by Melissa Keir
“Hello, Debra,” a voice called out. “It’s great to see you.”
Debra smiled at the beautiful and petite brunette. She hadn’t seen her since the wedding and realized she’d missed their conversations over coffee. “Hi, Angela. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at home with that new hubby of yours.”
“Jake works all day with the horses and children. Taylor’s in school. Besides, this is where I want to be. Baking soothes me.”
Debra scrutinized her friend up and down. Her regular outfit of jeans and a T-shirt had smears of frosting and flour on them. She reached out and hauled Angela in her arms. “You look great. Marriage agrees with you.” She took a step back and smiled.
“What can I say? Jake’s wonderful.” She grinned. “Thanks for all your help getting things ready for our big day. I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re a wiz at planning. So, how have you been?”
Debra shrugged “I’m tired. Not sleeping well.”
Angela’s brow furrowed as she dragged Debra toward the counter stools. “Charley said you came in the other day with a headache. I hope it wasn’t nightmares again getting you down. You appeared to be having a good time at the wedding, though.” Angela beamed then winked.
Debra’s face grew warm. “Everyone said I looked like I was enjoying myself, but I don’t remember much of that night. Johnson O’Neill and I got drunk.” She sighed. “You know how I feel about drinking. I can’t believe I let myself have even a sip.”
Angela rested her palm on Debra’s arm. “Let’s sit down and talk. I’ll get you something to eat. We have fresh egg salad with lettuce and tomato pita sandwiches made.”
Debra’s stomach growled again, and she climbed on the stool. She ran her hands over her face. Just deep breaths. Nice and calm.
“Sounds like you are hungry. Let me grab your lunch and we’ll chat.” Angela headed into the back and quickly returned with a plate and glass. “Here.”
“Thanks. Time went by so quickly today and I skipped breakfast.” Debra picked up the sandwich and took a bite. “It’s good.” She gazed into Angela’s eyes. Was that sadness or pity? She hated her loss and her vow to avoid alcohol. Tears blurred her vision.
“What’s wrong?” Angela patted her back.
“It’s my fault.” She shoved the plate away and wiped at her face. “After Steve’s death, I vowed to never drink. I cajoled the bartender into giving me the bottle and then got drunk with Johnson. I feel like such a hypocrite.”
Angela drew Debra into her arms. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you’ve put this on your shoulders, but Steve wouldn’t want this. And Johnson doesn’t blame you.”
She lifted her head. “You’ve talked to him?” She hated the way her voice squeaked. Debra fell back into the chair.
Angela tapped Debra on the shoulder. “Yes, he was out at the ranch working this morning when I left. He appeared as if someone had kicked his puppy. Such a sad face.”
“What did he say about me?”
“Just that he’s been sending you flowers but hadn’t heard from you. I know he wasn’t the nicest man when he and I first met, but that’s the bulldog in him. He protects what’s his. Maybe you should talk to him. Give him a chance.”
Debra sighed. “Might as well. I’ve been hiding long enough. Thanks, Angela.”
“No problem. Just don’t ask me for any help planning your wedding.” She winked.
“You’re putting the cart before the horse. I’ve only agreed to talk to him, not marry him.” Debra chuckled.
“That’s what I thought, too. But those Heartsong Ranch cowboys have a way about them.” The smile that lit up Angela’s face was huge.
“You have your cowboy. I’ve sworn off love. But I will give Johnson a chance. I owe him that.” Debra stood and drew Angela into a hug. “Thanks. What do I owe you for lunch?”
“Nothing. Just give yourself a chance at happiness. You deserve it.”
Debra settled her purse on her shoulder. As she turned toward the door, Angela called out, “Here, don’t put it off. Go see him today. I know you. You’ll fret about it not five minutes after you leave. Let me send some dessert with you for the guys. It’ll give you a reason to stop out. I know Jake could use some treats today. That man has a hollow leg. And they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” She ran into the back room and sounds of pans banging emerged.
Fear settled in her stomach. She wasn’t sure about facing Johnson after she’d basically shut him out. Could she risk getting hurt again? Or hurting someone else?
Angela ran out with a small bag in her hands. “Here. There’s enough for you to join them. I know how you feel about my treats. Now, scoot. I have more baking to do.” She motioned for Debra to leave.
The bell rang as she left the café and Debra strode the two blocks to her minivan. Opening the door, she climbed in and started the vehicle. With the small white bag on the passenger seat and butterflies in her stomach, she headed out of town.
CHAPTER FIVE
The sun beat down on the barn, causing it to feel like a sauna. Johnson used the flat shovel to scoop out the end stall. The smell of manure and hay filled his nostrils. Sweat dripped down his back and settled into the waistband of his jeans. It felt good to physically exhaust himself. At least it kept his mind off things…off her.
Johnson wiped his brow on his sleeve as he scrutinized the stall. Almost done here. Thank God, this is the last one. Cleaning the stalls is my least favorite job. He heard the horses nickering in the corral and the sound of a car approaching. Must be the next appointment. Better get this done so I can saddle the horses for the session. He put more effort and speed into his shoveling.
“Hello, cowboy.”
Johnson spun at the sound of Debra’s voice and put his foot in a ripe pile. He flailed but regained his balance. He glanced down at the mess on his boot and swore. Angry at himself, he noticed the red-toed high heel just inside the barn door.
“Smooth move, cowboy. What happened to the guy who swept me off my feet at Jake and Angela’s wedding?”
His gaze climbed her body, finally reaching her face with the sparkle of amusement in her eyes. “Sure, laugh at the old man. We did get slow and sexy. What are you doing here?” Unable to keep the lightness out of his voice, he smiled.
“Angela sent me with treats.” She flashed the bag in front of her.
“That’s mighty nice of her. But when did you give up your real estate career for delivery driver? The economy that bad?”
“Very funny. Guess you don’t want these treats….” She turned to saunter away.
He reached for her. “Now wait. I didn’t say that.” He swore he could smell the honeysuckle scent of her over the stench of the barn. Fire burned under his fingertips. Unsure of how to proceed, he took a step back. “Really, why are you here, Debra?”
“The flowers were beautiful and unnecessary.” She tilted her head down.
“I wanted to apologize. You made it very clear, I did something wrong. My momma would turn over in her grave knowing I hurt a woman.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. Thank you for the new phone. I activated it.”
Were those tears in her eyes? Unable to bear the thought of her in pain, he tugged her into his embrace…manure and sweat be damned. “Don’t.” He kissed her forehead.
“Can we start again?” Her head lifted and she gazed into his face.
“I’d like that. Dinner tonight?” He couldn’t believe she was here. The small patch of sunlight highlighted her blonde hair, piled on her head. His gaze trailed down her body, pausing to admire how the red heels accentuated her legs. Even in her business armor, she’s still the hottest woman. Please say yes, his mind whispered.
“That’d be nice. Please let me cook for you.”
He nodded, afraid to trust his voice.
“Here’s my address.” She withdrew a pen from her purse and wrote her address on the Café French bag. “Say seven o’clock?” Again, h
e nodded and took the pastries in his hands. Her lips brushed against his then she was gone like the wind.
Johnson brushed his sleeve across his eyes. Was I hallucinating? I’ve heard of heat causing problems. He glanced at the sack in his grip and took a deep breath. Not a dream. Better get back to work. He set it on the tack shelf and returned to mucking the stall. A song whistled past his lips.
“Who was that and why are you whistling?”
Johnson turned at the sound of Jake’s voice. “Angela sent over some dessert.” He watched Jake peer around for the bag. It reminded him of the time the dog smelled the steak on the grill. That nose in the air, eyes searching. Jake finally found it on the shelf and reached for it, only to have Johnson drop the shovel and grab the sack first.
“What? My wife sent those over.” He shoved his hat back and glared at him.
“Too bad. You’ve been my best friend and boss for years, but these treats are mine.” Johnson’s grip on the bag tightened.
“You know not to mess with my wife…so what’s the deal?” Jake’s smile belied his gruff voice. Then his gaze settled on the writing. “Ah-ha! It’s what’s on it, not what’s in it!”
A flush crept up his face. “None of your business. But I’m willing to share one of these fine treats if you’ll let me go a little early today.” He swung the bag in front of his face. As Jake reached for it, he swiped it back. “Not until you agree.”
“Fine. But that address is Debra Donahue’s. I recognize it from the times Angela and I went over there. Why’s it on the treats?”
“We met the night of your wedding and hit it off. Didn’t Angela tell you?”
Jake shook his head. “I can’t believe your wife didn’t tell you. Debra’s hot. Sizzling and maybe more. She’s the first woman I’ve been interested in since my ex. But she forced me away.”
“And Angela’s playing matchmaker?” He took his gray Stetson off and hit his leg. “She’s got a soft spot for Debra. Gonna warn you…treat her nice or Angela will never give you treats again.” He shook his hat at the white sack.
“Will do, bud. Finally going to get a chance. She’s ignored me, even after I sent flowers.”
“Good. Debra deserves the best. Now git back to work. If you’re gonna take off early today, you’ve got a lot to do. After the stalls, clean the tack and saddle Cheyenne for Taylor and Cherokee for Kyle. Both are working today.” He reached for the Café French bag. This time, he got ahold of it and snatched two white-chocolate-chip brownies out. “Don’t worry. I left you one.” He laughed and handed back the bag.
“Thanks, boss man.”
***
Debra sat behind her computer, but she couldn’t focus on the information on the screen. Her mind raced with anxiety over tonight’s dinner. What to make, what to wear, how much cleaning she needed to do. Her phone rang.
“Good afternoon. Whisper Ranch Realty. We’ll help you find your forever home.”
“Hi, Debra. It’s Angela. I’m dying to hear how your meeting with Johnson went. Spill the details, girl.”
“Your treats were a hit. He’s agreed to come over for dinner tonight.”
“What are you cooking up? Besides yourself?” Laughter filled her friend’s voice.
“I’ve not been able to decide. I have this great chicken scaloppini recipe…or I can make mushroom chicken piccata…. Does he even like chicken? Ahh! Help me.”
“Relax. I’m sure he’ll love anything you make. After all, he’s not cooking. Jake told me that Johnson’s known for charred everything. Jake won’t let him in the kitchen anymore.”
She envisioned him, the smoke alarm sounding, and even the dog turning his nose up at the mess he put in its bowl. “I’m going to need to run by the grocery store and rush home to do some cleaning before he gets over at seven. I haven’t had a man over since Steve’s death. I’ve got the first-date jitters.”
“You’ll do great. He’s already half in love with you.”
“Eeek. What you do mean?” Her stomach clenched. The thought of loving someone and losing him again had become her worst nightmare. Nervous, she twirled a pen.
“We talked a bit yesterday when he stopped by the café hoping to run into you. He’s been in more for coffee and pastries in the last week and a half, than all of last year combined. I’ve seen the way that guy’s face lights up when he speaks about you. He mentioned how crazy he was when he hadn’t heard from you. He’d never shown an interest like that in a woman since I’ve known him. He even felt bad about the drinking.”
“What more do you know?” she demanded. “Now you spill.”
“We didn’t hit it off at first. He thought I was scamming Jake. He’s protective like that, but he’s got a heart of gold. Just a little gruff at first. And that’s all I’m going to say. You’ll have to get the rest from him.”
“Great friend you are,” she teased. “I’d better close up here and get to the store. I’m going to go with the piccata. Thanks, Angela. Give Taylor a hug from me.”
With the click of the phone, Debra scribbled down the list of ingredients she’d need for dinner. She grabbed her purse, the list, and her keys. She locked her office then headed toward her van. She took a deep breath. “Ready or not…dating world, here I come.”
CHAPTER SIX
The candles had long since burned out. The chicken piccata lay limp in the frying pan, a mess of dark-brown gel. Egg noodles stuck to the silver pan and were crunchy. Debra checked her watch for the twentieth time. Eight thirty. With each pass of car lights, she glanced out the bay window, wishing it was him.
The meal ruined, her dessert burnt, Debra felt like a fool. She strode toward the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. Her mascara dipped below her eyes in black smudges, her lipstick long nibbled off. She heard her stomach rumble as she turned on the cold water. Grabbing a washcloth, she wet it and rubbed at her face. Her reflection frowned back at her. Without the makeup, she appeared tired, defeated.
I believed in him. Why hasn’t he called? He acted pretty interested? Was it all a joke? A way to get back at me for the events at the wedding?
Her phone rang. She ran to the kitchen, grabbed her cell, and glanced at the screen. “Speak of the devil. Hi, Angela. I hope you’re not calling for an update. Tonight’s a bust. He never showed up or called.”
“Debra.” Angela took a deep breath. “Johnson asked me to call. He didn’t have your number. There’s been a problem.”
Her heart sped up. Debra remembered how she’d dreaded the phone calls after Steve’s death. “What kind of problem?”
“His sponsor had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital tonight. He hates that he messed up your date.”
Debra took a deep breath to calm her fiercely beating heart. “Oh no. I’m sorry. Here I was thinking the worst.”
Angela’s voice cracked with emotion. “He’s been…we’ve all been at the hospital since Johnson got the call. I finally had to get home and get Taylor ready for bed. She’s still got school tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Angela. I’m glad you called. And, I’m glad that nothing’s happened to Johnson. However, it sounds like he’s had a rough night. Please keep me updated, and feel free to give him my number.” She disconnected the phone then dumped the pans and wasted food into the sink. The intimate and romantic scene now a mess to clean. She flopped on her bed disappointed. Her mind unable to rest, Angela sat up quickly. She dragged off the small black dress she’d put on to seduce and slipped into her worn and comfortable blue jeans. Tugging a T-shirt and flannel shirt on, she grabbed her hair in her hands. She wrapped it up in a messy bun on her head. Racing back into the kitchen, she poured the still-warm coffee from the machine into a thermos and grabbed her purse and keys. She slipped her brown Western boots on her feet and headed to her car.
Any man who cared for a friend as he did shouldn’t be sitting and waiting alone.
While the hospital held horrible memories for her, Debra was determined to support Johnson. After al
l, she understood how lonely waiting at the hospital felt, but it was still much easier than loss.
***
The fluorescent lights made the bright whiteness of the hospital waiting room more shocking. The place lacked warmth and soothing feelings, as if the designer wanted everyone to be glad or in a hurry to leave such a sterile place. Unable to sit a moment longer, Johnson paced the row of floral patterned chairs.
“Twenty-one, twenty-two.” His boots echoed in the silence. “They’ve probably forgotten I was here,” he mumbled under his breath. “One, two, three.” Johnson returned to counting the silver-flecked floor tiles. A door opened with a swish. He turned and focused on Jeannie striding toward him, her face streaked with tears. “How’s your dad?” He feared to hear her answer.
“Thanks for waiting, Johnson. He’s still in the ICU but resting comfortably.” Toe to toe, she gazed up into his face. “The doctors found a major blockage and will operate in the morning.” Silent tears slid down her cheeks.
Johnson tugged the small brunette into his arms and she clung to him as if he was a rock in a raging river. “Dennis is tough. He’s gone nose to nose with me and yanked me back from the brink.” He patted her back. “Let’s sit down. You look like a strong wind would blow you over.” He led her over to the awful bank of chairs. “How can I help you and your dad? Just let me know what you need?”
“Knowing you’re here has been a blessing. Dad’s determined to pull through this out of spite. He told me that he’s not leaving until he sees his first grandbaby.” Her weak laugh brought a new round of tears sliding down her cheeks. “I could use a rest. It’s been a weary day.” Jeannie laid her head on Johnson’s jean-clad leg, much like she used to do when she was six. Before long, her peaceful snores could be heard.
“Shhh. Rest now,” Johnson whispered. “I’ll be here.” A swishing sound caused his head to turn. The outside doors opened. In walked his dream, Debra, and she carried a thermos. Please let there be coffee in that thing, he prayed. He saw the moment she noticed him. Her feelings flowed across her face…jealousy, fear, love, all before the smile perched there.