The Reluctant Cowgirl (8 page)

Jeremy stood on the porch and considered tossing the fragrant blooms into the shrubs next to the house. He’d had the truck windows down on the way over here, and when the scent of newly blossomed honeysuckle had drifted in he’d given in to the impulse to stop and break off a small limb to bring to Crystal. But now that he was on the porch, misgivings outweighed good intentions. Her enthusiasm for the ranch made him forget that she’d spent the last several years, no doubt, accustomed to hothouse bouquets in elegant vases.

Before he could decide, the door abruptly opened. “I thought I heard you lurking out here.” Her face lit up when she saw the honeysuckle. “For me?”

He nodded and shoved it into her hands. “Be careful. The stem may be sharp.”

She held the blooms to her nose and inhaled. “Thank you. Is there any better smell?”

Jeremy smiled. “My grandma used to say that honeysuckle was what she always imagined heaven would smell like.”

She nodded and stepped back. “Come on in while I get something to put it in.”

He walked into the living room, but her voice drifted back to him. “I thought we’d eat in the kitchen if that’s okay.”

He followed her slowly into the big kitchen and smiled at the huge, long wood table in the center. Hard to believe he’d never been in the McCord house before as many times as he’d been at the ranch. It was as warm and inviting as the family itself.

He glanced toward the booth in the corner, a small ceramic-top table set for two. Beside it, Crystal was squatted down with her head in a bottom cabinet.

“Found it,” came her muffled but triumphant voice. She emerged with a glass gallon jar, the kind his mom made tea in. “Perfect.”

“Nice vase,” he said with a wry grin.

“The best.” She ran the jar half full of water at the sink, set it on the counter, and plunked the honeysuckle branch into it.

“I’m glad.”

“Ready to eat?” She slipped a potholder on her hand and pulled a pan of cheese toast from the oven.

“Now that’s what
I
imagine heaven will smell like,” he said, breathing in deep.

She laughed. “It does smell good. I’ve forgotten how hungry working outdoors makes me.”

They sat across from each other at the small booth.

He glanced at her. “Is it okay if I ask the blessing?”

An expression he couldn’t define flitted across her face, but she nodded. “Sure.”

When he finished, they dug into their stew. Halfway through, he laughed. “My dad always says you can tell how hard people have been working by how little conversation there is at the dinner table.”

She looked up with a grin. “We worked hard, didn’t we?”

When they finished, he pushed his empty bowl away. “I see what you mean about your mama’s stew. That was delicious,” he said.

“Why did you let me eat so much? I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Or a hundred years?” he teased.

“No fair bringing up the whole Sleeping Beauty thing again.”

“Did you fall asleep out there on purpose?”

She shrugged, absently fingering her napkin.

He peered closer. He hated to be nosy but couldn’t help but press a little. “Is there a reason you don’t want to sleep in the house?”

“It’s just big and empty.” She pushed to her feet and threw her napkin on the table. “Want to go sit in the living room? I’ll do the dishes later.”

“Aw c’mon.” He stood. “Why would anyone choose to do dishes alone when there’s someone here to help? I’ll wash and you dry.”

She cocked her head in that way he was becoming accustomed to and studied his face. Apparently deciding he was sincere, she started clearing the table. “We could use the dishwasher, you know.”

“I’m used to washing them by hand.” He rinsed the sink out with hot water and put the stopper in.

Within ten minutes, everything was washed and dried. He squeezed the dishcloth out and washed the table off while she put the last few things away.

As they walked into the living room, from the corner of his eye he saw her cover a yawn. “I’m going to go and let you get some rest.”

Panic flashed in her eyes. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

He frowned. “Crystal, is everything okay?”

“Of course! I just hate for you to eat and run.”

He kept his gaze on her face. “I’m starting to wonder if you think the house is haunted.”

Her laugh was strained, at best. “Don’t be silly.”

Jeremy frowned. “I’m kidding, but...”

Her blue eyes were wide and her mouth taut. She obviously wanted him to drop the subject.

“Nothing.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. “Are you a Razorbacks fan?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Basketball season was over and football season hadn’t started, so where was she going with this?

“How do you feel about trivia games?”

“If it’s Razorback trivia, I feel like I can beat you. You’ve been out of state for a long time.”

“I had ESPN, a subscription to the
Arkansas Democrat-Gazette,
and a brother who recorded all the games I couldn’t get on cable.” She grinned. “I’ll be right back.” She disappeared down the hall.

He studied the comfortable living room. A fireplace mantel full of photos caught his eye, and he stepped over to examine them closer. He picked up one he was certain was Crystal when she was a little older than Beka’s age, dressed in a Tinkerbell costume. Right beside it was another one of her, at the same age, in a long blue Wendy-type nightgown. The picture beside it brought his eyebrows together. It looked like Crystal standing beside herself. He glanced behind it and there were several of the same two girls as teenagers.

“Here it is,” Crystal called from behind him. “Prepare to lose.”

He turned around with the last picture in his hand. “You’re a twin?”

She stopped in her tracks and stared at him. “Um ... I was.”

How did a person stop being a twin? Had her sister run away? Been disowned?

“She was killed in an accident when we were eighteen.” Crystal still clutched the game in her arms.

He set the picture back on the mantel. Even though the accident happened seven years ago, he could tell her grief was very fresh. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” She sank onto the couch.

He sat down beside her. “This is why you don’t want to stay in the house.”

She nodded. “I went to New York right after,” she whispered.

“And only came home when you had to,” he finished.

She nodded again.

“What was her name?”

“Cami.”

He took the game from her, opened the box, and slid out a card. “What football coach led the Razorbacks to the most wins?”

“Frank Broyles,” she said quickly.

“That one was too easy. I demand another chance to stump you.” Without waiting for her to answer, he pulled another card. “Oh, here’s a good one. What former Razorback quarterback went to the pros as a wide receiver?”

“A wide receiver...”

“Are you stumped already?” He winked at her.

She rolled her eyes. “You wish. Joe Ferguson was a quarterback who went to the pros, but he went to the Buffalo Bills as a quarterback,” she mused aloud. Her face lit up. “I know. Matt Long.”

He snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. “I almost had you.”

“In your dreams.” She laughed and slipped a card out. “Scared yet?”

“Shaking in my boots, but bring it on.” It was so good to hear her laugh.

“Three brothers played for the Razorbacks and two of them went on to play for the pros. Who are they?”

“Three brothers...”

She looked around. “We need a timer.”

He chuckled. “Whoa there, Miss Competitive. I know the answer. The Burnett Brothers.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know their first names?”

He laughed. “Picky, picky. Bobby, Bill, and Tommy. And just for the record, Bobby and Billy were the ones who went pro.”

“Lucky guess.” She quickly pulled another card. “I had to answer two. So do you.”

“Like I said, bring it on.”

She looked at the card and her eyes widened in disbelief. “This is so not fair.”

Her outraged look had him laughing before she even sputtered out the question.

“What Razorback quarterback went on to play as quarterback for the Buffalo Bills?”

“Hmm...” He pretended ignorance until he thought she was going to hit him. “A good friend told me the answer to this one. Joe Ferguson.”

For the next hour, they pursued trivia and let the more serious matters fall to the side.

When the clock struck nine, he stood. “Want to sit on the porch for a while?”

“I’d love to.” She scooped up a pillow and blanket off the end table and carried them out with her.

“You sleeping on the porch again tonight?”

“No. When I get so sleepy I can’t stand it, I’m going to move onto the couch.”

He walked out and settled on the porch swing.

She put her bedding on the double rocker and came to sit beside him.

They sat in silence, the swing gently swaying, and listened to the tree frogs and crickets.

“Sounds like rain’s coming,” he said softly.

She motioned toward the sky. “No stars tonight. You’re probably right.” She covered another yawn and laid her head back against the swing.

For the next ten minutes, he guided the swing gently with one foot on the wooden porch.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice slurred. Soon, her head rested against his shoulder.

He waited a few minutes then walked her into the house like he used to with Beka when she’d fall asleep in the living room. Crystal collapsed onto the couch, and he tiptoed back out and got the bedding. She didn’t stir even when he put the pillow under her head and covered her with the blanket.

He looked down at her, the second time in one day he’d seen her asleep. Both times he’d been struck by the pure beauty of her face, but tonight he was struck by the vulnerability there as well. Even in sleep, there was sadness and a sense of the burden she was carrying. As he watched her sleep, he knew he recognized these things because he saw them in his own mirror every day.

Crystal woke to the sound of pounding rain. Dusky light cast shadows around the room. Where was she?

She lay still for a minute, taking in her surroundings. Her gaze finally fell on the mantel, and she remembered. Jeremy. She’d fallen asleep on the porch swing. He must have helped her to the couch.

What time was it now? She squinted at the grandfather clock in the corner. Ten. Ten? She glanced toward the window. Sheets of rain were coming down, but the sky wasn’t dark. That didn’t compute.

She sat up and groaned as her muscles ached in protest. As the cobwebs cleared from her mind, she mouthed, “Ten.” Ten in the morning. This time her groan had nothing to do with her muscles. She’d overslept again. Albeit a little more privately.

She jumped up and hobbled over to the door. Apparently Jeremy had locked it behind himself last night because she had to unlock it to open it. A small paper bag fluttered between the screen door and the wooden door.

A note was scrawled on the paper:

Hope this isn’t cold by the time you wake up. The guys went home to wait the rain out. They’ll be back if it quits and so will I. Call if you need anything.

Crystal peeked inside the bag. A cup of something delicious smelling from Coffee Central and a large muffin. She lifted the muffin out. A sunshine muffin, unless she missed her guess—raisins and walnuts, tiny chunks of apple. Her mouth watered.

After a quick shower, she microwaved the coffee and muffin and headed out to the porch with her late breakfast. She sat in the porch swing and ate while she watched the rain come down. In the distance, she saw Elyse’s tiny cottage. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket, scrolled to her sister’s name, and pushed the button.

“Hello?”

“Want to go into town for lunch?”

Elyse’s soft laugh echoed through the line. “What are you? A duck?”

Crystal smiled and leaned forward to put her hand in the drip. A fine mist sprayed her face. “I love rainy days. They feel so full of possibilities.”

“Like the possibility of staying warm and dry?”

“So how soon can you be ready?”

Elyse sighed. “An hour.”

“I’m going to call Luke and see if he’s around and wants to go, too, okay?”

“That would be great, Crys.” She hesitated for a minute. “It’s so good to have you home.”

“Thanks. It’s good to be here.”

An hour later, Luke pulled up to the porch and honked. Crystal put the hood up on the bright yellow slicker she’d found in the front closet and ran to get in.

“Hey, kid. What’s the big idea, dragging us out in the rain?”

“Nobody made you come.”

He grinned, his dimples flashing. “You mentioned food, didn’t you? I had no choice.”

“Someday, a girl is going to figure out the way to your heart really is through your stomach, and you’ll be completely defenseless.” Not that they hadn’t tried. According to Elyse, half the women in the church singles’ group had tried to cook their way into poor bachelor Luke’s heart.

“Yeah, well, it’s cheaper for me in the long run just to go to a restaurant. Believe me.”

He revved the motor and they bounced down the back road to Elyse’s house. The windshield wipers screeched but did little to wipe away the deluge of water.

Crystal’s seat belt locked in on the last pothole they hit before they pulled up at Elyse’s. She unfastened it and scooted over to the middle to rebuckle. She waved to Elyse, who ran toward them holding a huge black umbrella over her head. “Think you could slow down a little once she gets in, bro?”

Luke chuckled. “If I don’t, she’ll get out and walk. So yeah, I definitely will.”

Crystal smiled. Elyse’s aversion to any kind of risk was as much a part of her as Luke’s aversion to any woman who wanted to settle him down was of him. One of the great things about her family was that they loved each other in spite of individual quirks. Or maybe partly because of them.

Elyse wrestled the huge umbrella into submission, slid it behind the seat, and climbed up into the truck. She carefully fastened her seat belt before she turned to greet Crystal and Luke. “Are you sure we’re not crazy for getting out in this weather?”

Crystal shrugged. “Look at it this way—we’ll have Coffee Central to ourselves. And the little takeout menu said they have panini. Do you know how much I’ve been craving panini?”

“I don’t even know what a panini is,” Luke grumbled.

“Where did you get a takeout menu from Coffee Central?” Elyse asked as Luke pulled carefully onto the gravel road.

“Um ... I...”

“It was probably in the Coffee Central bag Jeremy left on the porch this morning,” Luke piped up.

Crystal snapped her head around to look at Luke. “When did you see the bag?”

“When I came up to find out what you were fixing for breakfast,” he said, grinning.

“You read the note?” she said.

“What note?” Elyse asked.

“My note,” Crystal snapped then regretted it immediately. “A note that Jeremy wrote on the bag. It was no big deal, just work stuff.”

“He wrote you a note about work on a Coffee Central bag and left a takeout menu?” Elyse’s expression was so puzzled that Crystal almost laughed. Almost.

“There was coffee and a muffin in the bag,” Luke volunteered as he flipped on his blinker to signal turning onto the highway leading to town.

“Cappuccino,” Crystal corrected.

“I couldn’t tell.”

She shot her brother a glare. “I guess I should be glad you didn’t take a sip to see.”

He snorted. “You should be glad there was still a bag there at all, as hungry as I was.”

Elyse shook her head. “I’m starting to think I’m sorry for asking where you got the menu.”

“It was no big deal.”

“You said that, kid,” Luke drawled.

“And I meant it.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way into town.

Luke pulled up to the door. “How’s that for curbside service?”

“Thanks.” Elyse retrieved her umbrella and climbed out as she opened it. “Want to share with me?” she asked Crystal.

Crystal shook her head. “Thanks anyway, I have my jacket.”

She unbuckled as Elyse hurried in the door. Just before she got out, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to face Luke.

A sheepish expression flitted across his face. “Sorry I got in your business. I should have left the bag alone.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. I know you. You had to see what was in it.”

“Pretty much.”

“At least you didn’t eat the muffin.” She flicked the brim of his hat. “That’s saying a lot.”

“Thanks.”

“Thanks for the curbside service.” She put her hood up, took a deep breath, and jumped out. “We’ll get a table,” she yelled as she slammed the door. Clutching her jacket tight around her, she ran through the blinding rain into the building.

Once inside, she slipped the dripping jacket off and hung it on a hook next to Elyse’s umbrella. Dry never felt so good.

She hurried down the aisle that led to the coffee shop. The little eatery was the hub of a big wheel, with aisles of books shooting out all around it like broad spokes. Crystal sighed. The perfect place to spend a rainy afternoon.

She’d barely settled at Elyse’s table when Luke joined them.

“How’d you stay so dry?” Crystal asked, trying to imagine his carrying an umbrella.

“I keep a trench coat behind the seat.”

“I’d like to have a picture of that,” Elyse joked.

Crystal nodded. “Luke McCord, undercover spy.”

“Or hard-boiled detective,” Elyse added.

“Speaking of hard-boiled...” Luke picked up a menu and flipped through it. “Wonder what they have to eat in this place.”

Crystal rattled his menu. “Hey you. We’re teasing you. You can’t ignore us. Why aren’t you making witty comebacks?”

He looked up at her. “Maybe because I’m weak from hunger and rebutting your silly jokes would burn up more calories than I can afford to lose.”

Were those worry lines around his eyes?

“I’m glad you’re taking a day off,” Elyse said softly. Crystal guessed that she could see the strain on their brother’s face as well.

“Hmph.” He twisted his mouth. “I’m not ‘taking’ a day off. I have no choice.”

Crystal nodded. “I guess you can’t do much carpentry work in the rain.”

He looked at her like she’d grown an extra head. “There’s plenty of inside work to be done. But until they get the driveway poured, there’s no way into the site when it’s coming down like this.”

“Are you very far behind schedule?”

He shrugged. “Define
very.
I’m not ready to ask Rachel to move the grand opening date. But if the weather doesn’t cooperate between now and then...”

“It will.” Elyse touched her brother’s sleeve. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” he growled. “I’m starving.” He cut his gaze toward Crystal. “Some of us didn’t get muffin and coffee care packages from a secret admirer.”

Crystal gasped. “Lucas Michael McCord, you take that back.” She stopped and met Elyse’s startled brown eyes. Then they both burst out laughing.

“You sound like a ten-year-old,” Elyse said.

Luke nodded smugly, but not before she saw his dimples flash. “Why do you think I call her kid?”

“Um, are y’all ready to order drinks?” The waitress smiled at them, keeping her gaze mostly on Luke.

He and Elyse both ordered Dr Pepper.

“Sweet tea,” Crystal said quickly. That was one thing she’d missed terribly. Sweet tea in the North just wasn’t the same.

“After we eat, I have to run down to the building supply and pick up a few things,” Luke said when the waitress was gone. “Hope that’s okay.”

Crystal looked around at the books in every direction. “I think I’ll stay and read while you’re gone.”

Elyse followed her glance. “Me, too. I never have enough time in here. And I don’t have any sessions scheduled today.”

“Dogs just woke up this morning and decided to behave?” Luke teased.

Elyse put her hand to her mouth in mock surprise. “Why didn’t I think of that? National Good Behavior Day for dogs. And here I thought everyone rescheduled because of the rain.”

Crystal sat back and sighed.

Luke whipped his head around to look at her. “What?”

She smiled. “It’s just good to be home. I’ve missed being with y’all so much.”

He hmphed. “Couldn’t prove—Ow.” He glared at Elyse. “Missed you, too,” he said gruffly.

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” Crystal said. “And I’m sorry Elyse kicked your shin.”

“Ankle,” he muttered.

Crystal laughed. “Either way, I’m sorry. I’ll be home more often from now on.” One thing had become apparent over the last few days. She hadn’t avoided the pain and grief when she left. She’d just carried it with her.

When they’d finished the last bite of their panini and paid the waitress, Luke pushed back his chair. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“We’ll be here,” Elyse said. She looked at Crystal. “If you need me, I’ll be in the dog section.”

Left to her own devices, Crystal wandered through the aisles. She picked up several books, but none really appealed to her. Then suddenly she saw them. On the clearance rack. Three different books about drama for children.

She thought about what Allie Montgomery had said about a local drama day camp. Working at the kids’ theater in New York had been so much fun. And this would be a much more short-term commitment. Crystal might not be able to do it this summer, but some other time, between plays, when she wanted to make an extended visit to the ranch, teaching a camp would be the perfect excuse.

She grabbed all three and made her way to a comfy-looking plush couch she’d passed a few minutes before and sank down on it with her books. Within minutes, she was lost in the world of introducing children to drama through workshops, summer camps, and community performances.

She was skimming the third book when she heard someone say, “Crys?”

She glanced up at a woman with short dark hair and dancing brown eyes. She was average sized, maybe a little bigger, but neat and pretty.

“Crystal McCord?” The woman said, her voice not quite so confident.

Crystal stared at her. Those eyes ... “Phoebe?”

“Yes. Oh, it’s so good to see you.”

Crystal stood and numbly allowed the woman to enfold her into a hug. “You, too.”

Even as she said the words, she realized they were a lie. It wasn’t good. She felt caught off guard, blindsided. Why hadn’t she considered the possibility of running into high school friends? Shady Grove was a small town.

“So you’re an actress in New York, huh?”

Crystal nodded again, wanting to ask about Phoebe’s life, but her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

“I married Derek Mullins about a year after...” Pain flashed across her face, looking out of place on her pleasant features. “Graduation.”

Crystal nodded inanely, wondering if she looked like a little bobble-head figure on a car dash. They both knew what Phoebe didn’t say. A year after the accident.

“Are you ... Do you...?” Crystal motioned toward Phoebe’s leg.

“I get along fine. You probably heard I had several surgeries on it. Now I set off the metal detectors at the airport. But I can walk. And I’m thankful for that.”

And you’re alive, Crystal thought.

As if reading her thoughts, Phoebe said, “It took me a long time to get over the fact that I lived.” She wrinkled her nose. “My therapist said it was classic survivor’s guilt.”

Crystal stared down at the brightly colored books splashed across the tan couch.

“Can we sit for a few minutes?” Phoebe motioned toward the sofa.

“I ... Okay.” Crystal sat stiffly, perched on the edge of the couch.

Phoebe settled in as Crystal had done earlier and picked up one of the books. She started idly bouncing it on her knee. Crystal remembered the habit like it was yesterday. Phoebe may not seem like it, but she was nervous. The thought calmed Crystal a little. Some things weren’t easy for anyone to talk about. It wasn’t just her.

“Over the last seven years, especially for the first year or two, I couldn’t quit wondering why. Why hadn’t I argued when Cami called shotgun? Why hadn’t I just had a party at my house like Mama wanted me to? Why hadn’t I called you when you didn’t show up and insist you go? Maybe if we’d gone right back and picked you up, those drunk kids would have been in the next county by the time we got to that spot in the road.”

Tears sparkled in Phoebe’s brown eyes now. And even though every word felt to Crystal like the stab of a knife, she was just getting started.

“You know, I always envied you and Cami for the closeness you had. Yet every time people would say, ‘There go the Three Musketeers,’ instead of, ‘There go the McCord twins,’ I felt incredibly blessed.”

Crystal sat, stone still, her eyes dry.

Phoebe bent the book in her hand back and forth and bounced it on her knee again. “Most people don’t have one friend like that in a lifetime, but I had two. Then I lost them both the same night.” She sighed and held the book still. “I’ve wanted to call you so many times, Crystal. But when I got out of the hospital, you were gone. I kept thinking that after you got past the worst of the grief, you’d call.”

But I never did,
Crystal thought, for the first time feeling guilty that she hadn’t. “I’m sorry.”