by Liz Isaacson
Trina didn’t believe in love at first sight. Never had. Didn’t really have a lot of romantic bones in her body, unless she wanted to count her lifelong love affair with tennis.
She sighed and closed her eyes, the moment she’d met Cal playing through her mind. So she’d been abnormally attracted to him, drawn physically across the dance floor until she stood chest to chest with him.
Something had sizzled and crackled between them during the four-minute dance they’d shared, and—
“I’m afraid,” she whispered, realizing why she’d run from him that night on the dance floor. She didn’t want him to know who she was, and fear had gripped her. Gripped her hard enough to induce her flight response.
“What?” Libby switched her attention from her nails to Trina.
“I have to tell you something.” Trina’s heart wailed, trembled, flopped in her chest. “How familiar with women’s tennis are you?”
“Women’s tennis?”
With that comment, Trina knew Three Rivers was the perfect place for her to build a life outside of tennis. Knew she didn’t want to leave simply because she was afraid.
“Open up your laptop,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
Libby complied, and Trina Googled herself, getting pages and pages of pictures and articles in less than half a second. She wanted to delete them all.
No, you don’t, she told herself. And she didn’t. Not really. What she’d wanted—to leave tennis on her terms—had been taken from her.
Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, she turned the computer back to Libby. “That’s me.”
Libby stared at the screen, her eyes wide and curious. “Professional tennis…number one in the world….” She looked up, surprise and shock in her expression. “You were number one in the world?”
“For sixty-four consecutive months.” Trina ran her hands through her short locks, hating them. She hated the color too. It looked so yellow to her, nowhere near a natural blonde.
“I don’t—ohhh.”
So she’d found the pictures of Carlos. Carlos and Trina. Then Carlos and Amara. Then Carlos and Giselle.
“No wonder you paid six month’s rent up front.” Libby wore the same look in her eye that everyone did once they figured out she had money. A lot of money.
Libby returned to the computer to get some more juicy gossip. “This was months ago,” she said after only a few seconds. She leaned away from the laptop. “And you’ve only been in town for a few weeks.” She didn’t wear any judgment in her face, and when she asked, “Where have you been?” it wasn’t with any ill intentions.
“Bouncing around,” Trina said. She laid her head back in her arms. “And I’m tired. I just want to stay here.”
“Oh my stars. You were just thinking about running again,” Libby said. “Weren’t you?”
Trina nodded, her chin wobbling as her emotion got the better of her. She steeled her nerves and buried her feelings, the way she’d been doing since the day she picked up a tennis racquet.
“You don’t want Cal to know.”
“I don’t want anyone to know.”
Libby closed the laptop instead of staring at another article, analyzing more pictures. Trina appreciated that, and she gave her roommate a weak smile.
“I don’t see how telling him you’re the monarch butterfly has anything to do with your tennis career.”
Trina tried to explain it in a way that wouldn’t hurt Libby’s feelings. “People…treat me differently once they know I’ve won Wimbledon.”
“Twice,” Libby said with a grin.
Trina blinked and then a laugh burst out of her mouth. Libby joined in, and Trina released all the pent-up emotions she’d bottled up and carried around with her for the past six months.
“So I’m texting Cal.” Libby lunged for her phone while terror gripped Trina’s heart.
“I’ll tell him,” she said. “Let me tell him.”
But how she was going to do that, she had no idea. But her promise got Libby to lower the phone, and Trina felt like she’d just bought herself a tiny window of time.
She didn’t tell Cal on Monday. He was in a very bad mood, and she even skipped eating lunch with him to give him some space.
She didn’t tell him on Tuesday, as he didn’t seem to be anywhere on-site that day. She found out on Wednesday that he’d gone to Amarillo with Pete and Squire and Brynn to a horse auction. They didn’t return until Thursday afternoon, and then it was all hands on deck as they unloaded six new horses.
Friday, Miss Kelly fed everyone on the property, including all the employees at Courage Reins, the equine therapy clinic, and Brynn’s place.
Trina didn’t want to go, but her other option of dining alone with Cal while she stared at her black cowgirl boot was out, so she went.
Cal came over to her immediately. “Hey, there.” He gave her a grin that rivaled the sun in brightness and heat. His fingers brushed against hers, causing a breath to stick in her lungs. So many people milled about, talking, laughing, and going up the stairs to a huge deck where Kelly and Squire stood serving everyone in the line.
“Do they do this often?” Trina asked, sticking close to Cal as he hung back from everyone else.
“Every couple of months.” He glanced up to the deck and back to Trina. “You want to take our chili back to my cabin?”
Relief rushed through her. “Absolutely.”
His grin made a reappearance. “Great.” He slid his fingers in between hers and held on with a tight squeeze. “I’ve missed you this week.” He released her hand, leaving her skin cold and her muscles, tendons, and bones tingling.
Cal moved up the stairs, leaving Trina to stare after him. He missed her?
Libby’s voice practically shrieked in Trina’s ears. Tell him. Tell him today!
He glanced back at her and gestured for her to come through the line with him. She joined him, because the country version of Trina Salisbury wanted to.
By the time they escaped the crowd and made it into the silence of his cabin, Trina needed some painkillers and an injection of patience. She groaned as she sat at his kitchen table.
“Rough week?”
“Rough lunch,” she said.
He placed a plate of butter between them. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t like crowds.”
“Ah.” He nodded and scooped up a bite of chili. “I don’t like tomatoes.”
“How are you eating chili then?” She giggled as she filled her spoon with tomatoes, black beans, and beef. “I mean, it’s tomato-based.”
“I’ll eat them in soups and stews.” He took another bite, as if to prove his point.
“What else don’t you like?”
“Summer.”
“Summer?” She stared at him. “Everyone loves summer.”
“You haven’t lived through one in Texas, obviously.” He grinned as he spread butter on his cornbread.
“I haven’t. But I’ve…traveled all over the world. Been in a lot of hot places.” Sometimes during the worst times of the year. He should try London in July.
“Traveled all over the world, huh?” He watched her from under the brim of that sexy hat, and Trina glanced toward the boot still sitting in his living room. It had been moved since the last time she’d been here, which meant he looked at it, picked it up, thought about it often.
“Yeah, in a…previous life.” She took another bite, everything inside her on fire, which had nothing to do with the jalapenos in the chili. She put her spoon down. “Look, I have to tell you something.”
“Shoot.” He didn’t seem worried about whatever she was going to say, but the words got lodged in her throat. Surprising, as she hadn’t been able to come up with any words. Not really.
“I’m, well, when we met—”
“Cal?” A man whose head nearly hit the top of the doorframe as he leaned inside knocked after he’d spoken. “Shirley Temple is throwin’ a fit, and she’s gashed her leg on her sta
ll. Brynn needs you.”
He glanced at Trina, noticing her for the first time. “Oh, hello, ma’am.” He ducked his head and retreated out of the cabin as fast as he’d come.
Cal was already on his way toward the door. “Stay as long as you like,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll find you later.”
He was gone just as fast, leaving Trina to whisper, “We met at the masked ball. We danced one magical, beautiful dance before I freaked out and ran away.”
She looked at the boot. “That boot is mine.”
There. She’d said it. Too bad no one was around to hear it.
Chapter 7
The weather worsened the deeper into November the days went. Trina came over for lunch everyday. Sometimes Cal entered his cabin to find her already there, sometimes seated at the table as she used his microwave to heat something from home. Sometimes curled into the couch as she ate a peanut butter sandwich. And once, he’d walked in to find her holding that black cowgirl boot and whispering something.
He’d broken the physical barrier between them, and if she sat on the couch, he sat next to her. If she ate at the table, he ate across from her. He held her hand as they walked down the gravel path, and his dreams started to match his daydreams, all of them featuring a kiss with Trina.
One day, the week before Thanksgiving, they strolled out behind the cabins, enjoying the sunlight even though the wind tried to chase it away. She claimed to love the open land, the wildness of it, and Cal had started to appreciate it more.
He’d learned she didn’t like social media, or athletes, or pomegranates. She did love a big juicy hamburger and rising early enough to catch the sunrise.
They usually filled their limited time with chatter, but today, they both stayed silent. At least until she said, “You go to church, right?”
Surprise lifted his eyebrows. “Yes.”
“Every week?”
“Most every week, yeah.”
“And you take Sabrina.”
“Yes.”
Trina paused and looked up at him with scared eyes. Her tension radiated in the space between them. “Could I go with you this week?”
Cal grinned. “Of course.” He released her hand and tucked her close to his body, guiding her back to a walk. “Have you been to church before?”
“No.”
“Not even as a little girl?”
She shook her head, her hesitation swirling with the wind. He’d suspected she had a past she didn’t want him to know about; she’d dropped enough hints for him to guess. Traveled all over the world. Never been to church. And her hair had started growing in and it wasn’t naturally the color of the butterscotch discs his grandmother kept in a bowl on her front table.
It was dark.
Cal had all but given up on his monarch butterfly. He’d texted Libby a few times over the past few weeks, but she either ignored him or answered with a terse Don’t know yet.
He wasn’t sure he cared to find the other woman. He had Trina right next to him, and he found her interesting and beautiful.
He hadn’t kissed a woman in a while, wasn’t quite sure how much courage it took, didn’t know how to tell if the moment was right.
But he paused and turned toward her. “Trina,” he said, his voice low and almost getting whisked away by the weather. “I sure like you.”
She tilted her head back to look up into his face, a smile filling hers. “I sure like you right on back.”
He cupped her face in his palms and lowered his mouth toward hers slowly, painfully slowly, giving her a chance to escape if she wanted to.
She didn’t want to, because she stretched up to kiss him too, and when his lips met hers, an explosion of heat shot through him.
He handled her gently, carefully, exploring her lips until he knew every centimeter of them. It was easily the best kiss of his life, and his heart galloped like a herd of wild mustangs by the time he pulled back.
She gazed up at him, pure wonder and…adoration in her expression. She smiled and ducked her head as she wrapped him in an embrace that he could feel along his ribs long after she let go.
On Sunday morning, Cal stood in the bathroom, supervising Sabrina as she brushed her teeth. “Get all the way to the back ones,” he said.
“Mom says they’ll all fall out anyway,” Sabrina said around a mouth of foamy toothpaste.
“Still have to take care of ‘em,” he said, hoping his voice sounded nonchalant and not like he was mentally cursing Petra for pardoning poor hygiene simply because those teeth would fall out later.
She finished and jumped down from the stool he kept in the bathroom cupboard. “Can we go riding after church today?”
“Not today, baby. We’re….” His throat closed. He wasn’t aware of Petra dating anyone since the divorce, and he had no idea how to explain Trina to his six-year-old. “We’re stopping by Trina’s house to pick her up for church. Remember Trina?”
“The horse feeder.”
“Right,” Cal said. “She’s comin’ to church for the first time today.”
Sabrina just looked at him, waiting for more. But Cal knew it had taken some serious bravery for Trina to ask him about church.
“We’ll come back here and have lunch with her,” he said, hoping that was a good enough explanation. “You’ll probably get to see her in the next few days while you’re here, before we go to Uncle Kyle’s for Thanksgiving.”
Sabrina didn’t argue or seem upset. He loaded her up and drove into town, finding the apartment building around the corner from the bank easily. “Scootch on over into the middle, baby. I’ll go grab her, and she can sit by the window.”
Her front door opened before Cal could get there, and Libby emerged first. “Cal Hodgkins.” The way she always said his first and last name put this awkward air between them. He smiled at her anyway.
“Libby Larsen.” He glanced behind her to find Trina.
“She didn’t own a dress, so we did the best we could.” Libby turned to face the door and called, “Come on out, Trina.”
Cal licked his lips, unsure of what he’d see when Trina finally appeared, his heart running away with his imagination.
Trina emerged wearing a black skirt that probably went to Libby’s ankles. But on Trina, it hit mid-calf, revealing a pair of blue-as-denim flats. Her blouse was the color of the sunflowers that grew wild in the fields around the ranch, and it hung a little awkwardly off her narrow shoulders.
She took his breath away. One hundred percent left him breathless, the same way the monarch butterfly at the masked ball had. He found himself moving toward her and sweeping her into his arms, forgetting or not caring that Libby stood a dozen feet away and that his daughter was likely watching from the truck.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered in her ear just before placing his lips against her soft skin there.
She trembled slightly in his arms and he regained his composure long enough to put the proper distance between them. He tucked her hand in his and turned back to Libby, who wore a giddy look on her face. She even bounced up and down on the balls of her feet and clapped her hands.
“You guys are so cute together. You’re right though, Trina. You can’t wear heels with him.”
Trina looked up at him and smiled. “You look nice.”
“Thank you, sunflower.”
“Sunflower?”
He reached over and fingered the blouse, pulling it slightly off her shoulder. He stared at the newly exposed skin, his thoughts bursting into fantasies he couldn’t play out right now. “This reminds me of sunflowers,” he said through a parched throat.
“Well, your hat reminds me of coal, but you don’t hear me using that as a term of endearment.”
“So no Sunflower.”
She shook her head, a playful smile toying with her mouth. Cal wanted to lean down and wipe that small smirk from her lips by kissing her. He opened the passenger door of the truck, kissless.
“What about baby?” he asked.
Sabrina looked over. “Yeah, Daddy?”
Trina cocked her eyebrows. “No baby.”
Cal chuckled as he helped her into the truck, waving to Libby as she climbed into her own car.
“Hi, Trina,” Sabrina said as Cal swung the door closed. He went around the front of the truck, his eyes never leaving the two ladies in his truck. They were both smiling, and Trina said something that made Sabrina laugh.
Cal’s heart squeezed out an extra beat, then two. Could this be his reality long-term? Could he build a stable family unit for his daughter?
If he could, he knew one thing: He wanted to do the rebuilding with Trina.
Go slow, he coached himself. Be cautious. Every decision you make impacts three lives. His. Sabrina’s. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Petra’s. Her life was eternally intertwined with his, whether he liked it or not.
One of his father’s mantras came to mind. Make good choices, then you only have to make them once.
Cal wanted to do better than he’d done in the past when it came to choosing a wife. He couldn’t believe he was thinking about Trina like that after only five weeks, but there the thought sat, right in the middle of his brain.
His parents would be at his brother’s for Thanksgiving too, and Cal couldn’t wait to see everyone. Maybe they’d be able to help him make sense of his jumbled feelings, help him iron them flat and examine them.
As he drove toward the church and parked, his thoughts turned heavenward, and he pleaded for help. Help with Sabrina. Help to know what to do and say with Trina to make her first day at church meaningful and enjoyable.
“All right, ladies,” he said as he took the truck out of gear. “Let’s go.”
He got out of the truck first and waved for Sabrina to slide out on his side. He held her hand as he went around to help Trina, who also kept a firm hold on his fingers.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No one’s going to…well, I don’t really know what people will do.”
He chuckled and lifted her wrist to his lips. “Expect a lot of staring. But that’s about it.”
“Staring,” she mumbled. “Great.”