by Jen Peters
“He’s in the dining room, Miss,” came the reply.
Through the doorway, white-draped tables sported small vases of fresh flowers. An antique sideboard held more flowers, along with serving dishes and a place for buffet food. Mitch was at a table in the back corner, head down over some paperwork.
Robin smoothed her dress and approached. “I’d like to talk to you about a grant, Mr. Blake,” she began, keeping things as professional as possible.
Mitch raised his eyebrows. “What’s with the Mister? You were calling me Mitch at the last barbecue.”
Robin blushed. “Yes, well, this is business so I thought…”
“It’s always ‘Mitch,’ Robin. But a grant? Your mother and I have already talked about Nora’s Place, and she turned me down.”
“No,” Robin interrupted. “This is for me, not the restaurant. I want—”
He waited, his gray eyes more patient than she’d expect for a lawyer. Ree had picked a good guy to marry. She took a deep breath. “You know I rescue stray animals, right?”
He gave a wry smile. “I could hardly miss that at your house.”
“Right, well,” she paused to open her folder, “I want to start an animal shelter. A real one.”
Mitch nodded, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
She laid one paper after another in front of him. “This is how much room we’d need, this is a possible layout for kennels and cat apartments, plus meet-and-greet rooms, plus supply rooms and grooming areas.”
He perused her amateur sketches, his face a study in concentration. Should she have had them professionally done?
She thumbed the papers still in her hand. “This is what Justin and I figured for the cost of renovating a building I found, plus the utilities and such, and how much per animal it would cost to feed them. Dr. Jan is willing to provide low cost vet services. And this is how I would get the word out.” Robin pushed the rest of the papers over to him, relieved to get the last words out.
The lawyer took his time examining her figures. Long enough that Robin wished she had put together a full marketing presentation. Her old professors would give her an F for what she had just done.
He flipped to the last page, then back to an earlier one. He frowned.
Dang it. She had come in with such high hopes, and Cliff believed in her, and now Mitch was going to say no. What would she do then? Mom would put up with the animals for a while longer, she was sure, but what about her? If she couldn’t start and run an animal shelter, would she be waitressing at the restaurant forever?
Thoughts of working with Cliff on the ranch flashed through her mind, and she shoved them out just as fast. It was way too early for that, no matter how much she was drawn to him. And even if those awesome kisses and the sparks between them turned into something solid, she still needed to stand on her own two feet.
Mitch continued to frown. Clamped his lips together, even. Robin sank into her chair. Maybe she could go back to school and become a CPA. She wouldn’t have to deal with very many people then, and her clients would be the nervous ones, not her. The only problem with that was that her math sucked.
Mitch scribbled some numbers, the frown still in place. Were her figures wrong? But Cliff had gone over them with her! Or maybe he sucked at math as much as she did.
Mitch finally looked up. He tapped his pencil.
Robin held her breath.
“You’ve got a good plan here, Robin,” he said. “And from what I know of the town so far, there’s a definite need for a shelter. But I think your estimate for operating expenses is rather low.”
“But I asked around about heating costs and—”
He quickly shook his head. “Those will fluctuate, and some things you can’t really know until you get there, like just how many animals you’ll have at one time. But there’s a big part missing.”
Robin racked her brain to try to think of what.
Mitch smiled. “The director is going to need a salary, don’t you think?”
Huh? “But…I would be the director. I wouldn’t be hiring someone else.”
“And don’t you need a salary? Surely you don’t think you can get a new animal shelter up and running while you work full time as a waitress?”
Oh. Pay herself. “I never thought of that.”
“Didn’t think so. So here are some new numbers for you to think about.” He turned his paper around so she could see it.
Her eyes widened. He wanted her to pay herself that much? That was double what she was earning at the restaurant. She shook her head. “I can’t…”
“I know it’s not a lot, but you’ll be working for it. And when you get more funding, you can raise it to where it ought to be.”
Robin was dumbfounded. If she earned that, she could replace her car. She could get her own place. She could… She shook her head ruefully. No, she’d probably spend it on helping more animals.
“So does that mean you’ll approve a grant?”
Mitch took a breath. “Yes and no. The Foundation can grant you the building costs and six months rent, but you’ll need to do your share of fundraising for the rest. I’ll set you up with some possible donors. You have a marketing background you can put to good use, right?”
Robin was stunned. That was a huge amount for the McCormick Foundation to cover, and she could get creative with some of the other needs. But still …
Fundraising. Public. Strangers. Large groups.
A chill settled over her body and her brain stopped functioning. Images from the past whooshed by: standing frozen in her history class when sabotaged slides flashed on the screen, the jeering faces of her boyfriend’s frat brothers, the mocking from two obnoxious marketing classmates.
Calm down! Those were eons ago and didn’t matter now. Breathe. When she could finally think again, Mitch was talking.
“…contingent on these numbers, including your salary. If that’s amenable to you, I’ll have my secretary draw up the papers.”
All Robin could do was nod and shake his hand on her way out. No matter what she had to do in front of however many people, it was worth it to have that much money donated. And Cliff would be by her side, right?
Still, her mind flitted from one thing to another while Cliff drove her home. She couldn’t explain anything easily—it would take a lot of time to go through the events in her past, and she didn’t know if she wanted to dump all that on him yet.
So she said nothing, just gave him a soft kiss before she took her jumbled thoughts inside the house.
Chapter 14
Cliff slammed the truck door and stomped out to the paddock. The tranquil scene of horses grazing on green grass blurred as he remembered dropping Robin off at home.
“See you later,” he’d said, giving her a quick kiss while Augie pawed her leg for attention.
That was all.
Nothing about seeing her again, nothing about how he was feeling, nothing other than that lame goodbye.
Not that he wanted to talk about how he was feeling—it was rather confusing to him, so why would he try to give an incoherent explanation to someone else? Especially the same someone who was making him so confused?
But he should have come up with something better than See you later.
He felt warm breath on his arm, then a tickle of whiskers. He reached up to rub Zeus’s face. “You’ve come to commiserate with me, huh, boy? You must have a sixth sense.”
The gelding lipped Cliff’s hand, then gave a gentle shove against his head. “Hey!” Cliff pulled back. “Just because I haven’t got a carrot doesn’t mean you can push me around.”
Zeus snorted and rested his chin on Cliff’s shoulder. Cliff stiffened under the weight—it always surprised him just how heavy a horse’s head was.
“So when can I get into town again, buddy? There’s really not any reason to go again, and there’s loads to do around here. Got to earn my keep, you know.”
He stood silently with Zeus, and Robin’s fa
ce and hair and scent and smile filled his mind. “I like her. I really like her,” he murmured to his four-legged best friend. “And that kiss! Too bad horses don’t kiss—you don’t know what you’re missing.” He chuckled, then let the silence and the camaraderie with Zeus quiet his heart.
“Cliff? You out here?” came Uncle Phil’s voice. He rounded the corner of the barn. “Did Mac have the wire we need?”
“Yeah,” Cliff sighed. “It’s in the back of the truck.”
“Did you stop and see Grandma?”
“Yeah.”
“Just ‘yeah?’ That’s awfully concise, even for you.” He clapped a hand on Cliff’s shoulder. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. And Grandma’s fine.” Cliff scuffed his boot in the dirt.
“Hmm. Grandma’s fine, your horse is fine, your truck is fine. Must be girl trouble.”
Cliff rubbed Zeus behind the ear for a moment, then said, “I just dropped her off at home. Didn’t ask her out or anything.”
Phil gave him a sideways look. “You got a phone, don’t you? And you know how to use it?”
Cliff puffed air through his lips. “I guess.”
“There you go then. And Jess’ll have dinner on in about half an hour.” The older man left, still chuckling.
Phones. Cliff hated phones. Texts came out stilted, and the words that sounded funny when he wrote them seemed sarcastic or rude as soon as he pressed Send.
And talking to someone? He couldn’t pinpoint why, and his dad had teased him about it mercilessly, but he’d much rather drive over and see a person face to face.
He stewed while he topped off water troughs and checked the gates, and continued stewing all through dinner, although not so much that he couldn’t appreciate Aunt Jess’s scrumptious meat pie.
He finally retreated to his bedroom and forced himself to pull out his phone. He slowly pressed her name in his contact list, mentally phrasing and re-phrasing what he wanted to say.
And got her voice mail.
He left a quick message to call him, and flopped on his bed in relief. Geez, how paralyzed could a guy get?
His relief didn’t last, though. He paced his room, tried to watch TV with his aunt and uncle, and finally grabbed the keys to his truck. “I’m going into town for a bit.”
Uncle Phil only grinned.
Cliff drove to the restaurant first—if Robin couldn’t answer her phone, she was probably working. Or else she didn’t want to talk to him. She had been awfully quiet when he dropped her off.
Then he smiled. Even if she hadn’t said much after her meeting with Mitch, she had left him with a sweet, warm kiss to remember. He tossed his keys high, caught them on the way down, and headed inside.
Robin grinned when she looked up, almost sloshing coffee over the cup she was refilling. Cliff took a seat in a booth and waited.
She poured a cup for him, then sat down. “It’s slowing down now, I can take a minute. I didn’t think I’d see you again today.”
Cliff gave a sheepish half-smile. “I got your voicemail when I called, but that’s okay. Phones and I don’t get along much.”
“So you drove all the way in to town, huh?” Her eyes sparkled and he wanted to kiss her right then.
He shrugged instead. “I wanted to ask… Look, is there anything to do in this town besides the bowling alley?”
“Not really. Well, the Criterion plays second-run movies, but it’s all horror stuff right now.” She shuddered. “Not much else, other than hanging out at the Nugget. You know, the bar over behind the IGA grocery.”
He’d been in there once. The loud country music didn’t bother him, but the guys getting sloshed on beer and whiskey did. “Not really what I had in mind.”
Robin brightened suddenly. “I know. There’s a community dance, a fundraiser, on Friday night. It goes to help the after school programs.”
“Dancing?”
Robin’s shoulders sagged. “Maybe you don’t like dancing, but there will be carnival games and food and other stuff.”
“Actually, I do a mean two-step. And the rest sounds good, too. So it’s a date?”
Robin nodded, her grin coming back.
A bell dinged in back. “I’ve got to get back to work,” she said. “See you Friday?”
Cliff nodded and kissed her on the cheek. He tossed his keys higher than ever on the way back to the truck.
Chapter 15
Robin smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Cute flirty skirt, light blouse, sandals she could dance in, and even a pair of earrings. She may not be the prettiest girl in town, but she looked good tonight. Hopefully Cliff would think so, too.
She opened the door to his knock. His eyes widened appreciatively, and he twirled her under his arm on the way to the truck. This time, without a dog between them, she scooted across the seat and breathed in his cologne.
“So, have you been busy these last few days?” he asked, pulling her close beside him.
“Actually, yes.” The weight of his arm felt comfortingly possessive and her heart calmed. “Full shifts at the restaurant, and I’ve been working on the presentation for the town council about that building. Lots of graphics and lots of research for statistics.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Cliff said, squeezing her shoulder.
Robin leaned into him. Was this what it was supposed to be like? A man who supported her, a man she could trust? She looked up at him, this man she was falling in love with. He glanced away from the road to smile at her. Her heart swelled and her whole body sighed.
“What about you? What’s happening at the ranch?”
“Oh, same-old, same-old. Moving stock, moving pipes. Someone came up today, keeping her horse with us and riding all weekend. Brandy is over her cold and fever—we dodged a bullet there.” He paused and glanced at her again. “So what’s tonight going to be like?”
“Games, dancing, lots of people. Just what you wanted, right?”
He laughed, and they pulled into the school parking lot.
The noise blasted down the wide hallway—music, loud and laughing voices, shrieks and cheers. Robin grinned and Cliff looked a little panicked. “Come on, big guy,” she said, “just pretend you’re facing down an ornery steer.”
Robin’s mother was manning the entrance table. “I knew I’d see you here sometime,” she said, “but I wasn’t sure you’d get Cliff to come along.”
“I couldn’t say no,” Cliff said, handing her money for admission plus a few entertainment tickets.
“Don’t let her get away with too much,” Nora said with a grin.
Robin steered him into the cafeteria where the long tables were folded and stacked to the side, making room for carnival booths. A cluster of elementary kids surrounded the ring toss, and a long line of teenagers waited to pelt their principal with whipped cream pies.
“I haven’t seen anything like this since I was a kid,” Cliff said. “What are you good at?”
“Oh, it’s not about what you’re good at, it’s about what’s fun and a bit crazy.” Robin grinned. “And I love to fish even though I bomb every time.” She handed the attendant a ticket and took a toy fishing pole.
Cliff looked at the plastic hook dubiously. “I thought there would be a magnet on the end.”
“Nope, those are only for the little kids. Big kids get the impossible.” She bit her lip and concentrated on getting the lightweight hook into a ring. One swipe after another, the hook only swung in the air.
Cliff grinned. “Need a little help from a master fisherman?”
“Oh, so you think you can do better?” She thrust the rod into his hands, eyes flashing with the challenge.
But try after try, Cliff didn’t have any better luck. “Okay, he finally said, “I bow to your superior skills. Or at least equal lack of skills.”
“Too right!” she laughed, taking the rod back. “One more try.”
And somehow, someway, the hook slid into the ring, and the fake fish lifted into the air. Robin
squealed as Cliff picked her up and swung her around. “You’re brilliant!” He gave her a quick kiss, followed by another.
“I can’t believe it,” she stammered, the public kiss throwing her for a moment, but only a moment.
It was probably a good thing the attendant interrupted them, or they would have had some major PDA going on. “Here’s your prize,” he said, thrusting a plastic bag at her. A goldfish swam contentedly inside.
Robin took it reluctantly. “I never expected to win. What am I going to do with a fish?” She looked at Cliff. “When’s your birthday?”
“January.”
She pushed the fish into his hands. “Happy Early Birthday, then.” She grinned victoriously. “Come on, I want to get my face painted.”
“You’re like a little kid here, aren’t you?”
“Yup! It’s my one time each year to let my hair down, so you better be prepared when next September comes around.”
Next September? Had she really just said she expected them to be together that long? She snuck a glance at Cliff, but he was giving the goldfish an inane smile.
It didn’t seem like he had heard, so maybe she hadn’t just blown everything.
The Beaumont twins were running the face painting booth, and Miss Lily pulled Robin in with a hug and a smile. The elderly lady turned to Cliff. “And you, young man, are you after a picture on your face, too? A heart, perhaps?”
Cliff put his hands up and backed off, but Robin sat happily while Miss Rose did some incredible artwork. Five minutes later, she sported a dog on her cheek that looked remarkably like Augie. “You’re awesome, as always, Miss Rose,” Robin said, giving her as much of a hug as the stiff woman would allow.
“Get on with you,” Miss Rose said, but Robin could tell she was holding back a smile.
