Ryder got back on the road and drove three towns over to a small inn with a diner known for its home-style cooking. “It’s not fancy, but it’s a date.”
He got out of the car and walked to the other side to let her out. He took her hand and guided her to the door, one hand on the small of her back.
“Two for an early dinner, please.”
The silver-haired woman had sparkling blue eyes. “My pleasure. Will you two follow me?”
They did, and as he pulled out Lorri’s chair, the woman said, “Today is special for the two of you, isn’t it?”
Lorri nodded, and Ryder said, “Very much.”
“May I have the pleasure of choosing your menu for you today?”
They looked at each other. “Can’t say anyone has ever offered before. That sounds lovely.” Ryder reached across the table and took Lorri’s hand in his.
He liked showing her around Dalton Mill, telling her the history about things, and surprising her. She reacted with enthusiasm at the smallest of things. She could afford any of it on her own, yet she was so humble and appreciative. Even something so small as presenting her with her own brush for Dottie. Something that would stay on his farm, but she was as delighted as if it had been jewelry.
The more he got to know Lorri, the more he wanted to know and the more he wanted to share with her.
It made him feel special to lift her up with those little kindnesses, but sitting here with her today he realized there was even more about her that was precious to him.
They were served a beautiful pastry-wrapped chicken dish with fresh collards and carrots. “The presentation is lovely,” Lorri said.
“I hope you two enjoy it.”
“We will.” He watched as the woman disappeared into the kitchen. With it being so early in the afternoon, they were the only two in the restaurant. “I’d enjoy a peanut butter sandwich right now. Who knew driving the getaway car worked up such an appetite?”
“I’m hungry too.”
They ate the special entrée and celebrated with a slice of chocolate cake.
“One piece, two forks,” Ryder had said.
Lorri fought him for the last bite, and he liked that about her.
“Are you ready to get back to town?”
“I hope the party is over.”
He pulled out his phone and texted someone. “They are cleaning up. You’re home free.”
He settled the bill with the woman, then walked Lorri back out to the car. “How did you get to The Wedding Ranch this morning?”
“I took the back road. The way we went when we went horseback riding.”
“Aren’t you clever. You walked through that field? That’s a hike.”
“I was determined.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Not really. No, I take that back. If that’s the humbling road I needed to take to get us to here … I’m glad I did it.”
“Me too. Plus, I kind of like this adventurous side of you.”
“It’s new.”
He drove her to her car. “It was a good day.”
“It was. I guess now I can remember this day as our day, not his.”
“Me too. Mind if I come by tomorrow evening? I want to take you to dinner.”
“I’d like that.”
He watched her drive off, then sat down in the grass, listening to the creek in the distance and letting nature happen around him. It was nearly dark by the time he got into the old car and put it back in the garage.
The next day he drove over to Lorri’s. He planned to clarify some of those early vague answers he’d given her before. He rapped on the wood door next to the colorful fall wreath she’d recently hung. He wasn’t usually a fan of that girly kind of stuff, but this wreath was void of ribbons and ruffles. Vivid maple leaves in a range of colors swirled around a twig base, and wheat, cotton pods, and even dried soybeans filled the circle. All it lacked were a few golden tobacco leaves; maybe he’d bring her a couple, or ask her to make him one.
“You’re early. I love that about you.”
“Dad always said if you’re going to be late don’t even bother. I guess he drove that into me.”
“A good habit, but I think I’d rather have you late than not at all. Come on in. I’ll let Mister out and we can leave.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I thought we were going to dinner?”
“Yes, we are, but I’m cooking for you. At my house, and Mister is invited.”
“Well, how about that, Mister?” Her mouth dropped, surprised, but pleased. “He’ll love it.”
He’d let her think he lived down at the creek; this was one of those vague pieces of information he needed to correct. “Yeah, about the Rest Stop. That’s not where I live.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “That’s my hideaway. The kids needed my place for your friends to stay while they were in town.”
“Cody and Kasey?”
“And their son, yes. So I stayed down there for the week while they used my place.”
“You really are a good sport.”
“Family. It was really a minor imposition. I used to hang out down at the creek all the time. I’m glad the situation forced me to do it again.”
“Me too, else I may have never experienced that. I’d love to go now that the leaves are in their full color. I know it’s gorgeous.”
“It is.”
“You’d do anything for Reece and Ross. I like that about you.”
“When I agreed to let them lease those few acres to start The Wedding Ranch, I promised I’d do whatever I could to help them make it work. It’s not exactly my kind of thing, but they both believe in it so much.”
“That’s really neat.”
“Well, I didn’t think that through very well. I’ve been kicked out of my house, driven horse and buggies, even chauffeured people from the airport in my pickup truck. People want these authentic country, farm, or western weddings, and they are paying big-time for it. My old tractor has spent more time on photo shoots than in the fields the last year.”
“I think it’s nice.” She grabbed a light jacket. “So where do you live then?”
“Not far. Just up the road. Y’all ready?”
“Absolutely.” Lorri grabbed Mister’s leash, but didn’t put it on him.
He jumped right into Ryder’s truck, hanging his head between the seats as Ryder drove out of the neighborhood to the main road. Instead of left toward the venue, he took a right and followed the road around two sharp curves. There was nothing but farmland out in this direction, and she’d only been this way a time or two. He slowed to turn into a driveway between tall stacked stone pillars. Fancy wooden gates parted. As they drove forward they went under a huge timber that spanned the whole driveway. Black iron plates connected them like one of those old Texas ranch entrances.
“It’s like Southfork,” she said, referring to the fancy estate on the show Dallas she’d seen in reruns.
“Hardly. This is rough-cut timbers and working solutions, no high society.”
“It’s beautiful just the same.”
“Thank you.”
The old farmhouse with a wraparound porch stood out bright white against the land. Wooden barns in the hues that only weather and age can create looked warm below the shiny metal roofs.
“You look surprised,” he said.
“Well, I am. I thought you lived at the Rest Stop. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s a far cry from this.”
“My sister, your veterinarian, lives just over there.” He pointed toward a more modern brick home sitting up on the rise. He got out and walked around to her side.
When he opened the door, Mister bounded to the ground. A chicken clucked and called out a frantic squawk as Mister took a leap toward it.
“Mister!” Lorri hopped out and raced in that direction. “No. Bad dog.”
Ryder stood there laughing. “Don’t worry. He’ll figure it out.”
Hopefully, I will too.
Lorri came back out of breath. “I’m so sorry. If he catches one, I promise to replace it.”
“The chickens can get back in the coop if they’re scared. They’ve been chased by far more adept hunters than your house pet. We’ve got coyotes and fox out here. I’m not worried about them in the slightest.”
She seemed to calm down. He ushered her inside and straight into the kitchen. The brick floor told of days gone by, especially in places where it was worn smooth. He liked the history that held. Although the appliances were all brand new, the big fireplace at the far end was his favorite part. Old and reliable. He’d started the fire earlier and the coals glowed hot. He planned to treat Lorri to his famous cast iron cooking tonight.
“The fire is nice,” she said.
“I’m cooking our dinner there. Old cowboy style. Cast iron and Dutch ovens.”
“What’s on our menu?”
He leaned against the kitchen island, gripping the hefty butcher block in his palms, and crossing one boot over the other. “Steaks, and I’m hoping you like them rare.”
“I do.”
“I knew I liked you. Most city folk seem to want to cook the life out of a steak, or smother it in marinade and sauces. Not me. Let’s see, also have some sweet potatoes, broccoli, and my famous fire-roasted cornbread.”
“Famous?”
“Famous around here, and apple cobbler.”
“Oh my gosh. You really can cook. I don’t know how I can help, but you tell me what to do, and I’ll try my best. I’m good at following directions.”
“I don’t mind being the cook around here.”
“I don’t mind that either.”
He put his arm around her waist. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
He handed her an apron, then put one over his head and tied it behind his back. Standing there in her green and white apron, she looked cute and completely uncomfortable, but being with her just got easier and easier.
He placed a bowl of mushrooms on the island in front of her. “You can handle this. Slice them into smaller pieces and toss them in this bowl.” He plucked the stem from one of the bigger mushrooms. “Just pull the stems like this. We won’t use that part.”
She did as he showed her while he worked on getting his cast iron pieces in place and seasoning the steaks. Then he mixed the cornbread recipe.
She leaned over the skillet looking at the soupy mixture. “That’s going to turn into bread?” She shook her head. “I’m no cook, but I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.”
He put the pan on the coals and covered it with the heavy lid.
“Trust the process, my friend Lorri.”
It struck his happy button, the way she giggled when he called her that.
Smells mingled with the hickory he’d just added to the fire, a sweet and savory mix. Ryder turned on some music, and they settled in the chairs in the keeping room on the other side of the fireplace. Comfortable conversation stole the time, and when he glanced at his watch it was past the time he’d meant to check on things.
He used heavy gloves and tongs to lift the lids.
“Dinner is ready.” He carried the dutch oven to the counter to slice the steaks into narrow strips, pulling all the fatty edges off and piling them into a bowl.
“Those steaks are massive!”
“Mister. Dinner’s ready.” He leaned close. “I knew I had that guy to feed.”
“Oh my gosh,” Lorri said. “He’ll never eat dog food again.”
“Sure he will.”
Mister gobbled the dish of beef, then sprawled out on the floor. Ryder pulled the Dutch oven off the fire. He fixed their plates in the kitchen, then they went into the dining room.
He pulled out a heavily upholstered chair for Lorri. The flower arrangement looked like he was trying too hard, but it was truly just a happy accident.
“My niece cleans my house,” he explained as he took his seat. “She does stuff like that.” He twisted the pumpkin-shaped vase to the side, so he could see Lorri better. “Didn’t want you to think that was my doing. Flowers aren’t my thing, although I do like them.”
“I like it.”
“Me too. Makes it feel homier. You deserve them. I just didn’t want to take the credit.”
“Thank you.”
“Dig in while it’s hot.”
They ate, not bothering with a lot of small talk. He gave her a few cooking pointers and promised to cook for her again.
“I’m stuffed,” she said, placing her napkin on the table. “That was a five-star meal.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I’ll pack up some leftovers for you. I always cook too much. I can’t seem to remedy that.”
“My lucky day.” She pushed her chair back. “I’ll help you clean up.”
“No. Let me do it, please? Make yourself at home.”
“You don’t mind?”
“No. It won’t take me but a few minutes. I’ve got a system. Then we’ll eat cobbler on the patio.”
“Okay, but no cobbler for Mister. I put my foot down on sweets.”
“Fine. You’re the boss.” He cleaned up and dished dessert into two small oval dishes. He used a melon scooper to put ice cream on each and then drizzled a thin line of dark chocolate across the top.
He walked out of the kitchen with the dessert, looking for Lorri. He saw her in the study standing at Valerie’s secretary, a piece her mom had found at an auction in Virginia. Lorri’s hand shook as she lifted the picture of Valerie and Ronnie Dwayne.
The silver frame had been a wedding present. Ornate and heavy. The black and white photo had been taken in the hayfield the summer before the wreck. He could still hear their laughter when he looked at it.
He wondered what she heard.
He watched her trembling fingers move from the picture to the article that had run in the local paper. He wished he’d thought to put it away. His insides screamed for her to move away from it.
She did and he breathed a sigh.
Lorri must’ve heard him exhale. Her hands retreated to her sides.
With a forced smile she said, “You collect butterflies,” nodding toward the collection displayed in the glass shadow box hanging on the wall. “That’s how you knew that yellow one was a lisa that day when we were riding.”
“I don’t. My sister, Diane, used to collect them. She’s always loved them. I learned from her.” He walked over to a shelf. “Me? I collected rocks.”
“Rocks?”
“Mm-hmm. Still do sort of. When I was young, I could entertain myself all day long sifting through the gravel they brought for the driveway. It was a private road back then. I just knew I was going to find rubies and emeralds. As I got older, I learned about the gemstones that could be found here in North Carolina. I have a ton of them. This isn’t even half of them.” He pulled out small square drawers, one at a time. “Emeralds, jasper, rubies—”
“That’s not a ruby. Rubies are red.” She raised her hand, flaunting the ruby and diamond band on her right hand. “I know. They’re my birthstone.”
“It might not look like much in its raw form, but I assure you those are rubies. Come here.” He led her to his desk on the other side of the long room. He’d made it from a jeweler’s display case, using big chunky wooden legs from a table that had seen better days, and the glass case as the top. Beneath that glass were all kinds of gems, some polished, others just piles of dusty rock, rough stones and cut ones, gold and silver clasps and catches. Projects in process lay sprawled in a collage. On top, his tools lay scattered on the leather mat.
He reached into the case and withdrew a single bluish-gray feather. “I found this while I was working one day. From the color and length, I think it might be from a blue heron. I’m not sure, but I thought it would make a pretty hat feather.” He handed it to her.
Her eyes lit. He’d attached tiny red gemstones somehow to the thick sturdy vein running down the center of the feather. “Are those rubies?”
“They are.”
“This is really neat. Where did you get the idea?”
“It just came to me one day. A way to put two things from nature together. I’ve always worn feathers in my cowboy hats, and this seemed like a nice way for a lady to do the same by making it prettier with the stones I’d collected.”
“You should sell these.”
“I just do it for fun. My sister has one. I made Reece a white one with pink quartz down the center. It turned out real nice. She says she gets compliments from customers all the time.”
“I’m sure she does. I’d love to see that one. Not that I wear hats, but I bet this would make a beautiful lapel pin or pendant on a long necklace.”
He lifted his hat from a hook on the wall and placed it on her head. He stepped back. “You look great in a hat.”
“Really?” She self-consciously reached up for it.
“Yeah. I like it. A lot.”
“Thanks. Who knows, maybe there’s a little cowgirl in me?” She playfully shrugged.
“Oh, I think there is. I saw you sit that horse.”
“It’s so interesting to me that a manly man with rough edges—well, not rough, but you know what I mean. An outdoorsman. An expert of land and livestock. Cooking the old-fashioned way even. This collection, the artistry of the jewelry and feathers is nice. You’re a multifaceted man.”
She closed her eyes for a second.
“Ryder, I saw the look on your face when you came into the room. We can’t ignore that. I’m talking a mile a minute because I’m uncomfortable. I know you were too.”
“I was.”
“I’m sorry. You’re upset. I didn’t realize…” She stepped back. “I—it just caught my eye. I should’ve asked before I came in here. I can see it’s personal.”
“No. I told you to make yourself at home. How could you have known? I didn’t.” He walked over and put the article in a drawer. “Some things are still so present.”
“I’m sure.” She ran her hand along the top of the glass-topped desk. “How long were you two married?” She hitched a breath. “No. You don’t have to answer that.”
“That’s a fair question. We were married for six years. Doesn’t sound that long, but we dated forever. Local girl. It was hard on the whole town when I lost her.”
Lorri’s lips parted, but she remained silent.
“Our son, Ronnie Dwayne, was the spitting image of her. He was four. They’d gone up to Raleigh to visit a friend. I was going to drive them, but rain had messed up my schedule. She didn’t want to reschedule. It was one night away. They’d planned to be home early on Sunday so we could go to church together.”
He watched her swallow, her eyes glistening.
“They didn’t know what hit them. The man who broadsided them had been drinking all night, and who knows what else. He didn’t even realize what he’d done. He was staggering in the street screaming because my wife wouldn’t get out of the car and talk to him when the police arrested him.”
Lorri stood there shaking her head.
“She was already gone.” He walked a step or two. “These were her things. Most of them. The feathers, the rocks, those are mine, but everything else in here was Valerie’s with the exception of Diane’s old butterfly collections.” His throat tightened. “This room is full of things I loved. Everyone loved Valerie.”
“You must miss them so deeply.”
“I do.”
“It’s yours to hold close.”
He turned his back to her, trying to keep his emotion in check.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch light, but so soothing. “If there’s something I can do, or just listen … please let me. I can just be here and not talk at all.”
She would. He believed that. He turned to her. “We’re a pair, aren’t we? Battle scars and all.”
“Yes. We kind of are. Emotional baggage,” she said.
“Whatever name you put to it. It hurts.”
“Right. Why we both just wanted to be friends, for example, and maybe why it seems like so much more already.”
“Doesn’t make much sense from the outside looking in. Might even look downright stupid, but a person has their reasons.”
“I’m so sorry I touched a nerve being in here. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable, much less hurt you.”
“I know that.”
“Should I leave?”
He hesitated, but as much as those old feelings had crashed over him when he saw her holding Valerie and Ronnie Dwayne’s picture, the comfort in having her here was just as big.
“No. I don’t want you to leave, and I thank you for understanding.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the door. “Let’s go on the porch and eat this cobbler before it gets cold.”