Everlasting Love

by Linda Ford

  "Jean and I have been talking," Henry said. "I'd like to reintroduce her to Missoula. A lot has changed in half a century."

  Holly grinned at the way the older two smiled at each other. She glanced at Steele and saw a speculative look in his eyes. When he saw her watching, he smoothed away the tightness and smiled.

  "I expect everything has changed," he said, his voice flat.

  Holly wasn't fooled by his relaxed manner. She heard the warning in his voice, knew he had opposition on his mind. She narrowed her eyes and silently informed him she would not let him ruin this reunion. "Anything I can do to help, just ask."

  "Actually," Nan said, "We'd like you to join us tomorrow."

  "Not a problem." Tomorrow was Sunday and she didn't open the café on Sundays. She'd enjoy spending part of the day with them if they didn't mind.

  "Both of you," Henry added.

  Holly met Steele's eyes, felt his tension in the way his smile tightened at the corners, the way his pupils narrowed.

  "Sounds like a plan," he said.

  A plan? Yeah right. She could just imagine his plan. Did he figure to run interference? How? She jerked her chin just a fraction of an inch. Whatever he planned, she would be there to make sure the day went as Nan and Henry hoped.

  "We met at church," Nan said. "We were both at loose ends so decided to spend the day together."

  "We went on a picnic." Henry chuckled. "Kind of spontaneous. I think we had peanut butter sandwiches."

  "I begged some cookies from my employers."

  "Wasn't it the pastor who introduced us?"

  Nan chuckled. "He probably felt sorry for us alone in the big city."

  Henry slapped his thighs. "We want to go to church and then have a picnic. Just like that first day."

  Holly sighed. "It sounds so romantic. But you don't need two other people with you."

  Nan waved away her protests. "Nonsense. It will be fun to have a couple of young people along, won't it, Henry?"

  "Can't think of anything better." He leaned toward Steele and lowered his voice to a gentle rumble. "I just might be able to teach this boy a thing or two."

  Steele pushed back in his chair and cast a glance around as if hoping to escape.

  Holly had never seen a man look so embarrassed and frightened at the same time and she couldn't help but laugh.

  He shot her a look full of sharp protest and warning.

  She covered her mouth and tried to swallow her amusement. Her eyes stung with the effort.

  "Pops," he managed to growl. "I don't need your help."

  Henry shifted his gaze toward Holly. Her laugh died a sudden death at the look in the old man's eyes.

  "Maybe you don't at that. You have a nice little gal here."

  Holly gasped. "I'm not—"

  Steele laughed. She resisted an urge to toss the rest of her coffee at him and drown the sound. "She's a little shy."

  Henry nodded. "Just like her grandmother."

  Holly sputtered. "That's not—" How dare Steele let Nan and Henry think there was something between them.

  Steele leaned over and patted the back of her hand. "It's okay, Holly. We can go along with the grandparents and enjoy ourselves."

  "Yes, dear. I'm sure you can." Nan gave her a warm smile.

  Holly sent Steele a look she hoped would burn his mind like a splash of acid. Got an unconcerned shrug. Ohh, the man was impossible.

  He leaned back and smiled like a cat full of cream. "Of course if you're busy I'm sure we can have fun without you."

  As if she'd let him hang around the older couple alone. She could just imagine how he'd throw cold water on any romantic overtures.

  "I'm not busy. I'll be glad to go along." Two could play this game. "I can prepare the meal. That is if you don't object to something a little nicer than peanut butter sandwiches."

  Henry gave a roaring laugh. "Little lady, I'd appreciate something a little nicer. How about you, Jean?"

  "That would be fine."

  "Great." Holly gave Steele a smile full of victory.

  He nodded, his answering smile not revealing any hint of defeat.

  "We should move along and make way for other customers," Nan said.

  "Let me show you downtown Missoula," Steele's grandfather said.

  Holly waited until the older couple was out of earshot before she confronted Steele. "I don't know what you're doing letting them assume we're such good friends. But I won't let you ruin this for them.

  "Me?" He pressed his hand to his chest as if suffering a sudden pain. "I just want to join in the fun. Why would you think otherwise?"

  She could not stop her eyes from squinting up and her mouth from puckering. "You want me to believe you're not opposed to a romance between them?"

  "Holly, Holly, Holly." He patted her shoulder in a grandfatherly gesture. "Let yourself enjoy the day without all that suspicion. After all, aren't you the purveyor of romance around here? Wouldn't want to ruin that, would we?"

  "Ohh. You are up to something. I know it."

  He slowly faced her. "I guess that gives me an advantage because I do know what you're up to."

  She stared at him. "Me?" His eyes narrowed and turned cold hazel. He suspected—that was crazy. "You really think Nan and I are out to get your grandfather? Open your eyes, Mr. Lawyerman. I don't think your grandfather is needing any help from me."

  She felt the heat of his anger burning from his eyes. They faced each other, taking measure, assessing the enemy. Suddenly she laughed. "Nope, I don't think he needs any help. It's going to be fun to sit back and watch." She jabbed a finger at him. "Pay attention. You just might learn a thing or two." She laughed again at the fury in his expression.

  He jerked around and stalked back to his office.

  "Meggie, give me a hand. I have to prepare a picnic for tomorrow." She chuckled. This was going to be a picnic to remember.

  5

  Steele hurried home earlier than usual. It had taken all of thirty seconds of watching Pops at the café to realize the old man was ready for plucking. Almost begging for it, in fact. Steele's plan to be invited along had succeeded. Both grandparents believed he and Holly had more than a passing interest in each other, but unfortunately his plan had its flaws. How could he keep an eye on Pops when Steele had office hours and commitments? He couldn’t. So on to plan B—convince Pops he should forget this whole idea of reviving a fifty-year-old romance.

  For some reason that now made no sense, Steele expected Pops to be home waiting for him. He wasn't and didn't show up until almost seven.

  Pops grunted when Steele pointed at the cowboy boots, then grabbed a chair and sat down to tug them off. He pulled rubber-soled slippers from a bag. "Had to go buy these."

  "I saved you some dinner," Steele said, pointing to the congealing chicken and fries.

  "I've eaten. And probably a good thing if that's all you have to offer." He shuddered. "Not so good for a man's arteries."

  "So I heard."

  "You're thirty in a few more months. Time to start taking care of yourself."

  Steele tried to remember a single fat-free meal on the ranch and failed. "You still eat half a cow at every meal?"

  Pops made a rude noise. "My beef is home raised. The best you can find."

  Steele shrugged and threw the leftovers in the garbage. He couldn’t imagine what Pops had being doing since he'd last seen him but how do you cross-examine your own grandparent? Someone who would as soon wrestle a cow as call your name? And then the old man beat him to the draw.

  "You never told me about Holly. You been keeping secrets from an old man? That's not nice, you know."

  Steele drew back and studied Pops to see if he was serious. Far as he could tell, he was. Steele shook his head. "You're one to talk. How long have you kept your secret romance hidden? Did Grandma know about Jean?"

  Pops slapped his palms down on the counter with a resounding thwack. If Steele hadn't known known how to keep his face and body under control
, he would have cringed. He was almost certain his eyes would have given him away if Pops had cared to notice. He didn't.

  "Now listen here, boy. I loved your grandmother. Never cheated on her in thought or deed. She was a good woman. Saved me from myself on more occasions than I care to remember."

  "Jean is the woman who left you whipped and broken, isn't she?" He didn't need Pops's answer to know it was true. But perhaps reminding his grandfather would make him see how foolish this whole thing was.

  "Boy, we aren't going to discuss things that aren't any of your business."

  "Maybe I'm making it my business to see you don't buy yourself a heap of trouble. What makes you think it won't happen again?"

  Pops grunted. "Seems I'm old enough to take care of myself."

  "What is it you always say? 'No fool like an old fool?'"

  "If you're suggesting I'm making a fool of myself—" Suddenly Pops chuckled. "Maybe I am at that. And I'm here to tell you, I don't mind a bit. Sometimes, young man, you need to give your emotions some freedom." He squinted hard at Steele.

  Steele groaned. Here it came. The lecture on how he needed to get off his duff and charm some little gal into marrying him. Before Pops could deliver the message, Steele defended himself. "I don't intend to ever let my emotions rule my head."

  "Well then, there's your trouble but I see the way you look at little Holly. Might be she's just the one to make you forget all your hard and fast rules."

  Steele stuffed back his frustration. The old man was beyond reasoning with. Which made it all the more necessary for Steele to run interference. Back to plan A. "Yeah, Pops. You could be right." Let Pops think Holly held an alluring interest for Steele. That way he could hope to be included in their outings—at least the evening ones and wouldn't that be when all the lovey-dovey stuff took place? He'd just keep an eye on Pops and those two women. Make sure their feet remained on the ground as firmly as his own. Pops would explode like one of his angry bulls if he knew Steele intended to see this little holiday didn't turn into déjà vu all over again. Steele didn't intend to tell him.

  Pops perched on one of the stools and leaned both elbows on the counter. "Now tell me about Holly. She seems like a nice girl. I can see though that you need some help in wooing her. My guess is she's the kind of gal that likes to be made to feel special."

  Let Pops think he could help Steele, but frustration rose in Steele's throat. This plan was going to prove a real challenge.

  Steele followed his grandfather into the pew. The old man slipped past Holly and sat on the other side beside Jean. That left Steele to sit beside Holly. Pops was anything but subtle but not a problem. Let Pops think, let them all think, he joined them because he embraced this romantic stuff.

  Holly glowed with some sort of inner excitement. She stole glances at him out of the corner of her eyes, each time her eyes flashing light.

  It made his skin itch. He rubbed his chin. She was up to something. He wished he knew what. Not that it mattered. He had his own agenda—to see that four pairs of feet remained planted in reality.

  He'd sat close to her a few times in the past weeks as they worked on the banquet. He knew she didn't have the best singing voice in the world but what she lacked in quality, she made up for with enthusiasm. He admired that.

  He settled back when the singing ended and the sermon began. He normally enjoyed this respite from the daily pressure of his work. Today was no different. Pastor Don challenged them all to reject competition with one another and seek to promote the peace of Christ. Steele applied it to factions based on denominational differences. No way did it have anything to do with this unspoken feud between him and Holly. Hardly a feud even. Just a slight dissimilarity in viewpoints. Besides his motive was right. He only wanted to protect Pops.

  It bothered him a tiny bit that he was misleading Pops about his interest in Holly. Not that she wasn't a nice enough young woman. Except for her sentimental belief in romance and flowers and—

  A vision of pink flowers in a lattice topped planter filled his mind. His insides twisted and knotted like the tea towels he'd pulled from the dryer last night. What was it with pink flowers? He dismissed the errant thought and concentrated on the closing remarks.

  After the service, the four of them gathered on the sidewalk.

  "Where is this picnic to take place?" Steele demanded.

  "Down by the river." Holly answered as the other two wandered away. "The lunch is ready at the café. We can go that way."

  "A walk. How nice." He put false enthusiasm into his voice and received a startled look from Holly.

  She studied him a minute, as if wondering how sincere he was, then gave a quirk of her eyebrows, silently informing him she would accept his gesture as sincere as long as he lived up to it.

  "Authentic," she said. "That's how Nan and Henry did it the first time."

  He made sure she noticed how he rolled his eyes in disbelief. "We're going to have a little trouble making the river walk look like it did fifty years ago."

  "Doesn't matter. Come on." She tucked her hand through his arm and headed him down the sidewalk.

  What was with that? Was she trying to keep him away from Pops? But the older couple followed.

  Holly's hand was warm and soft. He thought of sunshine and flowers—white ones, red ones, any color but pink. He would not think pink. As a lawyer, he knew he should question that idea but instead, he pushed it away.

  They stopped to pick up a cooler and a big wicker basket at J'ava Moi.

  "Couldn't you have given us each a brown bag?" he murmured as he hefted the cooler to his shoulder.

  She smiled sweetly. "Wouldn't want to give the grandparents food poisoning now would I?"

  "So this chest is full of food on ice. And the basket?"

  "Need dishes, don't we?"

  "Not for sandwiches."

  "We're going to have to hurry to catch up." Pops and Jean had gone ahead.

  Steele waited for her to lock the café then they strode after the older couple. But it was impossible to hurry with the awkward basket banging at Holly's shins.

  He shifted the cooler to his other shoulder and grabbed the handle of the basket. "Give me that. We'll never catch them."

  His hand brushed hers. Again he thought sunshine and flowers. This time he didn't picture any pink flowers. Just pots of sweet purple ones and found, to his surprise, he liked purple flowers. He grunted. Steele, give your head a shake. Sunday was no excuse to leave his brain in park. He stared at her hand as she refused to release the handle. "Come on, Holly. Be reasonable."

  "Let's both carry it."

  Let's not.

  She took a step.

  What could he do but grasp the basket between them, feeling the connection between their hands. Of course he felt a connection. After all, their fingers rubbed together. It would have been far more surprising if he hadn’t felt it. Would have signaled his hand was numb or paralyzed. Nope. Wasn't his hand that was the problem—it was his brain. It was numb. He should have grabbed a coffee somewhere to jumpstart it.

  Trouble was, the connection had nothing to do with the touch of her hand. It had everything to do with the sweet, crazy, mixed up feeling he got around her. That strange yearning hollowness, or hunger, a longing—whatever it was that grew more familiar each time they were together.

  Pops would laugh himself sick if he knew how Steele was thinking. But no way would the old man find out because as of this minute, Steele put an end to his mental detour.

  They caught up to Pops and Jean as they reached Caras Park. Jean stopped and pressed her hand to her chest. "Oh my. This is much different." She tilted her head. "Do I hear Battle Hymn of the Republic?"

  "That's the carousel," Pops said, leading Jean in that direction.

  Steele's stomach rumbled. His neck fired off a protest at the weight of the cooler on his shoulder. "Let's find a picnic table first." They found one close to a bunch of trees, next to the river walk. Wild flowers trailed along
the pathway. The river tumbled past.

  Holly opened the basket and pulled out a white cloth. She flipped it over the table.

  Steele's stomach ached from hunger. Pops had insisted on a light breakfast of fruit and yogurt. A man could starve on such fare.

  Holly lifted out four white china plates and silverware.

  Silverware? Real, shiny silverware? This was a picnic not a banquet. Though he'd welcome banquet food. He'd imagined sandwiches but now he pictured slabs of ham on the plates, mounds of potato and macaroni salads, and fresh buns slathered with butter. He swallowed hard. "Can I help?"

  She put stemmed goblets at each place. "You can pour the drinks." She handed him a long-necked bottle of sparkling apple juice.

  He unwrapped the lid, screwed it off and filled the goblets. No need to wonder what Holly's plans were for the day—romance at its best, or worst but Pops didn't need any encouragement. "I thought the idea was to recreate the events of yesteryear. Wouldn't water have been more appropriate?"

  Holly only laughed. "I bet they wished they had something special back then so why not give it to them now?"

  He had lots of reasons. Reality, practicality, safety, protecting Pops, but Jean and Pops, who had gone to the pathway to look out on the river, saw the table set and hurried back before he could give her even one bit of rationale.

  "Holly, this is beautiful. Makes me feel special." Nan hugged her granddaughter. "Thank you."

  Pops grinned like a silly pup. "Looks a lot better than our first picnic."

  "I guess it's not the same," Steele said. Nothing's the same, can't you all see that? It was silly to think they could bring back the past.

  "It's better. Lots of things about the present are better than the past." Pops smiled at Jean as he spoke.

  Steele clenched down on his jaw so hard it would take concerted effort to release it. Pops was so vulnerable. So eager to be hurt again.

  Jean looked starry eyed and mellow. But Steele wasn't ready to believe this whole business was above suspicion.

  "Did you bring your camera?" Jean asked Holly. "Can you take a picture of us? I always wished I had some pictures of that summer."