Fifteen minutes later, the denim-covered box was handed to silver-haired City Councilman Mike Stacy, a professional auctioneer. “Smells pretty darn good,” he said, turning it around. “And it’s mighty nice-looking, too. So who wants to open up the bidding on this masterpiece?”
“Five dollars,” someone on the other side of the gazebo shouted.
Councilman Stacy pointed in that direction. “Five dollars—do I hear six?”
“You’re really sure?” the second boy asked from behind Dylan.
“Totally. Now, how much do we want to bid?”
“Six!” the other shouted, instead of answering.
Dylan wanted to turn around and tell them that bidding on her basket, if it was her basket, wasn’t going to help them much where Glory was concerned. But he didn’t want to hurt them, so he kept quiet.
By the time the bid went to fifteen dollars, Dylan was feeling a little uncomfortable, and the boys just kept bidding.
“Sixteen!” he called out before realizing what he’d done.
Dusty slapped him on the back. “There ya go. I knew you’d pick it up. It’s just like bidding on a prize heifer.”
The next thing Dylan knew, the bid went up another half-dollar.
“Don’t give up now,” Morgan said, from his other side.
Dylan stuck with it, until he won the bid at twenty dollars. He hoped it was worth it.
Councilman Stacy held the basket high. “Would the little lady who this belongs to please step up to join this gentleman for supper?”
Dylan turned to look at Dusty. “What? What’s going on? What does that mean?”
Dusty glanced at Morgan and shrugged. “Nobody told you?”
The crowd began to part, and Dylan began to panic. “Told me what?”
“The bidder gets to share the contents with the woman who made the basket.”
Dylan watched as the crowd moved to reveal the owner. Stepping out and passing the other bidders and basket makers, Glory raised her hand. “It’s my basket,” she announced, and glanced at Dylan.
When he saw the hesitancy in her eyes, he wondered why, but he also wondered if Dusty and Morgan had encouraged him to bid on purpose. Of course, it wasn’t their fault. He’d listened to the boys and let the thrill of competition get the best of him. If only he’d known he’d been bidding to share the contents with her. He could only hope he was ready for this, because he couldn’t think of a way out. The crazy thing about it was that he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
* * *
GLORY REALIZED SHE’D just cleared her throat for the third time in less than five minutes. What was it that made her so nervous? She’d been around Dylan nearly every day for almost a month, so there was no reason to feel nervous around him. They were friends. Or at least that was what she kept telling herself every time he stepped into the room and she found herself feeling like a teenager with a crush. It was crazy.
“Looks good,” he said.
Her hands trembled as she pulled out the container of potato salad and set it on the picnic table. “I hope it’s worth your bid. I haven’t done a lot of cooking.”
“Neither have I.”
Sure he was laughing at her, she looked up and straight into his green eyes. That simple act chased every thought from her mind.
“Here, let me help.”
His voice jerked her back to reality, and she tried to get a grip on herself. “Thank you.”
Neither of them spoke again as they placed the food, plates and utensils on the table. When they were done, he leaned back and looked at the table. “I think I got a good deal on this box-social thing.”
A nervous giggle bubbled inside her, but she kept it from escaping. “We’ll see if you still think so after you’ve tasted everything.”
She felt his gaze on her when he replied. “I’m not scared.”
“Maybe you should be.”
Picking up his plate, she filled it, while he uncorked the bottle of wine she’d added to the basket at the last minute.
“You don’t mind?” he asked, indicating the bottle in his hands, when she looked up.
“That’s up to you,” she answered with a shrug. But somehow she felt she could trust him. “Really, it’s okay with me.”
She watched as he poured wine into two glasses, while her thoughts chased around in her head. Feeling she should at least give him some sort of explanation of her reaction at finding the box of bottles, she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about the way I reacted that day. It isn’t any of my business. But my father sometimes drank too much, although not all the time. And Kyle—”
“He could drink everybody in the class under the table.”
Nodding, she thought about how Kyle would come home, reeking of bourbon and perfume, and she never said a word. She’d been the good little wife, just as she’d been the good little daughter. And she’d never been happy. Now, for the first time that she could remember, she was discovering what it was like to enjoy life without the fear of doing or saying the wrong thing.
“So, what do you do for fun?” she asked.
“Ranching doesn’t leave much time for fun.”
She noticed that he didn’t look at her when he answered, and she wondered why. “Are you saying that work is your fun?”
He still avoided looking at her. “Luke and I have been busy making a success of the ranch. There hasn’t been a lot of free time.”
“Everybody needs to get away, no matter how important your work is. But you’re saying no vacations, no trying something new, just for the fun of it?”
He looked up and straight into her eyes. “If I said that, I’d be lying.”
“Aha! So spill,” she teased. “I swear I won’t tell a soul.”
“Never thought you would.”
When he didn’t continue, she hoped a little verbal nudge would get him talking. “So what is it you do?”
He took a drink of wine, then pushed the glass away. “Every year in the spring, I take a trip somewhere and try something new.”
Propping her elbows on the table, she watched him, pleased that she’d dragged something out of him and eager to learn more. “In the spring? Like in May?”
“Late May.”
She knew exactly when and was reminded again of the change in him after the accident that had killed his parents. “Is there a place you like better than others?”
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “The mountains. And I like the ocean, too. It just depends.”
“On what?”
“On what I want to do.”
“Such as?”
He stood and untangled his long legs from the bench of the picnic table. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
“I—” She sensed something in him that she couldn’t define. What could it be that he did every year that he wouldn’t share with her? A lot of things immediately came to mind, but none of them were anything she thought Dylan would do or even want to do. At least not the Dylan she remembered.
“You know,” she said, thinking out loud, “you may think I don’t remember you that much from school, but I do.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “You were one of the nice boys. I never once heard you bully anyone. In fact, I once saw you stand up for Danny Johnson when Kyle and some of the others were giving him a hard time.”
“I don’t remember that.”
She suspected he did, but it was obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it. Giving up on trying to get him to talk to her, she stood, ready to end their lovely picnic and call it a day.
“I’ve been white-water rafting,” he announced.
Her hands stilled, and she looked up from clearing the table. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah. And rock climbing.”
“Oh, Dylan, that’s so— Isn’t it scary? I mean, hanging on the side of a mountain or whatever?”
He met her gaze. “I like parasailing a lot, too.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Are you telling me you’ve really done all those things?”
“Yeah, all of them. And more.”
There was only one more question she needed to ask. “Why?”
He shrugged and looked off in the distance. “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s so different than ranching. Or maybe it’s because I can.”
“You’re a risk taker, then,” she said. “Is that it?”
“Maybe. I don’t think about it. I just do it.”
“Tempting fate? Isn’t that kind of, well, crazy?”
“I guess I don’t see it that way. I enjoy doing those things. It’s exhilarating.”
And dangerous. But he already knew that, so she didn’t bother to point it out.
He helped her pack the last of the things into the box, and then they stood, looking at each other. “You’re a pretty good cook, you know that?”
She smiled at the compliment. “With a little practice, I might get better.”
“I’m glad it was your box I bid on. I had a real nice time.”
She hoped he wasn’t just trying to be polite, but before she could worry about it, she felt him move closer. Looking up, she realized what was about to happen, and she couldn’t have stopped him if she’d wanted to.
His lips touched hers, tentatively, sweetly, lingering for a moment. And then the kiss was over. She nearly died. She wanted more. She knew it was wrong. Very wrong. But that didn’t keep her from wanting.
Chapter Seven
He never should have kissed her.
Dylan leaned back against the south side of the barn, waiting for the big stock tank to fill with water, and tried to focus on his most recent white-water canoeing trip. It had been the most exciting—and dangerous—thing he’d tried yet. At one point, he’d nearly lost his canoe when a sudden shift in the flow of water took him over a waterfall. He’d honestly thought he’d be taking his last breath, but somehow he’d managed to survive. Trying to run it through his mind again to feel the exhilaration and total fear wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped. The image of Glory’s sweet face, tipped up to his, kept taking over. “Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head. This had to stop. He’d rather ride that rapid again ten times than let himself fall for someone, especially Glory.
It wasn’t as if he’d planned to kiss her or given it any thought in advance. It had just happened. He couldn’t have stopped himself from doing it, if he’d even considered it. He hadn’t. He was in the middle of it before he realized what he was doing. Not knowing how to tell her that he’d enjoyed sharing the box supper with her more than he’d ever enjoyed anything could have been a factor. But if he tried to blame it on that, he’d be lying. The fact was he’d been watching her, thinking of things he shouldn’t, and she’d looked up at him with something in her eyes that he couldn’t name. Before he knew what was—
“Shouldn’t you turn off the water?”
He whipped his head around to see Glory standing at the corner of the barn, while not a foot away from him the tank was overflowing. All he wanted to do at that moment was whack the back of his head against the side of the barn until his common sense returned. He suspected that might not ever happen. He seemed to be losing chunks of that common sense every time she came around.
“Yeah, uh, thanks. I wasn’t paying attention,” he said. “I’ll have to turn it off in the barn.”
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here to bother you again,” she said as he started for the barn entrance.
Not having a clue how to reply, he kept silent and entered the barn. Reaching the faucet, he turned it off, and realized she’d followed him inside. “You’re not bothering me. You pointed out that I wasn’t paying attention. No telling how long I’d have stood there with water pouring over my boots.”
To his surprise, she laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. But your mind was definitely not on the tank.”
No, it was on you. Not that he could admit it to her. He didn’t even like admitting it to himself.
He looked up when he heard her clear her throat.
“If you have the time...” she said, without looking at him directly, “there’s something I’d like to show you. If you can spare a few minutes.”
Other than some disaster, he could think of only one thing she could want to show him. “Is my office done?” he asked. She’d asked him to stay away from what used to be his bedroom while it was being worked on, and his curiosity had gotten to the point that his patience was wearing thin.
She shook her head. “Not quite. But soon.”
“Right.” Soon was the answer she gave the most often when asked about the progress of his house.
Her smile was tentative at first, and she ducked her head for a moment before turning to walk out of the barn. “This one is different. I think you’ll be surprised,” she said over her shoulder when he followed.
He didn’t doubt he would be. She’d been nothing but surprises since walking into his house that first morning. But that was not what he needed to be thinking about. “So what’s left to do?” he asked.
“Do? Oh, you mean with the house. Other than your office and the kitchen, which may be ready later today, the living room needs some finishing touches, new paint in the dining room—which won’t take long—and the last bedroom.”
For a second, he couldn’t take a breath. The changes and decorating would be done soon. Glory would collect her pay and leave. He wouldn’t see her unless it was in town. Wasn’t that a good thing?
His chest tightened when he realized he didn’t want her to just disappear from his life. But she would. Even if she didn’t, there wasn’t anything he could offer her. His life was the ranch. That was what he’d chosen.
She was nearly at the house by the time he caught up with her. Reaching around her as she stepped up on the first step, he opened the old screen door and once again felt the loss of his parents. Losing someone and the pain it left was not something he wanted to experience again. Not only had he made the wrong choice when he didn’t go straight home the afternoon of the storm, but he’d never realized his grief would affect so many things in his life.
“Upstairs,” she said, walking through the kitchen and into the dining room.
Only a few steps behind her, he followed her up the stairs. “What’s left up here?”
“The last bedroom,” she answered, reaching the top. “I want to know what you think of what I’ve been working on.”
“I don’t know anything about decorating,” he insisted. “I don’t know how I can help.”
At the door of the last of the four rooms, she stopped. “I did something a little different. I just want to be sure it’s all right.”
Shrugging, he followed her into the room, and immediately saw what she’d done. “Are those clouds?” he asked, looking around.
“You could tell!” she said from behind him.
He faced her and wondered how she could have been worried. “Well, yeah. It’s pretty obvious.”
“What’s obvious?”
They both turned toward the door.
“Wow,” Luke said. “This is unbelievable.” He grinned at Glory. “In a good way.”
“Then you like it?”
“Who wouldn’t? Dylan, you like it, don’t you?” Luke asked.
Dylan nodded, wondering how either of them could think he didn’t. “I’m blown away.”
Glory’s previously uncertain smile widened. “I thought it was something anyone would be comfortable with, but I was really thinking of Brayden, Luke. I could imagine him staring up at the clouds.”
“Good idea,” Dylan said before Glory could think of a reason to say no.
She pointed to the ceiling. “The stars up there glow in the dark.”
Dylan was amazed that she thought of little things like that. He’d never expected her to do the thorough job she’d done. Some fresh paint and a few other things were all he’d imagined. She’d definitely gone above and beyond.
“When the boys get here tomorrow, I’ll have them move the furniture back in,” she said, walking toward the door. Looking back, she stopped. “Wait—I forgot to take that box of Erin’s things with me,” she said.
“I’ll get it,” Dylan said.
She hurried to the corner of the room. “We already went over this, remember?” She picked up the box and held it close. “I’ll take it and give it to her the next time I see her.”
“She thinks I’ll read Erin’s old diaries,” he explained to Luke.
Luke grunted. “As if there was anything in there except stuff about her horse.”
“Right.” Dylan glanced at Glory.
“You probably would snoop,” she said with a sniff.
“You’re wrong, but okay, you can take care of the box.”
She stopped at the door. “I think I hear Ned in the kitchen. Maybe you should check to see if he’s ready for the appliances.”
“Are you staying around?” Dylan asked.
Stepping outside into the hall, she looked back and shook her head. “No, I have some work to do at the shop today.”
When Glory was gone, Luke turned to Dylan. “I guess my timing was good. I told Hayley I was hoping we’d get a chance to finish the kitchen today.”
“I’m ready if you are. Lead the way.”
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