by Jillian Hart
Sean burst into laughter. “Next time we’ll have to get some for the horses.”
“I hope that doesn’t give him a stomachache.” Good humor chased away her worries. Life was good as she and Sean headed down the street together.
It was easy being with Eloise. Sean tucked his wallet into his back pocket and handed over the twenty. The vendor looked pleased as punch as she accepted it and began to wrap up the sale.
“The wind chimes are lovely, but it’s too much.” Eloise folded a strand of blond hair behind her ear in a shy gesture that only proved how cute she was.
Cute. He kept using that word for her over and over again. It wasn’t the only word. Awesome came to mind. So did endearing. Beautiful was another that described her in any situation. To think she was self-conscious about her injury. Her limp was invisible, her loveliness outshone it tenfold.
“It will be something to remember today by. Something good, after the rough morning we all had.” The neglected horses stayed at the back of his mind. He knew they were at the back of hers, too. The set of halters and leads she’d bought from one of the other vendors was testimony enough they were not far from her mind. At least the animals were more comfortable now. He accepted the bag from the sales lady and added it to the bundle he carried. “Whenever the wind blows, you can think of me.”
“Because you’re a bunch of hot air?”
“Ha ha.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing. Before he could come up with a snazzy comeback, he heard someone say her name.
“Eloise, is that you?” a fragile voice warbled. A delicate elderly lady padded up to lay her hand on Eloise’s arm. “Where is your cane, sweet pea? How are you getting around?”
“Gran.” Eloise’s jaw dropped. As if mortified, she sputtered for a second unable to think of what to say.
Sure, he knew how it looked with her hand tucked lightly on his forearm and with him carrying all her purchases. He cleared his throat. “I’m squiring her around this afternoon. Mrs. Tipple, we met a long time ago when I was a teenager.”
“I remember. You were trouble, if I recall. Couldn’t stop fidgeting during the candlelight service.” She smiled, a timeless beauty. “You are one of the Granger boys.”
“Guilty. I hope you don’t mind I’ve stolen your granddaughter for the afternoon.”
“Not at all.” She chirped with happiness. “You aren’t married, I take it?”
“No, but I’m not looking to be.” He broke the news gently as Eloise gave her grandmother a hug.
“We’re just friends, Gran, so don’t get any ideas. Promise me?” Unmistakable love made her luminous. “I’m going out to dinner with Craig, but that is the last fix-up. No more.”
“Take pity on her, Mrs. Tipple.” Sean couldn’t resist helping her cause. He liked Eloise. He’d do about anything for her. “I know how she feels. It’s humiliating every time a new date doesn’t work out.”
“Why, I never thought of it that way before.” The older lady furrowed her brow, adorably puzzled. “I can’t think of why that would be.”
“Gran, you found your perfect match on the first try. That’s a great gift few of us are blessed with.” She probably looked a lot like her grandmother did fifty years ago, Sean decided. She had the same willowy build and oval face and eyes shining like flawless emeralds. There was strength, too, the kind that went all the way to the soul.
“I’d best leave you kids to your fun.” A grandmother’s love beamed from her as she gave Eloise one final pat. “Don’t think you have to hurry over tonight. I’ve got all the weeding done except for the tomatoes.”
“Don’t you dare do it without me.” Eloise’s warning held no bite, only sweetness. “See you later.”
Her fingertips settled on his arm as she turned to watch her grandmother join her friends at a nearby booth. He laughed. “I finally have it figured out, chickie.”
“What, exactly?” She sparkled as she leaned lightly on his arm.
“You spend a lot of evenings with your grandmother. You live with your parents.” He heard his phone ring and pulled it out of his pocket. “I’m starting to see the real you.”
“Oh, no. You don’t want to be associated with someone so drab. Or would dull be a better word?”
“You? Dull? That’s impossible.” The experience of holding her on his arm had brought him closer to her than he’d expected, both physically and emotionally. Because she’d left her cane behind he had been near enough to see the twinkle lighting her eyes when she’d spotted the wind chimes for the first time.
Eloise was quietly exhilarating and she was easy to be with. There was no knot of anxiety in his chest. Meryl had always tied him up in knots, leaving him to wonder if he’d done things right or wrong. Being with Eloise was as natural as breathing. He stepped out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. “Is that your phone?”
“Probably. If not, then it’s my guilt calling. I’m having too much fun. I should be on my way to work.” She tugged out her cell and checked it.
“I heard Cady say not to rush back. No guilt necessary.” He liked that about her, though. She was conscientious.
“Cady sent a text. She wants me to stop by the feed store and pick up a few things for the new horses.”
“Let me see.” He leaned close. His cheek brushed hers as he scanned the list. Her skin felt satin soft and he breathed in another hint of honeysuckle. It was nice. He kept using that word, but it was the truth. Being with her was so enjoyable, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
He focused on the list typed across the phone’s little screen. “It’s all easy stuff to tie on the saddles. It’s doable.”
“Definitely.” She didn’t move away.
Neither did he. The breeze danced through her hair, sending a stray wisp against his jaw. “The feed store is across the street from the horses. It couldn’t be an easier errand.”
“True.”
Time stood still. The noise and heat and scents from the nearby hot-dog vendor became background to the slow, drum-like thud of his heart. He leaned in, so close their noses almost bumped. Her soft mouth opened slightly, betraying her surprise. The same surprise tapped like mad through his veins, but he couldn’t seem to jerk away and put proper space between them. All he could see was her. Her big soulful eyes, her incredibly beautiful face, her lips. She was sugar-cookie sweet. He wanted to kiss her tenderly to match the tender adoration filling him.
Adoration? He furrowed his brow. That wasn’t what he wanted to feel. What he wanted was to be unattached, a male wolf prowling the wilderness on his own answering to no one. So why was he inching closer?
Don’t do it, he told himself. Kissing her wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair.
It was all he wanted.
Chapter Eight
“No.” Her slim hand shot out and splayed across his sternum. “Sean, what are you doing?”
He swallowed. Good question. He was obviously being stupid.
Except it didn’t feel stupid. It felt right to care for her. He shrugged. “I’m a man. Do we ever really know what we’re doing?”
The quip worked. The tension taut in her shoulders relaxed a smidgeon. The stress tightening her jaw eased. Confusion continued to cloud her eyes as she stood like an island in the moving stream of the crowd, and he had to make that right. He hated to think he’d hurt her or caused her turmoil of any kind.
“Proof there really is something wrong with men.” Her puzzlement turned to a chuckle.
“True. We’re deeply flawed. Forgive me.”
“I’ll think about it.” She tilted her head to one side, considering him. She held out one hand, since she couldn’t take a decent step without him. “I think you have had too much fun, mister.”
“Guilty. I have a weakness for street fairs. I lose all common sense.” His arm linked with hers, offering her his strength and his friendship as if the moment had never happened. “Let’s stop and get water for the horses before we hit the feed store.”
“It’s a plan.” She pasted on what she hoped was a smile, one that wasn’t too bright and yet neatly hid the knot of confusion and disappointment tangled inside her.
They said nothing more, just little necessary things, as Sean ordered two big cups of water and they took them back to Licorice and Hershey. He tried to hide it, but she noticed the tension bunched along his squarecut jaw and the crinkles etched into the corners of his eyes. The friendship between them was strained. The easy camaraderie vanished. Sean had crossed a line she hadn’t been comfortable with and she didn’t know how to repair it.
He probably hadn’t been thinking, just like he’d said. Maybe he was lonely, too. Maybe for a moment he’d felt less so and that’s why he’d moved in to kiss her. She was convenient, she acknowledged silently as she held the cup for Licorice. Sean couldn’t possibly have actually meant that kiss.
Sadness eked into her, and she gripped the side of the hitching post to balance her weight. Why did that make her so sad? As the horse lipped and slurped, she watched Sean out of the corner of her eye. He stood stoic in front of Hershey, holding the cup of water at an angle.
“If you want to hand me your phone, I’ll run across the street and pick up the stuff.” His words were nearly monotonous with strain as he held out his hand, wide palm up. Apology shadowed his gaze and she looked away.
She fished her phone from her pocket and handed it over. But as he strode away without a word, dependable shoulders straight, gait athletic, an impressive man of good character, she felt her heart tug.
If only her gaze didn’t follow him across the street. When he strode through the door and out of her sight, it was as if the sun dimmed.
Don’t start feeling for him, she warned. No matter what she could not start to wonder what would have happened if they had kissed. She would be foolish to start wanting what she could not have.
Dumb. That’s how he felt, like the biggest doofus in the county. Sean dismounted swiftly as soon as they reached the shadow of the inn’s stables to fetch Eloise’s cane. It was right where she’d left it, propped against the wall in the breezeway outside Licorice’s stall. He seized the handle and hurried back just as she was dismounting.
“Thanks.” She broke the silence, which had haunted them on the ride back.
He didn’t know what to say after nearly kissing her. He couldn’t bring up the subject again because it would only make those unhappy lines etch into her face. He didn’t want that. Mom always said, “Less said, soonest mended,” so he decided to go with the age-old adage, but he remained troubled. He’d hurt their friendship over an almost-kiss she hadn’t wanted.
He had.
Clearly his feelings were bigger than he wanted to admit, even to himself. It was a lonely place to be. Disappointment crept around him like talons, digging deep. He prayed it didn’t show as he took Licorice by the bit.
“I’ll walk them in to Rocco. He’s the one in charge of the horses?”
“Yes. I’ll come with you. I want to see how the new additions are doing.” She kept her gaze on the uneven gravel path ahead of her, as if that required her concentration.
He wasn’t fooled. She did very well with her impaired walk. She didn’t need to put so much concentration into it. She wanted to, and he didn’t blame her.
He’d acted on feelings, not on thought. Maybe Uncle Frank was right. Maybe he was rebounding and he didn’t even mean to be. Rebounding was not his style. He had decided to be a loner. He wanted no connections to any woman. That was the best way to heal from a broken relationship instead of jumping feetfirst into a new one.
Something tugged on his shirtsleeve. Sad-eyed Hershey lifted his horsy eyebrows in a show of sympathy.
“You’re a good guy, Hersh.” He patted the horse’s nose.
The gelding nickered low in his throat, as if in perfect agreement.
“Eloise!” A child’s voice echoed in the rafters above, accompanied by the patter of running feet. Julianna charged around the corner like a cute, purple butterfly. “You gotta come see! I have Dusty’s stall real nice for her. And she just got a bath, and guess what?”
“My, you have been busy while I’ve been gone.” She brightened at the girl’s approach.
He winced. Eloise had said “I” instead of “we.”
“Rocco and Dr. Nate gave her a bath and she’s a palomino! She’s gold with a white mane, just like I wanted.” Julianna’s hand crept into Eloise’s and clung tight. “Do you think she’s the horse I prayed for? I love her so much.”
“So I see.” She gazed down at the child with gentleness.
What he saw on her face blew him away. He leaned against Licorice for support. She would make such a good mom. He had never had a thought like that about a woman. Not even Meryl, whom he’d planned to marry. It was strange how he would see Eloise as a mother, kind and patient and always smiling. He gulped, afraid to guess where this line of thought might take him.
“Sean? Are you all right, boy?” Uncle Frank strolled into sight, dapper in a new T-shirt and jeans as if he were ready for a date with Cady. “You’re lookin’ a mite pale.”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” He glanced around, surprised they weren’t alone. Aside from Julianna and Frank, there were a handful of other people in the aisle tending to the stabled horses. He spotted a couple of wall rings and drew a rein through one of them. “What’s going on here?”
“It’s Friday evening. I came by to pick up Cady for dinner and look at what I found.” Frank was sharp-eyed. He didn’t miss much. Along with the knowing grin was a look of understanding. “I thought I could lend a hand.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Lending a hand, that sounded like as good a reason as any to be here. As long as he didn’t have to admit to the truth. Eloise caught his attention as she followed Julianna through an open stall gate and closed it behind her. The palomino nickered gently and lowered her nose for the girl to pat. The mare closed her eyes, looking mighty glad to have attention.
Sean swallowed hard. Maybe his feelings had been stirred up by coming across this kind of neglect; they had overwhelmed him. Perhaps that’s all his new, tender feelings were toward Eloise. That meant their near-kiss was nothing more serious and neither was his glimpse of Eloise as a future mom. Wouldn’t that be a relief?
“How did the horses ride?” A woman’s voice drew him out of his thoughts.
The horses? He shook his head, realizing Cady was asking about the trip to and from town. He looped another rein through a ring and loosely tied it. “Good. I think Licorice is going to do just fine for you. Hershey might have a hard time adjusting to different riders. Maybe at first, maybe not. I can work with him if you’d like.”
“Yes. Absolutely.” Cady had a serene gentleness about her that made her likeable and a good match for Uncle Frank. “I would pay you.”
“Not necessary.” As if he would accept her money. If she could take in animals in need without complaint of the vet bills it might cost her, he could offer his time to help.
“Then perhaps you would accept goodies from the kitchen now and then.” She strolled up in her designer boots to offer Hershey a hunk of carrot. “After all, you have to keep your strength up.”
“I wouldn’t argue that.” Especially since everything that came out of the restaurant’s kitchen was fantastic. He untied the sack of molasses treats from the back of the saddle and caught sight of Eloise in the stall with Julianna.
The rush of tenderness he’d felt at the street fair when he’d been a fraction away from capturing her lips with his hit him full force. He felt as if caramel were melting in the middle of his chest. It was friendship, that was all. It couldn’t possibly be anything more. From here on out, he wouldn’t let it be.
He hefted the feed bag on one shoulder and grabbed the pack of supplies in his free hand. Every step he took past Eloise, he wanted to look at her. He wanted to grin at her over the top of the stall gate and know what she was thinking by the set of her expressive eye
s. He wished he could see the uptilt of her mouth without remembering what it had been like to almost kiss her.
He let the bag slide down to the floor in the feed room. Tucked out of sight from the breezeway, he didn’t need to look up to know who was coming down the aisle in his direction. He recognized Eloise’s gait and the faint tap of her cane on the concrete. He straightened up, and the melted caramel feeling in his chest increased as she approached.
“Oh, hi.” She appeared startled to see him. “I’m leaving for the day.”
“I guess it’s quitting time already.” He stood as still as stone. Not a muscle quivered. “Are you going back to the festival?”
“Not tonight.” She took a step, hating that the palm of her hand had gone damp against her cane.
“Meeting someone?” He stepped into the aisle to call after her.
“You could say that.” She didn’t turn around. If she did, she would have to face him. “I’m having dinner again.”
“Not another blind date?”
“Yes.” She feared he saw her the way she saw herself—as someone with her best years behind her. Sean clearly was carried away when he’d tried to kiss her, but that didn’t change the situation. Blushing, she took another step, painfully aware of the drag of her leg. Her limp would always be a part of her. She could not wish it away.
“Have a good evening, Sean,” she called over her shoulder and kept going.
“I never thought that boy would leave,” Frank quipped as he poured sparkling water into two crystal glasses.
“I think he’s sweet on Eloise.” Cady leaned forward on the blanket set in the soft green grasses in the shade of the stable to take one of the glasses.
“And then some.” Frank grinned. He was sweet on Cady.
She was elegance in motion. Every little movement she made was graceful as if timed to music as she lifted the glass to her lips and sipped. The wind blew her soft brown hair against the side of her face and she brushed it away with her free hand before he could put down the bottle and do it for her.