by Linda Ford
"I'm planning to spend a few days in Missoula."
That explained the call. Pops needed a favor. Not that he'd come right out and ask. He'd let you figure it out yourself. "You can stay with me," Steele said.
"Good. Are you prepared to put up with me for a week or two?"
Steele heard the note of caution in his grandfather's voice, and something else. Excitement maybe. "What are you up to?"
"Thought I'd go girling."
At the idea of his grandfather cruising the streets of Missoula trying to pick up 'girls' his age, Steele laughed out loud. "Sure, Pops."
The old man grunted. "Maybe I can show you how it's done and then you'll get off your duff and find a girl to marry. It's time you gave your father and mother some grandchildren. And me a great-grandchild while I'm still able to recognize him."
Whoa. The old man's slowing down—he used to jump right in there about marriage and kids. Took a whole minute this time.
"Three strapping young men," he'd say about Steele and his brothers. "And not one great-grandchild. Isn't it about time?" He'd look at each of them in turn, studying them like they'd neglected some important duty to the old man.
Good thing Steele and his brothers didn't take offense easily. They simply put it down to Pops’s crustiness and laughed it off.
Currently none of them were even married. Steele figured one failed marriage in the family was enough proof that some things were better left alone.
"Really, Grandpops, what's important enough to tear you away from the farm for a week?"
"Maybe two," Pops corrected. "It's kind of a reunion. Don't know if you're aware I spent a summer working in Missoula when I was a kid fresh out of school. Had a good time. Met some nice people. Plan to look some of them up. One in particular I was real fond of and hope to spend time with."
Steele contemplated his grandfather's words, tried to connect them with what he knew about the older man and felt like a link or two were missing. "Never knew you worked here. I always think of you on the farm."
"Yes, well it's been my home forever it seems. I plan to die here. But I think it could survive my absence for a week or two. You sure you're okay with my company that long?"
"I'm gone most of the day. You'll have the place to yourself." He thought of his grandfather's steadfast habit. "Only one request. No boots in the house."
The man grunted. "You expect me to walk around in my socks? A man could slip and fall doing that."
"Bring some good slippers. When will you be here?"
"Tomorrow. And get set for some serious girling." Pops sounded eager as a young pup released from a leash.
A picture of a wrinkled old woman, half deaf, smelling like liniment as she leered at Pops brought a burst of laughter from Steele. "I doubt we'd be looking for the same sort of girls."
Pops grunted. "I expect you to find your own girl. I'll just show you how it's done."
Steele still chuckled as they said goodbye. "Girling." He chortled. The pictures flooding his mind would make a great comedy film.
From his office the next morning, Steele watched Holly flitting about with her endless smile, dispensing pink flowers to everyone who sat at one of her tables. No more need to hang about the café. The banquet was organized. He'd succeeded in making sure it didn't turn all loveydovey and mushy. There'd be a good substantial meal, fun entertainment, and reasonable decorations. Yes, he'd done his job well. He could relax and let the rest of it fall together.
He stared at the pink flowers in the middle of each occupied table. For some reason, just the sight of them made him tense. Maybe it was because they seemed to represent all the things he didn't believe in—romance, living in unrealistic dreams, expecting magic every day of a marriage. The only successful marriages he'd seen were based on something far more solid—shared interests, mutual benefit, a love like the Bible talked about.
He turned back to the papers on his desk. He had appointments and no time to muse over such foolishness.
Several hours later, he glanced up again and saw Holly sitting alone at one of the tables, her laptop before her.
She looked toward his office. If he didn't know she couldn't see through the glass, he'd think their gazes had connected. He had a sudden desire for a good strong cup of coffee and headed across the street.
"Annie," Holly called, as she saw him approach. "Bring Steele his coffee." She nodded toward the chair opposite her, waited as if she expected him to have an announcement.
He mentally checked the to-do list for the banquet but couldn't think of anything he'd left undone.
Her expression grew quizzical. "I hear your grandfather is coming to town."
"Grandpops? Yeah. How would you know? You been tapping my phone line?"
She giggled. "As if I'd know how."
He fixed her with a demanding look. "How do you know he's coming?"
She sobered. "My grandmother told me."
He was missing something vital to understanding this conversation. "How would your grandmother know? Does she tap phone lines?"
She frowned in exasperation. "Surely you know they're meeting here this afternoon."
He knew how to keep his face expressionless, how to reveal nothing even when surprised. And her announcement certainly surprised him. Pops wasted no time with his 'girling' but how did he start before he even got to town? No wonder he thought Steele and his brothers slow. To Steele's knowledge, none of them had picked up a woman before appearing on the scene.
Holly's expression went from suspicion to impatience. Her eyes grew dark.
Maybe he wasn't hiding his surprise as well as he thought. "He said he was going girling. I thought he joked."
Her eyes darkened further as if he'd said something nasty.
"My grandmother told me she and your grandfather were friends more than fifty years ago. In fact, they were boyfriend, girlfriend. Young love, Nan said. Said she'd never forgotten him. He tracked her down through the family she worked for here and they want to meet again. See if they have that same old feeling."
He choked on a mouthful of coffee.
She jumped up, patted his back and made soothing noises though she patted a lot harder than he thought necessary and when she spoke again she sounded downright annoyed. "Why does it surprise you? You can't believe they might have enjoyed a little romance when they were young?"
"Pops? My Grandpops? You must have the wrong grandfather. He never loved anyone but my grandmother."
She sat down again. Stared at him hard enough that he wondered if she saw his bones beneath his skin. "Nan said she was meeting a man named Henry Davis who was planning to stay with his grandson, Steele Davis, a lawyer in Missoula. Now I ask you, does that sound like someone else's grandfather?"
"No, it doesn't."
"Nan wants to recreate some of the events from back then."
He suddenly leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he realized what she'd said. What kind of scheme had she and her grandmother cooked up? "She's doing what?"
"They're meeting here. Then they plan to visit some of the places they enjoyed when they were young." She seemed not to notice the way his mouth tightened, and forged on with what he could only call belligerence. "Nan says they want to find out if the spark between them is still there. Isn't that cool? I can't think of anything more romantic than rediscovering an old love. Imagine, maybe they've loved each other all these years."
"That's disgusting. They've both married someone else and raised a family. Besides it was half a century ago. How can anyone in their right mind think they can turn the clock back?"
Her eyes flared. Dull red stained the tips of her ears. She sat as rigid and straight as the wall beside her. Just when he thought she would explode like an over inflated balloon, she let out a whoosh and spoke in slow, measured tones. "Look, I realize this doesn't fit into your view of love and romance."
She had that right.
"But I think they deserve to find out if there's still that spark, as Nan s
aid. I intend to do everything I can to help them."
He snorted. "No doubt you'll give them your most private table and a pink carnation. Or will you give them a little bouquet because it's such a special occasion?" He felt a surge of victory when she ground out a sound of exasperation. He couldn't help a secret smile at the way her eyes flashed daggers.
"Maybe I'll buy them a dozen red roses."
"And give them a card full of sappy love sayings." His harsh tones said what he thought of that idea.
She pushed to her feet and lurched to his side. "Sappy? There is nothing sappy about love and romance."
He stilled the desire to put distance between them. "Romance is impractical."
Holly scowled at him.
He didn't much care for the way she breathed hard, curled and uncurled her fists. He stood, exhibiting no rush, though he couldn't wait to escape her presence. Pink flowers and sappy cards? And to think, not too many minutes ago he'd been imagining how pleasant it would be to visit Holly over coffee with no particular agenda between them. "I don't know what your grandmother has in mind but I won't stand by and see my grandfather become a victim of some scheming woman."
She measured her words out one by one as if squeezing them past an asthma attack. "Make that two scheming women because I intend to help her all I can."
He gave her a look meant to stop her before she could say anything more.
She ignored his silent warning. "You call yourself a lawyer yet you ignore the facts. Number one, no one is forcing your grandfather to meet my grandmother. You might ask him who made the first contact. Two, I don't know about your grandfather but my grandmother is perfectly capable of making her own choices. Nobody will coerce her into doing something she doesn't want to."
Her arguments carried the ring of truth but Steele didn't care. He had the incredible urge to bang his head against the nearest planter at Holly's blind belief in all this—he glanced around—flowery stuff.
He stalked away. Anger jabbed at him like a hot nail to his heart. Romance was one thing and pink flowers part of it. But turning her romantic notions toward his grandfather, aiding and abetting her desperate grandmother—no way. He would not, could not, in a million years stand by and let those women create a romantic trap to catch his poor grandfather. Sure, the man was strong physically. But he'd lost the love of his life recently. How often had Pops told Steele and his brothers that Grandma had saved him? "She came into my life when I was going through a tough time. I'd had my heart hurt. Thought I'd never be able to love again. Even wondered if life was worth living. Your grandmother changed all that. God bless her."
Maybe his grandfather thought he could replace Grandma and put an end to his mourning. But Pops had to understand it wasn't that easy.
Was Holly's grandmother the woman who'd broken Pops’s heart? If so, Steele didn't intend to stand idly by and let it happen again.
How could he stop it? As Holly so angrily pointed out, their grandparents were capable of making their own choices.
Only one way he could think to put a monkey wrench in this whole business. He'd stick close to Pops. Run interference on his behalf.
But Pops would not welcome such action.
Steele remembered Pops's invitation to go girling together. It provided the perfect set up. He'd let the old man think he'd taken up the offer. Maybe even let him think he was interested in Holly.
That ought to give him a chance to keep an eye on the proceedings. Holly had a head full of dreams but Steele had the mind of a lawyer. He'd make sure Pops didn't get swept off his feet—willingly or unwillingly.
He intended to be ready. He canceled his afternoon appointments, shifted his chair so he could look up every minute for a quick study of the café, and pulled out some files to work on. Not that he got anything accomplished with his thoughts jumping across the street to the pending meeting.
He saw several older ladies stop for coffee but none lingered unusually long.
Around four o'clock, he watched a slender woman with a floppy red hat stop at the café. Holly hurried out and hugged the woman, nudging the hat askew.
Had to be the scheming grandmother. "The eagle has landed," he muttered. Perfect timing for tea and crumpets. Though he'd never actually met a real-life crumpet.
Holly led the woman to a table.
Steele's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he saw she'd arranged the planters to provide living walls around the table. Subtle? Not Holly. She might as well hang a flashing neon sign—Old Loves Rekindled Here—proclaiming her intention to see this poor old couple drowning in romance.
Well, not if he had anything to say about it. And he would.
Pops sauntered up, rolling on his cowboy boots with all the swagger of a man fifty years younger.
Steele groaned. Even without seeing his face, Steele could tell Pops was as eager as a young buck. An easy mark for two women. He'd probably be on one knee before Steele could intervene.
Holly glanced toward his office windows, a silent challenge. She might as well have waved a red flag, or slapped him with a leather glove.
With a muttered warning, he charged down the stairs ready to duel.
Holly took Nan a cup of rooibos tea. "It's so good to see you. I can hardly wait to share your favorite spots with you." She paused as Nan glanced past her. "Of course you might not be wanting my company."
"Nonsense, child. I'm too old to be all—what is it that movie says?—twitterpated about a man."
Holly hid a smile. Nan might believe she was too old to be excited but she perched on the edge of her chair and her gaze darted past Holly.
Holly knew without turning the moment Mr. Davis stepped into view. Nan froze. Her cheeks stained a dull red. Holly lurched to Nan's side, fearing she would faint. Nan fluttered a hand, her eyes never shifting from the man on the sidewalk.
Slowly, Holly turned, prepared to take a good hard, impartial look at the man who after fifty years had the power to render Nan speechless. There might have been a spark back then but who knows how the man had changed.
She tried to do a detached assessment. Tall and rangy. A full head of silver hair, eyes as hazel as Steele's. But at the look of wonder and longing and uncertainty in his eyes, Holly lost all ability to be critical. This man adored her Nan. Nothing else mattered.
"Mr. Davis." She held out her hand. "I'm Holly Hope, Jean's granddaughter. Please have a chair. What can I bring you?"
The man slowly pulled his gaze toward Holly. He held her hand between his and examined her closely. When he smiled, she felt as if she'd met his favor in some way. "You're very much like your grandmother when I first knew her. You have the same kind smile."
At that moment, Holly blessed this man and silently prayed God would grant the older couple renewed love.
Mr. Davis turned his attention back to Nan and slowly crossed to the table. "Jean, I'd have known you anywhere." He took her hand and smiled into her eyes. "You're as beautiful as I remember."
At the look of shy pleasure in Nan's face, Holly pressed her lips together and widened her eyes to keep them from tearing.
The man chuckled as Nan ducked her head. "And just as shy."
Nan laughed. "And you, Henry, are just as full of nonsense as I recall. It's good to see you."
They smiled at each other.
"You going to stand all day or have a seat?" Nan asked.
Mr. Davis laughed heartily. "I see you've added a little vinegar to the mix." He sat in the chair across the tiny table.
"What will you have, Henry. Coffee, tea or—"
Holly choked back a laugh at the bright color racing up Nan's face.
"You?" Mr. Davis finished. "How about two out of three? I'll have whatever she's having," he said, without taking his gaze off Nan.
Holly hurried to get a pot of tea and put a plate of mixed cookies before the pair. "There you go, Mr. Davis."
Nan smiled up at Holly, her eyes shining like bits of starlight. "Thank you, dear."
Holly winked and squeezed Nan's hand.
"Make it Henry," Mr. Davis said. "This looks delicious. Thank you." But Holly noted he didn't even look at what she'd placed before him.
She slipped away and joined Meggie behind the counter. "Here's hoping no one else comes for awhile so they can enjoy some time alone together."
"Uh oh. You spoke too soon." Meggie nodded toward the door.
Steele headed across the street like a steamroller, ready to flatten everything in sight. Half way across he slowed, hesitated. If she wasn't mistaken, he sucked in breath like a spent runner. Then he smiled, and continued toward her, slow and easy as if he had nothing more on his mind than a nice social visit.
Holly knew better. She'd seen the look in his eyes before he masked it. If ever a man was bent on putting an end to romance, Steele was that man. She met him at the edge of the sidewalk. "Come on inside and I'll get you coffee." She grabbed his elbow and steered him toward the door.
He refused to be steered. "I saw Pops come here." He tried to edge around the planter blocking his view.
"He and my grandmother are having tea. Let's leave them alone for a few minutes."
He gave her a look of disbelief. "Pops would have a fit if he knew I was here and just ignored him. You're not busy. Why don't you join us?"
"Yes, why don't you two join us instead of muttering out there," Nan called.
"Steele, get in here. I want to show off my grandson," Henry growled.
Steele grinned at Holly. "Care to say no?"
Holly rolled her eyes. "And incur Nan's wrath? I don't think so." But she didn't care for the gleam in Steele's eyes. He might have won this round, but only by default.
"Me either. Pops can still wield a big stick." He waved her ahead of him.
Meggie, a laugh in her voice, called from inside. "I'll bring you both a coffee."
Steele grabbed two chairs and shoved them up to the table. He sat beside his grandfather. Henry cupped his hand over the back of Steele's neck. "Jean, this is my grandson. His office is right across the street."
Holly felt two pairs of eyes swing from Steele to herself and then the older couple looked at each other, some silent message communicated.