled into a contented silence, she straightened in her chair.
As if on a silent signal, Roxie lifted her wine glass. “Before we eat, I’d like to propose a toast.”
“Another delay?” Grant picked up his glass.
“A short toast.” Roxie grinned at him and then let her gaze light on each person at the table. “To our family and all those we love on this day of thanksgiving.”
Tara clinked glasses with Grant, sitting to her left, and then with Meredith on her right. As everyone took a sip from their glasses, she realized something she’d never considered before. An idea she mulled as she sipped her wine, thinking of each person surrounding her in the small dining room.
“Can we eat now?” Grant asked, reaching for the casserole nearest him.
Roxie nodded and reached for the meat fork on the turkey platter. “If you’ll pass your plates, I’ll dish up the turkey. The platter’s too heavy to pass.”
“I hope I didn’t put too much pepper in the beans.” Beth tightened her mouth, worry evident in her eyes.
“Is there such a thing?” Zak spooned dollops of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I like spicy.”
The conversation cemented the burgeoning thought. Tara poured gravy onto her turkey and mashed potatoes, then passed the dish to Meredith. “I just realized something.”
Grant glanced at her, an inquiring expression on his face. “What’s that?”
“I always thought Thanksgiving was about the food. You know, the bounty of the harvest and all that.” She looked from one to the other of the people around her. “But it’s not. Not really. It’s about coming together to be grateful for the family and friends we have in our lives.”
If the lessons of the hollow had done nothing else, they made her aware of the importance of the people she loved. She turned to Grant, laid a hand on his arm and squeezed. He nodded slowly, a small smile lifting his lips as he regarded her.
“Well said.” Roxie smiled at her. “Even if the food flops, as long as we have someone who cares about and for us, we have much to be thankful for.”
“The gathering together to share a special day, or even an ordinary day. The people we call family and friends are the reason for being thankful.” Tara returned the smile to her sister, understanding relaxing her tension about whether she could pass her sister’s test. She had succeeded by not relying solely on her own skills. Recognizing when she needed help and being willing to open her heart and mind to others and their abilities.
“Speaking of people in our lives.” Max added cranberry sauce to his plate, set the bowl down, and then looked at Grant. “I was contacted by a first response environmental organization opening a new office here in town.”
“Why are you looking at me when you say that?” Grant speared a bite of turkey, dredged it through his mashed potatoes, and then put it in his mouth. “I’m not a first responder.”
“I didn’t say you are.” Max speared a bit of turkey and held it aloft. “I think you can help me, though.”
Grant sipped his wine and set the glass on the table. “With what?”
“They’re looking for an environmental consultant. I don’t know anyone, since from what Tara said you’re happy with your job.” Max took a sip of wine, swallowed as he looked at Grant.
Grant cut a look at Tara and then addressed Max again. “What does she have to do with my job? I’m confused.”
Tara laid a hand on his arm. “He asked me if I thought you’d be interested in living in Roseville. I told him I didn’t think so.”
“I—” He hadn’t
seriously considered moving to the town, because without any means to support himself, let alone anyone else, such a move wasn’t feasible. But… “Why don’t you think I’d want to live here?”
Tara shrugged and looked at her plate. Afraid to address her fear that he would in fact leave and never return because the town held nothing of interest. “There’s nothing to do here compared to all the culture and activities in the big city, what you referred to as civilization. I didn’t think you’d be content.”
Grant shifted beside her so he could snare her chin with his fingers and make her lift her head to look at him. “You’re here. That’s the only reason I need to want to live here.”
She blinked at him slowly as she inspected his eyes looking for any hint of insincerity or subterfuge. Saw only honest, urgent hope. “Really?”
“Yes.” Grant leaned over to plant a kiss on her mouth, then with a wink turned to address Max. “What is this company looking for?”
“They’re looking for a professional geologist,” Max said, breaking a crescent roll in two. “I thought I’d ask you if you were interested or could recommend a colleague.”
Grant dropped his fork onto his plate, the ring of china echoing in the still room. “A geologist?”
Max raised both brows, a wicked smile aimed at Grant. “Yeah. Do you know anyone who might consider moving to a small town like this?”
“I think I most definitely do.” Grant grinned and nodded. “Me.”
“Really? That’s great. You’re more than qualified for the position, which is why I thought of you.” Max looked pleased. “I’ll give you their contact information after dinner. I’m positive they’d welcome you with open arms.”
“Thanks. That means…” Grant turned toward Tara, and took her hand in his.
Her pulse kicked up several notches when she noticed a gleam in his eyes as he pushed back from the table. Tugged on her hand to draw her to stand beside him. A hush fell over the table at the strange tableau. Six pairs of eyes aimed at her and Grant where they stood beside the table, facing each other.
“Tara, I know we’ve only known each other a short time. But I also know I cannot live without you. In fact, I don’t want to live without you in my life every single day.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she held them in. Waited to hear what she hoped to hear with every filament in her body.
“Tara Golden, if you’ll marry me, I promise to stay by your side, live here in Roseville where you want to be for the rest of your life. I’ll do all in my power to ensure your happiness, contentment, and safety as long as I draw breath. Will you marry me, Tara?”
“Oh, Grant…” Tears leaked from her eyes, and she smiled through them. “I want nothing more than to be your wife. Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”
He let out a whoop as he scooped her into his arms and spun around, laughing. Behind them, the table erupted in clapping and laughter. Tara felt a little dizzy from all the commotion and spinning, but happy in so many ways. After he set her on her feet, she held onto his arm until the room stopped spinning. Then she smiled at him.
“Grant, there’s only one thing you have to promise me.” She studied him, joy and a bit of devilment in her heart.
“Anything.” He slowly shook his head side to side as he smiled at her, holding both her hands in his. “You only have to ask, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
She wiped the smile from her face as she regarded him as seriously as she could. “The next time we go hiking…”
“If we go hiking?”
“When we go hiking.” She grinned at him. She couldn’t help it. The perplexed look he aimed her way proved too funny to ignore. “Let’s go on a very different trail than last time. Okay?”
He burst out laughing and then planted a long kiss on her lips. Pulling away, he grinned at her. “That’s a promise I’m happy to make.”
The End
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Thanks so much for reading The Touchstone of Raven Hollow! I hope you enjoyed Tara and Grant’s story. Beth and Roxie will each have their own stories, yet to be titled.
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