Bless His Heart

by Jessica L. Elliott

  “I did when I asked her on one date,” Greyson said, his teasing tone downplayed by the seriousness of his expression. “Gram, Hope and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. And I’ll be the first person to admit that’s my fault. Honestly, I bungled things pretty badly on that date to a fancy restaurant. Right now, I can’t have intentions for Hope because I need to give her time to see that I do know how to keep my feet out of my mouth.”

  “Do you?” Georgie asked with a smirk.

  Greyson attempted a frown. “Don’t start.”

  Georgie chuckled. “Greyson, my dear, you worry too much. You always have. While your brothers were out chasing rabbits and catching tadpoles, you were the cautious one measuring how deep the water was or watching for any sink holes you might step into. Probably why you’re the only one who didn’t break any bones or have a near-death experience. Hope doesn’t need time to see that you know how to be sweet and loving. She’s already seen that in you. I will tell you this now, if you move too slow, that girl’s gonna get snatched up by someone smarter than you are. Just because she hasn’t expressed interest in any of the young men in town doesn’t mean they aren’t interested in her.”

  Jealousy roared to life in Greyson’s mind. He pushed it back down as he said, “I don’t plan to be slow. But I’m not going to rush in either. A couple weeks is not long enough to decide a lifetime commitment.”

  Shrugging, Georgie sipped her tea. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Greyson pushed his grandmother’s words away from his mind as he finished his breakfast. He didn’t want to think of Hope dating anyone else. Truth was, his grandmother’s romantic sentiment made some sense. But the practical side of him insisted they continue taking things at a steady pace. While there were many who prolonged the courtship process, he knew of just as many who jumped in and out of relationships like a runner over hurdles. “I told Hope to meet us at the parade and we’ll ride over to the farm together on the hayride.”

  “Actually, I was hoping to go see Lilian after the parade,” Georgie said.

  “But you don’t want to miss the craft fair.”

  “Of course not,” she replied. “You two can go have some lunch while I visit Lilian. And before you give me that look, Lilian’s been my very best friend longer than you’ve been alive. She’s not going to let me leave her place hungry.”

  Greyson looked at her. “Okay. Hope and I will drop you off at the retirement home, then we’ll go get some lunch, pick you up, and then we’ll all ride the hay rides to the farm.”

  Georgie giggled. “I hope you brought some jeans to wear.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Gram, you know I can’t stand denim.”

  Her giggles became full out laughter as she said, “Oh, Greyson honey, you are in for a rough ride. I hope those slacks of yours are good and thick.”

  Greyson ignored her and took another sip of coffee. Lord, grant me patience.

  AS HE WALKED AROUND the quaint country farm, Greyson tried not a fidget as bits of straw poked him. Hope seemed perfectly comfortable in her faded blue jeans and flannel shirt. His grandmother’s denim overalls seemed to have kept her free from the irritating hay too. Meanwhile his dark slacks were riddled.

  “You doing all right, dear?” Georgie asked sweetly.

  “I’m perfectly, fine. Thanks for asking,” Greyson replied, glowering at his grandmother.

  She snickered. “If you say so.”

  “Just how young is that pilot who’s taking you to the ball?” Greyson asked, grateful for a chance to get back at his teasing grandmother, though it still goaded him that she’d accepted a date with a perfect stranger.

  His grandmother blushed. “He didn’t ask me because he’s interested in me. It’s just a ruse, I’m certain.”

  “Mm-hmm”

  Georgie scowled at him until the excitement of the festival took hold of her frown and flipped it around. “It’s too nice a day to stay angry. Let’s walk around and see what everyone is selling this year. And then I might see about sitting in the parlor with an iced apple cider.”

  Hope hid a giggle behind her hand before linking arms with Georgie. “I think that sounds delightful.”

  “Oh, but you’re supposed to stay out here with Greyson while I go to the parlor. Alone,” Georgie said.

  Lord, when I asked you to grant me patience, I did not mean for you to have my grandmother try it more, Greyson thought before saying, “I’m sure Hope meant it would be delightful for you to sit in the parlor. She’s welcome to come and go as she pleases, you know.”

  Together they walked through the metal shed where the vendor booths were protected from the sun. Once again, Greyson watched his grandmother stop at every booth. He admired the pride she took in her community, and her willingness to support even the most amateur artisan. When they’d done all their shopping, Hope offered to lead Georgie to the farmhouse parlor. “But no surprises this time,” she directed at Greyson. “You’ve spoiled me plenty.”

  “No surprises,” Greyson promised.

  Hope narrowed her gaze, despite the smile playing about her lips. “There better not be. Or I’ll revoke your spending privileges.”

  “Can you do that?” he asked.

  “Don’t tempt me,” Hope said, smirking. “I’d find a way.”

  Greyson chuckled to himself as Hope led Georgie away to the large farmhouse. He was happy to see the famous Beauregard in a paddock near the festivities being fawned on by his loyal fans. His left foreleg was wrapped in bandages, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the last few shoots of grass in the pasture. He glanced back at rows of booths and something sparkling in the light caught his attention. He walked closer and recognized the booth with jewelry Georgie had bought a bracelet from.

  “Weren’t you already here?” the woman running the booth asked.

  “I was, but I don’t recognize this piece.”

  She glanced at the necklace he was admiring. A chuckle escaped her. “I’m not surprised you missed seeing it. That’s not exactly Miss Georgie’s style. She prefers bolder colors.”

  Greyson smiled. “That’s the truth.”

  “How is your grandmother doing, really?” the woman asked.

  “She’s doing better each day,” Greyson replied with a smile. “The doctor expects she’ll make a full recovery. How did you know we were related?”

  “Other than you calling her Gram?” the woman teased. “It’s hard to miss one of you Able boys. Tall, dark, and handsome, every one of you.”

  Warmth spread through him at the compliment. “Thanks.”

  “If you wanted my opinion, this would go perfectly in Hope’s collection. She loves these kind of subdued fall colors,” she said.

  “So much for that being a secret,” Greyson muttered with a grin. He continued to look at the necklace. A simple gold chain with clusters of amber, scarlet, and olive beads, it would look stunning with the dress she’d worn to their date.

  The woman laughed. “Sorry, I’ve known your grandmother and Hope Fields for years. I take interest when she’s seen with an exceptional young man.”

  “Well, if I’m going to get this for her before she arrives to talk me out of it,” Greyson said, ignoring the heat burning in his cheeks, “I better do it now.”

  “Shall I wrap it for you?”

  “Please.” Sorry, Hope. I really meant not to surprise you. When he’d paid for the necklace, he tucked the little wrapped box in his pocket. No sense in Hope finding out that he’d lasted exactly thirty seconds before breaking their deal. He saw her coming out of the farmhouse and stood with a smile on his face as she came closer. Her brilliant smile captivated him. The warm sunshine worked its golden magic on her hair, making it shimmer.

  As she came closer she tilted her head slightly. “You’re up to something.”

  “What? Why would you think that?”

  Hope laughed. “Seriously, you and your grandmother have the exact same scheming face. Did you stick to our arran
gement?”

  Greyson took her hand and kissed it. “Would I break a deal with you?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that he sounded sincere.

  Pink stole through her cheeks and she smiled. “I guess not. So, what shall we do now?”

  “You’re the country girl here. I need you to lead on this one.”

  She laughed again, shaking her head. “You’re in trouble, Greyson, bless your heart.”

  “Okay, can I just admit that I thought ‘bless your heart’ was just a southern thing?”

  “I think it’s a small town thing,” Hope said with a smile. “And if you really look at it, Kansas has had quite a bit of southern influence over the years. It wouldn’t at all be surprising for us to pick up a few things.”

  Hope led the way through the various activities. Greyson would never have believed he could have so much fun on a farm. As they walked around and participated in all the festival had to offer, he found he understood his grandmother’s devotion to the community. Everywhere they went, people greeted Hope with fond smiles. Several recognized him as one of Miss Georgie’s boys when he introduced himself, even when he was fairly sure he’d never met them before. The question Hope had asked during their date struck him again. What was it keeping him away from Blessings? It wasn’t all that far from Kansas City, and if he needed time in the big city he could easily get it. While it would be a long commute, it wouldn’t be impossible to stay with the accounting firm he worked for. Blessings really did seem to have everything he needed. As Hope glanced over at him with a bright smile, he realized Blessings could even provide someone to grow old with.

  “Are you okay?” Hope asked.

  Greyson smiled. “Yeah, just thinking.”

  She smirked. “Must have been a pretty big thought. That sigh seemed to come all the way from your toes.”

  He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I think it may have been.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  Greyson shook his head. “Not yet. Let’s just enjoy all the beauty here.”

  Hope beamed. “Why, Greyson Able, I do believe I’ve almost converted you to country living.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Only if you’re a part of it.”

  Color blossomed in her cheeks. “I think I can do that,” she whispered.

  Greyson resisted the temptation to kiss her senseless then and there. He wanted that first kiss to be something extra special that night. He brushed a stray wisp of hair out of Hope’s face. “It’s probably about time to get Gram from the parlor.”

  “Probably.”

  He took Hope’s hand and squeezed it. “Let’s go find her and head back on the next hayride. After all, the ball is tonight and I’m sure you want some time to get ready.”

  A saucy smirk flashed across her face. “Are you sure? Maybe I like going in my jeans and cowboy boots.”

  “Well, if you do, I don’t mind,” Greyson said, finding that he meant it. “Although, if I am going to consider country living, I might have to rethink my stance on denim. No matter how much I swat myself, I can’t get all the straw out of my pants. It’s driving me absolutely crazy!”

  Hope’s laughter filled his heart with joy. “That is one of the advantages of a good pair of jeans. It doesn’t stop all the straw, but it certainly seems to deter most of it.”

  “It’s a good thing I wasn’t planning on wearing this to the ball,” he replied. “I’d spend the whole night dancing by myself and looking like an idiot.”

  They laughed the entire way to the farmhouse, where they found Georgie chatting with friends on the porch swing. While waiting for the next available hay ride, Greyson bought each of them an iced apple cider and pumpkin muffins. They spent the time laughing and talking. When they arrived back in town, Hope left them to go to her car while Greyson led Georgie to his. As he buckled his seatbelt, Georgie said, “You know, I do believe you and Hope are the cutest couple I’ve seen since Lionel brought your mother home.”

  Greyson rolled his eyes. “Oh, Gram. Someday, you’re going to have to learn to let things alone.”

  “Oh, but stirring the pot is so much fun,” she replied with a grin.

  “Is that why you’re going on a date with that out-of-towner?”

  Georgie smirked. “For an out-of-towner yourself, you’re kind of snobby, you know that?”

  “Protective,” Greyson corrected. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

  “And you won’t. You’ll be too busy making moon eyes at Hope,” Georgie teased. “Jake seems like a very kind young man. He needs out of a bind, and I’m doing him a favor.”

  Greyson frowned. “He’s not about to become one of your matchmaking projects, is he?” The twinkle in his grandmother’s eye gave him all the answer he needed. Lord, you better watch out for Jake tonight. He has no idea what he just got himself into.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hope wrapped her jacket tightly about herself as she sat on her porch swing waiting for Greyson. Though most of the day had been fairly warm for late November, the setting sun took that warmth with it. Already stars twinkled in the darkening sky. A chill breeze ruffled the organza layers of her fluffy skirt, and she was grateful for the thick, woolen leggings she wore under it. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched Greyson walk out of Georgie’s house and down the path to her own. She stifled a giggle. Most people going to the Harvest Ball would be in their Sunday best. The ladies would wear lovely dresses, and the men would be in what they would wear to church. A few suits, but mostly well-kept jeans and sports jackets. Hope couldn’t remember ever having seen a tuxedo at the ball before, and that suddenly felt like a shame. Greyson’s white tuxedo provided the perfect contrast against his dark complexion. A single red rose with a spray of baby’s breath was pinned to his lapel. “Do I meet with your approval?” he asked as he turned before her.

  She about choked on air as she said, “You look incredible, but don’t you think you’re a little overdressed?”

  “What? You said it’s a ball,” Greyson replied.

  Hope stood up and allowed herself to walk closer to Greyson, admiring the cut of the suit. It obviously belonged to him, and she imagined he’d probably had it tailored to provide the perfect fit across the broad shoulders and narrow waist. She allowed herself a grin. “Greyson, I think you’re going to put the rest of the men to shame.”

  “Good,” he said with a roguish smile, “that means I’ll definitely have your attention.”

  “And that of every single woman in the room,” Hope teased. “I’ll be beating them off with a stick.”

  “I’ve got a few from trimming Gram’s rosebushes. Would you like me to bring you one?” Greyson replied with a wink.

  Hope laughed. “I think you’re a bad influence on me.”

  “Or maybe that’s the other way around.”

  “Hmm, touche,” she said.

  “May I?” Greyson asked, holding out a fall corsage which matched his boutonniere.

  Hope nodded as he tied the flowers about her wrist. His gentle fingers sent a thrill through her, and fire danced across her wrist where Greyson kissed it. “Thank you,” she said, admiring the roses.

  “Now we’ll be the perfect pair. Although, it seems unfair that you’ve got a jacket covering the rest of that dress,” he said, grinning at her. “Are you going to make me wait until we reach town hall to see it?”

  “You better believe it,” Hope replied. “It’s gotten too chilly to take the jacket off.”

  “So that’s why you were waiting outside.” Greyson led her to the car, holding her hand as they walked.

  “Maybe part of the reason. I also just love watching the sunset.”

  “It is incredible here.”

  Driving to town hall didn’t take long. Lines of people walked up the steps to the old, limestone building. Hope couldn’t wait to see the inside. Somehow, each year the decorating committee managed to make the event room look even more spectacular. As she and G
reyson made their way up the steps, she wasn’t disappointed. Hay bales and pumpkins lined the walls. A friendly scarecrow smiled at them, his painted blue eyes crinkled. The delightful aroma of cinnamon and spices permeated the air.

  Greyson led her to a coat rack and helped her out of the tan suede jacket she’d worn. He grinned at her. “Plaid flannel?”

  She looked down at the fall blouse she’d worn with her white organza skirt. When she looked back up at him, she replied, “Of course. It’s a Harvest Ball. Plaid and flannel are almost mandatory.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Hope kissed his cheek. “Nope, you’ll figure it out on your own.”

  They walked into the converted ballroom where a live band played on a temporary stage. Soft amber lights made vertical lines up and down the walls of the room while glittering, gold stars hung suspended from the ceiling, creating a romantic, fall ambiance. Couples were already on the floor, including Georgie in her soft blue, Sunday dress with the pilot who’d asked her to join him as his date. The girlish grin on Georgie’s face warmed Hope’s heart. “Looks like she’s having a good time,” Hope said with a smile.

  Greyson looked that direction with a slight frown. “Looks like it.”

  “Don’t worry about her tonight. For one, I don’t think he’s a bad guy, and for two, even if he is, Miss Georgie can handle herself.”

  He sighed. “I know, I know.” He glanced around and said, “I ate just before coming, but do you need anything?”

  “No,” she said, following his line of sight to the snack table. “After all the goodies from the craft show and farmer’s market, I couldn’t eat a thing just now.”

  A slow song began. “Will you join me on the floor? This is a ball, after all.”

  Hope nodded. The intensity of Greyson’s gaze stole her breath away. As he led her out to the dance floor, Hope was aware of other people looking at him. Let them look, she thought as he took her in his arms. The romantic music floated around them. The hushed conversations and other people seemed to vanish as Greyson danced with her. The world disappeared until there was only Greyson, Hope, and the music. She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes closing. One dance became two, and then three and four. Time both held still and rushed by as the evening wore on.