The Cinderella Hoedown
Page 3
“So you’re an artist,” said Tom.
“An artist? Me?” scoffed Kelly. “No frikkin’ way. I’m just doing some painting, that’s all.”
“Do we have two different definitions of ‘artist’? Does that word mean something else down here in Fallowedirt? Is it a four-letter-word?” asked Tom.
“Ha-ha, real funny,” said Kelly. “I’m just not an artist, okay? And don’t say it’s cliché to say that.”
“I don’t have to if you say it for me,” teased Tom.
The triangle rang out over the diners and Tom got up, but not before getting in one last quip.
“If you aren’t into painting canvases, maybe you should go into fashion design,” said Tom. “That outfit looks like it came right off the catwalk…well, except the sneakers.”
“What’s wrong with my sneakers?” asked Kelly, annoyed, as Tom walked away.
“Well, hello, stranger,” said a voice.
Kelly turned. Of course, of all three of the first speed dates she’d have that night, Will would be included in their number. He’d taken his hat off, exposing his blond hair, icy blue eyes, and unshaved chin.
“Hey yourself,” said Kelly. “You ready to spend the next ten minutes eating?”
“Nah, it’s a speed date, isn’t it?” asked Will. “Doesn’t that mean I need to make nice?”
“Didn’t look like you were doing that with the other girls,” said Kelly. “Don’t tell me you’re not here for the food and just the food.”
“Just because I wasn’t looking to talk to other girls doesn’t mean I’m not looking to talk to you,” said Will. “In fact, I was saving all my charm for you, dollface.”
“All of nothing is still nothing,” said Kelly. “I’m saying you have zero charm, knucklehead.”
“Still a math geek, or have you moved into the arts yet?” asked Will, motioning over Kelly’s outfit.
“Some of us are doing things with our summers,” said Kelly.
“Implying I’m not?” asked Will.
“I’m sure you’re not,” said Kelly. “What have you been doing, drinking cheap vodka out of a paper bag behind the bleachers?”
“Not much time for that, working the hours I work at the ranch,” said Will.
“Ha-ha,” said Kelly.
“Not kidding,” said Will. “You think all this is just for show?” Will motioned over his outfit.
“Well, well, well,” said Kelly. “The bad boy got a job?”
“First off, what you should be saying is, ‘Will, Will, Will,’ but I’ll let you save that for when I get you in my bed,” said Will. “Secondly, yeah, I’ve always had a job, ever since I was in high school. I just have a better one now, one that lets me exhaust my bear so he’ll shut the fuck up and let me sleep at night.”
“Your bear?” asked Kelly. “Oh no. What the world needs is Will frikkin’ Price in possession of a big, bad shift.”
“You’re acting like this is a surprise,” said Will.
“You never struck me as the serious, mysterious shifter type,” said Kelly.
“Who said there’s a type?” said Will. “I’m going to have a lot to teach you about shifters, won’t I, Kelly Dean? I guess we should start with lesson one, about fated mates.”
“I’m not stupid,” said Kelly. “I know what a fated mate is. I know that when you find your fated mate, she’s going to be the one person you’ll want to be with…forever. Your true love.”
“I thought I could teach you a more…practical lesson,” said Will. “A more…practical lesson.”
“Ha-ha, Will. Always with the jokes,” said Kelly. “You’ve joked around about that since high school, and you’re still joking about it now? You need some new material.”
“Who said I was joking?” asked Will, and before Kelly could answer, the triangle rang out over the diners.
Kelly’s next date was milquetoast. The one after that? A wimp. The one after that? A drip. All they served to do was highlight how superior Kelly’s first three speed dates were…even the date with Will. When Kelly got her card at the end of the night, she knew exactly how she was going to fill it out.
Chapter Two
“…And so that’s what happened,” said Kelly, sipping at her lemonade while sitting on her parents’ porch. They’d never sold the old Fallowedirt house and had been more than happy to let her use it while they worked in Houston. They’d barely had time to visit more than a handful of times that summer. After a long day of painting sets for the Fallowedirt Hoedown with Savina, she was dehydrated. She’d managed to get too invested in her painting again, painting for hours and hours without a break, without getting up. Her legs had fallen asleep and shaking them vigorously hadn’t helped much, so she’d taken that as a sign it was time for her to go home, once she was in driving shape again.
“Okay, you can’t just leave me hanging like that,” said Savina, rocking back in her chair. “Whose names did you mark on your card?”
“All three of them,” said Kelly. “What are the chances that they all end up contacting me?”
“One hundred percent,” said Savina. “They’d be fools not to fight over you.”
“Yeah, because during the summer where I mess around with paint while trying to figure out my real job, I need more emotional turmoil, right?” asked Kelly sarcastically.
“Look, you got dinner last night, so aren’t you due for a show?” teased Savina.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Kelly. “I don’t know. I just want…”
“What?” asked Savina.
“Oh, it’s silly,” said Kelly.
“What is it?” asked Savina.
“I just…I want something that makes sense right now,” said Kelly. “I want something that’s stable. I want something to act as my rock. I know that’s unhealthy. I know that’s a lot to ask from a relationship. I know that’s a lot to ask for a relationship that’s new. But right now, I’ll take whatever help I can get, in any way I can get it. You were the one who said it: I don’t need to be good at dating. I just need to find the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“And so you think that two of the guys taking themselves out of the running for you will make your decision easier?” asked Savina.
“Kinda,” admitted Kelly. “Is that weird?”
“It’s normal,” said Savina.
“Good,” said Kelly.
“Well, ‘normal’ doesn’t always mean ‘good,’” corrected Savina. “Trust me. You don’t want normal.”
“Your grandma said that last night,” said Kelly.
“Well, speak of the devil,” said Savina.
“I don’t think that phrase means what you think it means,” said Kelly.
“No. I mean it. Look,” said Savina, pointing down the drive.
Kelly looked and saw an SUV pulling up into her driveway.
“Grandma Quiggly?” asked Savina. “What in the high Heavens are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see your friend, Kelly,” said Grandma Quiggly. “Luckily, I caught you two here, so I won’t have to do much carrying.”
“Hi, Grandma Quiggly,” said Kelly. “Carrying?”
“Follow after me,” ordered Grandma Quiggly, so the gals had no choice but to follow the surprisingly spry elderly woman back to her SUV. Grandma Quiggly opened the trunk. The trunk was filled with fancy packages, from balloons and gift baskets to boxes for shoes.
“Kelly, dear, I have good news, and I thought you’d want to hear it in person,” said Grandma Quiggly.
“You came all this way to tell me good news?” asked Kelly.
“Well, and to deliver your packages in person,” said Grandma Quiggly.
“My…packages?” asked Kelly. “You’re a courier now?”
“Don’t you sass me,” said Grandma Quiggly. “Else I may not explain what any of this is about!”
Kelly bit her tongue although a witty retort was already trying to wiggle its way out of Kelly’s mouth.
“Yeah, did I get a match?” asked Kelly.
“In fact, you did, and that’s what I’m here to tell you,” said Grandma Quiggly. “And to hunt down the twenty bucks that Savina owes me. Forty, with interest.”
“With interest?!” exclaimed Savina. “I swear, you’re trying to get me to pay your retirement.”
“Should I make it sixty?” asked Grandma Quiggly.
“No, Grandma Quiggly, sorry,” said Savina, going through her purse to find some twenties.
“Now, where was I…” said Grandma Quiggly. “Oh, right, your match. You’ve been matched with a Mr. Jeffrey Bennet, who would like to ask you on a date, formally.”
“Formally?” asked Kelly. “I don’t follow.”
“As a token of his affection, he’s arranged for you to receive…this,” said Grandma Quiggly. She passed a simple bucket of cut wildflowers to Kelly.
The flowers still smelled of a wild meadow, and on the edge of the bouquet, there was a note. The note was simple, but enough to make Kelly smile one of her first genuine smiles of the summer.
Dear Miss Kelly Dean,
We picked each other
I picked these flowers and the place
You pick the date
Your suitor,
Jeffrey Bennet
“Okay, how much did Jeff pay for this?” asked Kelly.
“Fifty dollars for on the spot delivery by me,” said Grandma Quiggly. “The delivery service provides a non-creepy way for the singles to make romantic gestures to each other. While your phone numbers have been exchanged, your addresses have not, so if somebody wants to make a big impression, they’re going to have to pony up and let Grandma Quiggly do their dirty work.”
“Now, Grandma, what did I tell you about racketeering?” joked Savina. “I should be the one hitting you up for cash!”
“Do I need to make it eighty, child?” snapped Grandma Quiggly. “Your sister Kai never put me through this kind of nonsense…anyways, yes, he paid for the delivery.”
“But I mean, how much did he pay you to buy the flowers?” asked Kelly.
“He didn’t pay for that,” said Grandma Quiggly. “He was at my office bright and early this morning, before I’d even made my first cup of coffee, with this bucket of dew-covered petals. I had to store it in my fridge, and I nearly charged him extra for that, but my heart melted, given you were the only gal he marked himself as interested in.”
“I was his only choice?” asked Kelly. “No frikkin’ way! What are the odds of that happening?”
“Very high, it seems, given you have another suitor who similarly chose you and only you…and who was luckily chosen by you as well,” said Grandma Quiggly. “I have a token of affection from a Mr. Thomas King for you.”
“Okay, hold the horses, what?” asked Kelly. “I have another suitor?”
“This gift was far more…well, you be the judge,” said Grandma Quiggly. She fiddled with stuff in the back of her car and put together a crystal vase with long stem red roses before attaching a note. Kelly went for the note first, not able to handle the suspense of wondering who sent the bouquet. Was it the doctor from out of town or the bad boy townie? She quickly scanned over the lines.
For Kelly Queen:
Now, we can say we’ve skipped the part with the roses in crystal vases.
Ready for round two?
Yours,
The King
“Not really what I could see Mace giving me,” said Savina. “But they’re…nice.”
“It’s an in-joke,” said Kelly. “Don’t worry.”
“Oh, well, in that case, they’re tacky as heck,” said Savina. “But as long as it’s a funny in-joke…”
“Ha-ha-ha,” said Kelly sarcastically. She carefully picked the floral bucket up by the handle and carried the crystal vase with her other hand.
“You girls stay out of trouble,” said Grandma Quiggly. “Well…mostly Savina. Kelly, you get in all the trouble you can handle!”
“I will, Grandma Quiggly,” promised Kelly, before walking back up to the porch with Savina. Savina got the door for Kelly, and the pair went inside to put the flowers and the vases away.
“So…which one are you going to date?” asked Savina as Kelly added the last bit of water to the vases.
“I guess I’m going to give them both a shot,” admitted Kelly. “After all, what are the chances I click with both?”
Chapter Three
The next Saturday, Kelly was dressed in jeans, a lightweight plaid print linen shirt, and a pair of cowboy boots. She only had a single pair of cowboy boots, and they were too small and pinchy to be comfortable, but hopefully her date with Jeff wouldn’t require much walking. At least, that’s what Kelly was hoping.
And of course, ever the gentleman, Jeff granted that wish for Kelly…in true cowboy fashion.
Kelly heard a knock at the door and opened it. Outside was Jeff, in a cleanly laundered well-worn flannel shirt worn thin from years of wear. He was wearing his least raggedy pair of jeans, and of course, his cowboy boots. Not only was his hat in hand, but he was also holding a second hat in his other hand.
“I had to guess at the size, but, hopefully, you’re a hat gal,” said Jeff, helping Kelly put the hat on. Kelly looked at herself in the mirror. Her outfit was cute, but the hat made it even cuter.
“I love it,” said Kelly. “Sorry I didn’t get you anything.”
“You’re gracing me with your fine, fine company, now ain’tcha?” asked Jeff. “Come on. I have a treat in store for you.”
Jeff led Kelly out the door, and her jaw dropped when she saw what was waiting for her.
There were two horses in front of her frikkin’ house, just standing there, watching Jeff and Kelly. One was white and gray dappled, the other, a palomino. Both were saddled up and ready for riding.
“Two frikkin’ horses?” asked Kelly. “Jeff…I have to admit something. I might talk a big game about being a country gal, but…I haven’t ridden a horse in quite some time.”
“It’s like riding a bike,” said Jeff. “Something you’ll never forget…and that city slickers can’t seem to do well.”
Jeff helped Kelly up onto the palomino and once she had the reins in her hands, he got on his horse and led her down the street out of her neighborhood and into the town of Fallowedirt proper, right down Main Street.
At first, Kelly felt self-conscious, riding on a horse through town, but as she talked to Jeff, she felt as if being on a horse next to him was the most natural thing in the world. He had a way of putting her at ease, at helping her forget her responsibilities and worries. Gone were concerns about attracting enough guests to the hoedown, about finishing up the decorations, about looking for a real job.
All that was left was the sensation of living in the now. Kelly could feel the warmth and heft of the beast below her, carrying her through town, and she felt tall. She felt big, not just curvy, but big, bigger than her problems, bigger than the mundane people running silly errands around them. Being next to Jeff and talking about things that bothered her, while he nodded his head and offered what comforts he could, was better than a visit to any spa, was even better than any venting session she’d hashed out with Savina.
There was only one topic Kelly resisted asking about. It was the topic of Jeff’s shift. Her mother’d forced her to take a cotillion class in Houston one summer, part of why she hadn’t gone back this summer. That class had covered etiquette surrounding what fork to use with which meal and how to properly waltz. It didn’t cover what questions to ask a shifter and how to dance around the topic of the beast within the man that was charming her with every drop of their horses’ hooves against the city’s cobbled roads (recently commissioned by the Scoville to add some old world charm to the town).
The shift fascinated Kelly. As a human, with no shift to call her own like most humans, she
had no idea what it must be like. What was it like to have the power to turn into something else? What was it like to have the power to transform from a soft, fleshy thing into a beast capable of tearing apart everything in its path with claws and roaring at anything that pissed it off in the slightest? There were times Kelly wished she could solve her problems that simply. There was no way that being human could ever compare to being a shifter. There was no set of benefits she uniquely had, no advantages that made her special.
As they left the city limits of Fallowedirt, leaving the “Welcome to Fallowedirt” sign in their dust, Jeff asked Kelly, “How do you feel…about taking this faster?”
“Taking this faster,” asked Kelly, motioning between herself and Jeff.
“I meant getting to our destination faster,” said Jeff.
“Oh! I can handle a little speed,” said Kelly.
“A light trot?” asked Jeff. “We can always go slower if you want.”
“What do I do to make the horse go faster?” asked Kelly.
“You don’t have to do a damn thing,” said Jeff with a smile.
As if by magic, the horses started to ambulate faster, going from a walk to a light trot, then a medium trot. Before long, the pair was traveling at twice the speed they were going before, Kelly’s hair lightly blowing behind her, bouncing off of her shoulders, into the air and back down, as she kept an iron grip on her horse.
“You’re doing good,” said Jeff. “Just relax. They won’t let you fall.”
“What makes you so sure?” asked Kelly.