by Jillian Hart
“They leave tomorrow for Florida. Retirement. I can’t picture that.” He started the engine and gunned down the driveway with the speed and skill of someone who had done it thousands of times. Trees whipped by along with rolling green fenced fields full of grazing horses. The view of the Tetons and the Wyoming sky could knock the breath out of you. Frank turned the truck onto the paved county road. “I’m going to wind up like my dad. I’ll be here until the end of my days.”
“It’s not a bad life sentence.”
“I reckon not. Say, I hear you’re on the rebound,”
Frank said as if he were discussing the weather and not dropping a bombshell.
“Where did you hear that?” He chuckled. “Who am I rebounding with?”
Then he knew. He remembered Eloise’s hand beneath his, the feminine feel of her slender fingers entwined between his. The talk they’d shared on the porch in plain view of anyone walking by. “Cady told you, didn’t she?”
“She mentioned seeing you and Eloise together.” Frank kept his gaze on the road as if indifferent, but there was no missing his knowing grin.
“We were having a cool drink after fetching the horses. No big deal.”
“No big deal. Sure, I get that. Except the two of you were holding hands.”
Nothing was private in a small town. Sean chuckled. “Looks are deceiving. Cady saw me comforting a friend, that was all.”
“A friend. If that’s what you want to call her, fine by me.” Uncle Frank’s ear-to-ear grin said he knew differently.
He would be wrong. “Eloise has had a tough time. We were talking about it. Friends do that.”
“You don’t need to convince me.”
As if that were even possible. It looked as if his uncle had already made up his mind. Sean shifted on the seat to watch a hawk glide by over the long stretch of field. He and Eloise knew the truth. On the rebound?
He shook his head. It would take a long time before he would be ready to jump in and risk a romantic relationship, rebound or not.
Talk turned to the subjects of the ranch and family until town came into view. The truck rolled to a stop in front of the diner’s wide picture windows and a familiar fall of straight golden hair and a cute profile drew his attention. Eloise sat at a booth with a fork poised in midair, listening intently to something her dinner partner said.
Dinner partner. Sean’s brain clicked into gear. Her date. She was on a blind date this evening. He frowned at the guy who wore a white dress shirt and dark slacks and had a wholesome, all-American look to him. Sean bristled. He didn’t trust that guy. He unlatched his seat-belt, opened the door and dropped to the ground. On the other side of the sun-streaked glass, she turned toward the window, toward him, and her gaze arrowed to his.
Surprise flashed in her gentle green eyes before she returned her attention back to her dinner date. In that one moment he felt dismissed, a friend and not more, just as he’d insisted on being.
Chapter Five
He’s coming into the diner! That single realization sent nerves zipping through Eloise’s stomach as she watched George cut what remained of his chicken-fried steak into tiny pieces. She trained her eyes on her dinner date but her attention slipped toward the opening door even if her gaze didn’t. The door swung open and in the background Sean sauntered in. He planted his hands on his hips but he didn’t glance her way. His mile-wide shoulders squared as he ambled down the far aisle with his uncle and out of her field of vision.
“… I am up for a promotion right now,” George explained as he precisely set his knife on the edge of his plate. With an unsatisfied frown, he moved it slightly until he was pleased with the angle it made on his plate rim. “You could be looking at the next regional manager.”
“Wow.” What else could she say to that? It was a plus he actually had a job, but he was really hung up on himself. The signs were hard to miss, blaring like a neon banner throughout the meal.
“There would be a lot of travel involved with being regional manager.” He repeated the title, as if simply to hear himself say it. “After that, I could go after the sectional manager position. I have a lot of advancement opportunities, unlike you. That’s the problem with thinking small. You have to find a job with room to move.”
“Clearly.” Yes, that was her problem. She rolled her eyes. She thought too small. Glad she’d met George so she could learn that. She took a bite of grilled chicken and resisted the urge to glance at the clock on the wall behind her. How was it possible that time could move this slowly? Surely the evening was almost over—and the date.
But no, George went right on talking.
“I have a ten-year plan.” He precisely speared a perfectly cubed piece of steak with his fork.
“A ten-year plan to be sectional manager?” She tried to listen, she really did, but Sean’s magnetism pulled at her attention like he was a black hole sucking up all the gravity in the room. It was his fault, not hers, her gaze slipped just a few inches to the left to bring the farthest booth into her peripheral vision.
Sean. Her hand tingled as she remembered the comfort he’d given her today. She hadn’t planned to open up to him or to anyone. She would rather keep the truth behind her breakup with Gerald bottled inside where it was easier to deny. Hearing herself tell part of the story to Sean had helped and she felt better. He’d been easy to talk to.
“No, ten years to realize my plan of being the manager of the entire western half of the country.” George chewed exactly twenty-two times before continuing. “I have a deep understanding of paper products and I want to bring that to the world.”
“Good for you.” She set down her fork, truly able to say she was no longer hungry. Lord, please let this date come to an end.
“Oh, a spill. Here, let me.” He scooped up his napkin, reached across the table and dabbed at the base of her water glass. He swiped away the few drops of perspiration that had trickled onto the faded Formica as if it were the Ebola virus needing to be eradicated. He wasn’t pleased until he had used a handful of paper napkins from the dispenser to dry off every streak. Once he was satisfied he had decontaminated the site thoroughly, he gave a nod and continued. “I’ll be right on schedule if I land the regional position. The key to success is to set short achievable goals that lead you to the end goal.”
The waitress must have spotted her distress because she padded over, sneakers squeaking on the tile, and dropped the check on the edge of the table. “Hey, there, Eloise. Do you two need anything else?”
“No, absolutely not,” she answered before George could debate the dessert options. It had taken him over twenty minutes to decide on the original meal. The sooner this experience was over, the better. “Thanks, Connie.”
She wasn’t surprised when George lifted his knife to check his hair in the blade’s reflection. He finger-combed a few locks and reached into his pocket.
“You won’t mind if we go Dutch, will you?” He tossed her what he probably thought was a charming grin, but it fell far short of the caliber of charm she was used to. He shrugged. “I mean, you understand.”
Gladly, she opened her purse and tugged out enough bills to cover her portion and a generous tip. She was just happy the torture was over. “It was interesting meeting you, George.”
“So I’ve been told.” He apparently took everything as a compliment. He squinted at the bill, stopped to do the math in his head and reached into his pocket for coins. He left exact change and no tip. He stood and as he watched her do the same, he couldn’t quite hide the distaste when his gaze landed on her cane. “Nice meeting you, Eloise.”
She clutched her cane’s grip, waiting to move until he was safely away from her. From the moment he’d spotted her cane leaning against the window sill, the date had come to a screeching halt. He had only been going through the motions, which she was thankful for because she was definitely not interested in him. But still, it hurt. She wished it didn’t, but it did. She was twenty-four years old and she felt pa
ssed over and no longer attractive.
Fine, that was vain. The Bible was full of warnings against vanity. But she wanted to feel young and whole and womanly, as she had before the accident, just like any other female her age.
“Whew, dodged a bullet with that one.” Connie returned with a pot of coffee in hand. “I saw how pained you looked, so I thought I would give you an out. He looked bored, too.”
“Of me, yes, but not when it came to himself,” she quipped. Poor George. She hoped he was able to live out his ten-year plan. Everyone deserved a good future. She moved her cane forward and took a step. “Thanks, Connie. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“Anytime.” Connie went on her way with coffee pot in hand.
“Eloise!” A familiar baritone rang warmly across the diner. Sean studied her over the top of a soda glass. It was hard to say what he might be thinking. His dark blue eyes watched her speculatively as she turned away from the front door and ambled down the aisle. His forehead furrowed. “That date looked painful.”
“Yes, thanks for noticing.” She stopped at their table, feeling awkward. “Hi, Mr. Granger.”
“Hi, Eloise. Haven’t seen you around the ranch lately.” Frank set his soda glass on the table. “I’m surprised you and Cheyenne aren’t out riding. The weather’s good for it.”
“We have plans later in the week.” Another perk about living here again. Horseback rides on lazy summer afternoons had been some of the best parts of her childhood. “I guess that means I’ll see you around, Sean.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right after that experience.” He broke off a piece of bread from the basket on the table and swiped butter over it. “It looked as if he wasn’t being very nice to you.”
“It was a blind date. I wasn’t what he was expecting.” She shrugged it off. George might not be her idea of a catch, but surely the Lord had made someone just for him. Somewhere there was a woman who cut her steak in precise cubes and chewed exactly twenty-two times and prayed for her soul mate. Eloise liked to think they would find each other. “I can only imagine what my grandmother told his grandmother about me.”
“A lot of good things,” Sean insisted.
“Only the good things,” she corrected. “Gran left out everything else, especially the cane.”
“Any man who doesn’t like your pretty pink cane isn’t worthy of you.” He spoke up like the friend he had become.
“That’s nice. Thanks.” Sweetness filled her, which had to be gratitude of the highest magnitude and not any other emotion—like interest. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“Wedding stuff. Mrs. G. was whisked away to help view the wedding dress, leaving Uncle Frank and me to fend for ourselves.”
“You poor men. Don’t either of you know how to cook?”
“Sure, but we didn’t want to.” He popped a bite of bread into his mouth. His stomach growled, betraying exactly how hungry he was. It would have been expedient to have tossed something on the barbecue. “This way, no dishes. We’re smarter than we look.”
“So I see.” Mirth drew up the corner of her mouth and put little lights into her green irises.
Not that he ought to be noticing. Not that his chest should be tight and achy over seeing her on that date. When the other guy had walked off and left her standing there, relief had hit him in the gut. For a moment he had to wonder if he cared for her more than he wanted to admit, but that couldn’t be possible, could it? Ever since his heart was broken, he’d become a lone wolf. A man who needed no one. What he felt for Eloise couldn’t be rebound feelings or romantic glimmers or anything like that.
He cleared his throat and washed the bread down with a few gulps of root beer. “Did you want to sit and keep us company?”
“I’d like to, but I can’t. My grandmother is expecting me.” As if on cue, an electronic tune chimed deep in her bag. She took a step back. “That would be her. She’ll want to know how things went with George.”
“Will she set you up on another blind date?”
“Heaven knows she will keep at it.” Nothing could hide the love she held for her grandmother, and it was an amazing sight. “Bye!”
“Bye.” Sean cleared his throat, doing his best not to watch her walk away. If he had the slightest hook of a grin on his face, his uncle would be sure to notice. More talk of a rebound romance was the last thing he wanted. A man needed his privacy. The door whooshed shut and she was in plain sight through the glass as she ambled to her car.
“Bacon double cheeseburger.” The waitress slid the plate on the table in front of him. “And your usual, Frank. I piled on the onion rings. I know how you like them.”
“Thank you kindly, Connie.” Frank said something else, but the words were lost to Sean as he watched Eloise open her car door.
The wind played with her hair, tossing it across her face. She moved with the grace of a dancer and she shone with the quiet beauty the Bible spoke about. His chest cinched tight, making it hard to breathe. Frank couldn’t be right, could he? These feelings he had for her weren’t romantic, were they? Was he on the rebound?
No. Sean dismissed the idea and bowed his head as his uncle said the blessing.
Low rays of sunshine slanted through the orchard of fruit trees and onto the rows of the garden patch. New green sprouts speared through the earth to unfurl their stems and leaves. Eloise, changed out of her work clothes and into something more practical for chores, stabbed her cane into the soft grass as she crossed her grandmother’s back lawn.
“There’s my sweet pea.” Edie Tipple looked up from her weeding. A welcoming smile wreathed her face. “I already got a call from Madge. She said her grandson thought you were real nice.”
“He had many good qualities, too.” Eloise eased down across from her grandmother. “I’m still not looking to get involved, Gran.”
“I mean to change your mind. You never know when the right man will come along.” Trouble glinted in her grandmother’s green eyes. She tugged at the brim of her hat to keep the sun out of her face. She looked adorable in her pink checkered blouse and pink pants. “I figure on helping you find that right man.”
“A woman doesn’t need a husband to be happy.” As if they hadn’t had this conversation before, she plucked at a budding dandelion in the feathery fronds of new carrots, careful not to disturb the growing vegetables. “Look at me. Happy.”
“Yes, so I see.” Gran didn’t sound convinced. “You work all day and spend your evening helping an old lady weed her garden.”
“You aren’t old to me, Gran, and I like hanging with you, just like I used to when I was little.” She plucked a tiny thistle sprout, taking care not to rip the tender roots as she pulled. “Remember when I practically lived here?”
“You, your older sister and I baked every afternoon. Cookies and brownies and pies. Your brothers would eat everything we made.” Gran laughed at the good memories they’d shared.
This awesome evening was another great blessing in her life. Time spent with Gran listening to the wind whistle through the grasses and feeling the sunshine on her back made her troubles seem far away. “You don’t have to set me up anymore, Gran. I can find my own man when I’m ready.”
“I can’t seem to help myself.” She inched down the row and hunkered over the new section of carrots. Weeds were helpless against her practiced assault. “I can see you didn’t fall in love with George. I was hoping he was the one.”
“Sadly, no. Not even close.” She pulled a buttercup blossom from the feathery greens. The delicate bold yellow petals reminded her of being a little girl running through the fields that would turn yellow with them this time of year. She tucked it behind her ear. “I know that look, Gran. You have someone else in mind.”
“I have a backup, it’s true. I had you meet the best one first, but this one has prospects, too.” Gran glowed with happiness as she worked, considering the possibilities. “His grandmother promises he’s a nice boy. He make
s up with lots of good traits for what he lacks in other areas.”
“Oh, boy.” Not again. Eloise laughed. “I don’t want to go on another blind date. They’re too painful.”
“What you need, my girl, is more practice.” Gran patted the earth where she’d extracted a particularly long-rooted dandelion. “It’s not fair what happened to you. The accident. Spending all that time in a wheelchair—”
“I don’t like to think about that time and what I lost,” she interrupted. She could only take so much. The year she’d spent as a paraplegic had been the most difficult of her life. “I got through it, but it’s over now. I’m looking forward.”
“That’s wise, dear.” Gran swiped her brow and left a faint trace of dust on her forehead. “It was hard rebuilding your life. I watched you do it. You had to leave so much behind. The skating you loved, the man you loved, everything.”
“I’m all right.” She swallowed hard, refusing to break the cage of denial she’d trapped all her feelings in. “That’s what matters. Please don’t set me up on another date.”
“Too late. I know what’s best for you.” Gran, as endearing as could be, reached across the row and patted Eloise’s hand.
All her life she’d looked up to her grandmother, ran shouting with joy up the front steps to be swept into Gran’s hug. The little girl she’d been still could not say no. Gran seemed so big to her, more special than anything on earth.
“I hope you have next Wednesday available.” Silver curls fluttered in the wind as she bent over her work. “If not, clear your calendar so you can meet Craig.”
“I’m afraid to ask what he does.” Eloise pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and shook it out.
“He’s a technician at one of those oil-changing places. Now before you think the worst, he’s in line for a promotion.”
Memories of George flitted into her mind as she gently brushed away the smudge of dirt on her grandmother’s forehead. “Goody.”