by Erin Wright
“I’d enjoy that,” she said softly.
Oh.
Good.
He was surprised at the strength of the happiness that rushed over him at her words. Her saying yes meant a lot to him.
Probably a lot more than it should.
He pushed that thought away.
“Great!” He shot her a grin and she returned it. He turned up the radio and they began bellowing out She thinks my tractor’s sexy! all the way home.
Chapter 10
Iris
Iris rubbed at her eyes. They felt like #10 sandpaper were lining them. Memorizing medical codes was about as much fun as she’d thought it would be.
Which was to say, absolutely no fun at all.
Oreo was busy giving Milk a bath in her ear, loudly and persistently. “You two are so noisy,” she groaned. Oreo paused for a moment, looking at her inquisitively, and then began the bathing again. Milk just ignored her completely.
She looked down at her jeans and pearl-snap button shirt. After wearing a skirt to the music festival last week, she’d realized that life was already hard enough. She didn’t need to have “Management of skirt” on the list, too. Wranglers wouldn’t blow up around her head, no matter how hard the wind was blowing.
And boy was it blowing today. Last week’s beautiful fall weather had turned last night, and today, it was nothing but browns and golds when she looked out the window. The trees were losing their leaves, and fast. She figured that just meant that the train ride would be even more beautiful.
The train ride. She really needed to confront Declan today. She’d been so set to do it last week, had even started to ask, when he’d been sweet and asked her out on another date. She’d known she should say no. She’d known that she should instead demand answers. But instead, out came a “yes.”
She’d spent the week psyching herself up for this afternoon. She could do it. She would do it. She had to do it.
Whether or not she wanted to do it.
This time, when Declan knocked, she wasn’t as jumpy. She shut the lid to her laptop, grateful that she could stop pretending that she was studying, and pushed herself to her feet. She grabbed her fancy cane – rosewood with a garnet inset – and made her way to the door. She opened it to find…
“Declan!” she exclaimed, half laughing, half scolding. “You can’t keep bringing me presents every time you come over.” She was eagerly holding her hands out for his puzzle, though, the laughter greatly outweighing her scolding. She couldn’t help feeling incredibly special that he remembered her so well.
“It’s cats. I figured you’d love that.” He looked past her and towards the couch, where Oreo and Milk had paused in their bathing and were watching them with great interest. “Speaking of, it looks like you’ve got cats already. What are their names?”
She tucked the adorable 500-piece puzzle under her arm and followed him towards the cats snuggled up. “Milk and Oreo,” she said proudly. She put the box down on the coffee table so she could snuggle them. “This is Oreo,” she said, picking him up.
“Hmmm…I get the Oreo name, considering the black-and-white fur,” Declan said, taking him and snuggling him up against his chest. Damn, cats look good on him.
Everything looks good on him.
“But how did you pick the name Milk for that one?” he said, gesturing towards the brown tabby on the couch. “Unless that’s milk that’s gone bad…”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “No. I got Oreo first, and when I went to pick out a second cat, I had every intention of choosing a white one so I could name her ‘Milk.’ But, I fell in love with her instead.” She stroked Milk’s head and Milk began purring loudly, closing her eyes in bliss. “She has such a loving personality, I just couldn’t walk away from her. So, I decided to stick with the name ‘Milk’ anyway.”
Declan set Oreo back down on the couch, and he streaked off towards the bedroom. “Rotten milk,” she muttered under her breath, intentionally loud enough for Declan to hear. “That’s my baby you’re talking about there.”
“Hey, you’re the one who named a brown cat ‘Milk.’ You should’ve named her ‘Chocolate Milk.’”
“Too long. I wanted to really be able to holler her name when she was being a shithead.”
He let out a belly laugh as they meandered out into the chilly autumn afternoon. “Fair enough,” he said. “After all, Milk is a cat, and thus is probably going to be a shithead about 90% of the time.”
“It’s like you know cats or something,” she said teasingly, and shot him a grin.
“Just like that,” he said dryly. “Have you been over to Abby and Wyatt’s house yet?”
“No, why?” she asked as he helped her up into the passenger seat of his truck. She made it all the way up and into her seat without falling on her head. Again. Two in a row. She was feeling pretty damn good about that.
“When they moved in together on July 4th, I wasn’t quite sure if both Maggie Mae and Jasmine were going to live through the experience. Apparently, they spent the first month trying to murder each other.”
“Did they get along like cats and dogs?” Iris asked, laughing.
“Just like that,” Declan repeated, deadpan. “Maggie Mae is bigger, of course, but Jasmine is dedicated. She’d lie in wait for Maggie to come around the corner and then spring out at her. Jasmine is devious.”
“I need to go over and meet this cat,” Iris said. “She sounds like my kind of girl.”
Declan shot her a look. “I’m not sure how I feel about my date thinking that ‘devious’ is a positive trait.” The quirk at the corner of his lips gave his true feelings away.
Date…
She hadn’t been Declan’s date since college. It was…
Nice.
Really nice.
“So are they getting along better now?” Iris asked as they headed towards Copperton, the warm air from the vents aimed directly at her. It was cozy in his truck, not a word she’d normally associate with big diesel trucks, but somehow true this afternoon.
There was something about having Declan next to her that made her feel warm and safe and comfortable.
“Yeah. I think Jasmine finally decided that she wasn’t going to be able to drive Maggie away, so as long as Maggie does everything Jasmine wants, she’s fine. She’s finally forgiven Abby, too, for bringing her into a den filled with monsters like one friendly, obedient dog.”
Iris busted out laughing. “Now that sounds like a cat. I really want to meet her now.”
“Speaking of, I’ve been hearing you’re turning into the cat lady. I knew you’ve always loved cats, and of course you have Oreo and Milk, but I overheard two farmers discussing what to do with some stray cats that were showing up on their farms, and one of them said that it didn’t matter; they’d all soon end up at your parent’s place anyway. Are you adopting more than just Oreo and Milk?”
Iris felt her cheeks pinken a little. “No. I know I shouldn’t do this because there’s just no controlling it, but…I’ve started feeding stray cats. I accidentally busted a bag of cat food open about three weeks ago, and I cleaned up most of the mess, but it was nighttime, and I guess I missed more than I realized. Soon, there was a stray cat out there, eating the remnants in the grass. Then the next day, there was another cat. I felt bad because I’d started feeding them so I shouldn’t just take the food away, you know? So then I’m putting out a couple of bowls, and…”
She grimaced. “There are a lot of stray cats in the area. I’m thinking I need to call animal control and find out about having them spayed and neutered. I just hate seeing cats not being taken care of.” She bit her lower lip in consternation.
“Well, I’ll text Michelle Winthrop as soon as we get to Copperton and find out if there are any programs in the area for that. She would be happy to help you out, I know it.”
“Thank you!” Iris grinned at him, feeling happiness spread through her veins at his words. She’d known she couldn’t continue to fe
ed every stray cat in Long Valley County, but she also couldn’t bear to see them go hungry. Some county help would be amazing.
They wound their way through the mountains until they reached Copperton, a little mountain hamlet on the road between Sawyer and Boise. It was nothing more than a wide spot in the road, really, except for the steam engine train rides they offered year-round, plus it had some great river entrances for people wanting to kayak or tube the river.
It was hard to make Sawyer feel like a bustling metropolis, but somehow, Copperton did.
Declan helped her out of the truck and they headed slowly towards the train depot. At least this was a paved parking lot, so she wouldn’t have to worry about trying to make it over gravel without ending in a faceplant.
An employee met them at the door, in an old-fashioned train conductor uniform. “Sir, ma’am,” he said, holding the door open wide for them. “Go on over to the ticket booth to register.” He pointed to a booth set up to look like what Iris imagined a ticket booth would look like in the 1800s – black wrought iron bars, a small opening for the person behind the counter to work through, and wanted posters everywhere.
“Wow, they’ve really worked on this!” Iris breathed. She hadn’t gone on this train ride since they were in elementary school, and they’d gone as a field trip. That had been a lot of fun, but she only vaguely remembered it. Now, as an adult, she could appreciate the work they’d gone through to make everything look and feel authentic.
“Yeah, new ownership about five years ago dumped a bunch of money into it. They’re starting to advertise nationwide, trying to make this a tourist destination across the country.”
“So creative,” Iris said appreciatively. Why not use the history and the beauty of the area to offer specialty experiences like this? Now she wished she’d worn a skirt – a long, billowing one. It could’ve been fun to dress up in 1800s period clothing.
After registering, they were escorted to the waiting train where they climbed aboard. Iris held her breath, afraid she’d misjudge the steps and take a tumble but she made it up the stairs without a problem. She turned left and began heading down the aisle, which is when her foot caught and she went stumbling.
Dammit, dammit, dammit!
Of course. As soon as she stopped worrying about killing herself, that’s when she fell.
But as she was falling to the wooden floor, legs and cane going everywhere, that’s when Declan’s strong arms went around her, catching her. “Oof!” she grunted, the air knocked out of her lungs.
Her first thought was how damn embarrassed she was. Her second thought was how damn strong Declan was.
And how good he smelled.
They froze for just a moment, her back cradled against him, his arms around her, nestled up under her breasts, and she couldn’t breathe and he wasn’t breathing and the world just stopped.
And then started again. He helped her stand upright, straightening her clothing, giving her her cane back. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just the hazards of going on a date with a cripple,” she said, keeping her voice light. “Now, what booth are we in again?”
He glanced down at the rumpled ticket in his hand. “12A,” he said.
She nodded brusquely and began walking again, her cheeks flaming red. Was she always going to stumble and fall in public? Was she always going to be an embarrassment to herself and those around her? If Dec had a lick of sense, he’d never ask her out again. He shouldn’t. All she did was make a fool out of herself.
No reason to make a fool out of him, too.
Chapter 11
Declan
He held her elbow lightly as she slid into place in the booth and then he slid in on the other side, facing her.
Or more accurately, facing the top of her head. She seemed incredibly intent on studying the small dining room table between them. Somehow, he didn’t think that she had suddenly sprouted a new interest in woodwork from the 1800s in the last three minutes.
“You’re not a cripple,” he said softly to the top of her head. He waited, but she didn’t look up, so he finally continued. “You’ve been through a lot. I’m proud of you and all you’ve been able to do since the accident.”
He dearly wanted to ask her for details about the accident, but held back. It was her story to tell. She could tell him when she felt comfortable, and until then, he’d give her the space she clearly seemed to need.
“Thanks,” she said softly and then finally moved her gaze. But instead of meeting his eyes, she started looking out the window instead. It was beautiful scenery out there, for sure – stony mountains, a light dusting of snow already starting to cover the peaks, pine trees, a winding river tumbling over rocks below.
But he was pretty sure she hadn’t sprouted an intense interest in the scenery in the last three minutes, either.
She began blinking rapidly, and he felt panic well up inside of him. She wasn’t crying, right? He really wasn’t sure what to do with a crying Iris. In their four years of dating, even when they were hiking and she fell down the side of a gulley and broke her right leg between their junior and senior year, he’d never seen her cry.
He was quite sure he didn’t want to see it happen now.
A small whistle trilled, jerking their heads up in tandem. “Welcome, welcome aboard!” a conductor said up at the front of the train car. He started into his safety spiel, gesturing towards fire exits in the case of an emergency, but did it with the bored air of someone who’d done it a thousand times before.
“Enjoy the ride!” he finished. “Dinner will be served in about 30 minutes.”
The steam engine whistle blew again and they started down the tracks, slowly at first, and then picking up speed as they went. Declan and Iris grinned at each other, the thrill of being on the train overriding the emotions from their earlier discussion. The murmur of voices from other passengers, the oohhs and aahhs as they went around bends, filled the air.
Yeah, taking her on this ride was such a better idea than just dinner and a movie. Who could think that this “movie” was anything less than completely amazing?
Chapter 12
Iris
He’d taken her hand after dinner, and the thrill that ran up her arm at his touch…
It sent shivers down her spine just remembering.
“Are you cold?” Declan asked, concerned. “I can turn the heat up if you’d like.” They were on their way back to her apartment, winding through the dark, cold valley back to Sawyer.
“No, I’m okay.” She squeezed his hand. It felt amazing, just sitting there, holding his hand, as if he wanted her in his life.
She couldn’t begin to fathom why, but she also couldn’t make herself ask him.
Speaking of things she couldn’t make herself do, she couldn’t make herself ask him why he’d been so hell-bent on breaking up with her all those years ago. After two weeks of telling herself that she was really going to nail him to the wall and make him talk to her, the warmth of the truck, the amazingness of holding his hand…she couldn’t make herself care. At least not enough to break the spell that had been cast over them.
“That train ride was amazing. I’m so glad you thought to do that.” Iris shot him a smile, and he smiled back, slow and easy…and deliciously sexy.
“Me too. I remember going in fourth grade as part of our Idaho History studies, but it’s certainly a lot more special as an adult. Or, they’ve done a lot of work on the train since then.”
“Maybe a little bit of both,” Iris said softly. “Because I don’t remember it being that amazing either.”
What she couldn’t get up the guts to say was that back then, she hadn’t been holding hands with the man she’d loved for pretty much her entire life. Back in fourth grade, Declan Miller was a string-bean boy enthralled with tractors, frogs, and horses, and not necessarily in that order. If someone had told her 10-year-old self that she’d grow up to love Declan Miller, she would’ve laughed
in their faces…and then gone on to challenge Declan to a round of H.O.R.S.E. on the basketball court, just to prove she could whoop his ass in basketball.
But when their sophomore year hit and he asked her to be his tutor in Spanish, she’d fallen head over heels in love almost instantly. It’d taken him a whole year to get up the guts to ask her out, and so she’d spent her sophomore year in a constant state of agony, asking all of her friends if they thought Declan liked her, and if he did, why didn’t he ask her out, and was he flirting with another girl during lunch?
It wasn’t until years later that she’d found out that he’d spent their sophomore year in an agony of nerves too, wanting to ask her out but thinking she was too beautiful for him. She snorted at the thought, jerking her back into the present.
“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked her, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles gently.
“Just how we’d spent our sophomore year liking each other but not having the guts to say so,” she said with an embarrassed blush. “I should’ve been more bold and just told you what I was thinking. I was so shy back then.”
“I never would’ve guessed that. You always seemed so in control, so smart. And watching you out on the court…You were a sight to behold. I figured you had every guy in school panting after you, so why would you want me?”
“Oh, on court I was a beast,” she said, laughing. “No fear there. But off court? Guys were scary, especially guys named Declan Miller. They were the scariest of all.”
He pulled to a stop in front of her apartment, his headlights beaming into her living room windows. Oreo, who’d been up in the window looking out, jumped down out of sight and Iris knew he’d be sitting at the door, waiting for his pettings as soon as she walked in.
“Are you still scared of men named Declan Miller?” he asked softly, turning off the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. He picked up her hand and began kissing the knuckles, then flipped it over and began nibbling on her wrist. She sucked in a deep breath, suddenly unable to think.