by Emma Woods
We walked out of the hardware store where the owner, Bill, and a half-dozen older men in faded overalls had chortled over the way Nate had thrown for over a hundred yards in the “big game.” I shook my head. Though they’d allowed us to put up a flier and promised donations, the conversation had mostly revolved around Nate’s glory days.
I turned to him, mouth open, to say something, though I wasn’t sure what.
Nate was looking at his phone and frowning.
“What’s up?” I queried.
He squinted down the street at the rest of the shops. “I didn’t really think this would take so long. I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”
“Where do you have to be? You promised to help pass out fliers.” I jabbed an accusing finger at him.
“What do you think we’ve been doing the past hour?” He looked at me as though I was losing my mind.
“’The past hour’? We’ve only been doing this for a little over half an hour, because you were late.” I savored how good it felt to throw that in his face. “If you would stay focused, we could have been done by now. Instead, we have to listen to you flirt with everyone in this town.”
Nate’s brow dropped. “That’s out of line. It’s not my fault that people like me. You probably don’t know what that’s like. See you later.”
I watched him go, speechless. After that, I was too angry to finish passing out fliers. I promised myself I’d do the rest the following day and stalked home, radiating anger and irritation.
7
Unsurprisingly, Nate stopped responding to my texts the next day as I tried to reschedule a time to finish handing out fliers and asking for donations. After my morning shift, I had to handle the task on my own. I had to admit that Nate had made it look easy the previous day. Where the shopkeepers and business owners welcomed him like a long-lost son, I was greeted with tight-lipped smiles and wary glances.
By the time I finished with the last business on Main Street, I was one big, tangled ball of emotions, none of which were good, and all of which were pointed fiercely at Nate. I was annoyed that he was so dang charming, and I was most definitely not. I was angry that he’d ditched me with the job only half-done. I was worried that the donations I’d attempted to solicit would be much smaller, since Nate hadn’t been there to help.
Matt texted later that afternoon to ask if I could close. He was needed at the ranch by his brother. I was happy to step in and lend a hand.
So, I pulled my Beanery v-neck back on, put my hair up in a high bun on the top of my head, and scooted back out the door with a wave to Mae, who was doing some sort of weird yoga in the study.
“Thanks a million for filling in,” Matt gushed. “Sophie specifically asked for tonight off, so you were the only person I could call.”
I laughed at his concern. “It’s really fine. No worries.”
He left, still apologizing, and I busied myself washing up a few dishes while the café was empty.
A few customers came and went over the next hour, but things were pretty quiet. I was able to mess around with combinations for my signature drink for the talent show.
Around nine o’clock, the door opened, and I looked up to see Nate stroll in and grin at me as though we were the best of friends. He approached the counter, attention on the menu board. I was sort of impressed that he didn’t burst into flames from the evil glare I was spearing him with.
Finally, his eyes met mine and he stepped back a tiny bit. “Whoa. What’s that look for?”
I squinted at him. Could he really be this oblivious? “Did you get my texts?”
“Oh, yeah, I did. I forgot to write back and tell you I was busy.” He looked relieved, as though this happened all the time and was no big deal. “Can I get a half-caf latte?”
“Sure,” I snarled.
The buffoon didn’t seem to notice that I was trying not to throttle him. Not only did he take his drink with a jaunty, “Thanks, Em,” but he then proceeded to sit at the table nearest the counter, pull out his phone, and glance at me repeatedly while he sipped his coffee.
I put all my mental energy into ignoring him while I served the group of teenagers who burst through the door, all demanding sugary caffeine. They greeted him like a dear friend, which Nate seemed to enjoy very much. I was glad when it was closing time and I could push them all out the door.
For reasons I can’t explain, over the next week, Nate suddenly decided to spend all his free time in the café whenever I was working. No sooner would I start my shift, then he would appear, with the exception of when I opened. In which case, he would appear at ten o’clock without fail and manage to linger for at least an hour.
The only way for me to survive this new habit of his was to keep our interactions short and to the point, and then to ignore him with every fiber of my being.
Therefore, I was irritated with him before I even arrived at the Triple Star Ranch for my next volunteering session. Just knowing that he’d saunter in, late as always, made my eye twitch.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re here early,” Dave said as soon as I entered the barn. “I wanted to give you the sign-up list for the show.”
We discussed the progress we’d made, and I updated the lists in my notebook. Jake, Sarah, and Chloe each came over, and we had an impromptu check-in. Though no one said it, we all knew that it was easier to meet without Nate being there, annoying us all.
Then the bus pulled in and we jumped into action. This group had several wheelchairs, and we would need all hands on deck. Which was made more challenging since Nate was nowhere to be found. The five of us wrestled everyone into place and found chairs for all the parents.
It wasn’t until Jake brought out Sparkles the pony that Nate arrived, sunglasses on and dressed like he was trying to impress a country club crowd. Since the rest of us were in our Just Horsing Around polo shirts, old jeans, and dirty boots, Nate only managed to stand out even more than usual.
I exchanged an annoyed glance with Sarah, and then ignored him when he leaned against the wall next to me. Unfortunately, his proximity proved to work against me.
Dave took the floor with his last-minute reminders and began to explain what would happen next. Because of all the kids in wheelchairs, there were fewer kids in the group and more chaperones. This had happened before and I knew that, once the actual interaction with horses began, I might be given an administrative job.
Sure enough, Dave instructed three kids and their parents to go with Sarah and the other two to go with Chloe. I helped everyone get out the door. Then Dave turned to me and said, “Why don’t you and Nate go into the office and make some fundraising calls?”
My smile turned wooden. I mumbled, “Sure.” I stomped off toward the office, Nate trailing behind.
Over the next hour and a half, I left six voicemails, confirmed five donations, got another dozen promises, and emailed the dress rehearsal schedule to the participants in the talent show. Nate made two calls and scrolled on his phone. I tried to pretend that he wasn’t there, but every time I looked his direction and saw him avoiding helping with this very important cause, my blood pressure rose a little more.
Dave came in as I was finishing the last call on my list. “How’s it going?” he asked.
“Pretty good,” Nate answered for me. He reached over and picked up my list of calls and handed it to Dave.
“Looks like you two made great progress.”
“Thanks,” said Nate.
Luckily, Dave checked his watch, handed my list back, and went back out to the barn before he could get in the splash zone of my fury.
My temper exploded like Mount St. Helens. “I can’t believe you,” I hissed.
“What?” Nate asked, leaning back in his chair and clicking his pen aimlessly.
“You just sat here doing nothing for an hour and a half, and then took credit for my work! In all my life, I’ve never met a lazier person than you.” I slammed my notebook onto my closed laptop.
Nate blew that off
with a shrug. “Whatever.”
Even as I continued, I knew my words were needlessly cruel, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from pouring out my long list of complaints against him. “You expect everyone to treat you like the crowned prince, and most people do it. Who cares if you could throw a ball ten years ago? If your best days were in high school, you have a long life of being mediocre ahead of you.
“And the worst thing is that you expect nothing of yourself! You excuse yourself from doing anything worthwhile. The kids who come here benefit tremendously from this program, but the only reason you’re here is because you have to be. Then, you shirk your chores and leave more for the rest of us to do.”
I was shaking with anger. “Every time I don’t treat you like you hung the moon, you look at me like you can’t figure out why I haven’t fallen for your charms. Maybe no one else has had the decency to tell you the truth, but I will. You are a good-for-nothing, lazy pretty-boy. When I leave this town, you will be the thing I’m happiest to leave behind.”
Face stony, Nate got to his feet, fists clenched. “You don’t know anything about me,” he snarled. “You don’t know what my life has been like.”
“Maybe not, but I have plenty of behavioral evidence to consider.”
“Shut up,” he hissed. “You’re completely wrong.”
My eyebrows rose up in challenge. “Am I? Go ahead and prove me wrong. I would love it if you got yourself together and showed me that you do care about something other than yourself. These kids would be a fantastic place to start. Oh, wait, you’re only here working with these kids with special needs because you’re trying to avoid going to jail. Huh. I think that proves my point.”
Nate looked like he was caught between fury, humiliation, and the need to punch something.
“It’s not like you have your life all together,” he flung out desperately.
“I’m not saying I do. It doesn’t matter if I have my life together, I’m making a difference. I care about other people. You, however, are completely self-absorbed. The only time you look around at other people is when you want something from them. You want the attention of some pretty girl, or you want someone to give you attention.” My initial temper was cooling, and I found myself wanting to tell him the truth rather than to hurt him. Mostly.
“I actually liked you.” Nate stood with his hands on his hips, looking betrayed.
“What did you like about me? How I look? What I can do for you? You say that you liked me, but you never once tried to be my friend. All of our interactions have been about you trying to get me to do whatever it is that you want. You could have talked to me instead of hitting on me. You could have seen when I needed help and pitched in. But you didn’t. Not once.” I crossed my arms, feeling like I’d just won my case.
Nate stood still for a long moment before turning and walking out the door without another word. I stepped to the window and watched him walk, defeated, to his car. He waved at someone without looking that way. I’d never seen him looking so hurt before.
I spent the rest of that day mulling over the words I’d thrown at Nate. I’d been harsh, hurtful even. I’d said true things, but had I been too cruel? Had my sharp words cut too deeply? I swung between feeling like my words were justified and berating myself for being unkind.
I expected to see him at the Beanery over the next few days, but he didn’t show up. He wasn’t at our Wednesday night staff meeting for Just Horsing Around, either. Dave mentioned that Nate had texted to say he’d be absent. Guilt wrapped itself around me, and my face grew hot.
What had I done?
8
As I drove the six miles to the ranch for my next afternoon of helping kids, I actually hoped Nate would be there. Historically, I had few qualms about telling people things that other people couldn’t or wouldn’t. I figured that since I wouldn’t be anywhere for long, it didn’t matter if my honesty affected our relationship.
Maybe it was Birch Springs itself that was making me need to know if Nate was okay. The sweet little town was growing on me more and more each day, and I actually found myself delaying thoughts of moving on whenever they’d pop up. Of course, my friends at Bumblebee House were also braiding our lives together, and I wondered if I would be able to extricate myself without inflicting serious pain on someone.
I refused to believe that my concern was due to anything about Nate himself. I found him irritating, immature, and totally self-centered. Sure, he was very good-looking and far more charming than anyone had a right to be. But I didn’t like him. At all. Right?
To my very great surprise, Nate’s souped-up Jeep was already parked near the barn when I arrived. I frowned at it as I pushed my sunglasses up and strode past. Nate never got anywhere early.
I entered the barn and stopped in my tracks. He was putting out folding chairs. My eyebrows were one with my hairline.
Jake walked in just after I did and said, “I’m guessing aliens.”
“Huh?” I asked.
“Aliens. I think he was abducted, and some alien took over his brain. He’s probably here doing recon for some lost tribe from Mars or something.”
I grinned at Jake and went to the office to discuss the newest developments with Dave.
All the Just Horsing Around staff watched Nate with disbelief that afternoon. He quietly helped the kids and parents, then went over and above what was asked of him when it was time to tidy up. He didn’t say much, and he definitely avoided meeting my eyes. When he waved goodbye and headed off to his car, Sarah and I exchanged wide-eyed looks.
Had my words had such an effect on him? Or was he just trying to prove a point? Surely, this new-and-improved Nate wouldn’t stick around for long.
But by Wednesday night’s meeting at the Beanery, Nate 2.0 showed up again. He was early and offered to get napkins for Chloe when her coffee tipped.
“The talent show is a week from Friday, can you believe it?” I asked the group. “We are in good shape, but there’s still a lot to be done. Dave, what’s the plan for the dress rehearsal?”
Nate’s phone pinged, but he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he sipped his coffee and nodded along with what Dave was saying. I was impressed.
Matt came over with small sample cups of the signature drink I’d invented. Everyone sipped it thoughtfully and began nodding.
“I wanted it to be a really special drink,” I explained. “That’s why there’s whipped cream on top. And I added the minty chocolate flakes on the whipped cream so it would look like an Appaloosa. I’m calling it an Appaloosa Latte. What do you think? Is it too much?”
The group was quick to assure me they loved the drink, thought it was just right for the event, and they liked the name idea.
I made a check mark on my to-do list next to “create signature drink” with a relieved smile. I’d put a lot of thought into my concoction and would have been secretly crushed if the feedback had been negative.
“How are ticket sales?” I asked.
Chloe began her report. We all nodded along as she spoke. We moved on to talking about all the other pieces that needed to come together to make the event a success. They hadn’t been kidding—it was a lot of work. But from what we could tell, we’d be raising several thousand dollars in this one evening.
“Do we have an emcee for the night? Dave, did your friend at the news station ever get back to you?” I asked as we reached the final item on my list.
Dave looked as though he’d been waiting for us to ask him this very question. “Yes, I’ve been able to confirm that Ted Wilmington will be our emcee.”
The rest of us weren’t nearly as impressed as he wanted us to be. Dave looked between our faces, read no more than mild satisfaction there, and deflated slightly.
I intervened. “That’s fantastic, Dave! A real celebrity. I bet a lot of people will want to come just to see him.”
This appeased him slightly, and we were able to wrap up the meeting without any more toes being stepped on. Once the meet
ing finished, the group was quick to disperse. Soon only Nate and I remained. He helped me return the extra chairs we’d borrowed and wipe down the table.
Nate had been quiet and attentive all night. It was time for me to say something.
“Hey, Nate, I wanted to say thanks for all your hard work lately. We’ve all appreciated you pitching in,” I said, careful to sound casual.
“I’m glad I’ve been able to help. You all do a lot around the ranch. I should have noticed earlier and made things easier for all of you a long time ago.” He seemed genuinely ashamed of himself.
It was exactly what I’d wanted to see just last week. But now, Nate’s embarrassment didn’t give me any pleasure. To my surprise, I didn’t want him humiliated after all. I was glad that he was helping out, sure, but my stomach clenched when I remembered that it was my harsh words that had prompted this action. I wasn’t sorry for being honest. However, I knew that hearing the truth had been really hard on him.
“I could use a hand getting decorations from Melbourne, if you have some time to spare,” I heard myself offer.
Nate pulled himself out of his self-deprecation a little. “Really? When were you thinking of going?”
“I have Saturday morning off, so I was planning to go then. There’s a craft store that has agreed to donate some centerpieces.” For reasons I didn’t want to examine too closely, I felt a little wobbly as I explained, waiting to hear if Nate would agree to run this errand with me.
“Yeah, I could definitely give you a hand.”
And that was how I found myself sitting in my van, Nate Weisert next to me, wound up like a clock. We’d agreed to meet at the Beanery at nine. Since we weren’t sure if his Jeep would have enough room for the decorations, we had decided to take my van.
I clutched my travel mug full of Matt’s best Columbian coffee and tried to figure out what to say to break the awkward silence.
Fortunately for me, a great Dolly Parton song came on, and Nate’s eyebrow rose.