*Stevie’s dad, Pete, was immersed in his current project, a retrofit and renovation of the historic high school into offices for city hall. He’d lost two full-time employees over the course of the contract and, because of that, he and his one employee, Zachary, worked longer hours than they should. Because of that, Stevie and Tess had started taking turns bringing dinner and leaving it in his fridge so that Pete had something easy to heat up when he got home at whatever unearthly hour he finished his day’s work. And, on one day a week, they insisted on a sit down with him, again taking turns. That way they knew that, for at least two nights, he came home at a decent hour.
Stevie had just pulled an enchilada casserole out of the oven when she heard the familiar chug of her dad’s vintage diesel truck. On time for once. Good. She met him on the porch, giving him a quick hug. “Go wash up while I put dinner on the table.”
“So how is the dress thing going?” he asked a few minutes later when he strolled back into the kitchen, wearing a clean shirt and with his silvery hair tamed to a degree.
“Really good. We’ve got almost half the dresses re-beaded and repaired. If they don’t get claimed when we set up the closet, then we’ll try to sell them on eBay to bring in funds for some other cause.”
“You sound like your mother,” Pete said, settling at the table. “She did love herself a good cause.”
“I remember,” Stevie said. She began dishing. “I’m surprised you asked about dresses rather than the wedding. It’s a touch more exciting, don’t you think?”
“I already know about the wedding,” Pete said as he dug into his salad.
“What do you mean you already know about the wedding?”
“Brant stopped by the job today.”
Stevie’s eyebrows shot up. “Why?”
“He asked if I could help him build a professional kitchen in the machine shop and then brought me up to date.”
“No kidding.”
“Yes. It seemed someone put him onto the idea, and he liked it.”
“It’s a good idea.”
“I agree.” Pete moved his half-finished salad aside and added hot sauce to the top of the enchilada before taking a bite. “And I also heard you were getting married.”
Stevie choked on her drink, her gaze jerking up to her dad’s. She was relieved to see amusement in his blue eyes. “I…I…”
“I know,” Pete laughed. “I set the person straight who asked me about you and Brant planning a wedding, but somehow I don’t think the truth is going to travel as fast as the rumor.”
“No.” Stevie let out a sigh. “It must be because we’re visiting bakeries and florists, I guess.” She put her hand on her forehead as she recalled Velma Castillo’s puzzled expression as she’d regarded the two of them. “Someone thought they’d put two and two together.”
“Kind of funny, really.”
“I can’t wait to tell Brant,” she said. She cocked her head, her fork poised in the air. “Unless you did?”
“Nope. He stopped by before lunch, and I went to the store after.”
“Well, isn’t he in for a pleasant surprise?” Stevie murmured more to herself than to her father.
“He probably won’t hold you to it.”
“One can hope,” she mused. It was funny. Really it was. She set down her fork.
“Are you okay?” her dad asked.
“I’m hoping people don’t start congratulating me. Or Brant.”
“Probably should tell him.”
“Probably,” she agreed, picking up her fork again. The sooner the better. “Hey,” she said weakly. “Did you hear about the teaching position opening at the high school?”
“I did.”
“How do you know all the gossip when you’re cooped up in that building all day?” Including the gossip she didn’t know about, like her getting married to Brant.
“People stop to check progress and talk, and I always learn something new when I visit the grocery store.” He chewed a bite of lettuce. “I take it you’re going to apply.”
“I’ve only been waiting for something like this to open up since returning to Holly,” she replied. “Who would have thought that it would be so hard to get a job at the local high school?”
“People like working there. No one quits.”
“Which is why I want to work there,” she agreed. “Things might be falling into place, Dad.”
“Might be,” he agreed.
She propped her elbows on the table and set her chin on her clasped hands. “Just so you know, if this doesn’t work out, and I don’t get Mrs. Lovell’s job next year, then I’ll nail down a permanent job somewhere.”
“I’m not worried about that, Stevie. I’m glad you stayed after coming home to help out.”
“It all kind of worked, didn’t it?”
“Yep.” Pete took a long drink of water, then set down the glass. “It did.”
Then why, Stevie wondered as she picked up her own glass, did it no longer feel like enough?
*
“It’s not what you think, Milt.”
Stevie slowed her steps as she approached the machine shed. Both large bay doors were open, so it was easy to hear Brant and his seasonal helper, Milt Brown, talking, and the clear morning air seemed to amplify the sound.
“I don’t know how you did it,” Milt continued as if Brant hadn’t spoken. “From what my nephew says, she never goes on more than two dates with the same guy and look at you, you sly dog.”
Stevie froze. Dear heavens.
Brant intake of breath was clearly audible. “Milt,” he said patiently as Stevie looked around for a hiding place. Apparently neither man had heard her truck pull in and park next to Milt’s or they would have been more careful about their conversation.
Retreat. That was the thing to do. Retreat and then make a lot of noise as she approached the machine shed.
Hoping there was no one else on the property watching, she ducked between two rows of trees and made her way through the deep snow to where she could pop back out again and be in the general vicinity of her truck. Thankfully, Brant and Milt were still hashing things out in the machine shed. She leaned down to brush the snow off her jeans, straightening as Milt stepped out through the bay door. He caught sight of her and waved. She waved back and headed toward him.
“Morning,” she called. Heard you talking about me.
“Morning,” Milt called back.
Brant raised a hand. He had an odd look on his face, which she took to mean that they would be discussing their impending nuptials soon.
“So,” Milt said, turning back to Brant. “I’ll bring in the big blade and clear everything between the barn and the shed two days before the wedding and then we pray for no more snow. What about parking?”
“I thought we could clear out that level piece of land near the pond.” He pointed. “If the gravel pile isn’t too frozen, we might spread a little.”
“Oh, yeah,” Milt said. “Good idea.” He turned to Stevie and if she weren’t mistaken, he looked vaguely crestfallen, as if he’d just gotten the truth about the Easter Bunny. “I hear you’re encouraging Brant to put in a pumpkin patch.”
“He’s the guy that came up with the idea.”
“I think you helped open his mind.” There was challenge in his gaze as it briefly met Brant’s, as if daring him to refute his statement.
“Maybe so,” Brant agreed. “I’ve been in a rut for a while.”
“About ten years,” Milt agreed. He folded his arms atop his roundish belly. “Well, I guess that’s all I need to know right now. If you need any more help, let me know.”
“Will do, Milt. Thanks.” There was genuine note of affection in Brant’s voice, and it occurred to Stevie that the man was probably a father figure to Brant. He’d been with the tree farm for as long as she could remember.
Milt bounced a thoughtful look between the two of them, then gave an awkward nod and headed toward his truck.
Brant waited until his friend was out of earshot before saying, “Did you hear that we are getting married?”
She nodded, holding his gaze. “My dad told me.”
Brant dropped his head back to look up at the sky. “Great. What did he think?”
“He thought it was funny.” Stevie pushed her hands even deeper in her pockets, thinking that this was not the time to think that Brant Gilroy might be the best-looking guy on the planet. But lately, there seemed to be no controlling her wayward observations.
She pulled in a breath. “I think we can trace the error directly to Velma at Cakery Bakery. Remember how she’d looked at us funny?”
“Yes,” Brant agreed. “I recall.”
“Well, let’s let people think what they like. They’ll figure things out when Kara gets married.”
“I guess.”
“Or maybe we called it off.” She gave him a look as they headed to the house. “I guess you’d better consider yourself officially dumped.”
“Will do.”
“This is the second time for me. I’d better be careful, or I’ll get a reputation.”
He moved closer as they walked in step, his hands still in his pockets. “What happened with your first engagement?”
I got scared.
Stevie swallowed dryly, but her voice sounded normal when she said, “After we announced to everyone, the permanence really hit me hard. This was marriage. Nothing to mess around with.” She took a few silent steps. “I think Rob was relieved when I gave the ring back. We were young and neither of us ready for that kind of commitment.”
“Is that why you don’t date anyone more than twice?”
She gave him a guilty look. “Did you know I overheard your conversation with Milt?”
“Milt is hard of hearing. I’m not. I heard you coming and then I heard you leaving.”
“I didn’t want to embarrass him.”
“He would have been, too. That was nice of you.”
She studied the snow she kicked ahead of her boots, well aware that she hadn’t answered the question. But why not answer? “I like my life simple. Before she died, I promised my mom I’d do all the stuff I felt like doing before I settled, and I’m still in the process.”
There was more to the situation than that. There was the fear factor and her knee-jerk reaction to loss. Things she didn’t like thinking about too closely.
They reached the porch and Brant stopped at the bottom step. “You were twelve when your mom passed away?”
“Just turned thirteen.” She smiled a little. “Old enough to see the wisdom in what she said. I do what I want, and I avoid complications.” She felt a twinge of guilt at not telling him the whole truth, but she barely acknowledged it to herself, so why share? Sharing, in her mind, would only give the fear a stronger toehold.
“You might be lonely when you’re old.”
“I may not do this forever. Besides, there are no guarantees, Brant. You, of all people, should know that.”
“Yeah. Well.” He tapped his toe against the step while a magpie scolded them from the bare branches of a nearby aspen tree. “I tried to forge a guarantee by the way I tackled life, but I’m beginning to lean closer to your way of thinking. You can hedge your bets, but there’s more to life than security.”
“Ready to quit that job?”
“I like my job, but…I’m crunching numbers to what’s possible and when.”
“You might quit someday?”
He kicked the step again. “I’m not diving into anything, but I’m considering things that weren’t on my radar before.”
Even though she told herself it was a mistake, Stevie stepped closer, her hands still in her pockets. “It’s good to keep an open mind. Review possibilities.”
Brant also moved a step closer so that they were only inches apart. “How do we know what those are?”
When Stevie didn’t answer—she had no answer—Brant took her face in hands, his fingers warm against her skin. “I think we’re good for one another, Stevie.”
She dropped her chin, momentarily taking her lips out of kissing range, and let out a soft sigh.
“What?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
Her chin came up. “Like I told my sister, you have complication written all over you.”
“You discussed me with your sister?”
“She saw us kiss in the park. There was no possibility of sidestepping that conversation.”
His lips brushed against hers. “I can understand that. And I understand you don’t want to get serious.”
She brought her hands up to grip his forearms. “Do not complicate things,” she said sternly.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered as his lips touched hers. The sound of an engine made them jump guiltily, and Stevie nearly went down.
“Easy there,” Brant said, keeping a hand under her elbow until she regained her balance. She put a couple of feet of snowy ground between them as the engine noise grew louder and then Milt’s truck came into view.
Brant headed down the walk to meet him. After swinging in a wide arc, the truck stopped where Brant was waiting, and Milt rolled down his window to hand out a package.
“Mailman left it next to the mailbox. I didn’t want it to blow away.”
“Thanks,” Brant said. “I’ll see you…later.”
Milt saluted and drove away, and when Brant started back toward her, carrying the package, Stevie merely shook her head. The moment was over, and she had some things to discuss with herself in a place where she wasn’t distracted by a sexy, dark-haired man who kissed really well.
“I think I should take a box of jars and ribbons and head to town. My leadership kids have agreed to help me make the table decorations, so you’re off the hook.”
“I guess I’ll just have to stay here and do manly stuff like ordering table linens. And yes, I found a place, so we don’t have to go with butcher paper.”
“White?”
“Yep. And we’re agreed on the burlap runners?”
“We are.”
The look on his face told he that his mind was not on table runners. And neither was hers.
Stevie took another casual backward step. “I think I’d better go.”
“Yeah,” Brant said softly. “I’ll help you carry the stuff to your truck.”