What She'd Do for Love (2 page)

The next morning Christa was surprised to find her mother seated at the breakfast table, sipping coffee and reading the paper, Jet curled at her feet, while her father scrambled eggs and made toast. “You’re making breakfast?” Christa asked, unable to hide her surprise. Her mother was the one who cooked, while her father read the paper.

“I can do a lot of things you don’t know about. Coffee’s over there.” He nodded to the current generation of the drip coffeemaker that had been a fixture in that corner of the kitchen for as long as Christa could remember.

She poured a cup of coffee and sat at her familiar place at the round wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. Her father slid a plate of eggs and toast in front of her, and Jet moved over to sit by her chair, hoping for a handout. She slipped him a bite of egg. “This looks good,” she said, noting the fluffy pile of eggs and just-brown toast with twin yellow pools of butter. “Good for you, Mom, letting Dad wait on you for a change.”

Her mother winced and set down her coffee cup. “Did you get everything sorted in your room?” she asked.

“Pretty much. I didn’t bring a lot.” She paused for a bite of egg and toast—not as good as her mom’s, but not bad. “I only plan to stay a few weeks—a couple of months at most. Just until I can regroup and find a new job.”

“It’s a shame about Pemberton,” Mom said. “You always sounded so happy when you talked about your work there.”

“It was the perfect job,” Christa said. “I got along great with everyone, and I loved the creative challenge of designing new marketing programs. We did everything from single print ads to lengthy television campaigns. My clients were a nice mix of private companies and nonprofits. My bosses were great, and the location was ideal.” She got a little choked up, just thinking about how lucky she’d been to land such a great position right out of college. She’d planned to stay there until she retired.

“I’m sure you’ll find something else you’ll love just as much,” Mom said. “Where have you applied so far?”

“Um, I’m still considering my options.” She enjoyed the last of the toast and egg. “I don’t want to rush into anything I’ll regret.”

“You can stay here as long as you like,” Mom said. “I’m sure it will be nice for you to touch base with your friends in town. What did you plan to do today?”

She pushed aside her empty plate. “I hadn’t planned on doing much of anything. I thought it would be nice for the two of us to visit.”

Mom and Dad tried to be subtle, but Christa would have had to be blind to miss the look they exchanged—as if they were two guilty crooks agreeing on a cover story. “I want you to run some errands in town for me,” Mom said. “I need a few things.”

“Why don’t we go together?” Christa said. “We could have lunch at the Blue Bell.” The Blue Bell Café was an institution in Cedar Grove. Christa and her mom had shared many confidences—from discussions of first bras and first boyfriends to the pros and cons of various colleges and career paths—over coffee and pie at the Blue Bell. Going there today would be like old times.

But Mom shook her head. “I’ll be much too busy here at the ranch. I’d rather you went for me.”

“All right. I can do that.” Christa wanted to ask what her mother would be so busy with, but another evasive answer would hurt too much, so she pushed her curiosity aside.

After breakfast, Christa washed the dishes, then took the list her mother gave her and headed to Cedar Grove. The town seemed somewhat more lively this morning, with cars parked in front of most of the businesses. Her first stop was the library, where Mrs. Franklin manned the front desk, as she had for most of Christa’s life. “I’ve got the books your mother requested right here,” Mrs. Franklin said. She slid the stack of volumes toward Christa and studied her over the tops of her half glasses. “Are you home to stay, or is this another quick visit?”

“I’ll be here for a few weeks. Maybe as long as a couple of months. I was laid off from my job in Houston.” She might as well admit it up front; it wouldn’t take long for the news to spread in a town the size of Cedar Grove.

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear. I can’t say you’ll find a lot of job opportunities in this neck of the woods, but if I learn of anyone hiring, I’ll let you know.”

Christa seriously doubted she’d find a position in town that would utilize her marketing degree, but she appreciated Mrs. Franklin’s concern. “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’m really here because I thought it would be nice to spend more time with my folks while I’m between jobs.”

“That’s good. I’m sure both your parents appreciate the help.” Mrs. Franklin tapped a few keys on her computer and studied the screen. “Your old library card is still good, so feel free to use it while you’re here. And we have a women’s book club that meets the second Thursday evening of every month. You should come.”

“Maybe I will. Thanks again.”

Next on the list was the Blue Bell Café, for a jar of Etta Mae Cook’s strawberry jam. “I thought Adele made all her own jam,” Etta Mae said, after she’d given Christa a hug and slipped the jar of jam into a brown paper sack.

“Maybe she didn’t have time this summer,” Christa said. “She said she’s been busy—too busy to even come to town with me today.”

“Well, you tell her I’m flattered to know she likes my jam so much. She should stop by for coffee and a chat next time she’s around.”

“I’ll tell her. Thank you.”

“And you should come back Friday morning. The Chamber of Commerce eats breakfast here and everyone is invited. They’re always looking for volunteers.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to be pretty busy updating my résumé and applying for jobs.”

“I hope you find one, honey. I wish Cedar Grove had more to offer young folks like you. Maybe this new highway will bring some new businesses and jobs with it.”

“But I thought the highway was going to bypass the town,” Christa said.

“Well, it is, dear. But there’s talk of development out by the highway, so I guess businesses will gradually move out that way. I’m hoping for the best.”

Christa wished she shared Etta Mae’s optimism. The highway project might just as well be the death knell for the little town she loved. “I guess I’d better see to these other errands.” She held up the list her mother had given her. “But I’ll be back soon for a piece of your wonderful pie and a cup of coffee.”

“I’ll save one for you.” Etta Mae winked, then turned to wait on the next customer.

By the time Christa walked into the Cedar Grove Bank an hour later, she was beginning to suspect that her mother had written her list with the goal of reacquainting Christa with as many familiar faces in town as possible, and luring her into all the clubs and activities. The teller, whose nameplate identified her as Traci, was a stranger to Christa, which was almost a relief. At least here, no one would feel obligated to invite her to join the gardening club or to volunteer with the 4H, as had happened at the Post Office and the Seed and Feed. “May I help you?” Traci asked.

“My mom sent me for paper coin sleeves,” Christa said. “I guess she has a bunch of change to roll.”

“Oh, sure.” The teller opened a drawer and took out a fistful of coin wrappers for pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters, and slid them across the counter to Christa. “Here you go. Anything else?”

She glanced at the sign that offered free checking. “I’m going to be here a little while,” she said. “Maybe a couple of months. Could I open an account for just that time? It would make banking easier.”

“Sure you can.” She looked past Christa to the young man who sat at the desk across from her. “Paul, can you help this customer with a new account?”

Christa recognized a boy who had been a couple grades ahead of her in school. So much for thinking she could come to the bank without seeing someone she knew. “Paul Raybourn, it’s good to see you,” she said.

“Christa. Great to see you.” She sat in the chair across from his desk and they spent a few minutes catching up. She learned Paul had married a classmate of hers, Didi Moffat, and they had a baby boy, Alex. She told him about her job loss and her plans to spend the summer at the ranch.

“After living in the city, the ranch is going to seem dull as dirt,” he said. “I predict in two weeks you’ll be dying for any excuse to get out of town.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “I liked Houston, but I’m a small-town girl at heart. After so much upheaval in my life lately, I’m looking forward to a stable, comfortable routine.”

“If you say so. I could do with a bit more excitement, myself.”

“I guess the new highway is going to bring a bit of excitement to town,” she said.

“It already has, what with folks taking sides over whether or not this project is a good thing for Cedar Grove.”

“And what do you think?” Christa asked.

“My view is, it’s already a done deal, so we might as well make the best of it.” He gave her the forms to complete to open a checking account and she was busy writing when Paul looked over her shoulder and said. “Hey, Ryder. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

She turned to see a good-looking, tall man striding across the bank. Dressed in pressed khakis and a sport coat, he stood out among the jeans and snap button shirts of most of the men. When he smiled, dimples formed on either side of his mouth. His sandy brown hair dipped low across his forehead, above a pair of deep blue eyes.

“Christa Montgomery, I’d like you to meet Ryder Oakes. Ryder’s staying in town for the summer, too.”

Christa rose and took Ryder’s offered hand. “Hello, Mr. Oakes.”

“Please, call me Ryder. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His voice was soft and deep. A caressing kind of voice.

Where had that thought come from? She wasn’t the type of woman who was easily bowled over by a handsome man—but she had to admit Ryder Oakes made her heart flutter a little. The thought almost made her laugh. Talk about bad timing. She needed to focus on finding a new job and getting her life back on track—the last thing she needed was the distraction of a romantic relationship.

“What brings you to town, Ryder?” she asked, determined to regain her composure.

“Work. My job takes me all over.”

“Ryder’s an engineer,” Paul offered. “He’s a University of Texas alum, like you.”

Too bad she’d never run into him on campus. He looked a few years older than her, tiny lines fanning out from the corners of those gorgeous eyes. She searched for some remark to keep the conversation going. “Traveling all the time must get old.”

“I grew up in a military family. My dad was in the army, so I’m used to moving a lot.”

“Christa’s family owns the Rocking M, just south of town.” Paul apparently felt his role was to fill in details, like a teacher coaxing two reluctant children together.

Or a matchmaker. She bit back a groan.

“It’s a beautiful place,” Ryder said.

So he knew the ranch. That wasn’t so unusual. If he’d spent much time around Cedar Grove at all, he was bound to have driven by her parents’ place. “We think so.”

“I’m sure Bud and Adele are happy to have you home.”

His use of her parents’ first names surprised her. “How long have you been in Cedar Grove?” she asked.

“Not quite a month. I’ve really been trying to get to know people though.”

He’d covered a lot of ground in that month—odd for someone who was only going to be here temporarily.

“Christa could introduce you to a lot of people,” Paul said. “She was Miss Cedar Grove her senior year of high school. And growing up here, she knows pretty much everybody.”

Paul was definitely matchmaking—as if a man like Ryder would be impressed with her brief stint as the local beauty queen. “You know more people than I do now,” she said. “After all, I’ve been in Houston the past few years.” She handed him her stack of papers. “I think that’s everything.”

Paul looked at the papers in his hands, as if he’d forgotten why they were all gathered around his desk. But he recovered quickly. “Great. Let me get you an account number and you’ll be all set. We can transfer funds from your account in Houston and you’ll have access right away.”

“Are you moving back to town from Houston?” Ryder asked.

“Just staying here for a little while, visiting my parents.” She wasn’t about to explain her job and money woes to this handsome stranger. She might not be interested in dating Ryder, but she didn’t want to come off like a loser in front of him, either.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask for more details. His phone buzzed and he slipped it from his pocket. “I’d better get this. It was nice meeting you, Christa. I hope I’ll see you again.”

These last words sent another shiver of awareness through her. Oh, Ryder Oakes was something all right. Too bad it was impossible for her to get involved with anyone right now.

CHAPTER TWO

T
HE
CALLER
ID
on Ryder’s cell indicated that the call was from his mother. His mother who, as far as he could remember, had never called him in the middle of a work day. “Mom! Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine. Why would you think something is wrong?”

“You never call me during the day.”

“I’m on my lunch break and I wanted to catch you while you were still in cell range. I know how it is on some of those ranches—no cell tower for miles.”

“Okay.” He relaxed a little. “So what’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking—instead of you coming for dinner on Saturday, I’d like to come there and see you. We can go to lunch somewhere.”

“Sure. If that’s what you’d prefer.” His mother lived in Dallas and since Ryder had relocated to Cedar Grove, she’d made it a point to have him over for a meal at least once a week. He hadn’t spent so much time with a parent since he’d graduated high school, but he had to admit, it was nice having Mom close.

“I want to see where you live,” she said.

“It’s nothing fancy—just a furnished rental.” He didn’t need more, since his stay here wasn’t going to be permanent.

“Humor me. Now give me your address.”

He rattled off the details and the main cross streets. “My new car has GPS,” she said. “I’m sure I can find it. I’ll see you about noon Saturday, then.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

He pocketed the phone and added “Clean apartment” to his mental to-do list. He wondered if his mom wanted to see him so much because she was lonely. After all, she’d married Ryder’s dad right out of high school. To be on her own at this point in her life had to be tough. Of course, she’d been the one to ask for a divorce—something that still shocked Ryder. He’d thought his parents were happy in their marriage, or as happy as any couple ever was.

He’d better pick up some soft drinks and snack stuff at the store this afternoon; his provisions were limited to coffee, a loaf of bread and some lunch meat and condiments. He ate out for most of his meals. He fully expected Mom to fuss about his lack of a proper diet, a proper home or even a steady girlfriend. She rarely pried into his personal life, but she had strongly hinted that she thought it was time for him to settle down.

Hard to do when his job kept him on the road. His stint in Cedar Grove was likely to be one of the longest of his career, but even though plenty of women had indicated they’d be interested in getting to know him better, so far he’d kept his distance. Relationships always complicated things, especially when it came time to leave town.

That didn’t stop people from trying to match him up with eligible females, though. Christa Montgomery was beautiful, no doubt about that, with dark brown hair that fell just to her shoulders, and clear brown eyes that had met his gaze with no hint of coyness or flirtation. That air of confidence and calm assuredness made her all the more attractive. He’d like to get to know her better.

That wasn’t a new feeling for him; he met women all the time who might interest him, as he traveled around the state, overseeing various highway and bridge projects. But he was always careful not to start what he couldn’t finish. He’d told the truth when he’d said his job required a lot of travel. He didn’t mind, but being away from a home base so much made it tough to form relationships. He might date a woman one week, then not see her again for six or eight weeks. Texting and e-mailing couldn’t take the place of a physical connection. And he wasn’t the type to have a girl in every town, like some of the other engineers in his group.

But he’d settle for friendship—or a summer romance. If Christa wasn’t planning to stay in Cedar Grove, maybe she’d appreciate some company for a few months. It would be nice to have someone to hang out with, to take in a movie or dinner, without the worry that she’d expect a more lasting commitment.

He stepped back into the bank, but Christa was gone. Paul looked up from his desk. “Is there something I can help you with, Ryder?” he asked.

Ryder remembered why he’d come to the bank in the first place. “We’re going to have a lot of workers in and out of Cedar Grove for the next couple of years as construction on the highway progresses,” he said. “I wanted to make sure there won’t be a problem cashing their checks.”

“No problem at all.” Paul laughed. “I mean, if the state isn’t good for the money, we’re all in trouble.”

He scanned the lobby once more, wondering if Christa had slipped out the side door—to avoid him?

“If you’re looking for Christa, she said she had more errands to run,” Paul said. “I take it she just got back to town yesterday afternoon.”

“I guess she’s staying at the Rocking M, with her parents?” He regretted the question as soon as he saw Paul’s eyes light up.

“She is,” the banker said. “She’s been living in Houston since she graduated a few years ago, working at some big marketing firm. I guess the economic slump hit them the way it has almost everyone else. They laid off a bunch of people and she was one of the casualties. But I’m sure another firm will snap her up. She was always sharp.”

“So she’s only here temporarily, until she finds a new job.”

“I guess that’s the plan. But we all know plans can change.” He grinned. “The number at the ranch is in the local directory, if you want to give her a call.”

He bit back the impulse to tell Paul that he didn’t need anyone else to set him up with a woman. He already had to dodge the local women who went out of their way to flirt and even outright proposition him. Something about a new, single man in town sent some females into overdrive.

But Christa wasn’t like that. She’d been friendly, but cool. Not the kind of woman to throw herself at any man.

Which, in the perverse nature of the human spirit, made her all that much more attractive. But he wasn’t going to let Paul know that. For some reason, the banker had made it his mission to introduce Ryder to every eligible woman in the county.

Time to change the subject. “Are you going to be at the public forum tomorrow night?” he asked. This was the last in a series of community gatherings in the area to answer questions about the new highway project. Ryder’s job was to persuade people that the project was a good and positive thing for the people around here.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Worry lines formed on Paul’s forehead. “Are you concerned about the reception you’ll receive?”

“I know some people are unhappy with me, but I’m hoping when I explain the benefits, I can sway them to my side.” He believed the highway was a good thing, though he understood people’s fears about having traffic siphoned from an already dying town. But the new route meant new opportunity. He’d help people see that.

“The other meetings—with the other people the state sent to talk to us—didn’t always go so well,” Paul said.

“I’m not those other people.” The state had chosen him because of his ability to interact with a variety of people. Another lesson he’d learned from life as a military nomad.

“There are some pretty tough old cowboys around here. Set in their ways.”

“I was never one to back down from a battle.” His father had taught him that much. Except his weapons of choice were logic and control, not firearms. Facts and figures beat raw emotion any day, though it took some people longer than others to see that.

* * *

P
INK
GERANIUMS
BLOOMED
in half barrels flanking the door to the Cedar Grove Salon, where Christa had received her very first permanent wave from her best friend Kelly Jepson’s mother, Janet. Someone had added the words “and Day Spa” after “Salon” on the familiar sign, but when Christa stepped through the front door, the salon was just as she remembered it. Black padded chairs faced antique dressers that served as the stylists’ stations, and the air smelled of peroxide, hair spray and fruity shampoos. An older woman sat under a dryer in the corner, and Janet was just finishing a cut on another woman at her station.

As the string of sleigh bells on the back of the door fell silent, Kelly hurried from the back of the shop. “Christa!” she cried, and ran forward to hug her friend. Short, with a halo of brown curls framing her face, Kelly had gone into business with her mother right after high school. She and Christa kept in touch via Facebook and too-infrequent visits. “Etta Mae stopped by a little while ago and told us you were in town. For a while, I hope.”

“A few weeks. Maybe a few months. Did Etta Mae tell you I’d lost my job?”

“She didn’t say—I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved your work.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m still kind of in shock.”

“So you had no idea the layoff was coming?” Kelly asked.

“None. No one did. Apparently, the company had been in trouble for a while and we never knew.”

“That’s tough, but you’ll bounce back. In the meantime, I’m thrilled you’re home. And your hair looks gorgeous.” Kelly fingered the blunt-cut ends of Christa’s hair with a proprietary air. “Come see me when you’re ready for a trim.”

“Of course.” She waved at Janet, who nodded even as she wielded her blow-dryer and comb. “Stepping in here is just like coming home—everything so familiar.”

“Not everything,” Kelly protested. “Didn’t you see the sign? We’re a day spa now, too. We have a massage therapist who works three days a week, and I’m certified to do facials and waxing.”

“I guess that’s good,” Christa said. “Just don’t change too much.”

“We’ve got to keep up with the times,” Kelly said. “Do what we can to bring in new customers.”

“Not that any of it’s doing us much good.” Janet joined them at the front counter as her customer left. “I guess you noticed how many businesses around town have closed or are for sale,” she said.

“My dad said the drought and the economy have hit everyone hard,” Christa said. “It’s awful.”

“And now that new highway is going to send everybody flying right by without even knowing Cedar Grove is here,” Janet said.

“Some people are talking about moving out nearer the new highway,” Kelly said. “A developer has plans for a big new shopping center there.”

“Where the rent will be twice what we pay here,” Janet said.

“Mom has been a little stressed out about all of this.” Kelly frowned.

“Don’t get me started.” Janet waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “It’s good to have you back, Christa. I’ve got to go see to Mrs. Newsome.” She turned and headed for the woman under the dryer.

“Are you really thinking of moving the salon?” Christa asked.

Kelly shrugged. “Maybe. Mama doesn’t like change, but I think it could be a good thing. Along with the shopping center, there’s talk of a new housing development going in. The new highway will shorten the commute to Dallas, so the theory is more people will want to move out to the country. We could have a whole bunch of new clients for the salon. If we don’t move, some chain will set up shop and take all our business. I think Mama will come around—I just have to work on her.”

“I always admired your ability to see the bright side of things,” Christa said. “I guess I’m with your mother—I don’t like change. Did anyone even try to persuade the state that the route they chose for the highway wasn’t the best? It seems to me they didn’t have to bypass Cedar Grove altogether.”

“Some people raised a fuss at first, but you know how it is—the state always has an answer for every objection. They said this route was the only economical one. They held a series of meetings to present their plans. There’s another one tomorrow night.”

“Are you planning to attend?”

Kelly sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to, but Mama insists on going, and I go to help keep her calm. Frankly, I’ll be glad when they break ground. Once construction is under way, I think she’ll see there’s nothing we can do to stop it. Besides, I’m looking forward to another advantage of the construction project.”

“What’s that?” Christa asked.

“There’ll be lots and lots of men working on the project and they’ll be staying in town for up to two years. Some of them are bound to be young and single.”

Christa thought of Ryder Oakes. He’d said he was an engineer. Was he connected with the new highway project? The idea left a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn’t be as optimistic as Kelly about the effect the highway would have on her hometown. “I think I’ll go to the meeting, too,” she said. “If Mom and Dad don’t need me for anything. I want to hear what the state’s representatives have to say.”

If nothing else, focusing on this new highway would take her mind off her own problems, for a few hours, at least.

* * *

E
RRANDS
COMPLETED
, C
HRISTA
drove back to the ranch, where everything was exactly as she’d expected to find it yesterday, but hadn’t. Today her father, dressed in a crisp long-sleeved Western shirt, freshly shaved, his hair neatly cut and combed, waved at her as he rode across the front pasture on his favorite horse, a sorrel gelding named Peanut. Mom, looking fresh and rested in denim capris and a pink blouse, opened the door as soon as Christa stepped out of the car and greeted her with a hug. At her side, Jet barked happily and wagged his tail in greeting. As Christa followed her mother into the house, the smell of roasting meat and baking pies greeted her.

The events of the day before might have been a bad dream. “Thank you for running those errands for me,” Mom said, relieving Christa of her packages. “It was a big help. How was your afternoon?”

“Fine. Etta Mae says hello. She wants to have coffee with you soon.”

“I’ll have to do that. Did you stop by the salon and see Kelly?”

“Yes.” Christa trailed her mom and Jet into the kitchen, where a pair of peach pies—Christa’s favorite—sat cooling on the counter. “She told me they might move the salon after the new highway is built.”

“That sounds smart.” Mom dumped the coin papers in the drawer beneath the phone—the repository for all the miscellaneous items no one knew what to do with.

The back door opened and Dad stepped inside, removing his Stetson as he did so, and setting it, crown down, on a shelf above the row of coat hooks. “How are things in town?” he asked Christa.