“Do you think I could go with you? To see him?” He held up a hand, apparently sensing the reluctance that caused her to tense. “I’d follow you in my truck. I’m not asking to ride with you or anything.”
“I doubt he’ll know you. And I don’t have a clue how to introduce you.”
“I know he might not remember me, but… I’d like to say thank-you.”
“Thank you?”
“I owe your grandfather my li— Well, maybe not my life, but everything that’s good about it.”
Now he really had her curious. Probably exactly his intention. He seemed harmless enough, but then so had Ted Bundy. “What if Grampa doesn’t remember you?”
“I could still say thank you. It would mean a lot to me. You could tell him who I am.”
“If he remembers me.” She looked up at him from beneath half-mast eyelids. “Shall I also tell him you bought his grandfather clock?”
A flash of lightning made them both look up at the sky, and Piper counted off the seconds before thunder rumbled in the distance.
“I’m serious about selling the clock back to you,” he said with a sense of urgency, as if he was afraid she’d make a run for it. “I’d take whatever you could afford.”
“Listen…Finn Neilson. I’m a librarian, not a rancher. I’d be writing you a check every month for the rest of my life if I paid you what I could afford. That’s not going to happ—”
“Make a downpayment.” Again he held up a hand, compelling her to listen. “However much you were going to bid today. You dropped out around seven hundred, right? Pay that now, and owe me the rest.”
She grimaced sheepishly. “I was bidding my rent money. It’s probably a blessing I didn’t win.” That was a lie. Grief over losing the grandfather clock washed over her again at the very thought, and she knew if she didn’t take this man up on his—admittedly very generous—offer, she would regret it deeply a year from now.
She sighed. Grampa had taught her to make decisions that way. When it comes to money, he’d always said, ask yourself if you’ll regret spending it—or not spending it—a year from now. Or five. Act on that answer.
“Okay,” she said, knowing she was making a rash decision. “Here’s the deal. You follow me to Grampa’s. I need some time to think.”
“Okay…”
“What? Now you want to back out?”
“No.” That grin again. And it struck her that it was strangely familiar. “I’m just surprised you went for it.”
That grin was going to be her undoing.
“Don’t push your luck, buddy.”
“Where are you parked?”
She pointed to the line of cars nosed in against the hedge row.
“I’m over here. I’ll follow you.”
“Don’t lose me,” she yelled over one shoulder. “I’ve been told I have a heavy foot.”
He laughed, but at that moment the sky opened up, drenching them both.
Fishing her car keys out of her bag she took off at a trot. “I’ll see you there.”
Piper didn’t know where Finn Neilson had been parked, but she wasn’t surprised when, five miles from town, she spotted him behind her in a silver Dodge Ram. She kept an eye on her rearview mirror all the way to the city limits…half the time watching the pickup behind her, and half the time trying to fix her bedraggled hair and makeup before she got to Grampa’s.
She took the lone empty parking spot in front of the nursing home, but by the time she got our of her car, Finn was somehow waiting for her at the front door. “Boy, you weren’t kidding about the lead foot!”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn’t think of a comeback. So she ignored him, murmuring hello to the nurses chatting at the front desk, pretending she didn’t see their curious stares directed at Finn.
He gave them that grin with a tip of his hat. Then, carrying the hat in one hand, he waited for her to lead the way. She curbed a smile at the way his hair stood up in spikes without the Stetson to contain it.
He followed two steps behind her through the maze of hallways to Grampa’s room.
She heard the TV blaring before she got to his room. She rapped twice on the door and pushed it open without waiting for a reply. Grampa turned from the TV, his eyes lighting up beneath bushy white eyebrows. “Well, there she is! It’s about time.”
She hadn’t told him she was coming. Turning behind her to motion for Finn, she tripped on something—the edge of the hallway carpet?—and stumbled forward, arms flailing. She managed to stay upright, but Finn’s discreet snickering behind her told her he’d seen all.
“Way to go, Grace,” Grampa deadpanned from his recliner in the corner.
Oh, no. He was having one of his bad days. When he thought she was her mother.
Still, Grampa’s eyes were clear and bright—and twinkling. “Have a nice trip?” he said.
She laughed and felt herself blush. “Not that nice.”
Grampa ignored her, looking past her to the doorway. “Who’d you bring with you?”
“Oh.” She stepped aside to reveal Finn. “Grampa this is Finn—”
“I know who it is,” Grampa said, struggling to get up. He looked happier than he ever looked to see her visit.
She hurried to his chair and locked her arm in the crook of his elbow, helping him rise. Pushing his walker in front of him, Grampa hustled to where Finn stood and reached out a hand. “It’s been a long time, young man.”
“Yes, sir. It has.” Finn looked from Grampa to Piper and back. “How are you?”
“How would you be if they moved you off your place and dumped you in a hole like this?”
Finn shrugged but kept silent.
“You know this girl?” Grampa tilted his head toward Piper.
“We just met, sir. Just a few minutes ago at your—”
“Finn is—” Piper grasped for something to deflect Finn’s words. She and Uncle Martin had decided it would be best not to tell Grampa the sale was going on today. They’d wait for when he was having a more lucid day, when it was all over. No need upsetting him. But she should have warned Finn. “Finn says he knows you, Grampa.” She looked up at him. “How’d you two meet?”
“Well, o’ course I know him.” He narrowed his eyes and studied Finn. “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell her what, sir?”
“How we met, of course.”
“No sir. Not yet.”
Piper looked between the two of them. Grampa seemed as clear-headed as he had in many months, and she was curious about the secret these two seemed to be hinting at.
She opened her mouth to ask them what was going on, but Finn stepped between her and her grandfather, interrupting. “Sir, I’m trying to make a business deal with your granddaughter, but she doesn’t seem to think she can trust me. I was hoping you might convince her.”
Grampa frowned at her. “That true?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Yes, sir.”
“You could sooner trust this young fella than you could trust me.”
That was a lot.
“Okaaay….” She studied her grandfather. She could usually tell when he was having a confused day, but today it could have gone either way. She did not want to tell Grampa what Finn was offering to do. For starters, she didn’t want to reveal that the sale had been today. For finishers, Grampa would no doubt offer to buy the clock from Finn. But he didn’t have the capacity to understand that it was taking every penny they could raise from selling the farm and his property to keep him here at the home. She made a rash decision. “I’ll trust him, Grampa. I know you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”
Even though it was kind of cute, she didn’t like the smug look Finn flashed her.
Grampa lifted his walker and pivoted back toward his chair, looking wobblier than he had when she was here yesterday. She helped him sit down.
But he waved her away. “You two go on now and get your business taken care of. Make her fix you dinner, Finn. She’s a mighty good cook
.”
“Yes, sir.” He shot her a sheepish look.
“I—”
“We’ll get right on that. Good to see you again, sir. And…thank you.”
“Not sure what I did, but you’re welcome,” Grampa said.
“Yes sir.” Finn gave a little salute.
And again, Piper had that feeling of deja vu. Why did he seem so familiar?
An expression she couldn’t read passed between the men. She didn’t know what was going on between those two, but she intended to find out. She bent to kiss Grampa’s crepey cheek and straighten the collar of his shirt.
“You go on now,” he said. “Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”
“Thanks, Grampa.” If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think he knew exactly what was going on.
Hesitating, she finally turned to see that Finn had left. She hurried out of the room in time to see him disappear around the corner. She caught up with him in the parking lot where the sun was attempting to peek through the clouds.
“What exactly is going on? How do you know my grandfather?”
“I don’t think he’d like it if I told you. You might not either.”
“What?” Was Finn Neilson bluffing? Was this some huge scam he was trying to pull off? “Why not?”
He chewed his lower lip, obviously trying to decide whether he should say anything or not.
Piper propped her hands on her hips. “If you won’t tell me, I’m leaving.” She wondered if he caught the absurdity of her “threat.” After all, he was the one offering to help her get Grampa’s grandfather clock back.
“On one condition…”
“I’m waiting.”
“We talk over lunch. I’m in acute danger of starving to death.”
She glanced at her phone. “It’s not even noon.”
“I usually eat at eleven.”
She rolled her eyes. “You poor baby. Okay, fine. The cafe is open.” She’d be safe there.
“We’ll iron out the terms of the deal, just not on an empty stomach.”
May
“How about we drive through the Dairy Barn and take our lunch to the park.”
Piper froze. They’d agreed on the cafe. She wasn’t prepared for a change of plans. But it was a beautiful day and the park was across the street from the sheriff’s office. “Okay. But we sit where people can see us.”
He laughed. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He put his right hand over the heart as if he were going to spout the Pledge of Allegiance at any moment. “I promise.”
Piper tipped her head, studying him. His hair was longer than it’d been just two weeks ago at the auction. His tan deeper. He was working for a rancher in the Flint Hills, he said. Had bought a little rundown house on twenty acres and hoped to have his own ranch someday.
They’d had a very pleasant lunch at the cafe. Finn was easy to talk to, and in some strange way, she felt like she’d known him all her life. And somehow by the end of that first meal together, he’d charmed her into meeting him for lunch the first of every month—payday—with a check for one hundred dollars in hand.
She still wasn’t sure where she would get an extra hundred dollars a month, but she couldn’t let the clock go. It was a piece of her history. And her connection to Grampa. She would regret it for the rest of her life if she let it get away.
Even so, she’d refused to let Finn accept less than the full price he paid for the clock. “It may take me twenty-two payments, twenty-two months to pay it off,” she’d told him. “But I promise I’m good for it.”
He’d gotten a funny look on his face—like maybe he hadn’t done the math yet—but then he smiled. “I guarantee it won’t take that long.
“How can you make a guarantee like that?” she’d asked.
But he only smiled that charming, crooked smile, tipped his hat, and said, “See you next month.”
Now he was ordering lunch for two at the Dairy Barn drive-thru. She followed him in her car to the park where they straddled opposite benches of the picnic table closest to the sheriff’s office. While the spring breeze made the cottonwood leaves whisper overhead, they sipped cherry cokes and laughed and talked over double cheese bacon burgers. Then she handed over his check, and they both went back to work.
Only then did she realize Finn never had told her how he knew Grampa.
June
“You stole money? From Grampa?” Piper couldn’t make that fit with the Finn she’d gotten to know.
He looked at the ground. “I’m not proud of it. And please remember I was only thirteen at the time.” He sat across from her at the cafe shaking his head, looking appropriately contrite.
“I don’t care how old you were. You stole from my grandpa?” Grampa had never said anything to her about getting ripped off by some punk teenager. Of course, she would only have been ten years old at the time. And in the throes of Mom’s illness.
Why was Finn Neilson dropping this confession on her now? Apparently he’d taken two hundred dollars from the glove compartment of her grandfather’s pickup. According to Finn, his grandfather and Grampa were friends and Finn had overheard Grampa talking about the money.
“But…you gave it back, right?”
“Couldn’t. I’d already spent it,” he said over a bite of chili dog. “Your grandpa let me work it off.”
“Yeah, and I bet he paid you twice what you were worth, too.”
Finn gave her a sheepish grin. “You sound like you have reason to know.”
Grampa had always been generous to a fault. If Piper was ever saving for something, Grampa would suddenly have a dozen jobs lined up for her. And a healthy check waiting at the end of the day.
“That’s why I said I owe your grandpa my life. I…I was headed down a bad road, and him forgiving me like that… Well, it changed everything. That’s why I wanted you to have the clock.”
“You had a funny way of showing it.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you wanted me to have it, why did you bid against me?”
He drew back, hands up as if he were under arrest. “I didn’t start it.”
“Well, I sure wasn’t bidding against myself.”
“It was that antique dealer. As soon as he got in on the bid, I knew you were out of luck.” He studied her. “You thought it was my fault?”
“Well what was I supposed to think? When I bid my last dollar, I looked over and it was you bidding against me.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I wasn’t bidding against you. I was bidding against that city slicker behind you.”
“Did…did you even want the clock?”
“I wanted it for you.”
“You didn’t even know me. Why would you spend two thousand dollars on something you don’t even want, to sell it back to a girl you don’t even know?”
He cocked his head, studying her. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
He hid a grin. “Never mind.” He wadded up his napkin and lobbed it toward the trash bin near the tree. “I need to be going. See you next month.”
Two down, twenty to go. She had a feeling the months were going to fly by way too fast.
July
Piper checked the rearview mirror and gave her hair one last fluff before getting out of the car.
Her third “date” with Finn Neilson. She quickly edited the thought. This wasn’t a date—as much as she might wish it was. She was twenty-four-and-never-been-kissed. Well, unless you counted the time that little boy—Griff…she still remembered his name—had kissed her in the hayloft of Grampa’s barn when she was five. There’d been some kind of a party at Grampa’s and half a dozen kids were playing in the barn.
Griff bragged that he was eight and he hefted a seventy-pound bale of hay to prove it. He was her first crush. Especially after he leapt from a haystack in the middle of a game of hide-and-seek and kissed her on the cheek.
“Hey! You’re supposed to ask!�
� she’d yelled, clapping one hand over the spot as if she were wounded.
He’d run off, grinning, and shimmied down the ladder to the barn below. She never saw him again, but she’d lost a little piece of her heart to that long-ago boy.
She wondered where that kid was now. She could almost make his face come into focus, all these years later. He’d scrambled down the ladder after planting that kiss, but she could still remember how his spiky blond hair had smelled—like new-mown hay and fresh-cut grass. Over the years, she’d entertained the idea of naming her firstborn son Griff. She put a hand to her cheek now, remembering.
A knock on the passenger side window startled her and she rolled the window down to Finn’s quizzical stare.
“You okay in there?”
“Sorry. I was just— Never mind. You hungry?”
“You have to ask?” He opened the door for her and put a hand at the small of her back as they went in to the cafe.
Lizzie, the owner, threw her a look that asked if this guy was someone special. Piper ignored it and hurried back to their booth. Their booth. As if they’d been coming here forever. But hey, third time with the same guy was some kind of record for Piper Kendall.
“What’s so funny?” Finn still wore the quizzical expression from earlier.
“Oh…nothing. I’ll tell you later.” She waved him off, grateful when Lizzie appeared with menus.
Their hour-long lunch stretched into two and Piper handed her payment over to Finn, thinking she was getting the best end of this deal by a long shot.
August
“I found these. In your clock.” Finn slid a thick envelope across the cafe table. “Figured you’d probably want them.”
She lifted the unsealed flap of the manila envelope.
“It was already open,” he said, looking guilty. “I didn’t go through them or anything. Just long enough to realize what they were.”
What they were was photographs. A thick packet of pictures of all shapes and sizes. Some of them were wrinkled and warped, as if they’d been taken out of old albums. Piper could see at a glance that most of them were of her as a little girl.
“These were in the clock?”
Going Once... Page 2