IT WAS NO SMALL THING, SAM’S GIVING UP HIS TICKETS to see Josh Turner perform in Boise. Sam was every bit as big a fan of the singer as his father, and he’d spent his own hard-earned cash to buy the tickets when they’d gone on sale months earlier. When Chet tried to refuse the offer, Sam had said, “Take ’em, Dad. I’m the one who told you to ask Mrs. Welch out. It’s the least I can do. Don’t want you falling on your face by taking her someplace lame.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Feeling as nervous as any teenager, he arrived at Janet Dunn’s home a little after four o’clock that Friday afternoon. Janet answered the ring of the doorbell.
“Come on in,” she said, taking a step back. “Kimmie’s almost ready.”
Chet ran the fingers of one hand through his hair as he moved inside. True to Janet’s word, Kimberly appeared out of one of the bedrooms a moment later. She wore a little black dress, and she looked stunning in it too. The dress had spaghetti straps and a full skirt that ended a couple of inches above her knees. On her feet she wore sky-high black heels. They made her shapely legs look like they were a million miles long. Her nails, both fingers and toes, sported apple-red polish that matched the small purse and sweater she carried.
“Wow,” he said, sounding breathless.
A smile curved the corners of her rosy mouth. “Thanks.”
Tara appeared behind her mother. “What time are you going to have her back, Mr. Leonard?” She sounded dead serious, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.
“Does she have a curfew?” he asked.
“One o’clock or she’s gonna be grounded.”
“Then I’ll have her back before one. Don’t want to get her grounded. If I do, she might not agree to go out with me again.”
Kimberly turned and gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek. She said something softly. Too softly for Chet to hear—and he was sorry for that. Then she moved toward him. He stepped to one side and motioned her through the open door, following right after her, feeling more than a little out of place. What was he doing with this beautiful, sophisticated woman? She was completely out of his league.
All you have to do is get through the next few hours without making a fool of yourself.
He opened the passenger door, then with a hand on her right forearm, helped her into the cab of the pickup. When he started the engine a few moments later, he saw Janet and Tara on the stoop, waving and grinning. Were they the reason Kimberly had accepted his invitation? He preferred to think she wanted to go out with him.
The drive down out of the mountains was mostly a silent one, Chet concentrating on the winding river road, Kimberly gazing out the window at the passing terrain. Pine trees gave way to sagebrush as they neared the valley floor.
Susan Lyle had told Chet of a nice restaurant near downtown. Warm and intimate but not too fancy or expensive. “The chef is marvelous,” she’d promised. Chet found the place without any trouble and lucked into a nearby parking space. Inside, the restaurant had soft lighting. A maître d’ escorted them to a table and, after they were seated, handed Chet a wine list.
“Do you care for something, Kimberly?”
She declined with a shake of her head.
“Thanks.” Chet handed the wine list back to the maître d’. “Nothing for us.”
When they were alone again, Kimberly asked, “Have you come here before?”
“No. Susan told me about it when she heard we were going to the concert.”
Kimberly offered a hesitant smile. “I thought maybe you brought all your first dates here. It’s very nice.”
“There’s only been one other first date since I got divorced.” He shrugged. “It didn’t go anywhere. I wasn’t ready and neither was she. But she and her husband have become good friends.”
“Her husband?”
“Allison and her ex remarried. I was glad to see it happen.”
Kimberly’s gaze wandered from Chet, taking in the room and other diners. When she looked at him again, she said, “How do you know you’re ready now? To start a relationship, I mean.”
“Not sure how to answer that. Emotionally, I’m ready to move on. But I was comfortable being a husband, and I’m not so sure of myself as a date. Do they even call it that today? Dating. I think I’ve forgotten how a guy’s supposed to get to know a girl. What’s the best way to impress her?”
HE WANTS TO IMPRESS ME? KIMBERLY FELT A PLEASANT warmth in her chest. How flattering.
“Let’s get the easy stuff out of the way first. Maybe that will help.” He cleared his throat. “How long were you and your husband married?”
“Fifteen years. You?”
“Marsha and I were married for twenty-one years.”
Kimberly took a sip from her water glass. “Did Marsha grow up in Kings Meadow too?”
Chet shook his head. “She was from Boise. We met at a rodeo and dated each other for a few years before we married. You and Ellis?”
“We met while I was in college and married right after I graduated.”
“Mind me asking how he died? Was it an accident?”
Kimberly stiffened. Talking about Ellis made her uncomfortable—because thinking about him often made her angry, and her anger made her feel guilty. She hadn’t shared the brutal truth of that anger with anyone. Not even Janet. “No, it wasn’t an accident,” she said at last. “He had a heart attack. There wasn’t any warning. Just suddenly he was gone. He was only forty.”
“Forty?” He shook his head again. “That’s mighty young.”
She lifted the water glass a second time and took a few more sips. “I believe it was the stress that killed him. Our finances had been unraveling for a long time, but he kept it a secret from me. Maybe if he’d shared the burden of all of—” She broke off suddenly, her throat tight.
“I’m sorry, Kimberly.” Chet’s words were as gentle as a caress.
She gave him a shaky smile. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay. What about this? You aren’t crazy about horses like your daughter.” He put his forearms on the edge of the table and leaned toward her. “So, what are you crazy about? What’s your passion, Kimberly Welch?”
“My passion?” Her gaze dropped to her hands, now folded in her lap.
She hadn’t a clue how to answer. She’d been in survival mode for such a long while. And before that . . . before Ellis died? When she looked back, many of her activities seemed shallow and self-absorbed. Buying new clothes and jewelry. Visiting the spa regularly. Redecorating their home . . . again . . . and then again. Lavishly entertaining Ellis’s business associates. Sending Tara to the best private school possible.
She drew a deep breath and looked at Chet again. “If I ever had something I was truly passionate about, I’ve forgotten it.” She forced a smile. “Tell me yours.”
“That’s easy.” He grinned. “I love the horses, of course. Always have. Love the ranch. Love living in Kings Meadow, knowing where my roots are. Above anything else, I love God and my family. That’s what I’m most passionate about.” He gave a slight shrug. “Doesn’t sound very exciting to some, I suppose, but it’s a great life.”
He was wrong. There was something about the tone of his voice, about the look in his eyes, that made what he said sound most appealing. Simple. Homespun. Down to earth. It was exciting, only in a different way. Wasn’t that odd?
“Penny for your thoughts,” he said, his voice low.
“Hasn’t the value for a thought gone up to at least a nickel?”
He chuckled, a sound so pleasant it caused her insides to twirl.
As if to rescue Kimberly from that feeling, the waitress arrived at their table to take their order. Neither of them had even glanced at the menu. Kimberly found the first thing that sounded good and pointed it out to the waitress. Chet ordered the same.
As soon as their server walked away, Kimberly turned the conversation to Tara and Wind Dancer, and Chet followed her lead.
JUDGING BY THE SMILE ON KIMBERLY’S LIPS WHEN the lights went up in the arena, she’d enjoyed the concert every bit as much as Chet had. Returning her smile, he took hold of her elbow and eased her out of their row and into the flow of people headed for the exits.
Night had arrived while they were inside the windowless arena. The air was cool enough for Kimberly to need the sweater she’d carried with her all evening. They stepped to one side of the departing throng and stopped. Chet took the red sweater from her hand and held it up so she could slip her arms into the sleeves. As he stood behind her, the breeze carried the now familiar citrus scent of her shampoo, teasing his nostrils.
Sam was right. Chet liked Kimberly. A lot. Far more than he’d been willing to admit up to now. Far more than he’d thought possible, given his past, given their differences. To be honest with himself, he could be falling in love with her. Which didn’t seem like a smart thing to do. Unless, of course, he could convince her to stay in Idaho, in Kings Meadow, for good.
On the drive home, they talked about their favorite songs from the concert. Kimberly didn’t know a lot about country music—that was obvious—but she’d become a fan of Josh Turner tonight. That pleased Chet.
After all, if she could change her taste in music, maybe he could change her mind about staying in Kings Meadow too.