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Then Came You ; Written with Love

Page 3

by Kianna Alexander


  “It’s only been a few weeks. Leah’s fine. You know her. She’s seven going on thirty-seven.” Kima shook her head, popping a potato chip into her mouth. “She asked me when she can start coming to the spa to get massages. Says second grade is stressing her out.”

  Robyn snorted. As much as she loved Leah, she wondered if the little girl had “been here before,” as the older folks often proclaimed about children who seemed mature beyond their years. “Second-grade stress? I’ve heard it all.”

  “I swear she’s trying to make my hair go gray.”

  Kima pushed away her mostly empty plate. “So, what’s new back at the ranch?”

  She didn’t want to talk about her morning, but she knew her friend would work the information out of her, anyway, and decided not to avoid it. “The new rancher came for his entrance meeting today.”

  “I remember you telling me that. Tell me all about him, girl.” She raised her water glass for another sip.

  “It’s Troy Monroe.”

  The next sound out of Kima’s mouth was coughing. Her eyes widened as if she’d just spotted a two-headed cow. She tipped the water glass in earnest, gulping down a large swallow. Finally, over her coughing fit, she placed her French-manicured hand over her chest. “Girl, did you say Troy Monroe? The Troy Monroe? The one who broke your heart in high school?”

  She nodded. “One and the same.”

  Kima shook her head, crinkling her nose. “Well, damn. I’m guessing nobody told you this before today?”

  “I found out the moment he walked into my office.”

  “Yikes.” Kima sat back in her chair, letting her hand drop to her lap. “Well, now that you know it’s him, how do you feel about it?”

  She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. But we’ve got a busy year-end calving season and I don’t have time to think about how I feel right now.”

  Kima pursed her lips.

  “Don’t give me that look.”

  “So, your first love is back in your life, and working on the ranch, no less.”

  Robyn felt the lump forming in her throat. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “Pipe down, Kima. Everybody in the café can hear you.”

  “Girl, please. This is Grandeza, where everybody knows everybody else’s business.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “What about the job search? Any developments there?”

  Robyn gave her a brief update about the director-of-vet-services job in San Diego. Even as she told her friend, though, a pang of guilt stabbed her. She was telling Kima before anyone else. But she knew Kima would be happy for her, and show an unqualified joy not tinged by regret.

  A bright smile spread over Kima’s face. “That’s the job you really wanted. Congrats, Rob!”

  She grinned. “Thanks, Kima.”

  “And I’m assuming your parents reacted well to the news?”

  The grin faded. “Well, I...”

  Kima’s lip curled into a frown. “Don’t tell me they don’t know about this.”

  She remained silent, her eyes trained on the view of the mountains outside the window.

  “Robyn, are you serious right now? What are you, fourteen? Why in the world are you hiding things from your parents like a disobedient teen?”

  She sighed. “Sometimes that’s how I feel when I go against their plans for me.” They have such high hopes for me running the ranch. Besides, I’m all they have now. For years, she’d felt tied to the ranch because she thought it was her job to make her parents happy after they’d faced a bottomless grief. She was tethered to them and their business by guilt and sadness, and she had to break away. It was the only way she could ever hope to gain the life she truly wanted.

  Kima’s eyes met hers. “You have to live your life for yourself, Robyn. And the only way you can do that is by being honest. With yourself, and with your parents.”

  “You sound like an after-school special, Kima.”

  “Becoming a mother teaches you a thing or two about life.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “When Skip ran off and left me to raise Leah on my own, I had to make some decisions. I also had to make some sacrifices.”

  “That jackass. I’d curse his name if he wasn’t half-responsible for my goddaughter.” I remember how devastated Kima was when Skip walked out on her. Their short-lived romance after meeting at a local bar had yielded only one positive outcome: a beautiful little girl with dark hair and sparkling brown eyes that mirrored her mother’s.

  “Yeah, but enough about the jackass. You’re at a crossroads, Robyn. And as much as I don’t want you to move away, I want you to be happy. So, I’m going to ask you to do two things.”

  Shoulders slumped, Robyn remarked, “I know you want me to talk to Mom and Pop. What’s the other thing?”

  “Talk to Troy.”

  She tilted her head. “I’m going to have to talk to him—we’ll be working together.”

  “You know good and well I don’t mean talking to him about work.”

  “What else is there for us to...?” She stopped midsentence as she caught a glimpse of Kima’s narrow-eyed stare.

  “I don’t want to hear it. You know exactly what I mean, and you know what you need to do.”

  “He never took our time together as seriously as I did, Kima. If I bring it up now, after all these years, I’ll only make a fool of myself.”

  “Let me ask you something. Has time been kind to Troy?”

  “Extremely.” Her mind conjured a vision of him standing in her office door. “He’s an Adonis in a cowboy hat.”

  Kima laughed. “Then, girl, get yourself together and make your move. How many more men like that do you think you’re gonna meet?”

  “None.” Because, if she was honest with herself, she knew no one else would ever measure up to the legend of Troy Monroe in her mind.

  As if reading her mind, Kima threw up her hands and announced, “It’s fate, girl. You can’t do nothing to change fate.”

  Deep down, she wondered what it would be like to be with Troy again. They were both adults now, free of the angst and uncertainty of their teenage years. What would it be like to have a relationship with him now, or even a fling, for that matter?

  She shook her head, hoping to drive away those thoughts.

  Nothing good can come of them. He’s just gotten to town, and I’m doing my best to get away from here.

  No. There can’t be anything between us.

  Her head had it all figured out.

  But her heart was another matter altogether.

  * * *

  Troy grasped the handle of the old broom as he moved it across the cement stoop at his modest house. The bungalow, located in the Juniper Heights neighborhood near the western edge of Grandeza, had once been Mama Jeannie’s. She’d passed it down to her son, Troy’s father, Johnny, when her doctor had advised her to move to assisted living five years ago. A wanderer at heart, Johnny hadn’t wanted any part of the provincial life Grandeza provided, so she’d deeded it to Troy.

  The old place held many memories. The hardwood floors throughout were gouged and dented in places, thanks to his childhood love of roughhousing and crashing his toy vehicles at every opportunity. Mama Jeannie had taught him the basics of cooking in the old kitchen, where a soft gray paint job had replaced the yellowed floral wallpaper that used to be there. The furniture in the living room was the same sofa and love seat he’d lounged on in his adolescence, though the pieces had been reupholstered since then. The old screen door still hung slightly off-kilter from the time he’d crashed into it while skateboarding in the house as a boisterous teen.

  Mama Jeannie had sent him home with an admonishment to clean up since he hadn’t been home in a while. He was still sweeping the leaves and debris off the porch when a familiar car pulled up to the curb.

  Troy set aside the broom, a smile stretching
his lips as he watched his old friend climb out of the blue sedan, a small toolbox in one hand. “Rick! How the hell are you, man?”

  Rick Thompson clad in the overalls he wore to work as a mechanic, grinned as he stepped up on the porch. “I’m all right. How about you, stranger? We haven’t seen you around here in a while.”

  The two shared a hearty hug.

  “I just got in a couple of days ago. What brings you over here, Rick?”

  “Your busted kitchen faucet.” He lifted the toolbox.

  He frowned. “The faucet’s broken?” He’d only been home a short time and hadn’t used the sink yet. “I’ve been ordering in—you know how I hate to cook.”

  “It’s probably better if you don’t. I’m handy, but I don’t have the expertise to repair fire damage.”

  He gave his old buddy a playful punch in the stomach. “Very funny, Rick. But seriously, is there really something wrong with the sink?”

  “Yeah, man. That thing is way out of whack. First brown water, then no water at all.”

  He shook his head. Damn. What else has happened around here since I was home last?

  “I still have the spare key you gave me. I’ve been looking after the place for the last four months. Mama Jeannie asked me to.”

  He tried to fight off the pang of guilt that wrenched his gut. “I know. What can I say?”

  “You can say you’ve been by to see Mama Jeannie.”

  He ribbed him, annoyed that his friend would ask such a silly question. “Of course I have. That’s the first place I went when I arrived in town. I got a call from Helene and cut my trip to North Carolina short to get back here.” He paused, thinking Rick would ask him how Mama Jeannie was doing.

  “I’ve been visiting her. Went by there Sunday to see her.”

  His jaw tightened. Even though he appreciated his friend checking in on his grandmother, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat put out. “Fixing things around my house and visiting her? Trying to take my place, Rick?”

  “Are you kidding? No one can take your place in Jeannie’s heart.” Rick’s expression turned serious. “I’m glad you went to see her. Whenever I was there, she talked about you nonstop. I could tell she was really missing you.”

  Troy wanted to sink through the concrete and disappear. He mentally kicked himself for neglecting her for so long. Sure, he’d called her two or three times every week, and sent her postcards. Standing here with Rick, though, it was clear that hadn’t been enough.

  “Can I come in? I wanna get to work on that sink before it gets too late.”

  Troy held open the screen door and followed his friend inside.

  In the kitchen, Troy hung the broom and dustpan on their respective hooks on the wall and watched his buddy work. Rick sat his toolbox on the floor, opened it and fished out a small flashlight. Then, he opened the cabinet doors underneath the sink and lied down on his back, with his head and shoulders inside the cabinet. A moment later, light flooded the cabinet interior.

  “So, how long are you going to stay this time?” Rick’s question echoed, bouncing off the wood and pipes.

  “A while. I took a job in town, and I want to be close in case Mama J needs me. She’s not feeling her best.” He sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Where are you working?”

  “The Chance spread.”

  A loud “ding” sounded from beneath the sink, and Rick slid out. “Say what now?”

  “I took a job as a lead rancher at the Chance spread.”

  Rick shook his head.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “Robyn’s still there, man. As far as I know, she hasn’t left Grandeza since she came back from vet school.”

  “I know that. I had a meeting with her this morning.”

  Rick sat up, his back straight and his eyes on Troy. “What happened?”

  Troy shrugged. “We went over paperwork. She explained the expectations for the job and took me for a tour of the ranch.”

  “That’s it?”

  His brow creased. “Yeah, man. What else was supposed to happen?”

  “You mean to tell me you went there, sat across from her and she didn’t bring up the fact that you stood her up for the prom junior year and disappeared after?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Rick looked downright bewildered. “I don’t even know what to think about that.”

  “Do like me. Don’t think about it.”

  Rick shook his head back and forth slowly. “No, man. You’d better think about it. Because I guarantee you, she has.”

  “Maybe not. Maybe she’s forgotten about it?”

  “Ha! Fat chance.”

  He stared at his friend, trying to figure him out. “Rick, what the hell are you getting at?”

  “Women don’t forget, man. Their memories are longer than Route 66.”

  He shrugged.

  “You’d better be on your guard. Maybe she hired you just so she can get revenge.” Rick grabbed a wrench from the toolbox.

  “You’re crazy, man. Robyn isn’t that type. Plus, she didn’t know I was the new hand until I showed up for the meeting. She said the woman who hired me never told her my name.”

  “That’s what she said.” Rick disappeared beneath the sink again, but his voice flowed through the room. “You better be prepared. My advice is to apologize to her ASAP. Maybe you can avert disaster.”

  Troy shook his head. “You on some other shit today, Rick.” He couldn’t believe for a second that Robyn would be that vindictive. She’d always been a kind, caring person. And while he hadn’t shown up to pick her up for prom, he doubted she’d have held that against him all these years.

  Has she? It wasn’t as if I had a choice in the matter. He’d been a minor then, and subject to the whims of his parents.

  Deciding not to let Rick’s foolishness get to him, he walked to the fridge to grab a drink. “You want something to drink, man?”

  “Yeah. A water will work.”

  He grabbed two bottles of water and handed one to Rick, who sat up to take a long swig.

  “How bad is it under there?” Troy peered into the cabinet at the pipes.

  “Can’t tell yet, but there’s probably something lodged in there. A blockage.”

  He groaned. “Has Mama Jeannie been paying you for all this?”

  “Nah. I wouldn’t take her money, anyway. But I will take yours.” Rick winked at him.

  A laughing Troy reached for his wallet.

  Chapter 4

  Robyn yawned, resisting the urge to raise her latex-gloved hand to cover it. It was Wednesday morning, and she was facing down a serious case of the midweek doldrums. She’d been in the barn since before dawn, assisting with the first calving of the fall season. The young heifer had just birthed her first calf, a male.

  Standing by the stall, Robyn observed the calf for any signs of distress. He seemed to be in fine physical shape, which pleased her. But she had other concerns as she watched his mother, tucked away in the opposite corner of the stall, seemingly uninterested in her newborn.

  Amos Tolbert, one of the lead ranchers, who’d been assisting her, stood nearby. Amos had been working on Chance land for as long as Robyn could remember. He was in his late fifties, and had ruddy, tanned skin, blue eyes and close-cropped gray hair. “Mama doesn’t seem too attached to baby.”

  Robyn frowned. “You’re right. I’ll have to keep an eye on both of them.”

  She stripped off the gloves and the paper gown she’d worn over her clothes for the delivery and tossed them into the trash bin.

  As she and Amos washed up at the large wall-mounted sink, he asked, “Do you need me to stick around? We’ve got some fences to mend on the northern end of the ranch.”

  She shook her head. “No. You can go on ahead. I’ll radio if I ne
ed anything else.” She glanced over her shoulder at the stall. “Looks like I’ll be here most of the day.”

  “Okay.” Once he’d dried his hands, he disappeared into the early morning sunlight.

  She turned her attention back to Molly and her calf. The calf clumsily made its way over to Molly and attempted to nurse and was quickly denied.

  Robyn felt her brow furrowing. She’s not taking to the calf. I’m going to have to bottle-feed him.

  She left the main floor of the barn for the storage room. Moments later, she returned with a large bottle of milk replacer. Taking a seat on a low milking stool inside the stall, she coaxed over the calf and began to feed it the meal its mother had denied.

  “My, what a hungry baby.” She held the bottle with both hands to meet the calf’s enthusiastic demand for nourishment. This was a part of her job that she loved. It would be easy enough to pass the unglamorous job of bottle-feeding on to a hand. But she enjoyed doing it. It soothed her and made the messy parts of her work worth it.

  A soft smile tilted her lips as she thought back on Lacey. She’d been so small then, not much taller than the milking stool. Robyn had been six years old, and certain she knew everything, most especially when it came to taking care of her baby sister.

  Lacey had loved all the animals, but she’d had a special affinity for the baby animals. As small as she was, she tried to participate in every bottle-feeding. That had resulted in a lot of frustration for her parents, as well as some of the hands, who’d been more interested in getting things done that letting a preschooler entertain herself at the expense of efficiency.

  Sitting there in the morning silence, with only the sounds of the calf’s suckling and the breathing of the other animals, she felt a connection to her sister. So many years had passed, and so many things had changed in her life. But she didn’t think the empty place in her heart would ever be filled again.

  A tear slid down her cheek as the calf backed off the bottle. “Full for now, buddy?” She stroked his furry little head.

  She heard the soft scratch of footsteps on the hard-packed floor and shifted her gaze toward the barn door.

 

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