by Liz Isaacson
“I am.” He kissed her again, this time closer to her ear.
She twisted off the heat under the grits and turned in his arms to properly kiss him. She felt something new in his touch, and she poured the same passion and emotion into hers.
“Navy,” he said, his voice hoarse and husky.
“Yeah?”
“Nothing.” He backed up a step.
She knew it wasn’t nothing, but Gavin seemed ultra-interested in the grits, so she said, “Let’s eat,” and transferred the pot to the kitchen counter where the Bolognese already waited. She lifted the lid on the Dutch oven, and Gavin groaned.
“I think you should buy the bed and breakfast,” he said. “You could actually run it.”
Navy smiled and dished herself dinner, her thoughts suddenly running wild. She’d never wanted to own a business, especially not something that required so much cleaning and cooking and care.
But she needed to find a reason to stay in Three Rivers. Stay with Gavin. And this town was lovely and charming, but it only had one hospital. One emergency clinic. Two doctor’s offices, and that was it. Navy had spent the morning checking into all the staffing needs at each place, because the thought of leaving Three Rivers without Gavin made her heart shrivel.
The following evening, she met Gavin at the bottom of his grandparents’ stairs. “I couldn’t wait,” she explained. “Don’t be mad.”
He finished tucking his hair under his hat and ran his hand along his beard. “I’m not mad.”
“Nervous?”
“A little.”
“They’re the ones who want you to buy the ranch.”
“I looked at it again last night after I left your place.” He opened the driver’s side door and helped her up. “And again this morning. And again just now.”
She trilled out a quick little laugh. “That’s normal.”
“Is it?” He got behind the wheel and started the truck. “Doesn’t feel normal.” He turned up the volume on the radio, and Navy let him disappear inside his head. She’d learned over the past few months that sometimes Gavin just needed to be. No conversation. No advice.
The drive to Dripping Springs Ranch took them straight across the panhandle, and Navy admired the landscape as they left Three Rivers in their rear-view mirror. “That sign said something about the Tri State Fair.”
“Yeah.” Gavin flexed his fingers on the wheel but didn’t continue the conversation. “It’s in Amarillo in September.”
You won’t be here in September, Navy thought, frowning. Yes, she would. She wasn’t supposed to be back to work until November first. Her thoughts turned poisonous, worsening with every passing mile.
She tried to fight against the doomsday nature of her thoughts, but she couldn’t win. The fact remained that she didn’t live in Three Rivers. She wasn’t engaged to Gavin. And she would be leaving in only three months.
So what’s the point? she thought. You can’t hurt him the way those other women did. The very idea made her chest collapse onto her lungs. She couldn’t breathe as he turned down a smaller, grittier road and said, “We’re almost there.”
Almost there echoed in her mind. Was she “almost there” with him? Or had she been holding back because she knew she wasn’t a permanent part of Three Rivers, of Gavin’s life, of anything?
He turned right and then left, easing the truck onto a road that led west for a mile or two. “There it is.”
The sign hanging in the field along the highway said, “Dripping Springs Ranch,” and it seemed to fit exactly what Navy had envisioned for Gavin. They went down the dirt road to the homestead, which seemed to spread across the land, welcoming all who came that way.
“This looks nice.” Gavin swallowed before getting out of the truck. So distracted was he, that he didn’t turn back and offer his hand to Navy. She slid out of the truck and hovered a half-step behind him.
“It sure does.” She inserted a false note of brightness into her voice so he wouldn’t know she’d spent the last hour of their drive with doubts assaulting her.
A sharp dressed woman came out of the house, wearing a dark pantsuit. Navy thought she must be roasting under all the black fabric. A man followed her wearing blue jeans, a gray polo, and a white cowboy hat. Two dogs came with him, one on each side. “You must be Gavin.” He shook Gavin’s hand. “I’m Jake. Welcome to Dripping Springs Ranch.” He flicked his eyes to Navy.
“This is my girlfriend,” Gavin said, reaching for Navy’s hand, which she willingly gave him. He squeezed it a bit too tight, an indication of his nerves. “Navy.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jake shook her hand too, and then exhaled as he glanced at the woman.
“This is our ranch real estate agent, Stephanie. She’ll be givin’ you the royal tour.”
Stephanie smiled and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She shook Gavin’s hand and then Navy’s. “Do you want Jake to come along? He might be able to answer more questions than I can.”
“Sure,” Gavin said, already scrutinizing the barn to his right.
Navy determined to keep quiet and keep her eyes open. Jake explained how the operation had been running, and Gavin asked questions about auctions, vaccinations, who was already on staff. He sounded very professional, very much like he’d run a cattle ranch before, which of course, he had. Navy basked in the sound of his voice, the way he conducted himself so well.
Stephanie led the tour inside the barns and the stable, the cowboy cabins—two of which were occupied by real, working cowboys. She explained when air conditioners had been replaced, and when carpet had been cleaned. They took a four-wheeler out to the fields, but Navy never did see a cow.
“They’re out in the pastures,” Jake explained. “We don’t round ‘em up until oh, November or so. Sometimes later.”
Stephanie led them into the house, and it was clear a feminine hand had been taking care of the place. It smelled like lemons and antiseptic; classic art hung on the walls; big red flowers sat in the middle of the dining room table.
“My mother died,” Jake explained once they’d gone through the expansive homestead. Navy had counted six bedrooms, and that seemed a little excessive to her.
“That’s why we’re selling.” Jake glanced at a family photo above the TV. “Dad doesn’t want to live here without her, and with his bad hip, he can’t get as much done as he used to anyway.”
“You don’t want the ranch?” Gavin asked.
“I have my own,” Jake said. “Five miles or so down the road. Butts right up against this property on the west.”
Gavin nodded, his lips pressed into a tight line. Navy hadn’t been able to get a read on him during the tour. She’d noticed how his gaze swept everything, took in each detail of each space. But he wore a mask so tight that she wondered if his head hurt from holding it in place.
“We’re askin’ one-point-seven million,” Stephanie said. “Do you have an agent?”
“No, ma’am,” Gavin said.
“It’s no problem.” She gave him a winning smile and retrieved a packet from the kitchen counter. “Here’s everything we just went over. It’s a big piece of property, with a lot of moving parts. I’m sure you’ll want some time to consider everything.”
Gavin took the glossy white folder. “Yeah, definitely.”
“My card’s inside.” Stephanie started toward the exit. “So please let me know if you have any questions.” She gestured them out of the house, and they left Jake and his two dogs behind.
Gavin headed toward the truck, but turned back. “Can I just…can I walk out to the end of the road again?”
Stephanie nodded and waved for him to go on. “Sure thing.”
“Gavin?” Navy asked as he focused his attention along the road that went in front of the barns, the stable, the chicken coops.
“I just need to think.” He released her hand, and she let him go down the lane alone. He made strong, sure steps, and he never looked back.
Navy wrapped her ar
ms around herself though it was over a hundred degrees. Because she knew she wasn’t the only one with doubts, and that the drive back to Three Rivers wouldn’t be a silent one.
18
Gavin loved Dripping Springs Ranch. He hadn’t even made it to the end of the path yet when that peace he’d been searching for descended on him. He couldn’t entirely describe it, but he knew he should do what he could to buy the ranch.
The slight breeze made the heat slightly more bearable but not by much. Confusion riddled Gavin’s thoughts so he couldn’t make sense of them.
He tried to think of a prayer, but he’d already uttered everything he needed help with. The Lord knew what was going on with Gavin and Navy; He knew what Gavin wanted, what he needed. He hoped it was Navy, didn’t know what he’d do if she left him the way everyone else had.
Several minutes passed with the scent of dust in his nose and the whisperings of the wind in his ears. He didn’t know what to do about Navy, but he did know he should put in an offer on this ranch.
Navy’s touch as she slipped her arm into his made him look at her. “Hey.”
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Life and stuff.”
She gave him a few more moments of silence. “Us?”
“Definitely us,” he whispered.
Navy kept her eyes forward on the horizon. “Do you think we can make this work?”
“I want to believe we can,” he said with a sigh. “But you live and work in Dallas, and I’m going to buy this ranch.”
“You are?”
He nodded, wishing he could feel something besides defeat at the fact that she was still planning to return to Dallas, that she hadn’t contradicted what he’d said.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
She went with him, but he sensed a Texas-sized storm brewing beneath her surface. Sure enough, they’d barely made it back to the main highway before Navy said, “Gavin, I like you, but—”
“Stop it,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about this today.”
“Well, I do.”
Gavin knew he couldn’t make her stay silent, and that she’d do what she wanted. It was actually one of her best qualities—when it wasn’t in contrast to what he wanted.
He slid her a look out of the corner of his eye. “And there’s a lot more goin’ on here than ‘like,’ Navy.”
“Well, I—” she sputtered.
“For me,” he clarified. “I think I’ve moved on from like, and I guess I’ll just go ahead and ask.”
She squeaked, but he continued anyway with, “What do you think about moving up here? Surely there’s a clinic or a hospital or something who could use a nurse like you.”
She exhaled a shaky laugh. “Oh, that’s a different question than what I was expecting.”
A few seconds passed before Gavin understood. “You thought I was going to ask you to marry me?”
“You just said this was more than like for you.”
“You didn’t say it back. You think I’d go from that to marry me, Navy?” He scoffed. “Not likely. There won’t be any rings until I’m sure you’ll show up at the wedding.”
“I am not Joan,” she snapped, folding her arms.
“I never said you were.”
“You sometimes treat me like I’m all of them. Like because I want you to sing that I’m Debbie. Or because I’m blonde that I’ll stomp on your heart the way Tabitha did.” She moved over on the bench seat, putting inches of physical space between them and miles of emotional distance. “But I’m not any of them, Gavin. And this is never going to work until you realize that.”
“I do realize that,” he said.
“I don’t think you do.”
“You can think what you want.”
“I will.”
The conversation had sunk to a bad place, so Gavin clamped his mouth shut. No need to say anything he’d regret later. Navy wasn’t listening anyway. He kept the speed at ten over the limit, the silence between them charged with emotion.
By the time he pulled into town, he’d relaxed but they still hadn’t said much more than, “Are you hungry?” and “No.”
He pulled into her long driveway and drove to the end. “Navy,” he said.
“The ranch is wonderful,” she said. “I hope you can buy it.” She reached for the door handle.
“Will you at least think about what I asked?”
She finally met his eye, and he saw the same storm of indecision, of desire to do the right thing, of confusion, in her expression that he felt in every bone in his body.
“I’ve already been thinking about it.” She opened the door and slid from the truck. “Call me tomorrow?”
He nodded and she disappeared into her cottage. Gavin watched the closed door for a few extra moments, almost hoping she’d come back out and profess her undying love for him, and say that of course she’d call her boss tomorrow and quit.
His reality was so different from his fantasies. He backed out onto the street and went home alone, the same way he’d been doing for the past forty years.
Gavin couldn’t bring himself to call her the next day. He worked at his desk all day long and sent Navy a few texts during lunchtime. She took her sweet time responding, and when his phone sounded he nearly fell off his chair.
She hadn’t responded to anything he’d said, but had texted Dinner tonight?
He couldn’t help smiling at her invitation. She was always so quick to forgive. Always the one to ask to see him again. He really liked that about her. No, he loved that about her.
Sure, he said. Are you cooking again?
No, I was thinking you could take me to the steakhouse.
He frowned, his thumbs flying as he typed, You don’t like red meat.
She didn’t even address his concern. Simply asked, Pick me up at six-thirty?
Frustration and annoyance sang through him. He didn’t want her going to the steakhouse because she thought it was something he’d like. He didn’t need her babying him because he’d been unlucky in love in the past.
He glanced up from his phone and stumbled as if lightning had struck him. She’d been doing things to please him all this time. Walking over to his grandparents’ house. Going fishing. Texting invitations.
Gavin blinked, trying to decide if her doing nice things for him mattered. Of course it matters! he thought. Do you even know her at all?
He wasn’t sure. And that made him angry.
I have something to tell you, she sent next. Six-thirty?
Six-thirty is fine. He sent the message and drew in a deep breath, his heart hammering now. He kept very still, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off. When it finally did, a sense of dread took its place.
Navy had something to talk to him about? He knew what that meant, had been through enough break-ups to know. His heart felt like he’d put it through a shredder, because he was seriously considering not showing up to take her to dinner. But then you’ll be a coward, he thought.
And Gavin Redd was no coward. If Navy Richards was going to break up with him, she’d have to do it to his face while they ate red meat. He might even get grape soda so she’d know how much she didn’t affect him.
At precisely six-thirty, he pulled into her driveway. Went all the way to the door. Knocked and waited. She took several long seconds to answer, and when she did, she was putting in her earrings. “Hey.” She smiled at him, but didn’t step into him, didn’t kiss him, didn’t giggle and throw herself into his arms the way she had countless times before.
She seemed distracted, distant. She was definitely breaking up with him. When she finally focused on him, he said, “We don’t have to go out.”
Navy tucked her hair and smiled, but it didn’t hold its usual wattage. Didn’t even reach her eyes. “I have some news I want to discuss with you. It requires a huge plate of salad, and everyone in town says the steakhouse has the best salad bar.”
“I forgot about your stress-eating-salad thi
ng.”
She took her hand in his, further confusing him. “I don’t see how that’s possible.” She led him out of the cottage and he helped her into the truck. They arrived at the steakhouse, got a table, and she got her salad bar plate stacked full before saying another word.
She speared a broccoli floret and smeared it around in the ranch dressing. She stuck it in her mouth and chewed, swallowed. “My boss asked me to come back early.”
Gavin had just torn off a piece of a wheat roll, but now his hands froze in midair. “When?”
“She called today. Said three nurses have quit, and she needs me back as soon as possible.”
His throat felt like someone had lit a match and forced him to swallow it. Every rib in his chest cinched. He didn’t want her to leave in three months, and she was going to leave now?
“What should I do?” She stuffed another bite of salad into her mouth.
Gavin put his bread on his plate, his hands trembling the tiniest bit. “I can’t tell you that, Navy.”
Tears formed in her eyes, but she just kept eating. Lettuce, cheese, cauliflower, croutons. He finally reached across the table and gently took her fork from her. A single tear trailed down her face, and she swiped it away.
“I love you,” she said in a voice choked with emotion. “But my gut is telling me to go to Dallas and get back to work.”
Gavin felt like someone had stabbed him with a steak knife. The warm gush of blood rushed through him, out of him, and he couldn’t even enjoy the fact that she’d just told him she loved him.
“My brain says I’m an idiot if I leave you here.” She shook her head. “My gut says go back. My heart can’t say much because it’s sort of in pieces.” Navy met his eye with desperation in hers, almost a wild glint he’d never seen before.
He wanted to lean across the table and say, “Don’t go.”
He wanted to lean across the table and wipe her tears and say, “I love you. Don’t go.”
He wanted to lean across the table, take both of her hands in his and say, “I love you. Don’t go back to Dallas. Let’s get married and live at that ranch we looked at the other night.”