by Kayla Perrin
He waited on the sidelines until the song ended. When she spotted him waving she came over, laughing, and out of breath.
“You must think I’m losing my marbles.”
“Nah. I think you’re the coolest grandmother ever. Want to stay and dance some more?”
“Actually, I’d love to put my feet up. How about we go home and play some cribbage?”
*
It was nine o’clock by the time Blake and his grandmother were settled and ready to play cribbage. He’d inhaled four leftover pancakes topped with sliced bananas and smothered with maple syrup, while he waited for the water to boil for his grandma’s willow bark tea. Being in Grams’ kitchen always made him hungry. Besides he hadn’t eaten at the barbecue. He snorted. What a fiasco.
When the tea was ready, he brought it out to Grams who was resting her feet on a cushioned footstool. He studied her face as he set the cup down on the small table beside her. Same kind eyes and smile as always—only now they sagged with fatigue. “We could always play tomorrow if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t you want payback for all those times I made you play when you were out late partying with your friends?”
He chuckled. “That was a smart strategy you had, Grams. I’m sure it must have been just as difficult for you to stay up late to play those games as it was for me.”
“You’re right about that. But I needed you to know that you had someone at home who cared about you.”
“And you succeeded.” Blake swallowed hard. His Grams was something else. She could have nagged and complained, set lots of rules and limits. Instead, she’d opted to stay up late and play board games with him. To be there. To listen and to love.
“It’s my turn to be here for you. I wish you’d let me take you to the Mayo Clinic. Or buy you a house. Or take you on a trip to Europe. You’ve got to let me do something for you.”
“Cut the cards, honey.” She waited while he did so, and when she cut a smaller card, she took the deck, shuffled, and dealt out the hands.
As they played the first round Blake wondered if she was just going to ignore what he’d said.
He didn’t challenge her, though. He just gave himself to the game, the way he had so many times before. There was something soothing about the tactile shuffling of the cards, the moving of the pegs, the calling of scores, back and forth.
They were in the home stretch, when his grandmother suddenly covered his hand with hers.
“This is how you help me.”
He studied her eyes, trying to understand what she was getting at.
“You. Me. The crib board. I’m a simple woman, and a simple life makes me happy.”
He thought about her reminder earlier. It’s not the things in your life. It’s the people. “You’re many things Grams. Simple isn’t one of them. But I think I get what you’re telling me.”
She nodded. “My doctor says I have a good chance to beat this cancer. And I trust her. But if it doesn’t work out that way, I’ll be okay with that. I’ve had a good life.”
“Even with Mom’s accident—you still think that?”
“Every life has tragedies and blessings. Your mother’s death was a tragedy for both of us. Being able to raise you—that was my blessing.”
He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “So, no regrets?”
His grandmother turned over the cribbage board, then pointed out three initials carved onto the bottom: W. S. N.
In all the years they’d played cribbage with this board, he’d never noticed them before. “Someone’s initials?”
“The man who made this board for me. He was a special friend.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Oh, he was out of the picture long before you were born.”
“Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head to one side, frowned, then said, “Actually, no. Sometimes we keep secrets long past their expiration dates, just out of habit.”
“And this man—he was your secret?”
“Yes.” She paused to look him straight in the eyes. “And he was also your grandfather. Your mother’s father.”
“Wow.” Blake sat back in his chair. He hadn’t expected anything this major.
“Maybe I should have told you sooner. But I was ashamed. I met Walt Nesbitt at my first job working in a restaurant in Black Diamond. He was a trucker and drove by regularly. He was also married.”
Blake couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Yes, I’m human, too. And I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. Walt didn’t try to seduce me. He wasn’t that sort of man. But we loved talking to each other, and a few times our conversations lasted after my shift was over. We’d go walking by the river. Then he’d drive me home. Eventually we did more than talk but when I found out I was pregnant, I broke it off.”
“Did he know about the baby?”
“I guess I should have told him. But I didn’t. He had two children with his wife. I didn’t want to force him to choose.”
“Where is he now Grams? Is he still alive?”
“I have no idea.” She sighed. “It was so long ago honey, we haven’t been in touch for over forty years.” She got up to rinse out her tea cup. “One of the reasons I decided to tell you the truth tonight is so you can see how easy it is to lose your chance for love. I speak from experience when I tell you once a door is closed, it’s not so easy to open it again.”
Chapter 10
Monday morning Shelby scrambled to unlock the door to Twigs & Sprigs, already twenty minutes late. She wasn’t the only tardy one, though. Half the ‘Closed’ signs on Main Street still hadn’t been flipped over. Sheep River Days doldrums would keep business slow for at least a few days, probably the entire week.
She turned on the lights and flicked on the overhead fan. Today would be the perfect time to upload photos of the arrangements they’d made for Sheep River Days to the website. Catch up on her invoicing. Record last week’s payments.
Instead, she stood at the front window and gazed out at the street. The warm August sunshine threw long morning shadows over the sleepy town. Only The Morning Mug showed any spark of activity—neon light glowing yellow, a mother with her baby in a stroller shouldering her way in the main door.
Shelby held her arms close to her chest and sighed. Coffee. Maybe that would help.
First she checked on the inventory. How ironic that their flowers were as perky and colorful as ever, when she felt so droopy and wilted.
In the back room she put on a small pot of coffee, since she would be the only one in the shop today.
When it was ready, she took a sip, then wrinkled her nose. Ugh. Too strong. She must have messed up and overloaded the grounds. Not surprising considering she’d had maybe three hours of sleep last night. She poured some of the coffee down the sink and added a teaspoon of sugar and milk. That should help.
Shelby caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the sink, and was amazed at how normal she appeared. How odd that she could look exactly the same on the outside when she felt like an entirely different person inside.
She’d gone six years without Blake Timber in her life, and had managed to feel quite happy and satisfied. Now, after seeing him the past few days, her world had somehow fallen apart.
It didn’t make sense. But there it was. She’d just have to power through this day, and the next, keep on going until her life regained its usual shine.
Suspecting she wouldn’t get even one customer before noon, Shelby settled behind the computer in the back room with a stack of invoices that needed to be processed. She had only managed a few entries, when the front door bell jingled.
Setting the statements aside, she stepped out to the front counter, then froze at the sight of Blake at the door, turning over the “Open” sign.
“What are you doing?”
“Figured you might need a coffee break.”
He handed over a tall cup from The Morning Mug. “Double latte. Skinny,
extra foam. Hope that works for you.”
She inhaled the delicious aroma wafting out of the small opening on the lid. Heavenly.
“I shouldn’t be closing shop. I only opened thirty minutes ago.”
“I know. I was waiting for you. Figured you might not open on the nose this morning, so I didn’t order our coffees until I saw your truck.”
She stared at him, afraid to ask why he was making such a big effort to see her.
“Is yours a latte, too?” she asked, just to fill the silence.
“Darlin’ real cowboys drink their coffee black. End of story.”
He smiled, and her heart felt like it was melting and breaking all at the same time.
“I thought you’d have left town by now.”
“That was the plan. But the plan’s changed.”
“Is this about your grandmother? Is she okay?” Shelby made a mental note to call Louise later. “I was worried she was taking on too much, attending the parade and both days of the rodeo, as well as the wind-up barbecue.”
“Grams is fine,” he reassured her. “In fact, you should have seen her dancing last night. She looked ten years younger.”
“Sorry I missed that.” She glanced away, thinking about the way her night had ended and wishing it could have been different.
“Kayla said Ty Harding drove you home … ”
He actually sounded annoyed. She had half a mind to stretch the truth, but she was too exhausted to make the effort. “He offered. But I had my truck and I hadn’t been drinking. So— ”
She’d driven herself home. Spent half the night ruminating over everything that had happened that weekend. And the rest of the time crying. In between all that fun activity she had managed a few hours of sleep. But all of this, of course, she wouldn’t admit to Blake.
“Kayla had me convinced you and Ty were, well, you know.”
Shelby shrugged. “Why would you care either way?”
“If there’s one message I’ve been trying to get across this weekend, it’s that I do care.”
Something was different about him today, but she couldn’t identify what it was, exactly. He still had that same gorgeous face with the square jaw, dimpled chin. And he was wearing the same hat and boots, dressed in his signature True Grit jeans, and a fresh Western-styled shirt.
The change, she realized, was in his eyes. She studied him intently, trying to find words for what she saw. The best she could come up with was that he looked like a man who’d been let in on a secret.
“I know you care about your grandmother.”
“I do. And I’ve finally figured out that what she needs isn’t a second medical opinion, or a nice new house. It’s time with her family—which happens to be me.”
This was good. “Louise would be so happy if you visited more often.”
“Well, I won’t be visiting. I’ve decided to move back to Sheep River.”
Was he serious? “But the rodeo circuit …”
“I’m going to cut back on that. In a few years I’ll be done completely.”
“But—why?” He loved the rodeo. And he was just starting to find the success he deserved. At only twenty-five, his best years were ahead of him. “Did you get injured?” He hadn’t let on that he’d been hurt, but cowboys were good at dealing with pain.
“Never been fitter. But the thing is Shel, I don’t love rodeo per se. I love horses. And while it is a rush to win an event, I don’t care for the spotlight. This weekend has sure taught me that much.”
“But—if you quit, what will you do?”
“I’ve found myself a job, right here in Sheep River, as foreman for your neighbor.”
“You mean Brent McCrumb?”
“Yup. I spoke to Brent and his wife Aida on Friday at the dance hall, then again last night at the barbecue. He’s looking to retire soon. His wife wants them to spend winters down in Phoenix with her sister. We’re going to work out a deal where I can buy the ranch over time—the way Grams tells me you’re planning to do with Twigs & Sprigs.”
“Now that you mention it, Dad did say he wasn’t sure Brent would want to rent our land again next year.” Shelby put a hand on the counter. She had the oddest feeling, as if the floor beneath her feet was no longer level.
She took a sip of the latte, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon. Then she narrowed her eyes at Blake. “What does Kelli-Jo think about you moving back to Sheep River?”
He winced. “I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ve had enough of that woman this weekend.”
Shelby’s heart lifted, the hope that had never quite died, was rising up again. “The two of you seemed thick as thieves.”
“That’s not true.” He shook his head as if to emphasize his statement. “I had obligations. And I wanted to keep my sponsors happy too. But none of that matters to me anymore.”
Shelby took a second to process that. She realized she needed more. Complete honesty. “What about the special effort you took with Sam? Not just at the rodeo, but last night at the barbecue?”
“Not sure I know what you mean. I just helped him with the Mutton Busting ‘cause his father wasn’t there and I felt sorry for him. I grew up without a dad in my life. So I know how it sucks when everyone else’s dad is helping their kid and you don’t have one.”
His kindness was one of the things she liked best about Blake. But his answer sidestepped the real issue. “Something Kelli-Jo said to me yesterday made me suspect Sam’s father might not be Harvey at all.”
Blake fell back a step. “Are you serious? What did she say?”
“I can’t remember exactly. She said something about being in a predicament when she agreed to marry Harvey. And then she said the situation between the three of you was complicated. It just made me wonder … if you could be Sam’s father.”
Blake’s mouth dropped open. For a long time he just stared at her. Then he shook his head. “No. It’s not possible.”
“Are you certain? Kelli-Jo married Harvey pretty quickly after you left town. And Sam was born about nine months after our high school graduation.”
“I’m not arguing about the timing. I’m just saying it couldn’t have been me.”
“I don’t see how you can be so positive.”
“That’s easy. Kelli-Jo and I never had sex.”
Shelby’s jaw dropped. But—you were hot and heavy in high school. I used to see you two making out in Kelli-Jo’s car after school let out.
“But that was all we did. It never went any further.” Blake took his hat off his head and set it on the counter. Then he gave her a sheepish smile.
“I was an insecure kid. I couldn’t believe a pretty, popular girl like Kelli-Jo would want simple old me. I enjoyed having all the guys admiring me, and wishing they could be the one she wanted. But I was over my head with that girl. And whenever she tried pushing the envelope, I always backed off.”
Shelby realized then that she was guilty of stereotyping Blake. Of assuming he would sleep with a woman, just because she was beautiful and she wanted him.
But this—what he was saying—fit so much better with the man she knew.
“I wish somebody had kicked me in the ass back then, Shel. If I’d been more confident and not as worried about impressing other people, I would have been able to spend my time with the girl I really liked. The one I actually longed to kiss—but never dared to.”
Shelby searched his eyes, amazed that her feet were still on the ground when she felt as if she should be floating on air.
But then she reminded herself that he’d said these sorts of things to her before.
“You’re doing it again, cowboy. And it isn’t fair.”
“I’ve never fed you a line in my life. I’m not that clever.” He stepped around the counter, and took her hands.
“I’m not the wild cowboy the press has made me out to be. I’m not a monk, either. But I’m honest with the women I’ve been involved with. And in the past six months I’ve been with no one. Because
I started thinking about you again. Wondering if I might get a second chance this weekend.”
When his thumb brushed gently under her eye, she realized she’d started crying.
In her heart, she’d always felt she knew the true Blake Timber.
And in her heart, she’d always felt he belonged to her.
He kissed her then, a real kiss, one that made her entire body come alive, as if it had been waiting forever for this moment, and this guy.
Desperately, she clung to him, amazed at all the heat and desire that one kiss could bring.
“Smart move, closing the shop,” she managed to say to him.
“Hell, yes, darlin’.”
*
Twigs & Sprigs did not re-open that Monday. The coffee pot was forgotten, and the bottom of the carafe was burned beyond repair.
Shelby and Blake didn’t finish the beverages he’d bought for them at The Morning Mug.
What did happen was that they drove to the Rocky Knoll and made love in Shelby’s four-poster bed.
Then they put together a picnic lunch, saddled up Nancy Drew and a pretty Bay named Climbing Myrtle—because she had a penchant for sneaking out of paddocks—and went for a trail ride in the foothills.
At a hollow by an unnamed creek, where the grass was soft and green, and Mt. Burke rose up in splendor to the west, they stopped and spread out a picnic blanket.
Golden butterflies and dazzling blue dragonflies danced around them.
Shelby wanted nothing but to feel his touch again, to smell his body, to taste his kisses. They made love in the sunshine, and afterward, lingered in one another’s arms.
“I love you Shelby Turner,” Blake whispered while tracing a path down the center of her back, making her quiver. “I almost bought that story Kayla told me about you and Ty Holding. I was going to leave town without telling you how I felt. Thankfully, Grams convinced me to be more persistent.”
“I love you, too. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”
“Not even on the best Christmas morning of your life?” he teased.
“Not even.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her back, his skin against hers. Life couldn’t get more perfect that this.