Until I Met You

by Tari Faris

The dirty pink eraser rubbings still sat where the wrong number had been. He brushed at the paper and wrote the new number in its place.

  He walked over to a flag and moved it by six inches. He checked his numbers again. This was ridiculous. Someone had to know how to move that brass beast.

  Austin glanced at the library again. Maybe Libby would have an idea. He slid the clipboard under his arm and strode to the library. He knocked twice, then pushed the door open. “Hello?”

  The mess from the rain had been cleaned up, and the boxes of books were covered with plastic. He’d gotten the roofers to move their date up a week, but that still put them a week out from a new roof.

  “Can I help you?”

  Austin spun toward the feminine voice and paused. The gray coveralls and ball cap didn’t seem to match the voice. But the feminine features were definitely there in her eyes.

  “I was looking for Libby.”

  She tucked whatever she was reading behind a box. “She went to see Luke and Hannah at the hospital today. She’ll be back tonight. Are you Austin?”

  There was something familiar about her. “You’re the night reader.”

  “The what?” She stood up a little straighter.

  “The one we saw sneaking in to read books.”

  “Yes. But I go by Danielle.” Her face reddened as she shoved her hands in her pockets. “Libby was looking for a key to the desk. She thought you might have it.”

  Right. The key. He’d put it in his shirt pocket and then . . . who knows what. Maybe it was still there. But he’d done laundry, so it could be anywhere. “Tell her I’ll look for it.”

  “Okay.” Danielle picked up her bag and took a few steps toward the door. “Do you want to lock it or—”

  “I’m leaving.” Austin left and pulled out his phone to check the time. He was supposed to meet Nate at the diner for lunch in fifteen minutes. Maybe he’d head over now. It wasn’t like he was getting a lot done here. It was just past noon, so there should be a fair number of people who might just know how to move the hippo.

  He jogged across Second Street to Donny’s, the bell chiming over the door as he pulled it open. He surveyed the room as he walked in and then cleared his throat.

  “Excuse me.” His loud voice echoed through the room, and the conversation slowed to a stop. “Sorry to disturb your lunch. But the hippo needs to move. An auger will be arriving Monday to drill the anchor points for the playground, and the hippo is in the way.”

  Everyone stared at him like he wasn’t speaking English.

  He offered his best smile. “I just need to know who to talk to about moving it.”

  Again, nothing.

  He had no desire to bust up a town ritual, but he also didn’t want the hippo to get damaged. That would really put a damper on their tradition. He kept his smile in place, but now it felt a bit forced. “The alternative is that I move it with—”

  “Trying to move Otis is a five-thousand-million-dollar ticket.” A little girl who looked about seven spoke up. She propped her hands on her hips as her blonde pigtail swung back and forth. “And my brother will punch you.”

  “A five-thousand-dollar fine, Trinity.” Nate walked up and stood next to Austin. “And no punching. I don’t think Gideon would appreciate you offering to get him into any fights.”

  “Nate!” She jumped up to give him a high five. “You’re here. This guy has your face. But I knowed it wasn’t you because he doesn’t have the drawings on his arms. And you’d never try and move Otis.” She sent another scowl toward Austin. “And he called him the hippo—he didn’t even know his name.”

  Another Nate fan, of course. But Austin knew how to talk to kids. He squatted down to look her in the eye. “I just don’t want it to get hurt by the big machine coming, Trinity. Do you know how it moves?”

  She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “He walks when people aren’t looking, duh.”

  “Cabbage.” A woman’s voice carried from a nearby booth.

  He stood and moved to a booth packed with four gray-haired women. One he’d met a few times when he came into the diner. Lucy, was it? She took a sip of her coffee, but her eyes stayed on him. “If you want Otis to move, you feed him cabbage.”

  She’d always seemed lucid when he encountered her, but maybe not. “I can’t feed him anything. He’s a statue.”

  She looked at the little girl and back at him. “Lay the cabbage by his mouth. He’ll move when he’s ready.”

  “Or you could take me out on a date, sugar, and I’ll tell you how he moves.” The oldest woman of the group spoke up. She patted her gray hair pulled back in a bun as she sent him a wink.

  “Oh, Margret.” Another of the women swatted her arm. “You don’t know how he moves any more than anyone else.”

  Margret scowled at the woman. “He doesn’t know that. And he’s cute.”

  He had no response for that. “How will putting a cabbage next to it”—he glanced at the little girl—“next to him—help?”

  “It’ll give him the energy to move.” Trinity patted Nate on the arm and then whispered loudly, “Your brother isn’t very smart.”

  “Trinity. Come finish your pie.” Janie spoke from behind the counter.

  As soon as the girl wandered off, Austin lifted one eyebrow at Lucy. “You know how the statue moves?”

  “No. Honest. But I remember different times when it really needed to be moved, people would put a cabbage by its mouth. It’s been years. But I have lived here a good while.”

  The woman with short hair and bright red lipstick tapped her finger on the table. “I do remember my father doing that very thing once.”

  There had to be almost three hundred accumulated years in Heritage between the four of them. “You’re saying that not one of you has any idea who moves it or how it moves.”

  They all shook their heads. Either this town was full of better actors than Hollywood or no one really knew.

  Nate tugged on his arm. “I got us a booth.”

  Austin slid into the spot opposite Nate and shook his head. “Let me guess. You don’t know how the hippo moves either.”

  “Nope. And I’ve yet to meet someone who claimed to have a guess.” Nate set the menu aside without looking at it. “And Trin is right. All the locals call him Otis.”

  “I’m not a local.” Austin grabbed the other menu and looked it over. “Did you see a key when you were at my house feeding Shiro the other day? An antique key. Maybe lying on a table somewhere.”

  “No. Is that what you wanted to ask? I’m all for having lunch, but you could have asked me that on the phone.”

  Right. To the point. Why was this so hard? “I need a . . . favor.”

  “From me?”

  “Yes.” Austin shifted in his seat. If he wanted to take Libby on the date he’d planned, then he needed to let go of a little of his pride.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I need you to sign for a delivery.”

  “That’s all? The way you’re acting, I thought you were going to ask for a kidney.”

  Austin huffed. “My kidneys are probably in better shape than yours.”

  “Liver, maybe. But I think my kidneys are valuable. I had a guy offer me a lot of money for one once.” Nate patted his side. “But I didn’t sell it. I never knew if you’d need one.”

  Austin shook his head and reached for his wallet. He pulled out a card and slid it across the table. “It’s a special delivery of heirloom roses that I’m going to plant around the schoolhouse. There’s a long waiting list, so I can’t reschedule. You have to sign for it—they won’t leave them.”

  Nate picked up the card and read it over. “No problem. What do you have going on?”

  “I’m taking Libby on a date.”

  Nate’s movements paused, and he looked up without commenting.

  “I know what you said before.” He ran his hand across the dark gray surface of the table. “But I really . . . like her.”

  “And Bec
ky?”

  Austin sat back and drew a deep breath. “Honestly, being away from her is like a breath of fresh air. I hadn’t even thought about her since I moved here—that is, until two weeks ago. And I only thought about her then because Dad kept calling Libby ‘Becky.’”

  “That must have been awkward.”

  A waitress set two waters and two straws in front of them.

  Nate smiled at her. “We need a minute.”

  Austin dropped a straw into his drink and wadded the wrapper into a tight ball in his fingers. “She just dismissed it as a part of his Alzheimer’s.”

  “Did you explain later?”

  “I will. I’m not quite ready to throw all my dirty laundry at her.” Austin set the wrapper aside and leaned forward. “Have you explained to Olivia about your past?”

  “Most of it.”

  “But not all of it.”

  “No.” Nate stirred his drink with his straw and looked back at Austin. “But maybe it’s time.” He reached for his phone, then stopped. “Some things need to happen in person. I’ll go tonight.”

  “I’m not trying to call you out. I’m just saying that certain conversations need to come at the right time, and Libby and I aren’t there yet.”

  “No, I get it. But I think it’s come for Olivia and me.” Nate slid the card with the delivery information into his shirt pocket. “I’ll sign for the order. And I hope things work out for you and Libby. I mean that.”

  “I’m not trying to be a jerk.” Austin rubbed the back of his neck, then leaned forward on the table with his elbows. “But I need to know I can trust you on this. This can’t be something you flake on.”

  The muscle in Nate’s jaw twitched. “I’ll be there. I’ll tell the station I can’t be on call that day, and I’ll work from your house. You can trust me.”

  “I hope so.” Austin picked up the menu again. One item taken care of. Now it looked like he was going to do something he’d have sworn he’d never do—buy a cabbage for a statue.

  Another stellar review from Mr. Lang and another few bucks in her pocket. Olivia reread the email from him and made note of when her fishing article would run in the paper. If things kept up, she might have enough of a print portfolio to show Phoenix before Christmas.

  The idea of moving 1,600 miles away didn’t have the same appeal as it had before—especially after Thursday. But part of her still longed to be a journalist, and if she didn’t keep working toward that, what was she working toward? She didn’t want to be a part-time waitress the rest of her life.

  So until she had a solid reason to stay in Heritage, she had to keep moving forward. And right now, moving forward meant turning in another article that impressed Mr. Lang.

  The question was, what should she write next? She’d submitted a list of ideas to him last week, but he’d yet to get back to her. As long as it wasn’t something crazy like bungee jumping.

  She could write an article on tattoos. The image of Nate standing shirtless in the woods returned once again to the front of her mind. Not that her brain had yet to wander too far from that memory. No, it ran more like a broken record in her head. That and their kiss.

  She’d never kissed anyone before, so she had nothing to compare it to, but . . . wow.

  He’d started the kiss gentle and tender, but it was as if he was holding back. And after all this time—all the waiting—the gentleness wasn’t enough for Olivia. She wanted more. She’d been so embarrassed when her desire and frustration escaped in the form of a slight moan, but for whatever reason it shifted Nate into a new gear. He was no longer tender and careful. He wasn’t rough, but a hunger in him came to the surface. And the way his hands gripped her back, she had never felt more desired in her life.

  She’d pretty much lost all thought by the time Nate pulled away. Her skin still hummed with the mere thought of it. She’d actually believed for a fraction of a second that the kiss meant something. Meant that he’d come to his senses. Meant that they could be together. But one look at his face had shattered that idea like a glass bowl hitting the tile.

  Still, if he thought of that kiss even half as much as it was running through her mind, he might come around. He still seemed to be avoiding her, but it was different now. A couple of times he looked as if he were about to approach her but then changed his mind.

  She’d often heard talk about a physical spark between two people, and Olivia had always dismissed the idea. But kissing Nate? Yup, she’d call that a spark. He might have been the one to stop it, but she had a feeling he’d been as affected by it as she had.

  A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

  Olivia opened the door. Jackson Mackers? He’d been one of her closest friends in high school, but she hadn’t seen him in years. “I can’t believe you’re here. How long has it been?”

  “Too long.” He wrapped her in a giant bear hug, lifting her off her feet. Which was no small task with her five-ten height. He smelled of expensive cologne, and his shirt was not off the rack from Penney’s. Did selling an app for a million dollars make someone a millionaire, or did that take at least two million?

  He set her down and stepped back. Same ol’ Jackson, but his blond hair from high school had been trimmed into a professional business cut. “Good to see you too.”

  “Come in.” Olivia opened the door wider. “Want me to make you some coffee?”

  “You always did know my weakness.” Jackson followed her to the kitchen and took a seat at the secondhand oak table.

  “My roommate just made fresh cookies.” Olivia poured water into the coffee maker, added the grounds, and pressed the button. “I can’t believe you surprised me like this. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be in town? How long are you here for? How did you know where I live?”

  “Whoa. Let me catch up. My mom told me where you live now. I’ll be in town a while. You look good.” Jackson took a cookie from the plate and peered out the window that faced the square. “I almost didn’t recognize the town. My mom said there had been a lot of changes, but I never expected this.”

  “No kidding.” Olivia pulled two mugs from the cupboard, avoiding the one with the large chip. “You remember Hannah Thornton? It’s Hannah Taylor now—”

  “Wait. I thought I heard she married Luke Johnson.” He ran his hand over a worn spot in the table. No doubt he was used to five-star living.

  “She did, but it turns out his name wasn’t really Luke Johnson. It’s Luke Taylor. His dad—”

  The front door burst open.

  “Look who I found on the front porch.” Libby’s voice echoed through the house. “I told him he had to come try my new cookie recipe. Plus I needed his help.”

  Libby walked in with a bag of groceries in her arms, followed by Nate holding a second bag. His eyes connected with Olivia’s. A bit of that longing she’d seen before the kiss saturated his gaze. She took a half step toward him. Then his gaze shifted to Jackson.

  Oh. Shoot.

  Nate looked back at her, his brows lifted.

  “This is my old friend Jackson,” Olivia said. She’d tried to emphasize the word “friend” without it sounding like she was trying to. “Jackson, this is my roommate, Libby, and . . .”

  She glanced out of the corner of her eye toward Nate. What? My friend? The guy I kissed? The guy who refuses to be my boyfriend?

  She looked back at Jackson. “Pastor Nate.”

  Nate dropped the bag on the table with a thud. Hope there wasn’t anything breakable in there. He extended his hand to Jackson. “That’s me. Her pastor.”

  Jackson stood and took the offered hand. “Olivia and I go way back.”

  Wide-eyed, Libby started putting away produce in the fridge. Well, this wasn’t awkward.

  “I was just pouring coffee.” Olivia pulled two more mugs from the cupboard as the gurgling sound of the coffee maker announced it was ready. “Nate, how do you take yours?”

  “Black.”

  She filled two mugs, then added a
spoonful of sugar to one of them, stirred it, and held that one out to Jackson and the other out to Nate.

  Jackson accepted his coffee with a slight smirk and took a sip. “You know just the way I like it, even after all these years.”

  Nate’s knuckles whitened as they tightened on the mug in his hand. “Actually, I need to go. There’s something I need to talk with Austin about. Thanks for the cookie.”

  He set the mug on the table, lifted a cookie from the plate, and turned back to the door.

  No.

  “Mr. Lang said the fishing article was perfect. Thank you,” Olivia blurted.

  Nate paused but didn’t turn. He gave one nod and then he was gone.

  Libby’s gaze bounced from Olivia to Jackson to where Nate had just disappeared.

  Jackson finished his coffee in a few large gulps and stood. “I hate to run off too, but my mom is expecting me home for dinner. Maybe we could find a night next week to grab some dinner and catch up. I’d love to hear how you’re doing.”

  “Of course.” Olivia forced a smile to her lips. No fair to ignore Jackson because Nate couldn’t seem to make up his mind. “Do you still have my cell?”

  “Yes. I’ll text you.” With those parting words, he was gone.

  Libby cringed as the front door shut. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Olivia dropped into a chair at the table.

  Libby shut the fridge and folded up the grocery bag. “Where are the dogs?”

  “Took them over to Luke’s for a bit while I was vacuuming. They were going nuts.” She snatched a cookie from the plate and took a bite.

  “Darcy hates vacuums.” Libby slid the bag in the drawer and stepped back to where Nate had dropped the other one. “So, Jackson. He’s cute.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Olivia closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. This was all going to give her a headache. “We’re just friends.”

  “Does he know that?”

  Olivia’s eyes popped open. “What do you mean? We’ve always been friends.”

  Libby shrugged as she unloaded cans and pasta. “He wasn’t looking at you like a friend. That’s all I’m saying. And Nate?”

  “What about him?”