by Jennie Marts
Gram cackled at the way they’d executed their strategy to get Emmet to host his chili cook-off at the ranch. “Very smart. And I hope the Harmony Creek contestants whip those Woodland Hills’s high-falutin’ fannies.”
“Me, too.” Jocelyn took their plates to the kitchen and came back with a warm mug of tea. She set it on the end table next to her grandmother’s chair. “Are you really okay? Can I get anything else for you?”
“I’m fine, honey. Don’t worry about me.” Her face took on a wistful expression, and she reached out to touch Jocelyn’s cheek. “You look so much like your mother did at your age. And she was just like you, so full of dreams and ambition.”
“I’m not like her, though. I never turned my back on you or this place.” A chunk of guilt settled in her stomach, like one of her skipped stones had dropped to the bottom of the lake. “I’m sorry I haven’t been back to see you more often.” How could she explain that the reasons she’d avoided the ranch had mostly to do with Mack? Judging from the way Gram was looking at her—her gaze filled with love and understanding—she probably already knew. “I’ve let some not-so-great memories keep me away, but the past few days have reminded me of a lot of good memories, too.”
“I’m glad. I want you to remember why you love it here. It seems like your mother has wiped this place from her mind completely. That was always something you and Mack had in common—neither of your mothers wanted to stay here. At least when your mom had you, she started out with a husband to help her. Mack’s dad left when Mack was still a baby.” Jocelyn felt a pang of sympathy. That was another thing she and Mack had in common: fathers who’d walked away. “His mother was left alone, and she was still very young—but with big fancy adult dreams.”
Jocelyn’s spine straightened. “I don’t care how big and fancy her dreams were. It was wrong of her to abandon her son.”
“Was it? It seems growing up with Loretta and Hank was probably the best thing that could have happened to him. Most likely saved him in a lot of ways. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know that his mom leaving tore that kid up. He was only, what, nine or ten years old?”
“Ten.” They’d both been ten that first summer. She remembered how shy he’d been, the pain and haunted look that had clouded his eyes for most of the first month she’d known him. “I remember I used to challenge him to everything—who could run faster, jump higher, spit watermelon seeds farther. It was stupid, but at that age, it was the only thing I knew to do to try to get him out of his shell.” Then when he’d opened up, when he’d laughed and started to tease and joke around with her, it had been like she’d won first prize at the county fair.
Jocelyn stared at her hands. “I tried to convince Mom to let me live with you and finish school here.”
“Oh honey, I know.” Molly covered her hand with hers. “But I truly believe everything happens for a reason. So there had to be a reason your mother took you away that last year of school and kept you from me and from Harmony Ranch. Or at least she thought she had her reasons. You know, she’d fallen for a local boy and gotten married too young, and she always wanted more for you—wanted you to have the chances at a career and a life in the city that she never had.”
“It’s hard not to wonder what would have happened if I had stayed for my senior year instead of moving to New York.”
“I know.”
“But I’d planned to come back as soon as I graduated—to move here—to be with you and…” her voice trailed off. She couldn’t even say his name. Not in that respect. “I was already packed and ready to leave when Mom told me he’d gotten married. She said they’d done it at the courthouse, and I was too late.”
Her grandmother squeezed her hand. “We can’t change the past. All we can do is try to learn from it.”
The past had been creeping up on her, surrounding her with memories and emotions that she’d thought she’d buried. She couldn’t change the fact that Mack had moved on without her, that he’d married someone else—that he’d seemingly forgotten all about her and acted like they had never happened. Or that he had broken her heart.
What she could change was the subject.
She stuffed the hurts back into their drawers and pushed them closed. Lifting her chin, she forced a smile onto her face. “Speaking of the past, did you hear I worked in Whitaker House today? I did presentations in the kitchen, then handed out the cobbler. It was fun.”
Her grandmother nodded. “I heard from several people what a great help you were today. They said you really pitched in.”
“I know how much this place means to you. And I’m determined to do whatever it takes to keep you from losing it. I even signed up to do the Boxed Lunch Social auction. Although I’m not sure what I was thinking when I volunteered. I have zero ideas for a fun picnic idea, and pretty much the only things I know how to make are sandwiches.”
“Nothing wrong with a sandwich.”
“But I need something more—something to make people want to bid on it. But then not be disappointed if they win.”
“All they have to win is something to eat for lunch. And you only need one person to bid.”
Her grandmother made an excellent point.
Jocelyn’s cell phone vibrated. She was surprised to see a text from Mack when she pulled it from her pocket.
You have a minute? his message read.
Sure, what’s up? she typed back.
I want to show you something. Get your opinion.
I’m always open to sharing my immense font of wisdom. Laughing emoji.
Good, he responded. Bring it with you. Meet me by the pond in ten.
She typed in a thumbs up, pushed the phone back into her pocket, and looked up.
Her grandmother arched a knowing eyebrow. “Good text?”
Jocelyn hadn’t even realized she was grinning. She tried for a casual shrug. “No biggie. Just Mack. He wants to get my input on something. I’m meeting him out by the pond.”
Her nonchalance wasn’t fooling her grandmother. “Sure. No biggie. But you might want to put on a different shirt. That one has lasagna on it.”
Chapter Nine
Ten minutes later, wearing a clean shirt, jeans, sandals, and a quick swipe of lip gloss, Jocelyn crossed the driveway and walked down the path leading to the pond. It was that special time of night just after dusk but not totally dark—a time when it feels like anything could happen. A full moon was already out, turning the steps of the path silver, and she paused to watch a baby bunny hop across the grass to hide under the lilac bushes.
What could Mack need her help with? Their relationship was so tender now, like a bruise she knew was there, but that only hurt when she pressed it.
She came around the corner, then froze in her steps and gasped at the gorgeous sight in front of her.
Mack’s truck was backed up to the pond, and he sat on the edge of the dropped tailgate swinging his legs. The faint sound of country music filled the air, the tempo almost in time with the flickering flames of the mason jar luminaries circling the pond. Their lights reflected off the water, creating the illusion that the candles were glowing under it.
It felt like she’d stepped into a painting—it was breathtaking and magical at the same time.
“What do you think?” Mack asked as she approached the truck.
“It’s beautiful. Did you do this?”
“Yeah. I got the idea this afternoon but wanted your opinion.” He pushed off the tailgate and picked up one of the jars. “I forged these little hooks with candleholders at the end of them. One end hangs off the side of a jar while the candleholder part sits inside it. I made a bunch of them for a wedding last summer—some of them hold tapered candles and some of them hold those little tea light things. I thought we could set them out for the dance tomorrow night and also sell them.”
“What a great idea. I’ll give you twenty do
llars for one right now.”
“Sold.”
“Your presentation is brilliant. I think we should set it up exactly like this again, and when people see this tomorrow night, they won’t be able to buy them fast enough. And the music is the perfect touch.” She peered into the bed of the truck. “Although I think I hear the Eighties calling. They want their boom box back.”
“Hey, don’t knock my boom box. I’ve had that thing since I was a teenager, and it still sounds great.”
She squinted at it, transported back to a time when she’d sat on Mack’s bed as he played a new CD. “I actually remember it. You got it for your sixteenth birthday. And now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure you still have my Garth Brooks CD.”
He laughed. “If I do, I’m sure it sounds awesome on this thing.”
“Oh yeah, much better than one of those newfangled Bluetooth speakers.”
“I have actually taken a giant technological leap into your world. So before you make too much fun of me, check out what I bought last night.” He pulled a new iPhone from his pocket and held it up.
“Wow. I’m impressed. But what happened to the flip phone? Did your grandma decide she wanted it back?”
“No, actually, it didn’t survive our fall into the pond yesterday.”
She cringed. “Oh, no. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault we fell in, and I’ve been thinking it was probably about time I got one anyway. And since you’re the expert on all things techy, I was hoping you could teach me how to use a couple of things.”
“Sure.” Wow. After all the time he’d spent explaining stuff to her about the ranch the past few days, it felt good for him to want to learn something from her and for her to get a chance to be able to share a little of her expertise. She hitched herself onto the tailgate and held out her hand.
He placed the phone in it, then leaned against the truck next to her. “I’ve got the basics, like how to make a call and how to answer the dang thing. And I’m figuring out it’s a heck of a lot easier to text on.”
“Ah. Now I know how you were typing all those fun emojis last night.”
He grinned. “It’s like a whole new world has opened up to me, full of small images of cacti and multiple facial expressions.”
She laughed as she nudged his shoulder. “I told you technology was cool.”
“I’m not going to go so far as to admit you may have been right, but I think the email and the maps feature will come in pretty handy.”
“Oh yeah, I use the maps all the time.”
“I figured since the ranch has a Facebook page and using it could actually drive revenue and visitors, I should probably figure out how to post something to it.”
“Yeah, sure.” She crooked her finger and imitated her best wicked witch voice. “Come into my social media lair. Let me show you around.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Now you’re just scaring me.”
She laughed as she patted the tailgate next to her. “Okay, fine. No wicked witch voice.”
“Thank you.” He settled in next to her. “I already downloaded the app and created an account.”
“Nice work. Did you already stalk me?”
He pulled his head back. “Stalk you? Like follow you around? No, I wouldn’t do that.”
A corner of her lip tugged up in a grin. This guy. He was so darn cute. “I meant Facebook-stalk me. Like, you know, did you look me up and poke around in my photos to see what I’ve been doing the last several years.”
“Um, maybe, a little,” he stammered. “I guess.”
Her heart gave a little leap. “Good. I’d be disappointed if I wasn’t one of your first forays into Facebook stalking.”
“You’re weird.”
“I know.” She laughed as she opened his Facebook app. “Did you at least friend me?”
“No. I wasn’t sure if…” his voice trailed off.
She typed her name in the search bar and friended herself. “Done. I’m your first friend.”
“That’s apropos since you actually were my first friend.”
His comment hit her straight in the heart. He’d been one of her first real friends as well. Which was why his betrayal had hurt even more.
His body language changed—his shoulders seemed to stiffen as he scratched at a piece of mud on the tailgate. “I’ve been mad at you for a lot of years,” he said. “For not coming back, for not even reaching out years later…but hanging out with you the last few days has made me realize how much I miss that friendship. You’re one of only a handful of people that I can be my true self with, and I’ve missed that. I’d like for us to try to be friends again.”
She’d been focused on building the settings in his app, but she’d heard what he said. She’d been mad too. And hurt. But bringing up blame and all their history felt like too much of a serious and complicated conversation. And she didn’t want to do serious or complicated right now.
This night was too beautiful and they were having too much fun, laughing and teasing each other, to dredge up the old hurts. She wanted to enjoy the moment, enjoy the time they were sharing now. She liked having him back in her life and didn’t want to ruin what they had now by fighting about what they’d lost then. It might have been cowardly, but they’d have time to hash things out later, when the moon wasn’t shining in the twinkling reflections on the pond and the air wasn’t full of night sounds and possibilities.
“I’d like that too,” she said, determined to keep things light. She pulled out her phone and accepted his friend request. “Done. We’re friends again.”
“If it’s on Facebook, it must be true.”
“See, now you’re getting the hang of it.” She pulled up a picture she’d taken earlier of the blacksmith shop and showed him how to post it to the ranch’s page. She typed in a caption about a “must have” secret item the blacksmith was creating that would be available to purchase tomorrow night, which visitors to the festival would go crazy for. “There. See how we’ve created excitement and consumer interest by letting them in on a secret item that everyone is going to want to buy?”
“I don’t know that a candle in a jar is worth all that hype.”
“It might not be if we’d just posted a picture of it, but now visitors will be eager to see what the secret item is. And when they see them lit up and glowing around the pond like this, they will snap them up. Trust me. This is my job.”
“That didn’t seem too hard. But just so you know, I only plan to post stuff about the ranch. I’m not planning to ever share anything about my personal life. It’s nobody’s business what I ate for breakfast or where I’m spending my time or who I’m spending it with.”
“Because you don’t want people to know how much time you actually spend with your dog?” she teased.
He chuckled. “The dog probably cares about that more than I do. But I’m just saying, you will never, ever see me post anything personal. Even if I were on fire, and it was the only way to call the fire department. It’s still not gonna happen. I’d rather burn.”
“Okay. Okay. I think you’ve made your point.” She nodded at his phone. “Anything else I can show you on your newfangled contraption?”
He tapped the screen to get the apps to light back up. “Yeah, actually. I haven’t quite figured out the camera. Can you show me how to take a picture of something and then fix it up?”
“Sure.” She opened the camera app and showed him how to snap a picture, then held his phone up. “And this is how you take a selfie. Just in case you want to snap a pic of you and Savage.” She laughed as she pulled a silly face and snapped a few selfies, then wrapped her arm around Mack’s shoulder and pulled him into the screen’s view. She leaned her head into his and snapped another pic, then nudged him in the side until she finally got him to smile for one.
She was glad
to be laughing and teasing with him again as she showed him more features of the camera, explaining the aspects of each as she thumbed through the different options. “This is how you record a video.” She pressed the button and did a quick video of herself waving into the screen. “Hi, Mack.” Passing him the phone, she said, “Now you try.”
He took the phone and was playing around with the options when a new song came on the radio. Both of them stilled.
Jocelyn swallowed at the sudden emotion in her throat. The notes of “their song” drifted into the air and settled around their shoulders like a warm blanket on a cool evening. “It’s crazy to hear Chase Dalton on the radio. Remember when we heard him singing this song at the county fair? He was only a few years older than us and just starting out, and now he’s a huge country music star.”
Mack studied her face, as if trying to see if she remembered the significance of the song.
How could she forget? It was their first dance, on the night of their first kiss. The night everything changed for them.
“Yeah, I remember,” he said. “I remember everything.”
Her voice lowered to a whisper. “So do I.”
He set his phone down, carefully resting it against the radio so it wouldn’t fall, then held out his hand. “Wanna dance?”
Her heart tumbled in her chest. Without analyzing the moment or thinking it to death, she simply put her hand in his and let him lead her to the edge of the pond and pull her into his arms. He was taller now, but she still fit perfectly against him.
Stepping into his arms felt like coming home again.
She rested her head on his shoulder as they slowly swayed to the music. Remembering that he might belong to someone else now, she lifted her head and peered up at him. “Won’t Sophie mind that you’re dancing with me?”
“Why would she?”
“She brought you that romantic picnic. I assumed you two are like a couple.”
His lips curved into a grin. “So you were jealous. Well, fancy plates and fried chicken for lunch doesn’t strike me as romantic. I’m a simple guy. I’m just as happy with plain sandwiches, some chips, and a cold glass of iced tea.” He pulled her closer. “I’m not a couple with anyone.”
