Fifteen Minutes of Fame

by Liz Isaacson

  Blue, Gavin’s yellow Lab, nosed his way into the shop, bringing Misfit and Miles with him. The dogs roamed as a pack, Blue their leader, across the three-acre property his grandparents owned. Blue flopped at Gavin’s feet, right on top of several pieces of wood he still needed to fit back together.

  “Go get a drink, lazy bones.” Gavin nudged the dog with his toe, and Blue moved to the corner where fresh water waited. Misfit sniffed Gavin’s boots, the way the pug always did. And Miles, a huge black Newfoundland, stood guard at the door.

  Gavin put the birdhouse back together and stepped away from it to evaluate. It still looked like someone had mashed wet wood together with their bare hands and tried to shape it into something resembling a birdhouse.

  Unwilling to put it back in the front yard for more strangers to comment on, Gavin left it in the shop and decided to go see what Grandmother had made for breakfast.

  He opened his door and plowed right into the blonde from earlier. She yelped and tried to get her feet out from under his, only succeeding in tripping him further. He grabbed onto her arms and managed to keep both of them upright.

  “Whoa,” he said like she was a steed.

  With them both settled and staring at each other, he asked, “What are you doin’ here?” His grandmother had tried to set him up a half-dozen times with her clients before he’d told her he was off the market permanently. He wasn’t really, but for her clients, he most certainly was. If she’d sent this woman over here….

  “Your grandmother—”

  Gavin growled.

  “Let me finish.” The woman cocked her hip and splayed one hand on it. Her pink-painted nails didn’t escape his attention. Neither did her lithe frame and gentle curves. He yanked his eyes back to hers, a flush rising through his body in an uncomfortable way. He hadn’t dated in a couple of years, and he certainly wasn’t interested in another blonde.

  If only his pulse would stop jumping and settle back into his chest.

  “Your grandmother said you’re handy. I told her I was living in this run-down cottage—it’s a shack really, and that’s being generous—and it needs a lot of work. She suggested that you might could do the job.”

  Gavin blocked the inside of the shop with his body. He didn’t want her to see the birdhouse or any other evidence of his handiness. “What kind of work?”

  “Oh, you know.” The woman waved her hand like she was swatting away an annoying fly. “Some painting, and some flooring that isn’t properly adhered. Maybe something with the hot water heater. That kind of stuff.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “In Gerry and Olivia Shepherd’s outbuilding.”

  Gavin’s eyebrows rose. “The Shepherd’s, huh? You’ve done some research on the history of Three Rivers, is that it?”

  She bristled, and Gavin realized a bit too late how arctic his tone had sounded. “Never mind. I’m sure I can find someone else to help me.” She turned to leave, which sent relief and disappointment diving through Gavin at the same time. He couldn’t make sense of how he felt, and it had been a long time since that had happened.

  “I’m not sure I’d want to hire you anyway,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ve seen the houses you make for birds.”

  By the time he’d processed what she’d said, she’d disappeared down the street. He walked to the front lawn and glanced north and then south, where he found her already a good half a block away. The woman could stride, he’d give her that much.

  She also hadn’t missed the fact that he had constructed the birdhouse. Poorly, too.

  Still, he wanted to know her name, and why she’d come to Three Rivers if not to fulfill her silly fantasies. Usually a woman didn’t stay in town long if she’d only come to get her match. But this woman had rented somewhere to live, as if she was planning to stay.

  He glanced back to his grandmother’s matchmaking entrance. She’d tell him everything he wanted to know about the mysterious woman. All he’d have to do is mention that he forgot to get her name and he needed to call her about the cottage at the Shepherd’s.

  He’d taken one step to go ask when he faltered. If he involved Grandmother at all, he’d have to answer questions from now until Christmas. Maybe longer.

  And he didn’t need that drama in his life. He knew almost everyone in town. He could figure things out with a few texts and spare himself the constant badgering. With that decision made, he went back inside to fetch the dogs. They all needed a run before the morning got too hot.

  He pushed open the door and heard a crunch-crunch-crunch sound. “Blue,” he chastised. The dog looked up from a pile of splintered wood that used to be Gavin’s birdhouse. Misfit whined, and Miles hadn’t moved from his position just inside the door. He barked, his warning about Blue way too late.

  Gavin entered the shop and pulled the half-chewed piece of wood from his dog’s mouth. “We don’t eat birdhouses.”

  Blue looked at him with a quizzical expression in his eyes, his ears at attention and his head cocked as if to say, That was a birdhouse?

  3

  You should be looking for an Aquarius.

  The matchmaker’s words rotated through Navy’s mind for the rest of the day. She’d found the perfect patch of shade on the north side of the cottage where a lounge chair had been positioned, seemingly just for her. She’d brought out her phone and her tablet, but she’d barely looked at them.

  You’re a Libra, and very spontaneous and fun. Don’t be so worried about being popular. Don’t worry about having a classy man on your arm.

  Navy had sat in her chair, surprise and shock jolting through her with every word the white-haired woman had said. She’d possessed kind eyes and a calm spirit, but she spoke with the authority of someone who’d made many successful matches over many years.

  Navy had drank in every word, and she’d listened to them again a half a dozen times since then.

  “Enjoy your time here,” her phone’s recorder played back. “Don’t worry too much about the future.”

  There had been a lot of advice dispensed. Near the end of her hour-long appointment, Navy had finally plucked up the courage to ask, “Will I find the right man for me?”

  “Certainly,” Nancy had proclaimed without a moment’s hesitation. “You have a good sense of who you are. What you need now is the confidence to be yourself. Once you do that, the right man will come into your life.”

  Navy paused the recording and leaned her head back. A soft breeze blew across her face as she contemplated Nancy’s words.

  She’d never felt like she wasn’t confident. She knew what she was doing at work. She was an excellent nurse who kept calm in difficult and stressful situations. She could soothe any baby. She knew she had a certain affect on men, what with her light blonde hair and full lips she kept painted a shiny pink.

  Except for Gavin….

  The thought drifted across her mind, unbidden. Why she’d thought of him, she didn’t know. Nancy had spent a few minutes bragging about her grandson when Navy had complimented the yard. She’d also spilled the beans that he’d made the birdhouse Navy had insulted.

  Her earlier embarrassment returned, but she stuffed it away after a moment. The man hadn’t exactly been nice when she’d asked him about his services, and how was she supposed to know he’d built the birdhouse? It literally looked like a five-year-old had done it.

  An image of the cottage flashed through her mind, and Navy thought that even a five-year-old could improve it. She needed to ask the Shepherd’s if they’d mind if she did a few home renovations first anyway, so she let her thoughts of Gavin drift away on the wind.

  Later that night, she pushed through the front doors of The Horseshoe Bar & Grill, having been informed by their website that they served fries by the basketful and offered dancing and live music every night. Being Friday, Navy wanted to get a feel for the night life in this town—and she wasn’t disappointed.

  The music blared from a stage in the back of the rest
aurant, where four men played instruments. Piano, bass, fiddle, and guitar. They all wore jeans with belt buckles the size of dinner plates. Blue and white plaid shirts and white cowboy hats completed the look.

  A sucker for a man playing a guitar, Navy grinned.

  “Just you tonight?” The woman standing in front of her wore short shorts and a red T-shirt that was tied on the side for a reason Navy couldn’t fathom.

  “Just me,” she said, trying to remember the last time she’d gone out by herself. She couldn’t, because Navy never went out by herself. If she wasn’t going to dinner with a date, she got together with a group of nurses. She thrived on the social aspect of things, and though the hostess seated her in a booth by herself, the atmosphere of the bar indicated that she wasn’t really alone.

  She ordered the bottomless fries and three dipping sauces, along with a hefty diet soda, before asking the waitress, a woman named Candy with auburn hair, “Do you live here in Three Rivers?”

  “Yep, born and raised.”

  “So can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “If I needed someone to do some home repairs, who would I hire?”

  Candy grinned. “I thought it was going to be a hard one. But that’s easy. Gavin Redd. He can do everything.” She moved to the next table, and Navy let the words roll around in her head.

  He can do everything. Everything.

  Everything?

  Navy’s thoughts deviated into fantasies before she could turn her attention back to the band. A flush rose through her neck, making her hot and the air conditioner seem defunct. The band had moved on to a slower song, but no one danced in the open area between the tables and the stage. Navy supposed it was a little early for that.

  She’d have to be blind not to notice the way several men orbited her table, but she didn’t make eye contact with any of them. She enjoyed her fries, determined to do exactly as Nancy had suggested and find her confidence before searching for a man.

  Since she wasn’t planning on staying in Three Rivers permanently, there was no reason for her to jump the gun and start looking already. Besides, she needed time to figure out how to ask someone’s birthday before committing to a date with them. Because she was done wasting her time. Once she had all the tools she needed, she planned to hit the dating scene with a vengeance. And that meant only going out with Aquarius’s.

  Just as the country line dance party started, the front doors opened again. They’d been opening and closing for an hour, but Navy hadn’t glanced at them once. Now, though, it seemed like the entire restaurant paused, and Navy’s attention swung to the man who had just walked in.

  Gavin Redd.

  Her heart shot out an extra beat. Then two.

  Was he an Aquarius?

  She shook her head to dislodge the thought. He wasn’t available, that much had been clear from their conversations that morning. In fact, she’d gotten a cold vibe from him both times, and she went back to the last of her food.

  “More fries?” Candy asked, picking up the nearly empty basket.

  “What the heck?” Navy glanced up. “Can I have the sweet potato ones this time?”

  “Sure thing.” She moved away, once again giving Navy a clear sightline to Gavin. He glanced in her direction too, doing a double-take before his gaze truly settled on hers.

  He scowled—actually scowled—before turning back to the cash register with a To-Go sign above it.

  Of course he wouldn’t come in and grace the restaurant with his presence. He probably just doesn’t want to sit alone, Navy told herself as she focused on the band. She wasn’t a mean-spirited person. There was just something about him that riled her.

  And now that she knew she could get her fries to go, she might do the same next time. The song ended, and she clapped along with everyone else. As the band started up again, she glanced back at Gavin.

  He was gone, and her chest pinched a little. In the next moment, she caught sight of him walking toward her. Her heart froze as if someone had dropped it into liquid nitrogen. It struggled against the ice surrounding it, and then burst free, the beat now rapid and intense.

  Especially when he stepped to the end of her table and asked, “Mind if I join you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer before sliding onto the bench across from her. Every eye seemed to follow him, which meant he had a story.

  And Navy really wanted to know what it was.

  So she smiled and though it wasn’t necessary, said, “Sure, have a seat.”

  He smiled too, a quick gesture that barely lasted long enough for her to notice the dimple in his left cheek. But she did, because Navy was trained to notice everything. Every little hiccup. Every sound a newborn made. Every sign of distress from a mother who’d just gone through a difficult labor.

  Gavin opened his Styrofoam container and said, “I love their buffalo sliders here.” He lifted one out and offered it to her.

  Navy normally would’ve passed. She barely knew this man. Scratch that. She didn’t know him at all. “Buffalo?” she said, reaching for the neat little package of food. “Never had it.”

  He pulled the slider back. “You’ve got to tell me your name first.”

  She blinked at him. “Oh.” She giggled and leaned onto her elbows. “It’s Navy Richards.”

  “I’m sure my grandmother told you who I am.”

  “She did, yes.”

  He passed her the slider and took one out for himself. They bit into them together, and the flavor of onion, pickle, and the game meat exploded in her mouth. She moaned and finished off the slider in only one more bite. As she wiped her hands, she nodded. “I see why you like those. Delicious.”

  “What else did Grandmother tell you about me?”

  “Nothing.” Navy watched him for his reaction. “I mentioned that the place I was renting was in disrepair, and she said you’d built that birdhouse—” She muted her voice as his eyes took on that stormy quality again. “Forget it.”

  He glared at her for a solid minute. Long enough for Candy to bring her fries and take her soda glass to be refilled. Candy had just set it on the table and disappeared again when Gavin said, “That was my first attempt at a birdhouse, I’ll have you know.”

  She dipped her sweet potato fry in garlic aioli. “So you must be better with a real house. You know, fixing walls and stuff.”

  “I get by.”

  Navy eyed him, but didn’t stare openly. He ate the rest of his sliders and his regular fries while she enjoyed her second basket of fried food. He did more than “get by.” She’d asked Olivia Shepherd if she could do a few repairs, and Olivia had recommended Gavin. So had Candy, just a few minutes ago. So why had that birdhouse looked like road kill?

  Would her cottage look the same if she asked Gavin to come repair the walls, paint, and maybe do something about that water heater? Maybe she’d be showering in ice the next time she stepped into the tiny stall. Ice and snakes, she thought. Ain’t Texas grand?

  He didn’t offer to come over. Didn’t ask her any questions. Just took up space across from her and ate his food while the band played and the dance floor filled up.

  When he finished, she asked, “Do you dance?”

  A strange look crossed his face—another part of his story—which he closed down quickly. He sighed as he leaned back into the booth. “I used to. Now, these old boots don’t do much dancin’.”

  Navy found his twang adorable and told herself to stop. She’d not used her ticket to Three Rivers to find a groom.

  She had not.

  Even if he was sexy, and could pound an entire container of fries, and could possibly wield a hammer and fix all her problems.

  Well, her physical living condition problems anyway.

  4

  Gavin’s toe bounced to the song The Wheat Stalks played. Yes, he knew the band. Yes, he knew all the members in the band. Yes, he’d danced to their songs before. With another blonde woman.

  He didn’t really want to repeat th
at chapter in his life—because it was like an entire volume. Years, wasted.

  All so Joan Young could meet with his grandmother behind closed doors, deem him unworthy to be her soul mate, and head off for the greener fields of Dallas. He’d never really had a problem with the Bride legend until then.

  He could still feel the heat from her touch as she pressed her palm against his bicep. “We’re not meant to be.”

  The wispy quality of her voice had annoyed him then. Now it made him angry too.

  Meant to be? What did that even mean?

  Gavin had gone out onto the open range that night, almost two years ago. He’d never hated something as much as he had while staring at the stars. And the problem was, he didn’t even know what he hated.

  He’d stopped trying after that. Every giggling girl who came through town wasn’t looking for him. No, they thought Prince Wonderful existed somewhere out there for them, and they had to come to Three Rivers to figure out where. None of them ever thought there might be a man right there, right in front of them, the right one if they’d only give him a chance.

  And Navy Richards was no different.

  At least he knew her name now. But he wasn’t going to dance with her. Even coming over and sitting down had surely alerted the gossips. They’d be the talk of the town for the next week, until something more interesting happened where the locals at the diner or the hair salon could be witnesses.

  Gavin stood, taking his trash with him. “Well, I best be off. Nice to finally know your name, Navy.”

  She slid out of the booth too, like she might leave with him. Pure panic pounded through his bloodstream, and he stared at her until she fell back to the vinyl bench. He nodded once, pressed his cowboy hat further onto his head, and strode out of the restaurant. Alone.

  Just the way he liked it.

  He’d made it to his truck before he admitted he didn’t really want to be alone. He just didn’t want her to walk out with him. Didn’t like being forty and the talk of the town. No, sir. Gavin didn’t need that.