He stood up with clenched fists and a firm jaw. “I don’t think you really mean that, Dillon. I think you just want to see me crawling back to you.”
“No, I don’t.” She stood to face him. “I just want you to go back to Colorado. Find yourself another girl. What about Bethany Myers? I heard that—”
“Is that it?” he demanded loudly. “You’re jealous of Bethany? Because that was nothing. Just a little fling. If that’s what this is all about—”
“That’s not it, Brandon,” she said loudly. “Honestly, it’s not. I just want you to leave! Please, leave me alone.” The screen door squeaked open behind them and Dillon turned to see Grandpa’s silhouette in the doorway.
“You need to listen to my granddaughter,” he said in a firm voice. “She’s asking you to go, young man. And I think it’s high time you did.”
“Fine.” Brandon went down the steps. “But this doesn’t mean I’m giving up.” Before Dillon or Grandpa could respond, he stomped off to his car.
“Thanks, Grandpa,” she said quietly, choking back tears of frustration. “For some reason he just won’t listen to me.”
Grandpa came out to the porch, putting his arm around her. “It’s because he’s finally realized what he’s lost, Dillon. He knows what a fool he was to let you go.”
“Meanwhile I feel like I dodged a bullet.”
“Still, I can’t blame him for trying.” He lowered his voice. “Margot is certainly impressed with him.”
“Because Brandon’s won her over.” Dillon sighed. “Thanks for standing up for me just now. I really appreciate it.”
“I can’t deny that I’m impressed with his persistence. Seems bound and determined to win you back. Some young women would appreciate a man with that kind of devotion.”
“I’ll admit he’s stubborn.” She bit her lip. “But so am I.”
“Are you certain you don’t still have feelings for him? Margot thinks you’re just punishing him for what happened before.”
“Margot is wrong.”
“Well, unless I’m mistaken, you haven’t seen the last of that young man.”
“Do you think he’ll really stick around until the Fourth of July? Even after what I said to him?”
“You’re the one who said he’s stubborn. But you could have worse problems, Dillon.” Grandpa chuckled.
“Meaning?”
“Well, I sort of suspected you might have some, uh, feelings for Jordan Atwood. But maybe I’m wrong about that?”
Dillon let out a long sigh. “I actually thought, for a moment there yesterday, that Jordan might have feelings for me too.”
Grandpa sat down in a rocker. “Care for a bit of advice?”
“Sure.” She sat down.
“Well, when I was a young man, I had an interest in your grandma. But I suppose I was a little like Brandon. I took her for granted.”
“You took Grandma for granted?”
“Sadly, I did.” He nodded glumly. “But when I saw a buddy of mine going out with Marie, I was livid. I guess it was my wake-up call. I got off my hindquarters and made hasty work of winning her over.” He grinned. “And that was that.”
“That’s a good story, and I’m glad it turned out alright, but I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”
“Well, in this town, I suspect that Jordan Atwood is considered quite a catch. I spend a fair amount of time at Atwood’s and I’ve observed local women trying to win him over.”
“Yes, I’ve heard he’s one of Silverdale’s most eligible bachelors. Or as some say, he’s the town’s eternal bachelor.”
Grandpa chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“So what’s your point?”
“Well, Brandon’s persistence might just be what it takes to get Jordan’s attention. Sort of like my buddy and Marie. A wake-up call.”
Dillon didn’t like the sound of this but didn’t want to hurt Grandpa’s feelings. “Interesting theory.”
“Just saying.”
“Well, I’ll think about it,” she said.
“Good. Because if you ask me, Jordan Atwood is a good man.”
“Yeah, I think so too.” Dillon didn’t want to mention the fact that Jordan hadn’t stopped by the farm today. Or her disappointment that he hadn’t. While painting her trailer, she’d imagined him showing up unexpected in his old red truck. Harvey. She’d imagined his bright, easy smile and a kind offer to help. At first, she’d been almost certain that he’d show. But as the day wore on, she could think of a dozen reasons why he wouldn’t. And, of course, he didn’t.
She wished Jordan was as persistent as Brandon, but she knew it wasn’t Jordan’s style. He was a lot more laid-back. And sometimes a bit difficult to read. Not to mention the possible “unavailable” factor. Maybe he really was an eternal bachelor.
As she walked back to her trailer, she paused to watch a nearly full moon creeping up over the barn. How romantic. She could imagine a summer night like this with Jordan. She wondered if he might even be looking at the glowing moon right now. If somehow the luminous light could be connecting them. “Don’t be silly,” she told herself as she continued on to her trailer.
Inside her trailer, Dillon turned on the lights and smiled at the welcoming space. It really was sweet. Small perhaps, but everything she needed. Especially now that the appliances worked. Thanks to Jordan. Now she wondered about his invitation to give his trailer more personality. The thought definitely had intrigued her, but dismayed that he’d never stopped by today, she wondered if he was having second thoughts about her. Or perhaps she’d misread him completely. Maybe he simply wanted to engage her in a business relationship. In that case, it might be smart to simply step away . . . not give her heart any more opportunity to wander down another dead-end street.
As she climbed into her comfy bed, she considered Grandpa’s suggestion. Was it possible that Jordan really did need a little nudge? A wake-up call, like the one that pried Grandpa off his bachelor fence? That felt like game-playing . . . or even worse, manipulation. She hated the idea of toying with someone who appeared to be as genuine as Jordan Atwood. Especially if it meant involving Brandon to do it. She knew Grandpa meant well, but she also knew it was better to let life and love take its course.
CHAPTER
19
On Monday, after Janelle dropped the twins off at the pool and hurried off to a meeting, Dillon hoped that Uncle Jordan would pick them up. But to her disappointment, it was Janelle who came. She was as friendly and warm as ever. But she wasn’t Jordan.
Dillon tried not to show her dismay as she chatted with Jordan’s sister while the twins toweled off. She described the progress the girls were making. “It’s turned into a healthy competition,” she said quietly. “Chloe doesn’t want Emma to show her up, and that pushes Emma even harder. I expect they’ll both be swimming unassisted soon.”
“That’s wonderful.” Janelle smiled. “I’m so glad they had you for their instructor. Anyone else might’ve given up after Chloe’s first tantrum.”
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t. Their enthusiasm has become the inspiration for the others. Don’t tell, but it’s become my favorite class of the day.”
Janelle laughed. “Isn’t it your last class?”
Dillon nodded. “Yeah, that helps too.”
Janelle chatted a bit more as the twins pulled on their swimsuit covers. And, despite her curiosity, Dillon resisted the urge to ask about Jordan’s whereabouts yesterday . . . or anything else that would surely be considered overly inquisitive. After all, Janelle was not her brother’s keeper.
After grabbing a quick bite of lunch at one of the food trailers situated at the city park, Dillon went by the hardware store for a special brand of painting tape she’d read about online. Of course, she hoped to see Jordan there as well, but it was Ryan the paint guy who assisted her.
“What’s this for?” he asked as he directed her to the tape.
“For the accent stripe on my trailer.”
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“Cool.” He nodded. “So did you get the main body all painted already?”
“Yes. Your boss actually came by to lend me a hand.”
Ryan’s brows arched. “He did?”
“Yes. And he was very helpful.” She glanced around, hoping to spy Jordan coming down the main aisle.
“Well, he’s a trailer guy.” Ryan handed her a roll of tape. “Don’t forget to bring photos when you’re done. I want to see the final results.”
She thanked him and, with no sign of Jordan, paid for her purchase and headed home, telling herself not to think about it. Just because Jordan had been helpful didn’t mean anything. After all, it was his uncle’s old trailer. He probably just wanted to make sure she wasn’t ruining it. Besides, she had better things to do than pine over Jordan. Her trailer was calling!
By the time she finished the first coat on the stripe, she was more than a little excited. “Rose, you are turning into a real head-turner,” she declared. She stepped back to admire her work, knowing it would look even better when she removed the painter’s tape.
“Looking good.” Grandpa came over to her.
“And that’s just the first coat. It’ll be even better when I finish it. I think I’ll wait until after the Fourth. Give it a few days to cure.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Grandpa rubbed his chin. “I still think it’s interesting that you used turquoise for the stripe.”
“You mean because it’s different from the original color?” She wondered if he was disappointed. “I hope that doesn’t bother you. I did consider keeping it the way it was, but it just didn’t feel that cheerful and—”
“No, no, that’s not it. I like it a lot. But I’m still curious as to why you picked that color, Dillon. You could’ve painted it pink or red or orange, and it would’ve been okay. It’s your trailer.”
“Well, I think Rose looks sweet and cheerful like this.”
“I do too.” He nodded with approval.
She knelt down to put a lid on the paint can. “And I plan to paint the propane tanks turquoise too. I saw that in one of my vintage trailer books and it looked cute.”
“There’s a reason I asked you about the turquoise color you picked . . .” Grandpa’s grin looked a little sly.
“Uh-huh?” She stood up, trying to figure out what he was getting at. “And, oh yeah, I forgot. The real inspiration originally came from some of the vintage jewelry that Grandma left to me. Her turquoise and silver. It’s so pretty.”
“Well, that’s nice.” He adjusted the brim of his hat. “Wanna see something, Dillon?”
“Sure—what?”
“Come with me.” He led her around the back of the barn and over to the metal storage building that he used to store his tractor and oversized farm tools. “Seems to me that someone’s having a birthday this month.”
Dillon grinned. “You mean me?”
“Yep.” He rolled open a door.
“I know, I’m finally getting that pony!” she teased.
“You never wanted a pony,” he said. “Not that I ever heard tell of.”
She sighed. “Actually, I did want a pony. When I was a little girl and still living with Margot. But she said our apartment was too small.”
“Oh?” He frowned.
“By the time I came here to live with you and Grandma, I was too old for a pony.” She didn’t want to admit that she had wanted a horse by then, but she’d known moving in with her grandparents had been an imposition—Margot had made that clear—so she hadn’t wanted to press her luck.
“Well, this isn’t a pony, but it’s better suited to get your trailer around.” As the sunlight poured into the building, she caught a glimpse of what looked like vehicle wheels beneath a large brown tarp.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Jack’s old Chevy pickup. Remember, I said that he left it to me along with the trailer.”
“I guess I sort of forgot.”
He pulled off the tarp to reveal an old-fashioned turquoise-blue pickup. “Well, they were never a matched set . . . before. But sort of looks like they might be now.”
“What a cool truck.” She went closer to see it.
“Well, as you know, I don’t need another truck. My old Ford is as good as ever.”
“Yeah?” It seemed like too much to hope for . . . Dillon held her breath.
“Seeing how you have a birthday and you restored Jack’s old trailer, well, I think you should have this pickup to pull it with.”
“Oh, Grandpa.” She turned to look at him. “You mean it?”
“You bet I do. Happy birthday, Dillon.”
She threw her arms around him. “This is the best birthday present ever!”
He chuckled. “Never expected anyone to get that excited over Jack’s old truck, but I’m glad you like it.”
She was already opening the door, looking inside. It was pretty well worn, but charming. “This is perfect, Grandpa. Absolutely perfect.”
“I’m not sure how well it runs. Not that there’s anything wrong with it—and Jack was a mechanical fellow, always kept all his rigs in good working order, but it’s old and it’s been sitting out here for more’n a year. You should get it thoroughly checked out before you try to pull your trailer.”
“Of course.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “Not that I’m planning on taking Rose anywhere, not anytime soon. But if and when the day comes, it’ll be fantastic to pull her with this.” She looked at Grandpa. “I think I’ll name the pickup Jack.”
Grandpa’s laugh was hearty. “Well, that’s just about right. Because those two were a great pair. Kind of like Marie and me. But in real life it was usually Rose who was leading Jack around by the nose. Anyway, I think they’d both have a good chuckle over this. Rose over at the coast . . . and Jack up in heaven.”
“Well, it really is the best birthday present ever.”
“I kept it in here to protect it, but you can move it out anytime you want. Wouldn’t mind getting some more space in here. Keys are in the jockey box.”
“You mean the glove compartment?” she teased as she reached for the keys.
“Guess that’s what you gals call it. So do you know how to drive three-on-the-tree?”
“What?” She held up the keys.
“It’s how you shift gears. All on the steering column. Pretty simple, as long as you know how.”
“I don’t know how,” she confessed.
“Well, let me drive it out for you. Don’t want you to wreck my good tractor. Then I’ll give you some lessons.”
She got out of the driver’s seat, watching as he attempted to start the engine, but when it wouldn’t turn over, he explained it was probably a dead battery. “It’ll take a while to get it charged up good. And seeing it’s almost dinnertime, you’ll have to wait to try it out. How about we plan on tomorrow afternoon, when you’re done at the pool? Or if you want, we can wait until after the Fourth.”
“Whatever’s best for you,” she agreed. “Although I’m dying to drive it around. And I’d love to clean it up. Maybe even wax it.”
“I’m sure that’s not been done in the past few decades.”
“I’d like to get used to driving a pickup again. I haven’t driven one since back when I used to drive yours, Grandpa. And that was always fun.”
“Yeah, but mine’s an automatic. You’ll have to get used to this one.”
As they walked back to the house, Dillon could just imagine that cool vintage turquoise truck pulling her cool vintage trailer. They would be cuter than cute! But as far as the how-to part of towing a trailer . . . that was still pretty intimidating. Would she really be up to the task? Well, there should be plenty of time to figure that out.
Another day passed without Dillon seeing Jordan. Not that she had expected to see him since Janelle had remained to watch the girls’ lesson. But since she planned to stop by the hardware store before going home, she wasn’t giving up hope . . . yet. Dillon told her students go
odbye, reminding them there were no lessons until Monday due to the Fourth. She was just telling them to have a fun holiday when she noticed Brandon striding toward her. A slight shock wave ran through her. Why was he still here? She remembered his plan to stay in town until the Fourth, but she assumed his plans would change after she’d sent him packing on Sunday. Apparently not.
“Hey, Dilly.” He approached her with a broad smile. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” She wrapped the towel around her like a sarong. “What’re you doing here?”
“Came to see you.” His smile grew uneasy. Very un-Brandon-like. “I hope you don’t mind.”
She glanced around at the moms and kids. They were obviously watching her with open curiosity. “I don’t mind,” she said stiffly. “It’s a free country.”
He frowned. “That’s not very friendly.”
“Sorry.” She reached for her bag. “I need to go shower and dress if you’ll ex—”
“Nothing wrong with the outfit you’re wearing.” His brows arched. “Small town living agrees with you, Dilly. I never saw you look prettier—ever.”
“Well, uh, thanks.”
“But go ahead and change. I’ll wait for you.”
“You’ll wait?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to talk to you. You know, one last time. How about if we talk over lunch? And I promise to be perfectly civilized.”
“Well, I—”
“Come on, you gotta be hungry.”
Feeling all the kids’ and moms’ eyes on them, she just nodded, then scurried over to the shower room. As she showered and dressed, she reminded herself that he had said “one last time.” That was encouraging. Besides, he was right, she was hungry.
“Who’s that good-looking guy waiting for you in the lobby?” Chelsea asked as Dillon pulled on her sandals.
“He told you he was waiting for me?” Dillon frowned.
“Well, I asked if he needed help. He explained he was with you.” Chelsea winked. “He’s a looker alright.”
“I suppose.” She stuffed her wet things into her bag.
“You don’t sound very enthused.”
The Happy Camper Page 15