by Tanya Hanson
“Aw, rodeo.” Mallie’s heart thumped.
“Bragg’s an accountant as well as a wrangler, for the ranch of course, and for folks all around the county. He gets pretty busy at tax time. You see, with eight kids, Pa let us know early on we all had to find ways to contribute. The ranch couldn’t sustain us all.
“Scott wrangles, of course, and runs the online store, and has his own web-design business. Kelley’s chuck cook for the wagons in summer but has started her own restaurant over in Sunset Hills. Then there’s Kenn who you kinda know. Pike is a large-animal vet. Rachel second oldest after me, is an attorney. Nice little practice in town, but she’s on maternity leave right now. Matthew is three months old.”
His mouth tightened a little at his last phrase, and she got it right off. Same age Ella was when her mom bailed. Here was his sister, taking time out of a busy practice to be a mother.
“She’s alone too, though.” His voice softened so much over the tires meeting the rutty road. “Her hubby Nick, our geneticist, got called up to the Middle East last summer and missed Matty’s birth.”
“Oh, no. Will his deployment be over soon?”
“I hope. But I’m talking too much. Tell me about you.” The main road snaked around hills and bordered rangeland studded with cattle. Picture-perfect calendar material.
“Well, I’m the baby. Brian’s fourteen months older, and we’ve always been best friends. Netta is the oldest…she’s a big, bad forty year old with teenagers! I love my nieces Raven and Wren to death.”
He chuckled. “What’s that about? Your sister into birds or something?”
“If you only knew. She’s a bigger tree-hugger than Brian. Lives in a geodesic dome powered solely by solar. Actually, she runs an eco-business called just that: ‘Solely by Solar.’”
“Cool. We go green and sustainable around here as much as we can.”
“The crazy thing is we’re Finnish on Mom’s side. Netta’s named for her. Raven’s blond as dawn.”
He laughed again, a free and easy sound in the cold air. “So what do you do back in California?” Hoop asked.
“My grandfather started a paper and packaging company years ago, and my dad and uncle own and run it now. Tree-hugger Brian is expanding our green products division. After BU, I came on board in Media and Events. I arranged luncheons for clients, in-service for our employees. Conventions for the consortium of other related businesses. Trade shows. That sort of thing.”
He tossed her a glance. “You must be a good organizer.” Then he chuckled. “Not my strength.”
“Well, I was. But Daddy put me in media after…after I got back on my feet. Said it was less stress. So now I get to write and proofread the newsletter. Oh, and send memos.” It wasn’t ever a good thing to dwell on her disappointment. Instead, she concentrated outside the window at the town ahead. “Very pretty. Brick and old trees.”
“Yep.” He raised a finger from the wheel and pointed. “Over there’s the oldest building in town. The jailhouse.”
“What?”
“Now it’s a museum.”
Hooper parked in front of Mountain Cove Elementary School, a two-story brick building that bore the patina of time. Indeed, the date 1938 showed from a carved stone above the big front door. She’d seen picture-perfect buildings like this in movies.
“It killed me when she started school,” Hooper muttered. “Not that I want her home forever, but it’s just the start.”
“The start of what?”
“Of all the goodbyes.”
She heard the longing and above all, the type of goodbye he actually meant. The same goodbye that lingered just this side of her subconscious. Clearing her throat in lieu of replying, she rubbed a brisk mist from her eyes. They had today. Thinking beyond it was, well, unthinkable.
A troop of miniature humans lined up at a gate led by a woman in a sweater appliquéd with felt cut-outs of books, apples, and pencils. Mallie recognized Hooper’s munchkin at once, and in a flash, the pretty little girl ran into his outstretched arms, a little backpack falling to the ground. Mallie’s heart couldn’t help but tingle. A daddy’s girl herself, she’d never have made it without her father’s love and care.
“Daddy! Daddy!” After a hefty hug and several smooches, Hoop set Ella down, and she looked straight at Mallie.
“Daddy, is this your new girlfriend?”
Mallie heard her own intake of breath.
“No, honey girl,” Hooper said quickly. “It’s Miss Mallie.”
“But you want a new mommy for me. Since my old one went away.”
Mallie’s heart panged.
“Yeah, honey girl. But it doesn’t quite work like that.”
“Then who is she?”
Mallie bent down a little. “I’m here for your Uncle Kenn’s wedding. I’m Mallie.
“Hi Mallie. I’m Ella,” the little girl said with dead-on seriousness. Then she peered closely at Mallie as if looking for lint. “My real mamma is gone, but someday I’d like to have another one all my own. It would be fun if she was you.” She announced. “You’re awfully pretty.”
“Oh mercy, Ella. What are you saying?” Hoop’s cheekbones colored attractively like sundown over shadows. “Miss Mallie is our friend. Now, come on. If you’re a real good girl, we can go to the Butterbean Café. You can have ice cream while we big people have coffee.”
“You can call me Mallie, Ella.”
“OK. So let’s go get ice cream from Auntie Chelsea, Daddy.” She peeked again at Mallie. “What do you think?”
Mallie nodded with what she hoped was enthusiasm because her heart pounded with a terrible ache. How could any mom go and leave this angel behind?
But if that was Hoop’s main goal, finding a new mom for his daughter, she was off the hook. Such a goal was way off limits for her. He above all people would understand she couldn’t promise a future to anybody. Therefore, she could enjoy her weekend with them without regret. It might break her heart, but she was a survivor, after all.
After strapping in his daughter, Hoop helped Mallie into the front seat like a true cowboy and gentlemen, and drove into the town.
“There’s our church.” He pointed to a tall spire topped by a cross, then to a charming brick building across the way. “The Gingham Grove Bed and Breakfast filled to capacity with wedding guests. And there…” Hoop indicated a rustic log building with a sign flashing Ricochet Motel in red, white, and blue neon.
She looked around for another church but didn’t see one. “Mountainview Community Church? But the invitation said Woodside Chapel.”
“Yep. Woodside’s a new planned development going up on land we sold. Christy—the bride—is landscape designer for the project, and she and Kenn wanted to be the first couple married at the chapel. It’s just in the framing stage, though. Gonna be interesting. Just got the roof on. At least if it rains nobody’ll get wet. Remember to wear your woolies.” As he stopped at a red light hanging over the street on cables, he turned to give her a heart-melting grin. “It might be cold out, but I’ll be standing up for my brother. Too far away to keep you comfy.”
Thinking of him close and comfy somehow set her pulse to pounding from head to toe.
Hooper parked in front of a Western-style false-front building next to its twin marked Mountain General Mercantile. In the café window, a hand-lettered sign posted the day’s special; chicken-fried steak, green beans with bacon, with Grandma Ida’s home-style potatoes O’Butterbean. Mallie wasn’t quite sure what the last dish was, but her mouth watered at the thought of down-home cooking. Trendy California cuisine with its salads of arugula rather than real lettuce and tacos made every which way but Mexican suddenly seemed far away and unappetizing. Why hadn’t she taken advantage of the big dining table back at the ranch that swarmed with real food? Because she wanted to go riding.
Or to go riding with Hooper. With a secret smile, she knew the answer to that.
Ella burbled with excitement as she caught Hooper’s hand an
d all but dragged him inside the café. Since Mallie had the distinct feeling the little girl would have grabbed her hand as well, she kept it tight in her pocket just in case. Hands were the first thing somebody gave to another. She’d heard that in a movie one time. And this was weekend only. Little kids didn’t understand concepts of time.
The Butterbean Café was exactly what you would see in a movie about a small town. Yellow gingham curtains with black grosgrain ribbons, cowhide upholstered booths, thick ceramic dishes rimmed with hand-painted horseshoes, and a real soda fountain. A throng of cowboys, relaxing, she guessed, after the October markets, held onto big white mugs at the counter while calling loud halloes to Hoop. From their collective rising sets of eyebrows, Mallie read the interest in their eyes and gave them a hearty wave. After the three of them settled in a booth, an adorable redheaded waitress bounced their way. Chelsea, of course. She had endless red curls and Hooper’s auburn eyes. She half-wondered what Hoop’s own hair was like when full-grown.
“Auntie Chelsea!”
“Hi, punkin. I’ll get you that chocolate-peanut butter sundae I know you like. And for you?” After a polite nod at Mallie, she widened her eyes at her brother, waiting for an introduction.
“This is Mallie Cameron. Her brother is a groomsman. Mallie, my sis Chelsea.”
For a beautiful second, the way Hooper said her name touched her ears as if she’d never heard it before, and all thoughts of food fled her head. “Hmmm. Hot tea with lemon.” It was way too California to ask for herbal.
“Me? I’ll have coffee,” Hoop announced. “Straight up caffeine and black as night.”
Mallie understood at once. The weariness had come upon him. How well she remembered the burning need for rest.
A couple of the seated cowboys ogled Chelsea as she prepared their orders. Mallie, with a secret grin, watched Hoop’s fingers curl in indignation. Right then and there she figured he was already polishing his shotgun to get it ready for Ella’s teenage years.
After Chelsea returned and set their orders on the table, Ella grabbed Hooper’s left hand with her right, reaching for Mallie’s right with her left, then gave a simple order. “Hold Daddy’s hand, Mallie.”
She gave her hand willingly this time but wondered what was going on. Together, Hooper and Ella paraphrased a Bible verse Mallie knew she’d heard sometime in her life.
“This is a day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad.”
Then Ella said, somberly, “I am glad for my ice cream. I am glad for Mrs. Meyer. She’s taking us to the pumpkin patch next week. And I’m glad for Mallie. I hope she stays.”
Both the little girl’s hand and Hooper’s tightened about Mallie’s, and a blush heated her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said grace before eating anything, and most certainly, never in public.
Hoop’s face had pinked a little, too. “I know it’s not the typical blessing. But Ella and I like to make time for other things God gives us, besides food.”
“That was…completely lovely,” Mallie said, squeezing his fingers and meaning every word.
“Daddy, you told me this morning you wanted to ride today. Can I go with you?” A circle of chocolate ringed Ella’s mouth.
Hooper tossed Mallie an eye roll and wry grin. “No, honey girl. When we get back, we’re all taking a hayride to the chapel to decorate it. Unless…you need a nap?” His eyes twinkled.
“Aw, Daddy, I took a nap at school.”
“Well, then, you can help.”
“Can Mallie help too? Oh. Please say yes.”
Hoop nodded at her over his mug. “Sure. If she wants to.”
“Oh, she does. Don’t you, Mallie? Did you know I get to be flower girl at the ’hearsal and the wedding?”
Mallie didn’t have a chance to reply. But whatever was going on, she sure wanted to be a part of it.
“Let’s finish up here so we can get going,” Hooper said, eyes bright. But suddenly, too many thoughts swamped her, all of them involving flower girls and white lace and rehearsals.
All the unthinkables.
3
It hadn’t been a date at all, but it still felt like one.
Even if he didn’t get to say much to Mallie on the drive back to Hearts Crossing. Ella had insisted that her new BFF buckle herself into the back seat next to her. Feeling like a chauffeur, Hoop peeked at them from the rearview from time to time and hated how much he liked the sight of the two of them together.
Mallie and he had a bond, that’s for sure. An attraction together. He was certain of it. But California girls who worked for their family’s big successful business were just that: California girls who worked for their family’s big successful business.
He felt the fool. His remarks to Ma this morning about finding somebody new to love didn’t mean he had to fall for the first single female who crossed his path. Still. He couldn’t rid himself of the pressing urge to get Ella a true family life and truth to tell, his little house felt lonely, his bed cold at night. As for Mallie, she stunned him, and while he might have not been on the prowl for years, he could still recognize signs of attraction. But she’d be gone soon. He closed his eyes at the four-way stop at Shield Nickel Road. It was just all the wedding talk, all the fussing and planning now bearing fruit that was getting to him.
From the rearview, he had to smile as Ella patted her tummy. “I get to wear a real pretty dress. White and fluffy, with a big yellow ribbon right here. And I get to hold a basket.”
“And tonight you get to practice just what to do.” He joined the chat. Already he wondered if she’d freak when she saw the rows of guests tomorrow, though. Rehearsals were easy. Real life was different.
“And I got new shiny shoes!”
Mallie laughed, smooth like warm honey, and Hooper caught a glimpse of her ruffling Ella’s long brown hair. His heart tumbled at the same time his teeth gritted. Hair the same color as Lynn’s. They’d gotten married at Mountainview Church. Maybe that subtle reminder had caused his fatigue, his crummy mood.
“I got new shoes, too.” Mallie leaned toward his daughter as if imparting an important secret. “But they hurt my feet.”
“Then why’d ya get ’em?” Ella asked.
Mallie laughed out loud this time. “Well, they’re awfully pretty. I guess it’s something silly big girls do.”
“Do big girls do a lot of silly things?”
“Uh, yeah,” Hoop muttered under his breath and regretted it at once, hoping Mallie didn’t hear him but, if she did, realized he’d meant Lynn.
Things were sure bustling at the ranch when he pulled in. Ella squealed at the big white tent going up.
“Is it a circus?”
“No, honey girl.” He unbuckled her first, then enjoyed helping Mallie from the truck. Even his less-than-perfect fingers felt her warm skin, and his less-than-perfect mood brightened. He hoped molecules from whatever perfume she was wearing stuck in the upholstery for a long, long time. “They’ll be setting up tables in there for the reception tomorrow.”
“But we always have hoedowns in the barn. They’re so fun,” Ella persisted. Hooper burst out laughing. A side of beef on a spit and smokers belching out tender brisket weren’t exactly wedding fare. Although the ranch’s own prime rib was making an important appearance on tomorrow’s menu.
“That’s right. But this isn’t exactly a hoedown, Ella.” Hooper met Mallie’s smiling eyes. “We have a big hoedown after each of our wagon train trips. But Auntie Christy wanted something a little more formal. If that isn’t a total oxymoron around here.”
“Oxes and morons? Daddy, you need to put a dollar in the bad-word jar.”
“I’ll explain it all, sweetie.” Mallie’s warm gaze left his, and he felt an instant chill of disappointment. They started toward the house. Hooper slammed the truck door.
“Ella, you run along home and change into your grubbies. We got that hayride to take and decoratin’ to do. And don’t forget your big jacket. I don’t want
you to catch a cold.”
“OK, Daddy. I won’t get sick.” She peered up at Mallie. “Daddy’s been really sick. Did you know? I don’t get it.” Her little shoulders drew together underneath her red sweater. “Medicine is supposed to make you well. But it made him really, really sick.”
“I do know.” Mallie looked at him again. He saw the same burning tightness in her eyes that she said she’d read in his. Ella reached for Mallie’s hand as they walked, and he almost thought he saw hesitation on Mallie’s part. It troubled him a bit. Ella was such a charmer, and Mallie had seemed to like her right away. So why was the handclasp so reluctant?
They headed toward the big house.
“You’re coming to the ’hearsal to watch me, aren’t you, Mallie?” He heard his daughter say. “I got a new dress for that, too. Gramma made it.”
“No, sweetie. That’s just for the wedding party.”
“Party? We get to have a party?”
Hooper managed to laugh, tired to the bone, his incision scar tweaking more than a bit. “Not till it’s over and we get back here. Your gramma and Auntie Kelley are making wonderful food for it. There’ll be people all over the house. ‘Wedding party’ just means all the people who will march in the wedding. But tonight for the dinner, friends and family get to go, too.”
“Oh.” She peered up at Mallie in an adoring way. “So you can be there?”
“Yes, of course. I’m here with my brother Brian who is part of that wedding party. I’m his ‘plus-one.’ That means I’m his date.”
“His date? Eeeeew. But he’s your brother. Not your boyfriend.”
Mallie shrugged and smiled. “Well, it can work like that at weddings.”
“I think Daddy should be your boyfriend. Mallie, I like you.”
Mallie gasped at the same second he did. In unison. Simpatico. As one. Her gaze met Hoop’s, full of untold stories that might not have happy endings. Well, they might not have forever, but they did have now. She smiled with her whole heart. At least, that’s what he saw.
“Why don’t I help you get changed?” Mallie said in a quick rush as they reached the porch.