Returning for Love: A Western Romance Novel (Long Valley Book 4)

by Erin Wright

  Except thinking about Declan was all she did while at ISU and then afterwards, when she got the job at Portneuf Medical Center.

  A knock on the front door startled her out of her thoughts, and when she jumped, Milk took off like a bolt for the bedroom.

  Fine. I can face Declan all by myself. I’m a big girl.

  She heaved herself to her feet and grabbed her favorite walking stick, a piece of hand-carved polished hickory wood. Her parents had bought it for her when they brought her home from the hospital, and she just loved it. It was bad enough that she had to have assistance while walking; she didn’t want to have to walk with an orthopedic cane. The black canes with four little feet sprouting out of the bottom? Those were for the birds. Or people over the age of 85.

  She got to the front door and pulled it open to reveal Declan, bearing…

  “Ohhh!” she squealed happily when she spotted the chocolate cheesecake in his hands. Her favorite. “Where did you get it?” She went to take it from him but realized that balancing the large cheesecake and her walking stick all at the same time would be tough. Declan seemed to understand her hesitancy and just carried it inside for her, and over to the kitchen counter.

  “The Muffin Man. Have you been there yet since you got home?”

  “No, but I heard that the Dyer’s grandson recently took over when they retired. I also heard that he’s—”

  She stopped herself just in the nick of time. She was not going to discuss how cute the new baker was with Declan of all people.

  “As cute as his food is delicious?” Declan finished with a twinkle in his eye.

  “It’s possible I heard something like that,” Iris said primly, as if she hadn’t heard how drool-worthy Gage Dyer was from about 15 women down at the grocery store. Sure, they could all stand around and talk about the baker being cute, but they couldn’t be bothered to tell Declan that his ex was a cripple?

  There were days she didn’t understand this town. About 365 of them a year.

  “You ready?” he said with a gallant smile as he held his arm out for her. She slipped her arm through his and with the help of her walking stick, made it out the door and up the two steps to the driveway, and into the warm autumn afternoon. It was fall in the Goldfork Mountains, which meant that it could be 9 or 90 degrees on any given day. Today, the weather was blessedly warm, which she was sure the music festival coordinators appreciated.

  They made it over to Declan’s truck, bigger and newer than the beat-up beast he’d driven in high school. She bit her lip as she looked at the passenger side door. Even with a step up, the front seat just seemed so damn far up there. She took a deep breath for courage and scrambled up and in, swallowing her cry of joy that she hadn’t fallen on her head in the process. Declan didn’t notice her hesitation, which she counted as a win. Every time she could hide her fears or her worries or her disabilities from others, she’d won a small victory.

  She would take all the small victories she could get.

  “Is it Old Time Fiddlers again this year?” she asked as soon as Declan had made it around to the driver’s side and had settled in. The diesel engine roared to life, and Declan let it settle down before he answered.

  “Yup. And a couple of local acts that are starting to make it regionally. I think they’re trying to raise funds to travel to Nashville.”

  Someone who is chasing their dreams. Who can chase their dreams. Iris bit back her envy and reminded herself that she’d had her chance, too. Hers was just cut a little short, was all.

  She should ask him right now, and just get it over with. But as she turned to study his profile as he drove, she realized that she didn’t want to ruin their date this early in. She’d wait until the end of the date, and then ask him. No reason to make the whole afternoon awful, right?

  She absolutely, positively was not ignoring a huge problem that needed to be dealt with. She was simply…postponing the discussion.

  There was a big difference.

  They fell into an easy chit-chat as they made the 30-minute drive to Franklin, laughing about pranks they’d pulled on their hated high school English teacher. There were only two English teachers at Sawyer High School. One was beloved by all, and one was…not.

  Somehow, they’d both been stuck with the “not” all four years.

  “At some point, you have to wonder if our parents were paying the administration to stick us in with her, because they thought we needed to learn a lesson or something from it – that it ‘builds character,’” Iris said, laughing. “I mean, what are the chances that we’d get her all four years??”

  Declan looked over and grinned. “Or maybe our parents weren’t paying a bribe to the superintendent, and the other parents were! Remember all of those ditto sheets she made us do?”

  “High school English, and we were filling out multiple-choice quizzes and coloring in puzzles to reveal a hidden picture. Who ever thought that they’d hide a drawing of Shakespeare in one of those puzzles?”

  Declan shook his head, smiling slightly. “I don’t think any teacher in the history of teachers deserved to retire more than her. I didn’t learn a damn thing about English from her class, except to hate English.” A small grimace crossed his face and then quickly passed, his smile firmly back in place. Iris wondered for a moment if she’d actually seen what she thought she had, or if it was just a trick of her mind.

  “It’s amazing she hung in there until she hit her 60s, isn’t it?” she said after a moment. “I was afraid she’d be one of those teachers who was still around in her 80s, but I think the principal took her aside and heavily encouraged her to retire. I kinda wonder if she isn’t the reason that I fell in love with science and the medical world like I did. At least in biology, no one made me color Shakespeare’s head.”

  “Biology…” Declan repeated with a half-grimace, half-grin.

  “Yeah! Okay, mister, it’s been years. You can tell me the truth now. Did you or did you not release all of those frogs into Mrs. Westingsmith’s room?” she demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

  He suddenly became very interested in the road ahead. They were almost to Franklin and traffic from the music festival was clogging the highway. They slowed to a crawl.

  “Ummmm…uhhh…” he stuttered. “I…uhh…”

  “You did!!!!” she crowed. “I knew it! Your innocent face isn’t so innocent. Every time you plaster that ‘I’m an angel’ look on your face, I’m damn sure you’ve been the devil instead! You have everyone else fooled, but not me.”

  “Well, not my dad either.” He grimaced. “I never thought I’d walk again after he heard about the frog incident. He paddled my ass good that night.”

  “Hey, I liked Mrs. Westingsmith! If you were going to unleash a ton of frogs into someone’s room, why not our English teacher?”

  “Because I didn’t have a test in her class.”

  Iris let out a howl of laughter. “How on earth did you graduate from high school?” she asked, wiping her tears away.

  “No clue,” Declan said cheerfully. “Actually, I think the principal wanted me out of his hair. He started calling me Moses.”

  “Moses?” Somehow, Iris had missed this. Or she’d forgotten in the ensuing years.

  “Yeah, for bringing a plague of frogs down upon the school. I don’t think he let Mrs. Westingsmith keep that many frogs in the terrarium after that. I heard through the grapevine that he told her it was too much temptation to high schoolers. He mighta been right about that.”

  She shook her head in mock disapproval. “The next time someone tries to tell me all about how sweet and kind you are, I’m gonna tell them about the Moses story,” she warned him.

  He threw her a triumphant look. “Eh, no one will ever believe you. I’ve got this whole town fooled.”

  She let out another round of laughter. “Oh heavens, I should secretly tape you and show it to all the little old ladies in town. Otherwise, they’ll think I’m lying.”

  He wagg
led his eyebrows at her. “I just have to bat my eyes at them and they’ll forgive me for anything.”

  She rolled her eyes, smiling. “You know, you’re probably right.” He had more charm in his little toe than ten other guys did combined together.

  Something he was well aware of.

  They pulled into a large gravel parking lot, and after he came around and helped her down, they began to move their way across it, towards the discordant sound of musical instruments warming up. Declan had slung a jean quilt over his shoulder, which she assumed was for them to sit on. Always thoughtful; that was Declan.

  And strong. Holy cow, she’d forgotten how muscular he was. Or maybe, he’d bulked up since high school. She didn’t remember this many muscles rippling under his skin back then. He’d started to gain muscle their first two years in college together, but nothing like this. She wondered if he bench-pressed combines every morning before breakfast.

  She snuck a glance up at him through her eyelashes to check to see if he was embarrassed to be out with a cripple. Did he care that she was using a walking stick, and he had to hold on to her other arm? He didn’t seem to be; he was looking around, tipping his hat as they went past women, smiling at everyone. He must’ve sensed her looking at him because he glanced down at her and grinned.

  She blushed.

  Dammit, I always get caught when I sneak peeks. You, Iris, are no Nancy Drew.

  They found a small tree casting a little shade and he spread out the blanket for her to sit on. He helped her lower down to the ground and tuck her legs up underneath her, and then after a promise to be right back, he took off for the food trucks. She watched him in action; tipping his hat, smiling, picking up a dropped dollar bill and handing it back to the little girl who’d lost it…

  She wondered for a moment if Mrs. Miller was looking down at her middle son and seeing what an amazing man he’d grown up to be. She sure hoped so; she was sure Mrs. Miller would be proud of how he’d turned out. Iris had been dating Declan for a little over four years when she’d died. Car wreck. Declan changed after that, and it wasn’t much longer before he suddenly decided that farming was more important than her.

  Something I’m going to pin him down about tonight.

  She debated asking him when he came back with their food, before the Old Time Fiddlers really got started, but decided to wait until after the concert. She could ask him on the way home. That way, they could talk privately, without worrying about anyone overhearing them. Plus, then she wasn’t ruining the concert.

  That was the smart thing to do. Totally not cowardly at all.

  He made his way back bearing all of the junk food she absolutely should not be eating…yet absolutely adored. He had an elephant’s ear in one hand and two turkey legs in another, along with a giant Icee.

  She grinned up at him when he paused at the edge of their blanket. “Want some help with that?” she asked eagerly, holding her hands up for the elephant ear. He passed it down to her with a teasing wink, and then settled onto the blanket next to her. She pulled off a piece of the warm, fried bread, thick with cinnamon and sugar on top, and popped it into her mouth, chewing ecstatically.

  He watched her, his eyes growing dark as he smiled at her. “I can see you love fry bread as much as you did in high school,” he said with a laugh tinged with…lust?

  Surely not. She walked with a cane and tripped over the smallest things. Sometimes, she wondered if she was tripping over air molecules. She wasn’t someone who would inspire lust, especially not in a man like Declan Miller. He was just…

  Huh.

  She wasn’t quite sure what he was staring like that for, actually. She sent him a quizzical smile and his face instantly brightened, and whatever that was, was gone.

  Thankfully, the warming up of the fiddles came to a sudden end, and an older woman was getting up on the small platform to face the waiting audience. She thanked them all for coming, and then started the group off with a flourish.

  As the group began to play classics mixed in with newer tunes, the audience began clapping along, whooping and hollering. After one particularly impressive solo in The Devil Went Down to Georgia, the whole audience was yelling and screaming like they were at a rock concert. Iris turned to Declan and they grinned at each other, the excitement and fun almost palpable in the air.

  Why is Declan here with me?

  The thought came out of nowhere, and Iris paused, the music and the crowd around her fading away.

  I’m not the woman he fell in love with so many years ago. Why did he ask me out? Why are we here?

  She had no answer, and that scared her more than anything.

  Chapter 9

  Declan

  The band finished The Devil Went Down to Georgia and the crowd went wild. Declan whooped and hollered along with the best of them, and turned to smile at Iris. That was one of her favorite songs in high school. She must be…

  Off in her own little world?

  She was staring off into the distance in some sort of trance, not paying the least bit of attention to anyone or anything around her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her and she jumped slightly, turning to him with a huge smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Oh, absolutely,” she said over the din. “Isn’t this concert great?”

  “It is.” But before he could say anything more, the Old Time Fiddlers started into Oh! Susanna and the crowd was clapping along again, singing the lyrics at the top of their lungs. This time, Iris’ smile did reach her eyes as she began clapping and bellowing too. He couldn’t help grinning back, and decided to push down his worry. Whatever it was that she’d been thinking about, she’d moved on.

  Like he should be doing. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to be around Iris. They’d spent the last two years of high school and the first two years of college together – they’d pretty much gotten along like two peas in a pod. She was friendly and kind and thoughtful, and he found that he could relax and just be himself around her, not something he could say about everyone, and certainly not what he could say about the blind dates that Abby and Jennifer had set him up on in the last month.

  Didn’t they realize that he couldn’t date someone?

  Not even Iris.

  Especially not Iris.

  The Old Time Fiddlers swapped out for a local act, The Boot Stompers, and the hours faded away. By time the music ended, their pile of fair food had been demolished, leaving only a burnt corner of the fry bread and some watery syrup at the bottom of the Icee cup. Declan threw their trash away and then helped Iris to her feet.

  The crowd surged around them, all stampeding toward the parking lot, but Declan realized that he wasn’t in any hurry. Normally, he was one of those men standing towards the back of the crowd, close to the exit, ready to bolt as soon as an event was done, so he could hightail it out before the masses descended upon the parking lot.

  But with Iris on his arm, life was suddenly a lot slower.

  And strangely, he didn’t seem to mind one bit. He rather enjoyed how she was hugging his arm, snuggling it up against her. He always loved helping others, but once Stetson found Jennifer and Wyatt fell in love with Abby, he’d been at loose ends. His brothers didn’t need him like they had before. He was happy for them, of course, truly happy, but being able to take care of someone again warmed up a part of him he hadn’t even realized was unhappy.

  He snuck a sideways glance at Iris as they strolled through the grass. She was the same as ever, and yet, indefinably different. A few more wrinkles around her eyes, longer red hair…she was a woman now, not a girl.

  He’d thought since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her back in junior high – when he first started looking at girls that way, instead of as annoying humans who squealed and cried a lot – that she was quite possibly the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. It’d taken him until their sophomore year to ask her to tutor him; until their junior year to ask her out on a date.

  Nev
er once did he change his mind on the topic of her beauty – not then, not now. When he’d switched colleges halfway through his bachelor’s degree and had moved up to northern Idaho, he’d tried to forget her. He’d asked out every blonde and brunette he could find.

  None of them were Iris McLain.

  The crowds were almost gone by the time they got to his truck. He helped her inside, and then hurried around to his side. They headed back towards Sawyer, Garth Brooks singing about thunder as they cut along through the gathering darkness. It’d been a damn amazing day and Declan admitted to himself that he didn’t want it to end. This was supposed to be a one-and-done. A pity date. It’d turned into…

  Well, not that.

  “I—” they both said at the same time, and then started laughing.

  “You go first,” Declan said.

  “No, it’s okay. What were you going to say?” Iris responded.

  “Just that…” He blew out a breath as he drove, thinking about how he wanted to say this. “I had so much fun tonight, Iris, I really did. Next weekend, what would you think about going to Copperton with me? They’ve fixed the washed-out bridge and the old steam engine is running again. We could take a train ride and eat dinner. You’ve been gone to Pocatello for so long, you might’ve forgotten what it’s like over here in western Idaho. A train ride through the scenery might be a lot of fun.”

  Anything was fun around Iris, but a train ride seemed especially fun. It was a damn creative idea if he did say so himself.

  She turned and studied him in the lights of the dashboard for a moment. And then another moment. The silence got longer and he started to second-guess himself. Maybe Iris hadn’t felt that same spark he had. Maybe she didn’t want to be around him. Maybe she—

  “I’d enjoy that,” she said softly.

  Oh.

  Good.