by Liz Isaacson
A sense of…rightness descended on him. He wasn’t sure how to classify it. Comfort? Peace?
No, gratitude.
Boone was grateful for the chance he’d had to go to school, earn his degree, and have a career he enjoyed. He checked his watch and wondered what time church started and if he could show up smelling like charcoal and horse.
Love you too, Mom, he texted back and headed up the steps to join his ranch friends. If one of them went to church, Boone would think about going too.
Chapter Four
“Here you go, Mama.” Nicole had never been a mother, but she extended the spoonful of oatmeal toward her mom, who stared straight ahead, just like she would a baby. Her hair needed to be washed, but Nicole didn’t have time before church. She didn’t like being late, and no one would come visit until tomorrow anyway.
Mama opened her mouth and ate the oatmeal Nicole had spiked with honey and brown sugar to get her to eat it easier. “Daddy?” she called over her shoulder.
Her father’s chair creaked in the kitchen and he appeared a few moments later. He pushed his glasses up onto his head, which bore thick, white hair.
“Are you coming to church?”
“Just for a few minutes,” he said. “I don’t like to leave Mama for more than about a half-hour.”
“So we’ll drive separately.” Sometimes her father came, and sometimes he didn’t. Nicole had secretly been hoping to go to church alone today, if only so that if Boone showed up, he wouldn’t see her still attached to her parents.
Not that Boone had ever shown up. And she and him hadn’t exactly been on friendly enough terms to discuss their religious beliefs. Maybe he went to church somewhere else. It wasn’t like the little church she attended was the only one in town, though Pastor Scott was the best.
Nicole liked his youthful sermons, his jovial personality, his way of looking at problems like they were opportunities. So many of his sermons had encouraged her to go for a promotion at the animal clinic, and she’d worked her way from a high school volunteer to the office administrator over the years.
Of course, she’d never been able to turn her family situation into an opportunity, but she had managed to find her own place and move out a few years ago. She finished feeding her mother and washed up in the kitchen with lemon-smelling soap before dropping a kiss on her father’s forehead and saying, “I’ll see you over there.”
Nicole liked to arrive at church early, let the serene atmosphere infuse her soul, listen to the notes of the organ filter out of the open doors and into the air around her. She took a deep, deep breath and felt at home.
She glanced around, her love for her hometown real and large. She’d never wanted to leave Three Rivers, not really. She had wanted to be a veterinarian, but then Mama got sick and Nicole hadn’t been able to leave to go to college. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
She’d thought Dr. Von would train her to be the one who could tend to the cats, dogs, birds, and guinea pigs the residents brought into the clinic. He’d started to teach her about different drugs and how to use the x-ray machines. She’d even administered a few vaccinations before Dr. Von got sick. Then he’d left the clinic, and it looked like the whole thing would have to close if someone didn’t buy it and hire a new veterinarian.
Nicole had wanted to buy Puppy Pawz so badly. No one knew the ins and outs of it better than she did. But she simply didn’t have the money—and she’d wondered if she could handle her aging parents and an animal shelter and hospital at the same time.
In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Boone Carver had shown up, and he’d bought the clinic.
Nicole felt sideswiped. One day she was giving a great Dane his deworming shot and the next tall, handsome, powerful Boone walked through the door with his white lab coat, impressive muscles, and impossible handwriting. She seriously couldn’t even read half of what Boone wrote, and most of the time it wasn’t her fault. Sometimes—one time—she’d been impossible on purpose.
Nicole entered the church and took her seat on the third row in the chapel, leaving a space on the end for her father. The pulpit sat below a beautiful stained glass window depicting the Savior delivering his Sermon on the Mount. She gazed up at it, the sunlight streaming through the multi-colored pieces and throwing light across the stage holding the pulpit.
Nicole smiled, enjoying the music as other patrons started arriving. She closed her eyes and breathed in the peace she felt here. Help me get over Boone’s intrusion, she prayed. She’d never admitted that he hadn’t pranced into town with the sole purpose of ruining her life. It had been easier to dislike him if she believed he’d done exactly that.
Though she hadn’t spent much time with him outside of work, she’d seen enough of a glimpse into the man’s life to know he wasn’t the monster she’d imagined.
And she needed to let go of that image, because he seemed like a guy she’d be interested in getting to know better. No one in town had caught her eye, and she didn’t want to let maybe her only chance slip away because she was too unwilling to forgive.
She half-expected the negative feelings she’d harbored, cultivated, and encouraged for a year to magically dissipate. When they didn’t, she sighed and added, I’ll look for the good in him. Just show it to me, to her prayer.
Daddy slid onto the bench beside her just moments before Pastor Scott got up and began the sermon. Nicole wasn’t sure why, but she turned and scanned the chapel for Boone. She didn’t see him, of course. She hadn’t truly expected to.
Her attention wandered during the sermon, mostly because she was still searching for a way to get the relief she needed. Finally, about the time her father slipped away and back to Mama, Nicole realized she’d have to talk to Boone and…well, talk to Boone. Maybe tell him why she’d been Miss McNasty Pants for a whole year.
He’d already said he’d find out why she didn’t like him. As Nicole mouthed along with the closing song—she never sang in public due to her extreme stage fright—she realized the reason she’d been so cold with him was because she did like him. Her frowns, her folded arms, her complete exasperation with his work were all defenses against liking him.
She shot to her feet with the epiphany and stepped into the aisle, intending to find Boone and talk to him right now. She’d go to his house if she had to.
She slammed into a hard body, and stumbled. “Oh. Sorry.” Pain started in her cheekbone, which had collided with—Boone’s collarbone. “Boone—”
“Hey, you okay?” He reached out and touched her arm, sending a string of sparks down to her fingertips and straight into her chest.
Nicole gasped. Concern crossed Boone’s face. “Did I hurt you? I just saw you sitting down in the front, and I came back to see if you wanted to….” He trailed off when he realized he still had his hand on her arm. He stared at the point of contact and snatched his hand back like her skin had caught fire.
She’d never felt such fireworks before, and she craved the razzle, snazzle, pop of that heat in her bloodstream again. She could barely swallow. And speaking? Not happening at the moment.
Thankfully, Boone seemed as equally mute. His dark eyes searched hers, and she saw so much swimming in their depths—longing, passion, desire.
Nicole almost scoffed. He wasn’t pining after her. Was he? Could he?
She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and did something she’d never done before. “What are you doing for lunch today?” she asked.
An hour later, Nicole had changed from her boring navy church dress into a more summery, flowery sundress. She wore a pair of sandals with thin straps and carried Valcor in a little purse on her elbow.
Boone had agreed to meet her at Riverwalk Park instead of the dog park where they’d met yesterday. There were a dozen picnic tables along the river. They were usually full on Sunday afternoons, but Nicole had been praying for a solid hour that there would be one open, because Boone said his dogs loved to swim.
She rounded a bend in the walking path, hop
ing the picnic table just ahead would be empty. Her heart sank when she found someone sitting there, then rebounded when that person stood and lifted his arm, calling, “Nicole.”
A grin split her face and she tried to tame it before he got close enough to see it. “Boone.” He wore a pair of jeans, a gray T-shirt with a ninja on it, and a black cowboy hat. He’d never worn his hat in the office, but he did go out to Three Rivers Ranch twice a week, and she imagined him out there, rugged, wild, and gorgeous.
“You look nice.” He met her on the lawn and took the picnic basket she carried.
She had no idea how to respond to a compliment from someone like him. No one paid her compliments, and she wasn’t exactly the type of woman who should be getting them anyway.
She missed a step, sure most women who regularly received compliments like “You look nice,” would probably say something like, “So do you,” or “Thank you,” and then duck their head flirtatiously.
Nicole said, “I made ham and Muenster sandwiches,” and cleared her throat. “And there’s some turkey and Swiss too. And I brought grapes, and baby carrots, and lots of dog treats.” She couldn’t get her voice to stop, and Boone tossed her a healthy smile.
“Sounds great.” He set the food on the table and took his position on the bench again. She rounded the table and set Valcor on the end of it farthest from them.
“Should we let the dogs go?”
“After we eat,” he said. “I need to be able to keep my eye on Leia.” He gave her a mischievous look. “She tends to get in trouble off-leash.”
“You should put her on a lead line.”
“I brought one.”
Of course he did, and somehow the fact that the man had thought of everything didn’t annoy her the way it normally would. Fine, maybe it did a little.
He lifted sandwiches out of the basket. “Can I have one of each?”
“How far did you run this morning?”
“I didn’t run this morning,” he said. “I went out to Three Rivers and helped a horse. Breakfast was cold by the time we finished.”
“How much do you usually run on Sundays?”
“Depends on the Sunday,” he said. “Today I should’ve done five miles.”
“I guess you can have two sandwiches then.” She smiled and pulled the baby carrots toward her. “I can’t even imagine walking five miles.”
“I like to run.”
She pulled a ham sandwich toward her. “It’s a different look than the cowboy hat.” She raised her right eyebrow, which elicited a laugh from him.
“I’ve always wished I could do that.” He beamed at her again and flicked his cowboy hat. “This is a relic from my childhood. My family owns a cattle ranch.”
“So you’re a real live cowboy?” Nicole wished this news didn’t accelerate her heartbeat, but it did. She lived in Texas, after all.
He chuckled. “Not for a few years now.”
“You work out at Three Rivers.” She seemed to be doing okay at this flirting thing. “You don’t wear the hat out there?”
He ducked his chin, the cowboy hat coming between them. A chuckle came out of his mouth, and Nicole met his smile with one of her own when their eyes met again.
Electricity flowed back and forth between them, and Nicole liked the sizzle of it. “Do you miss it? The ranch?”
“No,” he said pretty quickly. “I know I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I like working with animals. Besides, I still get to go out to a ranch.” His chuckle this time was nervous and slightly shaky. “Sometimes I get along better with dogs and horses than people.” He looked at her and glanced away quickly.
“I know what you mean,” Nicole muttered, determined to end her not-dating streak. “Is this a date?” she blurted.
Boone stopped chewing, his sandwich frozen halfway to his mouth. He blinked a couple of times, those beautiful eyes drinking up hers. He swallowed. “A date?” he repeated. He set his sandwich down. “Do you want it to be a date?”
Nicole had completely lost her senses, because she found herself nodding.
“Then it’s a date,” he said with a grin, leaning toward her with an edge in his eyes that sent excitement racing through her whole body.
Chapter Five
Boone liked it when Nicole looked at him with that teasing sparkle in her hazel eyes, when she laughed at something he’d said, when she asked questions about his real life. He liked that he’d worn his cowboy hat so he could push it low on his forehead and sneak glances at Nicole and she wouldn’t know he was looking.
He wasn’t sure what had turned her from cold to hot, but he wasn’t sorry about it. Just like he hadn’t been sorry he’d darkened the door of the church where Squire went. He hadn’t arrived in time to catch the pastor’s name, but he’d learned that he was Kelly’s cousin’s husband and that he said really good things.
Nicole finished eating and she packed up the picnic basket while Boone enjoyed the Sabbath Day sunshine. “You want to walk the dogs a bit?” he asked.
“You’re the one with the big dogs.” She picked up the doggie purse which itty bitty Valcor hadn’t attempted to get out of. “But I could walk.” She flashed him one of those sultry smiles he could get used to, and stood up.
He unlooped the leashes from the table bench and picked up the picnic basket. He left it on the edge of the grass next to a bush. “We can get this when we come back.”
Nicole didn’t say anything, just stepped with her dog. Boone’s bare arms soaked up the sunshine and he let Vader and Leia off their leashes. Vader yelped and Leia sprinted for the creek. He laughed as they splashed into the water, their faces so full of joy and wild abandon.
“Does Taz swim?”
“He thinks he can.” She bent and loosed his leash, freeing the little dog. He ran toward the creek but came up short of entering it. He barked at the two dogs swimming away from him. “See?” Nicole laughed and Boone enjoyed the look of happiness on her face. He rarely saw it, and he wanted to be the reason she smiled and laughed like that.
“They’ll keep up.” Boone nodded toward the path and Nicole stepped with him. His fingers flexed and curled, curled and flexed. They itched to touch hers, but literally forty-eight hours ago, he’d left work frustrated with the woman because she’d ignored his perfect paperwork.
Every emotion Boone had ever felt warred inside. He felt sure his brain would explode from all the thinking, the rethinking, the speculating, the circling back. Nicole stepped and he stepped, and their fingers brushed.
Pure adrenaline surged through him and on the next step, he fixed his hand in hers. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to judge her reaction. Her fingers felt a bit stiff in his, but it had been a while since he’d held hands with a woman.
Her dress billowed in the slight breeze, as did her yellow hair that she’d only pinned back on the sides today. She’d had it braided at church, but she’d undone it and it flowed over her shoulders in pretty waves.
“Tell me about your family,” he said. “Brothers? Sisters?”
“Two older brothers and an older sister. They live all over the place. My oldest brother actually practices law in Grand Cayman.”
Boone whistled. “Wow. You ever go visit?”
Nicole shook her head, and her sadness scented the air. “My mother is ill.”
He mentally kicked himself. He’d known that. Joanne had told him in the first couple of weeks he’d come to Three Rivers. He’d just forgotten.
“That’s right. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand. “What does she have?”
“Dementia started a few years ago. I managed to move out before she forgot who I was. I still go over and take care of her and Daddy almost every night.”
Boone wished he had a way to make everything in Nicole’s life okay. But he couldn’t do that. Only God could, and often God didn’t. But one thing his parents had taught him was that God often put the right people in our lives, at the right time, to provide exact
ly what we needed.
Maybe God had allowed Boone to make peace with Nicole because she needed it. Perhaps he needed her.
“She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer last year,” Nicole continued. “She refused treatment, so we’re just….” She swallowed.
“It’s okay,” Boone whispered. He tugged Nicole closer and squeezed her hand. “I have an older brother and a younger sister. Middle child syndrome here.” He kept talking about where he’d grown up, the chores he’d hated, the horses he’d loved, and why he decided to become a veterinarian.
Nicole seemed content to just let him talk, and they made it around the park and back to the picnic basket. “Thanks, Boone,” she said, retrieving her belongings. “I have to go.”
“Oh yeah?” He bent to leash his dogs, glad the sun was so warm and hot today so they were mostly dry after their earlier swim.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I help deliver meals on Sunday evenings for shut-ins.”
Surprise shot through Boone. “You do?”
“Every week.” She met his eye. “I find that I don’t feel so….” She sighed. “I don’t know. I feel better when I’m helping other people.”
Boone had a feeling she knew exactly how she felt and simply didn’t want to say it. And that the service she rendered on Sunday evenings alleviated those feelings. He cocked his head and chose to ignore her evasion. “That’s how I feel about helping animals.”
She grinned at him, and he leaned down and ran his lips across her cheek. “See you Tuesday? Or maybe you’d like to, I don’t know, go to breakfast tomorrow before I head out to the ranch?”
Nicole reached up and touched her cheek where his lips had been. “I eat breakfast,” she said as if she’d never said those words in that order before.
“The pancake house?” he asked. “I can come pick you up if you want.”
“I’ll meet you there.”