by Liz Isaacson
And hey, he got a free breakfast for jumping off a fence and onto a moving horse. So that was something.
Gavin’s mind didn’t stop turning until he slid onto the bench beside Grandmother the following morning. The sunlight streamed through the stained glass window in front of him, and he closed his eyes against the blue and purple light that bathed this section of the chapel.
And just like that, his mind started up again. He’d barely slept. Barely been able to brew a pot of edible coffee. Barely been able to do more than the involuntary bodily functions.
All because of Navy.
She was like a parasite, taking his systems down fast.
He’d wanted to call Aunt Izzie and ask about her niece. He dismissed that as too obvious, and besides, he enjoyed the weeks and months it took to get to know a woman. At the same time, his brain urged him to go a little faster this time, because Navy wasn’t going to be in town for very long.
Then he’d think, Six months is a long time. She’s been here for three days, and you’ve seen her each of those.
“Can I sit with you?”
He glanced up to see none other than the very woman who’d been plaguing him. Navy batted her dark eyelashes and put that gorgeous smile on her face. Did she know she could charm armies with that smile?
Something told Gavin that no, she didn’t. She probably knew she was pretty, but she had no idea the havoc she was wreaking on his pulse, his stomach, his muscles, his brain, his very life.
“Scoot down, Gavin,” Grandmother said, probably not for the first time judging by the slightly acidic bite in her tone.
Gavin scooted. Gavin started straight ahead. Gavin wanted to bolt, because church was his escape. It was where he came to reset himself for the week. To renew his faith. To reevaluate what he should be doing with his life.
“Glad I made it on time,” Navy said a bit breathlessly. “I couldn’t find anyone who knew for sure if the time was ten or eleven.”
“Pastor Adams changed it to eleven a year ago,” Gavin said woodenly. “Gets more people here if it’s a bit later.” He personally didn’t understand that, but he also rose at the crack of dawn. The dogs needed to be taken out, lawns needed to be mowed before the heat of the day, nails needed to be hammered before housewives grew cranky. And hopefully, if Squire would ever call him, ranch work would need to be done before the heat of the day settled over Texas.
“Now I know.”
The presence of Navy next to him was anything but soothing. She smelled like flowers and soap and something more sensual that Gavin couldn’t name. She wore her nails short and her hair in loose curls around her face and a dress the color of plum skins. With a broad white stripe near the hem, which just reached to her knees.
She was the picture of beauty, and Gavin wanted to slip his hand into hers. He’d touched her before—the bathroom episode played through his mind during the opening hymn. He couldn’t concentrate on anything the preacher said. He thought that if he could just hold Navy’s hand, everything inside him would finally settle.
So he reached over and folded his hand over hers. His fingers slipped between her thumb and fingers, and he simply rested his hand on top of hers.
She startled a little and turned her face to his. All his bravery had been used on getting his hand across the six inches between them, so he couldn’t look at her.
Pastor Adams’s words became audible. With every moment that she didn’t pull her hand away, Gavin’s pulse steadied. After about thirty seconds of the awkward hand position, she turned her hand and their fingers found their way between each other. Naturally. Easily. Like her fingers belonged in the empty spaces between his.
A smile crossed his face against his will. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to hide, and he slid his eyes toward her without moving his head.
She was smiling too.
7
Navy didn’t hear a word the pastor said after Gavin claimed her hand. Oh, no. She spent the next hour obsessing over her choice to accept his fingers into hers.
When they stood to sing the closing hymn, she clasped her hands in front of her and mouthed the words. Gavin next to her belted out the lyrics in a rich baritone that gave away his singing ability.
“You do too sing,” she hissed as they sat down for the closing prayer.
“I can,” he whispered back. “Obviously. But I don’t sing.”
“You mean in public.”
“Shh.”
She bristled. He’d just shushed her. Shushed her! Sure, okay, an elderly woman had just started the prayer, but really?
She leapt to her feet before the final “Amen,” finished and made it to the back of the chapel before most patrons had even stood. She escaped the church with its quaint red brick and charming stained glass window. She’d had no idea if Gavin attended this church or not, but she couldn’t say she was disappointed. Seeing his charcoal-colored cowboy hat had actually made her heart thump in anticipation.
And then he’d held her hand. She wandered over to a large bur oak and leaned against the trunk. At least you know the feelings between you go both ways, she thought. He’d been a mystery since the moment she’d met him, and she smiled. She liked mysterious men.
In Dallas, she told herself firmly. You like mysterious men who live in Dallas.
She twirled the banded silver ring on her thumb. Around and around it went, in time with her spiraling thoughts.
You’re a nurse. You can work anywhere.
But I live in Dallas. My family is there.
You left for six months.
But I like my job in Dallas.
Around and around, until Gavin said, “Hey, there.”
She turned toward him, her panic doubling when she felt something crawling on her arm. She yelped and brushed at the huge black bug.
Gavin stood as still as a statue, his face unchanging.
“What was that?” She examined the ground for the horrible insect.
“You don’t have bugs in Dallas?”
“Of course we do.”
“Maybe you should get back inside and start praying to rid Texas of nasty animals.”
She cocked her head, trying to read his mind. Of course she couldn’t, but she did deduce that he really liked teasing her.
“Earth would be improved without snakes,” she said, playing along with him. “I don’t know what the Good Lord was thinking by putting them here with us.”
But if there were no snakes, would her horse have spooked? Would Gavin have saved her? Maybe snakes weren’t as bad as she’d originally thought.
Gavin’s tough guy façade broke, and he grinned at her. “Navy.” He ducked his head, and she found his shyness adorable. When he looked at her again, redness resided in his cheeks, and she liked that too.
“Do you want to come to the bark park with me and my dogs?”
“When?”
“Right now. I mean, this afternoon.” He shrugged, exhaled, and glanced away. “I’m forty years old. You think I’d be better at this.”
You’re more suited to a mature man.
Nancy-the-Matchmaker’s words appeared in her mind. “You’re forty?” she asked.
He stroked his beard. “My gray hair didn’t give it away?”
She shook her head as a thrill the size of a yacht went through her. “My dad went gray when he was about thirty.”
“Hmm.” Gavin extended his hand toward her and said, “Want me to drive?”
“I don’t actually own a car,” she said. “Well, I do. But I left it in Dallas.”
“Let me guess. You took the bus up here.”
“It’s part of the legend.”
“I’m aware.”
Navy let her feelings radiate with a bit of hurt for a few steps. “You do realize I’m not whoever broke your heart, right?”
His cowboy boots stuttered against the concrete. “I never said—”
“You didn’t need to.” Navy gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “S
ure, I’m blonde, and yes, I rode into town on a bus. Maybe I even believe what your grandmother told me. Doesn’t mean I’m going to hurt you.”
“Women like you have.”
“You barely know me.” She started to withdraw her hand from his, but he gripped the ends of her fingers.
“I know,” he said. “I’m…sorry.”
That was all. Nothing more. No excuses. No further explanations either. Just an apology. While Navy would’ve appreciated another installment of his obviously bumpy past, she appreciated the simplicity of how he communicated.
“So there are three dogs,” he said as he opened the passenger door for her. “Blue is a yellow Lab.”
Navy giggled and tucked her skirt under her legs. “How did that happen?”
“I adopted him from the pet shelter, and the first day I brought him home, he dipped himself in some blue paint I was using for a sign.”
“Cute.”
He closed the door and walked around the front of the truck. As he went, his lips moved, like he was muttering instructions to himself. Navy couldn’t help laughing, couldn’t help the rush of warmth that poured through her, couldn’t help but think that maybe she had come to Three Rivers to find a groom.
Forty-five minutes later, she’d changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top the color of lemons. He’d put on a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt with a bull on the front and the words “Eight second loser.” He’d left the cowboy boots somewhere in his house and traded them for a pair of flip flops.
He’d disappeared around the side of the house and three dogs had preceded him back to the front yard, where she waited in the truck. She grinned at the happy look on the yellow Lab’s face.
A giant black dog followed him, and a shorter, blonde pug after that. Gavin pointed to the truck and barked a command she couldn’t hear. All three dogs obeyed, and the truck vibrated and rumbled as they jumped in the bed.
“What kind is that black one?” she asked when he got in.
“A Newfoundland. My granddad loves them.”
“He’s huge.”
“He’ll last about five minutes at the bark park,” Gavin said, setting a backpack between them on the bench seat. “But I brought treats and water, and he’ll just lay in the shade until Blue wears himself out.”
Navy had never been to a dog park, and she worried the amethyst on her middle fingers.
“You wear a lot of rings,” he said.
She glanced at her hands, where she wore a ring on every finger on her left hand and three on her right hand. “I suppose I do.”
“Do they mean something?”
“This one does,” she said, admiring the amethyst. “I bought it for myself after my boyfriend proposed to my sister.”
The beat of silence that followed screamed through the cab. “Wow,” Gavin said. “I think that’s—well, you’ve got me beat.”
Navy laughed, though the sound did still carry a few notes of disappointment. Maybe hurt. Maybe embarrassment. She wasn’t sure.
“I thought he was going to propose to me. He took me to this fancy restaurant downtown.” She did a half an eye roll. “Okay, semi-fancy. I thought that was it. We’d been dating for just over a year. Instead of breaking out a ring, he broke up with me. Told me he was in love with my little sister, Lexie.” She exhaled, realizing her chest hadn’t collapsed once. She hadn’t felt like crying while speaking. “They were married six months later, and they have a baby now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Most days I think I’m over it.” The first clip of uncertainty cut through her. “Then sometimes I feel like the whole situation is so unfair. So I don’t know.”
“Life is unfair,” he murmured. “Just like Pastor Adams was saying today. It’s not fair, but through Jesus Christ, we can be assured that we will get our reward.”
Navy nodded and gave him a close-mouthed smile, as she hadn’t actually heard the pastor say that.
“I want to buy my own ranch,” Gavin said. “That’s one of my unfulfilled dreams.”
“So you’re not a carpenter?”
“I am, I guess.” He pulled into the parking lot but didn’t kill the engine. “It’s what I do right now to get by. But I’m a cowboy, through and through. I worked at Sterling Springs Ranch before they converted to a wedding venue. I was the foreman at the B&B before they nearly went bankrupt. I have a degree in ranch management. I’m hoping to get a job at Three Rivers real soon, and I want a ranch of my own.”
“Cattle ranch?”
“Yeah. Acres and acres of land. And cows. And chickens.” His expression grew distant, and Navy envisioned him on a ranch, running it, riding a horse with the wind trying to steal his hat. It was a beautiful picture and fit him like a glove.
“You’ll get your ranch,” she said with confidence. She lifted her chin and smiled. “Now, let’s go see these dogs in action.” She got out of the truck and met Gavin at the tailgate. All three dogs sat, waiting for him to give them the command to get out.
“There’s one ball,” he said, pulling it from the backpack. Blue’s tail went whap! whap! whap! against the metal. “Blue, let Misfit get it sometimes, okay?”
“Misfit?” Navy laughed. “Which one of you is Misfit?”
“The pug.”
“Oh, you’re not a misfit.” She spoke in a cooing voice she usually reserved for newborns and scratched the dog’s ears.
“There’s a Great Dane here,” Gavin continued. “Miles, no…funny business. I will leash you.” He backed up a step but put his hand up, palm toward the dogs. “Ready? All right. Go.”
The dogs leapt from the truck as a unit and tore past a few cars to the green space. Blue barked once and sprinted like he’d been caged for days.
“Jeez, Gavin. Do you ever let them out?”
“They roam the yard,” he said. “They just act like they never get any exercise.” He joined the dogs on the grass and threw the ball. Blue and Misfit tore after it, but Miles didn’t seem to notice or care. He sniffed another dog half his size, his tail wagging wagging wagging.
Navy watched Gavin throw the ball over and over for Blue. Misfit never did get it, and eventually she gave up. Miles had flopped within five minutes, as Gavin had predicted. But Navy enjoyed the sun on her bare arms and legs. Loved the country breeze against her face. Admitted that she really liked the company she was with.
Gavin asked, “Hey, you wanna go to Tampa this weekend? They have a pretty great Hodgepodge Market my grandmother likes to visit.”
Navy had noticed Gavin always called his grandma “grandmother.” She wondered about that as well, wondered when Gavin would open up to her beyond that he’d been hurt by a blonde woman in the past.
“What’s a hodgepodge market?”
“It’s row after row of booths. Homemade items. Antiques. Refurbished stuff. They have it twice a year, and it’s fun.”
“You like to go?”
“I like that Grandmother buys lunch and entertains me with stories on the way.” He shrugged with a smile. “I figured you might like it too.”
Navy would. But she also wanted to know what this was. A date? A Saturday outing with his grandmother? Was she a tagalong? Or had he invited her purposefully?
She wasn’t brave enough to ask. But she did like spending time with Gavin, so it wasn’t too terribly hard to say, “Sure. Pampa this weekend.”
8
Though Gavin wanted to rush the several blocks south and then east to Navy’s cottage at first light on Monday morning, he didn’t. He puttered around the house with a cup of coffee in one hand and a pen jotting notes for her home improvement in the other.
Then he went next door to see what Grandmother had prepared for breakfast. She didn’t cook a full breakfast every morning, but on Mondays she usually did because she always had leftovers from Sunday dinner. And they’d had steak last night.
So Gavin was hoping for some steak and eggs that morning. He wasn’t disappointed, and he pressed
a kiss to his grandmother’s forehead when she looked up from the pan where the delicious smell of meat and cheese and eggs emanated. “Morning, Grandmother.”
“Hey, sweetheart. Will you go check on your granddad? He’s not up yet, and that’s a little strange.”
“Sure thing.” Gavin moved through the kitchen and down the hall. Granddad hadn’t been getting up as early as he used to for about a year. The strength in his dominant hand had worsened considerably, and he’d confided in Gavin that most of his fingers usually tingled as his carpel tunnel syndrome affected him.
Granddad had been a master cabinet maker. Gavin had learned all his woodworking skills from him, something for which he felt a wash of gratitude.
“Granddad?” Gavin eased open the door with two fingers and peeked inside. The bed was empty, but Gavin couldn’t see anyone anywhere. He went back down the hall, even sticking his head into the bathroom to make sure his granddad wasn’t in there.
“He’s not there,” Gavin said, his concern starting to rise.
“What?” Grandmother didn’t look up from the eggs.
“Granddad’s not in bed,” Gavin said slowly, warning in every syllable.
That got Grandmother’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s not in bed. He’s not in the bathroom either.” He glanced over his shoulder, past the table and chairs to the vacant living room. “I don’t know where he is.”
Grandmother put down her wooden spoon. “He must be outside with the dogs.” But the tone of her voice suggested her own worry.
“I’ll find him.” Gavin pushed down his hat and exited the house from the same door where he’d entered. He scanned the road in front of the house. No traffic. No people. Nothing.
“Blue!” Gavin called, adding a hearty whistle to his call. The dog barked, the sound distant and behind the house. Gavin turned that way, hoping Blue would lead the pack and Granddad would bring up the rear.
His stomach growled as all three dogs came into view. “Let’s go!” he called, waiting until little Misfit arrived, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. “Where’s Granddad?” He looked across the green expanse. Couldn’t see anyone.