by Vanessa Vale
Alice covered her mouth with a napkin, clearly trying to hide her smile. Huck slid his hand down Claire’s head, who happily forked a piece of strawberry and shoved it in her mouth.
I wasn’t so sure about that. Astrid had left me in Cutthroat. I knew where I stood with her. She’d made it very clear how she felt, and it wasn’t love.
All she felt for me was fake, fake, fake.
“No woman wants a man to pretend. That’s what gets him in trouble in the first place.” Alice added a humph to that and stabbed her fork into a cucumber slice.
“Take Sawyer for example and what happened at the preschool with Kelsey,” Huck said.
“What happened to Seesaw?” Claire turned her head and looked up at her father.
“Miss Kelsey thought Seesaw was pretending to be something he wasn’t and she got mad. Real mad,” he added.
Meaning she’d kneed him in the balls.
“I wasn’t the only one pretending. She paid for me to do it.” I knew that was a stupid thing to say but the words fell out anyway. I sounded like I was nine and trying to tell my parents it was Huck’s fault the cows had black spots painted on them.
“Why?” Alice asked. “Astrid’s a lovely woman. Why would she need to buy a date?”
“She’s happily single but wanted a guy to go with her to the wedding. Her ex is the best man,” I explained. “She wanted a date to be a buffer.”
“That makes sense,” Sarah said. “I mean, what better way to have confidence than having a handsome man on your arm in front of an ex?”
“Hey!” Huck muttered.
Sarah tilted her chin and gave him a look. “What?”
“Why is Thatcher the handsome one?”
Sarah rolled her eyes and laughed. “Thatcher’s a catch. For someone else,” she added, to make him feel better. The idiot. I wasn’t the Manning who’d been handcuffed to his headboard.
“You were to be her fake boyfriend for the entire weekend?”
I took a sip of water, set my glass down. “Yes.”
“A buffer,” Alice repeated.
“Yes.”
“So you buffered even when you weren’t with her ex?” Alice gave me another pointed look.
I caught the innuendo and did everything I could not to blush, or to have my dick get hard remembering all the buffering Astrid and I had done.
“Finished?” Huck asked Claire.
She nodded, then looked to Alice. “May I be excused?”
Alice’s glare dropped away and she gave Claire a soft smile. “You may.”
Claire hopped down from her booster and Huck handed her her plate to carry to the kitchen. The clatter of the dish hitting the counter was followed by her sneakered feet as they dashed off.
“I think it’s kind of cute,” Sarah admitted.
“You were at the auction,” I said to Alice. “Miss Turnbuckle’s the one who bought me. Does it make you feel any better that she was in on this whole thing?”
Alice pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.
“What are we missing?” Sarah asked. “If Miss Turnbuckle helped, then there’s got to be a good reason.”
Alice thought, then nodded in quiet agreement. No one doubted Miss Turnbuckle’s integrity.
I huffed out a breath. Where the hell did I start? “Her family’s psycho.” I hopped up from my chair and paced the kitchen. Just talking about them got me riled. “Besides Miss Turnbuckle, of course. She’s Astrid’s great-aunt. Her parents and sister, Amy, live in Cutthroat. They think she’s fat. That she plays at baking. That she should have turned a blind eye to her ex’s cheating. That if she was better at pleasing a man, he wouldn’t have cheated in the first place.”
Sarah stared, her mouth practically hanging open. “I should give their number to my dad.”
O’Banyon was an asshole and they’d probably get along like a house on fire. Which reminded me.
I pointed at Huck. “By the way, you should check out Bunky for the preschool fire and whatever other shit he’s got going on.”
He arched a brow and his fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “Oh?”
“If her family wasn’t fun enough, Bunky and Lynn were at the party last night. Astrid’s dad said he was surprised that Bunky had pulled himself out of the casino and wondered if he’d won back the money he’d lost. Bunky looked a little green.”
Huck thought for a moment, nodded. “He could have paid that idiot to burn the preschool down for the insurance money but did such a bad job that Bunky won’t see a dime. That only makes his situation worse, if he’s gambled away his inheritance and won’t get money to overhaul that building.”
“Didn’t you say Lynn’s car was stolen?” Sarah asked.
“And didn’t Kelsey say they met at a casino in Colorado?” I’d forgotten about that until now.
Huck nodded, then set his fork down. “I’ll look into it. If this shakes out, he’ll see jail time.”
“Thatcher, while you’re up, cut a few more slices of the bread,” Alice said.
I went around the counter, picked up the bread knife and started slicing the baguette on the cutting board. I couldn’t help but smile. “Bunky behind bars? Couldn’t happen to a better person.”
“Why are you back early then? Isn’t the wedding tomorrow?” Alice asked, steering the topic back to where she wanted it.
I tried not to growl as I ruthlessly cut a slice of bread. “Astrid learned something that made her mad. She left Cutthroat. She’s not going to the wedding.”
“So you’re no longer her boyfriend,” Alice added.
I glanced up. “I never was her boyfriend.”
“That’s good since you’re going to Mexico.”
“That’s what I told her,” I said, making sure Alice knew I’d been up front with Astrid. But Cozumel felt really far away. The beach sounded hot and sweaty and dealing with tourists every day seemed more like a pain than fun. And Kent was still waiting for me to reply to his text about going early.
I sliced another piece with more effort than necessary.
“She stood up for herself, skipping the wedding,” Alice stated. “Her family will know they disappointed her.”
I raised the bread knife and swung it around as I spoke. “Disappointed her? Amy slept with her ex!”
Sarah gasped, but didn’t say anything.
“Yeah, that’s what she found out. Her ex cheated on Astrid with her own sister.”
Alice shrugged. “Between you and this ex, she’ll have learned what not to look for in a man.”
My eyes bugged out at Alice’s words. How calm she was. “I am nothing like Eddie. He’s an asshole. He doesn’t give a shit about her.”
She didn’t usually like us swearing and called us out on it. Why she wasn’t now, I wasn’t sure.
“And you do?” Alice asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Yes. She’s smart and the most talented artist I’ve ever met. Have you seen her frosting flowers? She’s not fat, she’s got perfect curves that I—” I cut myself off on that one. “She’s a ringer at softball and when she smiles, the entire room lights up.”
Sarah looked at Huck. Huck looked at Sarah. Alice smiled.
“But it was all fake. Everything you did together,” Alice prodded.
Why was she being so mild? Wasn’t she mad for Astrid? How did she not understand?
“Hell no,” I countered. “None of it was. Not one kiss. Not—” I ran a hand over the back of my neck, realized I’d almost cut my head off, then dropped the knife. It clattered on the wooden chopping block. “It was easy. Being with her. Liking her. It was… oh fuck. Claire was right.”
“Claire?” Huck asked on a laugh.
“She said it was easy.”
“What?” Alice asked.
“Love.”
Sarah clapped her hands. I stared at Alice, stunned. She smiled, pleased with herself, taking me around in circles until I got where she wanted me to go.
“I don’t love her,
” I said.
“Then why are you strangling that loaf of bread?” Huck asked, amused.
I glanced down, saw that I’d practically squeezed the bread to death. I let it go, then ran my hands over my face.
“I can’t do love,” I admitted.
“Why not?” Sarah asked, coming into the kitchen to give me a hug. “It’s not so bad.”
I looked down at her, saw the happiness on her face. Huck had given this to her. Completed her.
“People die, Sarah. They go away.”
Her smile slipped and when she lifted her hand to my jaw, tears filled her eyes. “I know.”
I looked up at the ceiling, feeling like a total asshat. “Shit, I’m sorry. Of course you know. Bad things happen.” Like her losing the baby she and Huck made.
“But good things do too.” She looked to Huck. “So many good things. I think I’m qualified to say that the good far outweighs the bad.”
I shook my head. “I barely know her.”
Sarah’s hand on my cheek gave me a little smack. “We’re not telling you to go marry the woman.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I felt split open. Raw. Panicked. I didn’t talk about feelings. I was the easygoing brother. It was safer being happy-go-lucky. The brother that didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders. But I did.
I felt it now. I wanted to go to Astrid and make her hurt go away. To fill in the void that her family had made.
“Just pass on going to Mexico and take her on a date.”
“It’s that simple?” Was it really that simple? Was it easy like Claire said?
“What does your heart tell you?” she asked.
I looked to Alice, who gave a little nod.
Huck stayed quiet, which was probably smart.
My heart was telling me Astrid deserved someone to love her unconditionally. Who didn’t care what her size was. If she had flour on her cheek. If she could hit a home run or fuck like a porn star. I wanted to give that to her.
“She deserves more than me.”
“I think you’re enough, Thatcher Manning,” Sarah said. “You’re a good man who deserves everything. Don’t hold yourself back. It sounds like she has too.”
I nodded, thinking of how she’d pushed me away. To protect herself. Her family was a disaster, and she didn’t want love because she had horrible examples and it was safer to not to. I steered clear of it because I’d had such good examples that I knew how amazing it could be. And how devastating when it disappeared.
Like now. With Astrid somewhere else, with her hurting, I wanted to fix it. To take the pain away. For her to give it to me to help. To hand over those reins just as she had in her parents’ kitchen.
And that might mean I had to hand over the reins to her right back.
“I gotta go,” I said.
Sarah stepped back, nodded.
I fled, knowing exactly what I was going to do.
15
ASTRID
Maybe I was an idiot. Maybe I was going to look back on this moment and cringe. Maybe I was stupid showing up at Thatcher’s house in the softball outfit I’d had on all day with my face all blotchy and my eyes swollen. Glancing in the van’s rearview mirror, I cringed and wished I hadn’t.
But Thatcher knew the worst about me. Knew the very alive skeletons in my closet. Would he still be interested in me after meeting my parents and Amy? God, was he even at the ranch? I’d left him in Cutthoat. Was he hitchhiking his way home?
“Shut up, brain,” I muttered, slowing as I approached the archway to the Manning Ranch. Small rocks on the dirt road crunched beneath the wheels. I’d never been out this way before, but it was beautiful. The sun was working its way lower in the sky and the prairie was lit in golds and vibrant green. In the distance, I could see the house.
Thatcher’s house.
I was doing this. Aunt Jean and Mary had given me a pep talk after I’d blurted out that I was in love with Thatcher. I needed to apologize. To tell him how I felt. That I didn’t want anything fake between us. That everything was real.
Some of it, too real.
If I turned around now, Aunt Jean was going to kill me. Mary’d probably quit and that would be bad.
I turned down the driveway, clutching the wheel.
“It’s not fake. It’s not fake,” I repeated as I pulled up in front of the house.
Before I could climb the steps to the porch, the front door opened and a little girl ran out, a small puppy running after her.
She was around five, had blonde hair that was long and damp and she was wearing green pajamas. While she made it down the steps just fine, the puppy tumbled down the last one, popped up with his tongue hanging out and caught up to the little girl.
“You bought Uncle Thatch and you’re here for him!”
She hopped up and down in front of me as I looked down at her.
“Um… yes.”
“I knew it!”
“Claire,” a voice called. I looked to the open doorway and Huck Manning appeared. He gave me a smile. “Sorry about that. She’s excited that you’re here. You must be Astrid.”
Nodding, I said, “Yes. Is Thatcher here?”
“Claire, give her some room.”
I looked down at her and stroked her corn silk hair. “You’re Claire?”
She nodded.
“I’m Astrid. Who’s your friend?” The dog was wiggling and jumping around Claire trying to get her attention.
“Sandy. She’s my new dog!”
They were a wiggly duo with the same hair color. Sandy was sweet as could be and clearly loved Claire.
“You are a very lucky girl to have her.”
“Thatcher’s not here,” Huck said, coming down to join us, picking up the puppy and patting her head.
I wilted. My shoulders drooped and I looked down at the ground hoping I didn’t start crying again. “Please say he’s not hitchhiking back from Cutthroat.”
Huck laughed as the dog wiggled and he put her down. Immediately, she tugged at one of his boot laces. “No, he got back. But he’s in town.”
I lifted my head, looked at Thatcher’s brother. They were of a similar size, but they didn’t look all that alike. Huck was blond, like Claire.
“Oh. Thanks.”
I turned toward my van to leave.
“Astrid, he’s in town for you.”
THATCHER
I didn’t know where Astrid lived. I didn’t think of that until I hit the edge of town and had to call Alice. Of course she knew. Turned out Astrid lived above her bakery which was off the far end of Main Street. The building was one of the original stores when the town was founded. Two story and brick, it had a charming front. Parking at the curb, I looked up at the second floor. No lights were on.
The shop was closed, and I went around back to search for a separate apartment entrance. There was none and the van wasn’t in the spot off the alley.
I had to call Alice again and ask for Miss Turnbuckle’s address. I felt like an idiot, but I was on a mission. I wanted Astrid. I wanted to try her strawberry shortcake and show her my barn house. I wanted to take her to dinner. I wanted to climb in her bed after a night at the Lucky Spur when she was waking up to bake for the day.
I didn’t know what any of that really meant except I wanted more. I wanted it to be real.
Miss Turnbuckle didn’t live in the library after all, but a small house a few blocks from Claire’s preschool. It was painted white with black shutters and glossy front door. Window boxes filled with red flowers flanked the entry. It was neat and tidy, just like the owner.
“Hello, Thatcher,” Miss Turnbuckle said when she answered the door. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, when the puppy in my arms wiggled and wanted to lick the woman. She laughed as she pet him.
“He doesn’t have a name yet. I thought Astrid might name him.”
Miss Turnbuckle looked up at me with awe. “The dog’s for Astrid? Well done, young man.”
The
one thing Astrid needed was some unconditional love. If she felt she couldn’t get it from people, then she’d get it from a dog. Miss Turnbuckle seemed to think so.
Miss Turnbuckle laughed as the puppy kicked out his leg over and over when she scratched a spot on his side.
“Is Astrid here?” Since the woman was so short, I peeked into her house over her head. I wasn’t one to snoop, but I wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
“She’s at your ranch, dear.”
I looked down at her, stared. “At the ranch?”
She nodded but kept her eyes on the puppy. “She went there for you.”
How had we missed each other on the road into town? Her van was pretty obvious.
I pulled out my cell, fumbled with it since I was holding the puppy.
“Astrid’s here,” Huck said first thing.
I was equally relieved and frustrated.
“Don’t let her leave. Sit on her if you have to.”
I shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“Ma’am, good seeing you.”
“Go, dear.” She gave me a smile and a pat on the arm.
I nodded, then hopped in my truck and floored it back to the ranch. Good thing I knew the chief of police to get me out of any speeding tickets.
ASTRID
I sat on the porch steps beside Huck as we watched Claire and her new puppy run around. I wasn’t sure who was chasing who. But they were adorable, and it was impossible not to smile, even when I didn’t feel like doing so.
My nerves were getting the best of me since Thatcher called Huck. He patiently waited with me for Thatcher to come from town, but I had a feeling it was more of a babysitting job for me than for watching Claire. He didn’t say a word, which was even more unnerving.
When Thatcher came down the drive, I popped up. This was what I’d been wanting to do for an hour. To see him. Talk to him. Yet as I wrung my hands, I wasn’t sure if this was such a good idea after all. All my doubts came rushing back and every bold and daring part of me wilted away. I was left unnerved and frazzled. Excited and panicked.