“Are you sure you can spare the time to go with me?” Gran asked, looking over the saddle on Sunny’s back.
“I’m sure.” Derek tightened Blue Boy’s cinch. In truth he couldn’t spare the time, but he didn’t like the idea of Gran riding alone. She was a decent horsewoman, for someone who hadn’t learned to ride until she was in her late fifties. All the same . . .
“Well, I’m glad you can come. You look tired, dear. You could use an hour or so to relax.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Even he had to admit he’d been burning the candle at both ends for several weeks now.
They finished saddling and bridling the horses, then mounted up and rode away from the barnyard, headed north toward the tree-lined Thunder Creek. The path they followed—ground packed hard by countless other horses over the years—was wide enough to ride side by side, making it easy to carry on a conversation.
“Did I tell you,” Gran asked about fifteen minutes into their ride, “that Brooklyn is coming to the women’s potluck tomorrow evening?”
Derek hid a smile. If this was really about the potluck, he would eat his hat.
“She’s going to ask for Wednesday nights off come fall so she can attend our Bible study. It’s wonderful, the way she’s become such a part of the community.”
“Yeah,” he answered, his eyes watching a flock of birds swoop from tree to tree. “It’s great.”
“She was worried when she first came back. Afraid she wouldn’t ever fit in.”
And Derek hadn’t done much at first to make her feel more confident. He would do it differently if he could.
There was a lengthy pause before Gran continued, “And I suppose you know I’ve been asked to stay with Alycia on Friday evening when you take Brooklyn to the vineyard for the concert.”
“No.” He met her gaze. “That I didn’t know. I figured it would be Mrs. Nims.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Didn’t you think I would want to know you were dating again? Not that I’m nosy, of course.”
“Of course not.” He grinned, relieved to know she wasn’t really upset with him for his silence. “But I’ve hardly seen you lately. When would I have had the chance to tell you?”
“Ever heard of a telephone?”
Other than that he’d asked Brooklyn out, there wasn’t any news. One date was just one date. Right? Not exactly earth-shattering information that had to be shared instantly.
“However,” Gran added before he could voice his thoughts aloud, “I’m not sure I believe your silence is because you haven’t seen me or didn’t think to call me.”
He shrugged.
“All right. I know when someone wants me to mind my own business.”
“It isn’t that, Gran. It’s just . . . I’m not sure what to say. I know how I feel about Brooklyn. At least I’m pretty sure I know. But I don’t know her feelings about me. Yeah, she agreed to go out with me, but she keeps a lot of her feelings pretty close to her vest. She’s not always the easiest person to read.”
“Perhaps not yet. Give her time.”
“I’m trying.” He looked over at his grandmother. “Seems that’s my lesson lately. Be patient. Wait.”
“It’s a lesson we all have to learn at one time or another, Derek.”
He nodded, and then they fell into a comfortable silence, content to listen to the steady beat of hooves against earth, the rustle of leaves, and the soft sounds of water tumbling over a rocky creek bottom.
Chapter 25
Brooklyn worked the early shift on Friday. Off at three, she had more than enough time to shower away the restaurant smells and select the right outfit for the evening. The latter was more difficult than expected. A faded pair of skinny jeans was an easy choice, but picking the right summer top proved frustrating. Too loose, too tight, perhaps too low cut, definitely the wrong color, decidedly outdated. She wasn’t a clothes horse. Her income had never allowed for extravagance in that regard, and her choices weren’t unlimited. So it surprised her how hard it was to make up her mind.
“Wear this one, Mom.” Alycia picked up a short-sleeved, peachy-pink blouse from the bed.
Brooklyn had tried it on twice already.
“It’s really pretty on you.”
“Is it?” She took the blouse from her daughter and held it against her chest as she looked in the mirror. It was her favorite color and looked good with her skin tone. It was also casual, as if to announce that this date was nothing out of the ordinary. “Okay. That’s what I’ll wear.” She slipped it over her head. “How about helping me decide on my earrings?”
Alycia slid off the bed and went to the small jewelry case on the dresser. Not a lot of choices there either. “Mmm. I think the little pearl ones.”
The chosen earrings were the one thing Brooklyn owned that had once belonged to her mother. Whatever else her mother had departed without, her dad had thrown away or given to some charity. But Brooklyn, at the tender age of six, had managed to save the pierced earrings. She’d kept them hidden for the next eleven years, then taken them with her when she and Chad eloped to Reno.
Strange, really. She didn’t have special feelings for the earrings. She barely remembered her mother, and the few memories she had weren’t good ones. In fact, she wasn’t sure they were even true. They may have been planted there by her dad’s comments through the years.
Alycia knew none of that. She simply liked the earrings. So did Brooklyn.
She put them on.
The doorbell rang.
“That will be Mrs. Johnson,” she said. “Can you get the door for me?”
“Sure.” Alycia raced away.
After a final glance in the mirror, Brooklyn grabbed her sweater from the foot of the bed and left the room. Alycia’s and Ruth’s voices drifted up the stairs to meet her. She followed the sound into the kitchen.
“Look, Mom. Mrs. Johnson brought ham for dinner. Did you know ham is one of my favorites, Mrs. Johnson?”
The older woman smiled. “Somebody may have mentioned that.”
Brooklyn stopped at the counter and watched as Ruth unloaded the food containers from a canvas bag. “This was so nice of you. You didn’t have to make dinner for her, you know.”
The older woman gave her a patient smile. “Of course I know. I wanted to. Just like I wanted to come stay with Alycia. I think it’s wonderful that you and Derek are giving yourselves an evening off. You’ve both been working long days, and this evening will be much more relaxing than the hubbub of the Fourth, as much as we all love that.”
“Doesn’t Mom look pretty?” Alycia asked. “I picked that top for her.”
Ruth stopped what she was doing and gave Brooklyn a long look. “You made a wonderful choice. Your mom looks very pretty.”
Brooklyn shook her head, as if to cast off the compliment, though it was nice to hear.
“I’ve forgotten. What time will Derek come for you?” Ruth returned to unloading the food. Obviously far more than ham.
“Six o’clock.”
Ruth checked her wristwatch. “Looks like I didn’t get here any too soon.” Her gaze shifted to Alycia. “Young lady, what say we wait to eat until your mom and Derek are on their way?”
“Sure. I can wait.”
“Me too.”
The doorbell rang again. Brooklyn’s heart beat a little faster in response.
“He’s here!” Alycia hurried out of the kitchen.
Ruth smiled. “He’s always been a punctual lad.” She motioned for Brooklyn to lead the way to the living room.
Brooklyn hadn’t dated in the years since Alycia’s birth. She had been, after all, still married, even if Chad wasn’t with her. Plenty of men wouldn’t have cared about that particular complication, but she had. At first her cheap wedding ring had provided her with a level of protection. Later, after she’d finally removed it, she hadn’t bothered to explain. She’d simply refused when asked out. It had been easy to do. She hadn’t wanted to get involved with anyone.
&n
bsp; Until now.
She almost turned back for a drink of water. Her mouth was suddenly dry. But Ruth was right behind her. There was nothing to do but move forward. A metaphor for her life, perhaps.
Derek looked up from Alycia when Brooklyn stepped into the living room. His eyes lit with appreciation. “You ready?”
“I’m ready.” She held up her sweater. “I even remembered this for later.”
“You’ll need it. That much closer to the river makes a diffference when night falls.”
Derek took a couple of steps toward his grandmother and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for helping out tonight, Gran.”
“Gracious.” Ruth waved a hand. “Couldn’t be happier to do it. Alycia and I are going to have a good time.”
Derek swiveled toward Brooklyn again. “Then shall we?” He offered the crook of his arm.
Her heart hammering as if she were sixteen and leaving for the prom, she took his arm and allowed him to escort her out of the house.
There were more than a dozen vineyards and wineries in this corner of southwest Idaho. The majority of them were close to the Snake River. A few were farther north near the Boise River. In addition, fruit orchards flourished throughout the area. Derek thought it made for a pretty drive. He hoped Brooklyn thought so too.
Dubois Vineyards was located on a slope of land overlooking the Snake. For close to thirty years, the owners had hosted concerts on Friday evenings during the summer. People came from far and near with their blankets, lawn chairs, and baskets. Most guests partook of the vineyard’s award-winning wine over the course of the evening. After eating their picnic dinners, the guests would visit the gift shop, stroll the grounds, and enjoy the scenery. As the air began to cool, the concert would begin. The music might be country or rock or classical. Occasionally it was blues or jazz. Most of the performing artists were from the area, although sometimes a performer flew in from somewhere else in the country.
All Derek cared about tonight was that Brooklyn would have a good time.
They arrived at the vineyard as the gates to the amphitheater were being opened to the public. He parked his pickup in the lot between a white Lexus SUV and classic red Mustang convertible, top down, then hopped out of the truck and hurried around to the passenger side. Brooklyn had opened the door by that time, and when Derek offered his hand to help her down, she accepted it.
“I hope I’m not underdressed,” she said.
He followed her gaze to a woman in a sleeveless white dress and heels. Her escort wore a business suit, although he’d removed his jacket and had it draped over one shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said to Brooklyn. “If you are, then so am I.”
Her nervous look disappeared.
Derek released her hand so he could retrieve the picnic items from the backseat of the pickup. “Come on. Let’s find a spot in the shade. It’s why we came this early.”
When she nodded, she did so with a smile.
He liked her smiles. She had about a dozen different varieties, and he was starting to be able to differentiate a few of them. One meant she’d remembered something sad. One meant she was trying to contain her laughter. Another meant contentment.
This one? Maybe that she liked being with him. At least he hoped that’s what it meant.
They walked toward the gated entrance and, after presenting the tickets for the evening, followed a narrow pathway around to the backside of the round building that housed the gift shop, vineyard offices, and wine-tasting room. Trees dotted the hillside along the perimeter of the amphitheater. Estimating the course the sun would take over the next few hours, Derek led the way toward some shade on the north side that, with luck, would deepen with the passing of time rather than disappear. Once there, he set the small cooler and basket near the tree trunk, then spread the large blanket on the ground.
“Want to look around before we eat?” he asked when he was done.
“I’d like that.”
He reached for her hand again and was glad when she took it without hesitation. Progress. They were making progress.
First, they strolled up one row in the vineyard and back down another. Sunlight painted a buttery glow across the green vines. The clusters of grapes, still six weeks or more from being ready to pick, were mostly hidden by the leaves.
“We had a grape arbor when I was a kid,” Derek said. “I used to stop there when I got home from school. I’d pick a bunch and eat them right there before I went inside.” He remembered the flavor bursting in his mouth. “So good.”
“Dad never planted anything in our yard. The roses that are there came with the house, I think.”
Derek didn’t want her thinking sad thoughts. Not tonight. “Maybe we should plan to come back in September when the grapes are ripe.”
Her smile returned. “That would be nice.”
By then they’d arrived again at the main building.
“Want to go into the gift shop?” he asked.
“Please.”
Inside, they poked around the shelves and tables. Fun, silly items abounded. So did expensive, high-end ones.
“Derek, look at these coasters.” She held one up. It had a stick-character man wearing a smile and the words, Patience is what you have when there are too many witnesses. “I need this one when I’m working at the diner.”
“I’ll bet that’s not true. I’ll bet you’re patient by nature.”
She crinkled her nose. “Learned behavior at best.”
He laughed, enjoying the easy banter, then pointed at the coaster in her hand. “Let me buy it for you.”
“No.” She shook her head, her smile fading a little. “I don’t really need it.”
How often, he wondered, did Brooklyn not buy something she would like to have just for the fun of it? Too often, he’d guess.
He decided he’d like to change that for her.
As far as Brooklyn was concerned, the evening was magical. From the food that Derek had packed in the basket to the stroll around the grounds of the winery to the stringed quartet that provided the concert, everything was beyond perfect.
The classical music of the quartet lingered in her mind during the drive home. Overhead, stars twinkled against the black tapestry of night, brighter without competition from city lights. One of the advantages of country living.
When Derek reached her driveway, he didn’t pull all the way up to the house. Instead, he cut the engine while only halfway there. His headlights went off too. The night was silent except for the song of crickets.
“You had a good time?” he asked.
“I loved it.”
“Good. So did I.”
She looked toward him, a shadowy figure turned bluish by the dashboard lights. “You’re different from who you used to be.”
“You mean in high school? I sure hope so. I’d hate to still be acting like a kid at my age.”
“I don’t know why I said that.” She felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. “I just . . . It’s just that there’s over ten years of my memories that don’t include anybody from Thunder Creek. When we came back, I only remembered you as you were back then. And now you are someone . . . different.”
He reached over and touched her shoulder with his fingertips. “I see what you mean.”
She hoped that was true, that he understood.
“I’d guess I’m more likable now too.”
She laughed softly.
“I wasn’t very friendly toward you back then. Chad was the charming one.”
“Yes.” The laughter died in her throat. “He was charming. Chad was always charming.” Charming and thoughtless and selfish and undependable.
An uncomfortable silence filled the cab.
“There are more important character attributes than charm.” She reached up and covered his hand with her own. “Like love and patience. Like kindness and faithfulness. Charm doesn’t hold up against those.” She wanted to add that those other words described him, but un
certainty kept her silent.
“Gran’s spotted us.” Derek withdrew his hand.
Brooklyn looked toward the house. Ruth stood on the front porch, the door open behind her.
“Come on. I’d better walk you up. We don’t want to worry her.”
As he had done earlier in the evening, he got out of the truck and came around to help her to the ground. But this time he didn’t offer his hand. Instead, after she turned sideways on the seat, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up and out, then slowly lowered her to the ground. Close to him. So very close to him.
“I don’t think Gran will mind if I make her wait a minute or two longer.” His voice was low and husky.
Until he kissed her, she hadn’t realized how much she’d been wanting him to do that again. No confusion this time. No wondering if it was the right thing to do. Only pleasurable sensations. Only a growing sense of belonging, right there in his arms.
Chapter 26
Over the following couple of weeks, a pathway became obvious in the field that separated Derek’s home from Brooklyn’s. Multiple times a day, someone walked one direction or the other across it. More often than not, the excuse was the upcoming campout. But that’s what it mostly was: an excuse.
Derek was no fool. He did his best not to put pressure on Brooklyn in any way, not to ask her for more in their budding relationship than she was ready to give. He watched for a signal that she would welcome another kiss and was frustrated that it hadn’t happened yet. On the other hand, she didn’t withdraw from those times when he touched her hand or her shoulder. She didn’t distance herself when he drew close to her, the way she had at first.
In the days that followed the vineyard concert, Derek and Brooklyn spent what time together they could. They shared a few meals. They watched a couple of movies on DVDs. Mostly they talked. About his family. About Alycia. About people they both knew in Thunder Creek.
But despite their growing closeness, Derek found that Brooklyn remained guarded when it came to talking about her dad or Chad or about what her years in Reno had been like. Sometimes he thought her wariness was more out of habit. At least he hoped so.
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