A cup of coffee halfway to her lips, Sandi stared at the front-page headlines of the weekly paper Cate had just dropped on the Kit’s Lodge tabletop in front of her.
ELECTRIAL FIRE INJURES LOCAL WOMAN.
And below that, a large photo taken outside the museum—a shot of paramedics gathered around a disgruntled-looking Mae sitting on a stretcher in the back end of an ambulance. The wide-angle lens captured Bryce and Sandi looking on—his arm firmly around her waist and her head on his shoulder, her hand pressed to the broad expanse of his chest.
Oh, no.
“Told you you’d made the news, didn’t I?” Cate laughed with delight. “Regular celebrity.”
“I didn’t know you and Bryce Harding were an item,” elderly waitress Sue Brown observed, peering over her shoulder. “I remember him when he was a towheaded kid. Know his grandma, too. My, my, but he turned out to be a fine-lookin’ fellow.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling Sandi.” Cate clucked her tongue. “But she’s dragging her feet.”
Was it her imagination or had half the female restaurant patrons turned to look at her, eager to get a gander at the woman who’d made the news wrapped in the arms of one of Canyon Springs’s most eligible bachelors?
“We’re just friends.” What a liar she was.
Cate rolled her eyes. “Honey, get a clue. A man like that ain’t made for being just friends.”
“It’s okay to have a male friend,” Sue reassured as she cut a quelling look at Cate and refilled Sandi’s coffee cup. “Being friends is a good place to start.”
Cate scoffed. “Being friends is a good place to let the competition edge in.”
“Uh, Cate,” Sandi whispered. “Would you lower your voice please?”
“There’s no call to be embarrassed, Sandi. Everybody knows you’ve been on your own for a long time. Are in need of a man. Whole town will be tickled pink, just you wait and see.”
“Why are we all going to be tickled pink?” Meg Diaz maneuvered around Cate and a departing Sue to slip into the booth seat across from Sandi. She smiled uncertainly at their gossipy coworker.
Cate snatched up the newspaper and dropped it in front of Meg. “Would you look at that? Sandi’s finally found herself a man.”
Meg glanced at the paper, then at Sandi, her words guarded. “He’s a really nice guy.”
“Nice don’t say the half of it.” Cate winked. “If you know what I mean.”
Meg folded the paper and handed it back to Cate. “Is that your daughter I saw waiting in a car outside?”
Cate slapped her forehead. “In all the excitement over Sandi, I forgot. Promised to take my girl shopping in Show Low after I stopped off for a box of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls. Guess I’d better get going.”
She fixed an eye on Sandi. “And keep me posted, little lady, on any developments with you know who. We may get to keep the museum after all.”
Laughing, she dropped the paper back on the table and headed off to get her cinnamon rolls.
Sandi dropped her face into her hands. Mortified.
“I could kill that photographer.”
“Definitely one of the drawbacks to a small town.”
Straightening, Sandi gave a quick glance around the room to ensure everyone was minding their own business again, then reached for her coffee cup. Caught Meg smiling at her.
“What?”
“Well?” Her friend leaned forward, her eyes bright and voice low. “Are you going to keep me in suspense? What’s going on with you and Mr. Muscle? If that photo is any indication, looks like things have heated up a notch since our picnic.”
“You might say that.” Face warming, Sandi couldn’t contain a smile. “He wants to be more than friends.”
“And?”
“So do I.”
Meg’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
She nodded, and Meg let out a little squeal.
“I’m so excited for you. You two make such a cute couple.” She pursed her lips, thought a moment. “Okay, maybe not quite as cute of a couple as you’d make with my big brother, Rob, but cute nevertheless.”
“Ha, ha. Bryce is meeting me for breakfast—Gina’s at her grandma’s. What are you doing here?”
“The same thing Cate was. Picking up cinnamon rolls for my morning Bible study group.” Meg’s eyes brightened as she looked over Sandi’s shoulder toward the door. “Won’t be staying long, though. Looks like, much to the disappointment of every single woman in town, you’re about to have company.”
Spirits rising in anticipation, Sandi turned.
She watched as Bryce wove his way among the tables, pausing occasionally while someone inquired about his grandma. Pointed out the photo in the paper. Punched him playfully in the shoulder. Gave him a thumbs-up.
No, there was nothing quite like a small town.
When he finally arrived, he nodded a greeting to Meg and slid into the seat beside Sandi.
“Well, it was great seeing you this morning, Sandi.” Meg slipped out of the booth. “You, too, Bryce.”
“Hey,” he protested, “don’t let me chase you off.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” But Meg didn’t linger. “Ciao.”
Sandi cautiously turned to the big man next to her. What did he think of the photo of them plastered across the front page? “How’s Mae this morning?”
“Madder than a caged coyote.”
“Mad? Why?” She’d visited her last night at Pine Country Care, and she’d seemed tired but not angry.
He shook his head. “Guess.”
Because of the photo in the paper. The two of them fastened to each other tighter than Velcro. It probably came as a shock to see her grandson publicly seeking solace in the arms of a woman, even one she knew.
“Because she fell down the stairs trying to get away from the fire?” she suggested. “Rebroke her ankle?”
Bryce grunted. “No. Because she made the front-page news in her oldest, most hated housedress. The one with the big, splotchy blue flowers.”
Sandi put her hand to her mouth to squelch a laugh, relief washing through her. “Poor Mae.”
“Believe me, she is one unhappy woman this morning. Rolled me right out of bed with her call, demanding I sue the paper.”
“Maybe we both should.”
“You mean because of that?” Frowning, he tapped their intertwined image on the paper in front of him. “Wouldn’t do any good. The whole town’s already read that thing from front to back like it’s USA TODAY or something.”
Expression troubled, he picked up the breakfast menu. Flipped through it without reading. Uneasily, she ran a playful finger along his biceps, astonished, as always, at the rock solidness of his arms.
“I saw you getting teased when you walked in here.”
He tossed the menu back on the table.
“We’re today’s hot news, babe. Splashed across the front page like Hollywood tabloid celebrities.” He cut her a probing look. “How do you feel about that?”
Sensing irritation in his words, she spoke with caution. “Kind of embarrassed, I suppose. You know, everyone knowing our business. I feel like a bug being examined under a microscope.”
He picked up the menu again. Toyed with it a moment. “Are you thinking it might be a good idea to put a little distance between us? Until things die down, I mean?”
A queasy sense of foreboding rolled in her stomach.
“Like how much distance?” she managed to get out, teasingly eyeing the few inches that separated them in the booth. He’d been all for kissy-face-close just a few days ago. Ready to explore where God might take them. But now that his interest in her had been made public…?
He tossed the menu down again and clasped his hands on the table. “I don’t know. Maybe enough to quell the wagging tongues. I know you’re concerned about your reputation—about mine—this being such a small town and all.”
An invisible fist slugged her in the stomach.
She might throw up.
He was having second thoughts. Backing out. Dumping her right here at Kit’s Lodge in front of God and everybody.
She smiled. Stiffly. And removed her hand from his arm. “Whatever.”
He raised a questioning brow. “You’re good with that?”
She shrugged. Swallowed. Aware that at least half the room covertly watched them. The other half openly.
“Well, looky here.” Bella Sanchez, a woman Sandi recognized as a customer from the Warehouse, paused at their table to beam at them. “If it isn’t the two lovebirds.”
Bryce leaned back in the booth, his smile looking forced.
“So glad to see you’re dating again, Sandi. I’ve worried so much about you. Prayed for you. You know, since Keith’s passing.” She winked at Bryce. “You take good care of this lady, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bella nodded, satisfied, and moved on.
Bryce placed his forearms on the table and clasped his hands, not looking at her. Cleared his throat. “I need to get going. Sorry I can’t stay for breakfast. Trey asked me to help with some roping stock this morning while he’s gone.”
She nodded.
He frowned, studying her closely. “Everything okay?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“All right then.” He slid out of the booth, leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Take care, Sandi. See you around.”
She gave him her brightest smile, conscious of prying eyes.
See you around. Not I’ll see you later. Not even I’ll give you a call. See you around.
She watched him weave his way back to the entrance. T-shirt tight across his broad-shouldered back. A muscled arm reaching out for a passing handshake. A strong hand securing his straw hat on his head.
Then he disappeared out the door.
And out of her life.
He’d been gut-punched in a fistfight before, but it didn’t hold a candle to what he’d gone through yesterday. Was still going through. He had no doubt, from the look on Sandi’s face when he sat down with her at Kit’s, that she was dismayed by that photo in the paper. Of being seen with him, cuddled in his arms for the whole town to gawk at.
He shut and fastened the gate on a dozen calves he’d unloaded into the corral, then strode toward his SUV. Didn’t fancy getting caught in the approaching afternoon monsoon.
Sandi’s reaction hadn’t come as any surprise. And to be honest, why shouldn’t she be concerned about it? About a splotch on a previously spotless reputation she’d fought long and hard to maintain. About the dirty assumptions people might make about the two of them together.
Yes, he was New Bryce now. He’d changed significantly in the past few years, but few here knew it. Wasn’t like he wore a sign around his neck. He hadn’t been back long enough for word to get around. Except for escorting his grandma to church, he hadn’t exactly been vocal about it. Churchgoing didn’t prove any thing to most hereabouts anyway. When he was a teen everybody knew Old Man Addison had a lady love on the side, but he never missed a Sunday service. So nobody would pay his own Sunday appearances much mind, either.
Sure, maybe some noticed he no longer camped down at the Timbertop Bar as he used to when on leave and Grandma had gone to bed. Didn’t hang out at a neighboring town honky-tonk on Saturday nights, making sure the local gals had a good time.
He kicked at a rock. Sent it sailing.
Grandma. If he’d have been home, this never would have happened to her. She’d wakened from a nap to find the apartment filling with smoke from an outlet in the bathroom. The new detector he’d installed last winter, recently tested, had apparently malfunctioned. She’d panicked, headed for the inside staircase. Slipped. Tumbled.
He’d never forget finding her near the bottom of the stairs.
Her arm flung out as if to break her fall, her body twisted in an unnatural position. All because he’d let himself get delayed with wooing Sandi. Not taking care of business.
Grandma didn’t break her neck, though. Relatively minor injuries. That’s what counted. He jerked the SUV’s door open.
Some grandson he’d turned out to be.
Climbing into his vehicle, he tossed his hat and gloves onto the seat beside him. Then stared out the window to watch the pastured horses tearing at the fodder along the fence line, seemingly oblivious of the rumbling thunder. They’d seek shelter under the lean-to if so inclined. Then his gaze shifted to the hay-storage building, where only a few days ago it looked as if God was opening doors.
Doors to a future with Sandi.
He should have known better. LeAnne had done her dirty work well.
When he’d offered Sandi a way out, asked if she wanted to put some distance between them for a while, she didn’t voice any objections. Didn’t ask him why. Just kind of shrugged. Said “whatever.” Basically jumped on it like a cat on a cricket while feigning indifference.
Lightning flashed as he rammed the key into the ignition. Started the vehicle. Put it in gear. He might be dense at times, but he could see the handwriting on the wall. Looked as if New Bryce needed lessons on hearing the voice of God when it came to his love life.
“When were you going to get around to telling me, Bryce?” Sandi planted herself in front of him, hands on her hips, as he pounded the For Sale by Owner sign in the rocked area between the sidewalk and the street.
How dare he not even warn her?
“Figured I’d tell you next time I saw you.”
“And when would that be?” He’d avoided her since that day at Kit’s when he suggested they put some distance between them until hoopla from the photo died down. It hadn’t. Almost every day for the remainder of the week she’d been teased and taunted about “that Harding fellow,” sometimes even by people she hardly knew.
She could only hope he’d been similarly tortured. Would serve him right for not even calling her.
“I thought you planned to remodel in the spring. So we had plenty of time to find another location. But you’re selling it now? Not remodeling?”
“The lease is up the last day of July. You haven’t signed the new one.” Bryce bumped his hat up on his forehead and waved toward the museum. “I don’t want Grandma in that old place. Faulty wiring. Ancient plumbing. Had an inspector in, so I got an eye-opener. If I can get enough for it, get that firefighter job soon, I’ll find us a nice modern ranch house. No way am I going to risk putting her back in this place. Don’t want anyone else in there, either. So the museum’s closed. I’ll refund your money for the remaining weeks of the lease.”
“Closed? You can’t do that.”
“Watch me. I already changed the locks.”
She bent to tug at the sign, but it didn’t budge. “Pull that thing out. You at least owe me a little time. Time to see if the historical society can pull together some backers. Purchase it outright.”
“Sandi, the society can barely pay the rent. You told me that yourself. Where would they dig up enough money to buy it? I can’t carry a loan. I need payment in full.”
“I’ll get it. Maybe that Utah donor will loan us the money, with interest, of course. And maybe we can qualify for a grant. You know, for an historic home. So we can fix it up.”
“How long will it take you to find all that out?”
“I don’t know about the grant. But I’ll call the law firm today. Maybe I can get an answer within a week. Maybe two.”
He folded his arms, a frown forming. “I don’t know…”
“Come on, Bryce. It’s the least you can do. You owe me.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because if it wasn’t for you, your grandma would have moved to a ground-floor apartment after her first fall. Would have kept renting this place to us. We’d have had enough money set aside so I could push through a veterans exhibit. An exhibit that would honor my husband, among others.”
He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “You’re not going to like this, but it seems to me you’ve put this place before everything else in your life. Before God.”
She gasped. How dare he?
“When are you going to get it through that thick head of yours, Sandi, that getting some exhibit named after Keith isn’t going to bring him back.”
That’s what he thought she was doing? Trying to resurrect Keith?
She stepped up to him, lifted her chin. “I’m appalled to hear that come out of your mouth, Sergeant Harding. You may not have wanted your best friend to marry me, but I never expected you to have any objections to my wanting to honor him.”
How could she ever have let herself fall for a man like Bryce? Obstinate. Hard-hearted. Just like LeAnne warned.
Glaring at her, he reached down and jerked the sign out of the ground with ease. Tossed it at her feet.
“Okay. There you go. I’m giving you two weeks. That’s it.”