“Thanks for your patience!” he called out. Jordan hopped back into his pickup and, with Vivian by his side, took off.
She watched as his pickup went down the street and the clogged traffic moved along. Thinking he might circle the block and return to check on her, she waited a few minutes. But after a while, she realized he was gone. He’d done his good deed, and obviously he and Vivian had more important things to attend to. Well, fine. Whatever. She didn’t need to sit around moping about it. And why shouldn’t he be involved with Vivian? After all, they had much in common. Like him, she had her own business and owned a vintage trailer, and they were connected to the same people . . . Why shouldn’t they go out together? Still, Dillon felt keenly disappointed as she drove home. She also felt slightly irritated at Jordan . . . as if he’d been stringing her along.
She chided herself for her bad feelings. She should be grateful for his assistance, not irritated. But it was unsettling to see him with Vivian like that. Had she completely misread Jordan last weekend? If he had no feelings for her, why had he been so warm and friendly and helpful? Why had he wanted to know so much about her and tried to draw her out? Had she imagined he’d wanted something more than just casual friendship? Was she really that naïve? That was the obvious answer. Based on his chilly treatment in front of the Cream Cup, not to mention his date, he had zero interest now. And she should just get over it.
But it was still disturbing. Oddly enough, it made Brandon appear that much better. Especially after he’d been the perfect gentleman today. Not that Dillon had any intentions of getting back with him. She did not. Despite Chelsea’s insinuation that they couldn’t be choosy when it came to potential male attention, Dillon didn’t feel that desperate. But she did feel confused.
CHAPTER
21
After spending the evening and following morning cleaning, waxing, and polishing her old pickup, Dillon couldn’t wait to drive it. Fortunately, the battery was working just fine now, and Dillon had agreed to meet Chelsea in town.
First on their agenda today was the Fourth of July parade. Dillon couldn’t help but smile at the small-town charm of marching bands, dance teams, old cars, homemade floats, and the exact same things she remembered from her youth.
“You should be driving your pickup in this,” Chelsea told Dillon as several old-timer trucks rolled by. “You could’ve represented the swimming program with a bunch of pool kids in the back.”
“Maybe next year,” Dillon said.
“Seriously? You think you’ll still be around by then?”
Dillon shrugged. “I kinda hope so.” She pointed to a pickup with Boy Scouts dressed like forest animals.
“Maybe we could have the pool kids dress up like fish or mermaids or something aquatic.”
“Fabulous idea.” Chelsea nodded. “I hope you’re still here next year. I’ll put you in charge.”
“Hey, there’s the twins.” Dillon waved at Emma and Chloe as they marched with a group of little majorettes, attempting to spin mini-batons and chasing them as they spun out of control. “This is all adorable.”
“Nothing has changed,” Chelsea said after she snapped several pictures of her sister on the Parks and Recreation float. “It’s like a time warp.”
As usual, the parade ended with the small fleet of fire engines sounding loud horns and sirens. “That was fun,” Dillon told Chelsea. “I’m glad you talked me into coming.” She glanced through the crowd lining both sides of Main Street. “I’m just glad I didn’t run into Brandon. And, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take off before that happens.”
“So how did it go yesterday?” Chelsea asked as they went to the parking lot where they’d met earlier.
“Brandon took me to McLaughlin’s.”
“I’m jealous. I’ve been dying to go there ever since I moved back to town. How was it?”
“The place is absolutely gorgeous and the food is great. The whole thing went surprisingly well.”
“So, maybe you want to rethink your plans for dumping the poor guy?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I have to admit, he was very decent yesterday.” Dillon controlled herself from adding that he’d been much more congenial than Jordan Atwood. “But, while we’re on the topic, I’ll warn you that he plans to go to the dance tonight. So we’ll probably cross paths. Hey, maybe we can take turns dancing with him. He’s not a bad dancer actually.”
“You won’t have to twist my arm,” Chelsea said as they paused by the parking lot next to Atwood’s. “I don’t know about you, but I plan to dress up a little. Nothing fancy, but I feel like wearing a summery dress. More fun for dancing.” She nudged Dillon. “How about you?”
Dillon thought. “I’m storing most of my clothes in the barn. You know, my trailer space is pretty limited. To be honest, I don’t even own a summer dress.”
“How’s that possible?”
Dillon shrugged. “I had mostly business clothes for during the week, and jeans and casual clothes for the weekends.”
“Well, we’re still about the same size. How about if I bring you a dress?”
“Oh, I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
“No trouble. I’ll bring it by around seven, and then we can go to town together and make a big splash. That’ll be fun.”
Dillon still wasn’t sure about the borrowed dress—was it too much for her? But Chelsea looked so hopeful. “Okay. I guess that’ll work.”
“Great. And how about the picnic today? Are you going?”
“It might be fun. How about you?”
“Yeah, I promised my sister I’d manage the dessert table. Parks and Rec is the main sponsor. Hey, you want to help?”
Dillon gladly agreed, then nodded over to Atwood’s. “Looks like the hardware store is open today. I think I’ll go take a look at those outdoor chairs out in front,” she said. “I could use some outside my trailer.”
“Then I’ll see you at one,” Chelsea told her.
As Dillon walked to Atwood’s she knew that she was looking for more than just a cute lawn chair or two. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment, but she hoped to see Jordan. And she was determined not to act overly friendly this time. She would simply thank him for his help yesterday—and be on her way. That is, if he were here.
As she examined the outdoor furniture more closely, she was pleasantly surprised to see they were having a one-day-only Fourth of July sale. When she saw their selection of all-weather chairs in the color she wanted, a bright coral orange that would look perfect outside of her trailer, she decided to get them. She found a few other outdoor things as well—feeling really glad she’d stopped by.
“Can I help you?”
She looked up from a side table she was considering to see Jordan looking at her with an amused expression. She smiled politely. “No, I think I’ve decided on the pieces I want to get. Do I just go inside and tell the cashier?”
“Or I can write them up for you out here.” He pulled out a little pad.
“Thank you.” She pointed out the coral chairs and a few other things she wanted, and as he wrote it all down, she thanked him for helping with her pickup yesterday. “I really appreciated it. And I was sorry you got your good clothes dirty. You looked like you were going somewhere special too. I hope that didn’t make a problem—”
“Actually, I’d just come from a chamber meeting.”
“Chamber?”
“Chamber of Commerce. I don’t usually get that dressed up, but they’d elected me as the new president, so I thought I should try to look the part.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Was that meeting out at McLaughlin’s?”
“Yep. In fact, I saw you and Brandon out on the deck. Looked like you were having a pretty good time.”
She studied his expression, trying to discern whether she was imagining it, or if he was actually jealous. “Brandon only asked me to lunch in order to tell me goodbye,” she said in an even and hopefully disinterested tone.
&n
bsp; “Looked more like he was saying hello.” Jordan’s smile looked fixed.
“Well, I’m sure he was hoping for something more, but I tried to make it clear that the past was the past . . . and that I want to move on.” She looked down at the sidewalk, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious.
“So, is this all you want?” He held up the slip of paper.
“I, uh, I guess so.” She glanced around. “I plan to put these outside my trailer. You know, to create an outdoor living space.”
“Nice.” He pointed to another section out front. “All our outdoor lighting and grills and everything are on sale today too. Good time to pick up some bargains.”
“Oh?” She went over to look at a rack. “These are cool.” She picked up a box of outdoor lights. “I could string them outside my trailer.”
“Do you have an awning?” he asked. “They’d look great hanging from that.”
“No. But I hope to get one. I’ve seen some pretty cute ones in my vintage trailer books.”
“You should check out this website.” He wrote something down on a card and handed it to her. “They’re well-made and affordable.”
“Thanks.” She had several items in her hands now.
“How about if I take these inside for you,” he said in a friendlier tone. Had her words about cutting ties with Brandon made a difference? Or was he just helping a customer?
Once her selections were made, Dillon was paying for her purchase at the cash register when Jordan reappeared. “Need any help getting these things loaded up?”
“I was hoping I could pull the pickup up to the store, but looks like there’s no room out there.” She explained where she was parked.
“I’ll help you get it over there,” he offered.
After two trips, everything was loaded in the pickup bed. “Looks like you cleaned up the old truck.”
“Yes, I wanted to get Jack looking good. Couldn’t let Rose show him up.”
Jordan grinned. “So you named him Jack. That’s nice.” He ran his hand over the recently polished hood. “This original paint job is holding up alright. But then Uncle Jack usually parked it under cover.”
Dillon jumped at the sound of a loud bang nearby. “Oh—that must be a firecracker,” she said with relief. “I forgot it’s the Fourth.”
“Did you see the parade?” he asked, obviously in no hurry to get back to the store.
“Yes. And I saw your nieces too. I’d forgotten how sweet a small-town parade could be. Did you see it?”
“Yep. From in front of the store. Wouldn’t miss it. Are you going to any of the other festivities?”
She told him she was planning to help Chelsea with the picnic. “And she and I are going to the dance together. Stag.” Hopefully that didn’t sound like a hint . . . or like she was desperate.
“I thought I might check it out too. I hear the band’s supposed to be good.”
“Cool.” She nodded, trying to think of something else to say.
“Well, I better get back to work. We’re only open until four today. But campers always appreciate being able to pick up whatever it was they forgot at home.” He tipped his head. “See you later.”
She smiled and thanked him again for helping her. And she continued to smile all the way back to the farm. Maybe she had given up too soon on Jordan Atwood. Maybe he had simply been scared off by Brandon. And really, who could blame him?
By the time she got her hardware store purchases unloaded, she was sorely tempted to get them all set up—and play “outdoor house.” But it was almost time to return to town and she wanted to put on something cooler. With the hope of seeing Jordan again, she decided to freshen up some. And since the day was growing hot, she decided to pamper herself by taking her car—and turning up the AC.
As she drove back to town, she hoped she wasn’t setting herself up for heartache again, but Jordan appeared to be back to his old self. She wasn’t sure if it was explained by her grandpa’s theory about jealousy—and she hoped not—but she did feel that Jordan had needed some reassurance. And she planned to give it to him.
Dillon was just entering the city park, which was already getting crowded, when Brandon came over to join her. Like the other day, he was dressed in casual Western wear again. But it still looked totally out of character for a guy like Brandon. “Hey, Dillon. Are you here for the picnic? I hear the barbecued chicken is killer.”
She explained that she wasn’t here to eat. “I’m volunteering with Chelsea. But I hope you enjoy it.”
He frowned. “So they don’t let the volunteers eat?”
Her smile was polite. “I really don’t know.” She pointed to the food tables. “But I see Chelsea. I better go help her.”
“Guess I’ll see you later,” he said, looking disappointed.
“Sure. Later.” She nodded then hurried away. She really didn’t want to be rude, but she wished he’d take her rejection more seriously. As she helped set up and organize the dessert table, Chelsea questioned her about Brandon.
“I saw him trailing you over here.” Chelsea set a piece of chocolate cake on a paper plate. “And, don’t look now, but he seems to be keeping a close eye on you.”
“I don’t know why he doesn’t give up. I’ve made it perfectly clear.”
“Apparently he’s smitten.”
“Or he just wants what he can’t have.” Dillon cut into a pie. “I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. He’s very competitive. I’m guessing if I’d played hard-to-get a year ago, we’d have been married by now.”
“Maybe you need to try some reverse psychology.” Chelsea chuckled. “Act like you’re really into him and can’t wait to tie the knot—maybe he’ll take off running.”
Dillon actually considered this. “Interesting idea. But I don’t know . . .” She handed a piece of apple pie to an elderly gentleman. “Enjoy,” she told him. “Sure smells good.”
As they continued serving dessert, Dillon considered Chelsea’s suggestion. Perhaps it would work, but Dillon did not want to play games. Not with Brandon any more than she wanted to with Jordan.
“Looks like most people have been served,” Chelsea told her. “Feel free to go grab some food—if there’s anything left.”
“How about if I get us both some,” Dillon offered. “We can take turns eating.”
“Great.”
Dillon headed for the chicken first, but trying to balance two plates and get food and drinks for two was tricky. And that’s when Brandon appeared. “Could you use a spare hand?” He reached for a plate. “Looks like you’re hungry.”
She smirked at him. “One of these is for Chelsea.”
“That’s a relief. I’d hate to think you’ve turned into such a porker.” He chuckled like this was clever.
“No worries.” She scooped some potato salad onto both plates. “But, as you know, I’ve always had a healthy appetite.”
“Something I’ve always admired.”
“Right.” She set a roll on both plates. “I can remember you teasing me before, Brandon. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
His lower lip jutted out. “That was then, Dillon. This is now.”
She was just putting green salad on her plate when she felt someone watching her. She looked up to see Jordan less than twenty feet away. Smiling, she wanted to wave, but her hands were full. And then, just like that, he turned and walked away. Great. Had she managed to alienate him again? Or maybe Brandon had sent him a signal. Although Brandon was so focused on salad dressing, he appeared oblivious. Maybe that was a good thing. She didn’t want him to think he was winning.
Brandon carried the plate for Chelsea back to the dessert tent. But instead of going on his merry way while they ate, he continued to hang around. And when people came for desserts, seeing that Chelsea and Dillon were eating, he stepped in to help. Naturally, Chelsea thought that was charming and didn’t mind saying so.
“I hear you’re going to meet us at the dance tonight,” she told Brandon as they were
cleaning up. “And that you’re a good dancer.”
“Now who said that?” Brandon winked at Dillon.
“I promised Chelsea that we’d share you,” Dillon told him. “I hope you don’t mind.”
He looked uncertain, but nodded. “That sounds like fun.”
Dillon turned to Chelsea. “Looks like things are under control here. Especially with Brandon to help. Do you mind if I take off? I have some things I need to take care of on the farm.”
“No problem. Take off. I’ll see you later tonight.” Chelsea grinned at Dillon. “And I’ll keep Brandon busy packing this stuff up.”
Dillon patted Brandon on the back. “So glad you offered to help.” And not giving him a chance to back out of his forced volunteerism, she hurried away. But instead of feeling pleased with herself, she felt discouraged. Jordan probably thought she was totally flaky. One moment she was telling him that Brandon was history, the next moment she appeared to be sharing lunch with him—again. Would she ever get this right?
CHAPTER
22
Back at the farm, with several hours to kill before tonight’s dance and fireworks show, Dillon decided to set up her outdoor space. She put her bargain purchases into place, arranging the chairs and table just so. But somehow it just didn’t look quite right—the concrete pad and metal building wasn’t a very pretty backdrop. She looked over to what used to be one of her favorite spots. Not far from the barn, a grove of aspen trees and the irrigation pond looked temptingly perfect. She wondered if Grandpa would mind if she moved her “camp” over there.
Spotting Grandpa’s pickup just pulling up to the farm, she went over to meet him. “So how’d you like that picnic?” she asked as they went into the kitchen.
“Not bad. But I think the chicken was a little overdone this year.”
“Better than underdone.”
“That’s true,” he agreed. As he filled a glass with water, she told him about her idea to relocate her trailer. “Can’t see any problem with that.” He swigged the water. “I think we can even stretch an extension cord and hose that far.”
The Happy Camper Page 17