His heart was soon pounding. His brain had switched off. And—
“Dogs, all mighty! It’s the middle of the workday.”
Shelby would have leaped back at her grandfather’s intrusion, but Gage kept her in his arms. “Don’t run off.”
Someone’s cell phone was ringing. Hers.
She drew it from her back pocket. “I have to go.” She took a step back from his embrace.
“We should talk,” Gage stated woodenly.
“Tonight,” she promised. And then she was gone, taking Lucky with her.
* * *
SHELBY HAD PAID Ryan twenty bucks to pick up pizza for her when he ran an errand in Cloverdale late in the day. Pepperoni. Mushrooms. Fresh red pepper. Extra cheese. Dinner didn’t get much better than that, especially when she was in charge of the kitchen.
Christine had called and asked Shelby to return to the winery because the Cabernet grapes were nearing their peak.
They’d be inviting everyone back to Harmony Valley for another night harvest soon, possibly giving the copper thief another chance to pick the empty businesses clean. Christine, Ryan and Shelby had spent the earlier part of the afternoon preparing. They transferred the Chardonnay juice from the fermentation tanks to smaller oak casks. Then they cleaned out the fermentation tanks in preparation for the Cabernet grapes that were to be harvested.
A quick call to Felix had reassured Shelby that the two orange kittens were doing well. He was feeding them formula every two hours and had promised Gage he’d bring them in for a checkup in the morning.
Shelby stretched her tense shoulders. She had no idea what she was going to say to Gage when she saw him later. She’d insisted she wasn’t interested in a relationship and then kissed him. She thought her mind was made up, even if her lips had a different agenda. The pizza was her peace offering.
Lucky and Mushu had been fed and were romping in the backyard. She was setting paper plates next to the pizza box when Gage and Grandpa came in.
Gage eyed the pizza box and threw open the lid. “You’re my hero.” Then he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, took a slice and bit into it without bothering with a plate. His hip rested against the counter.
He always made things so easy. Her tension eased. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I was afraid you’d bake that cardboard lasagna I saw in the freezer,” Grandpa said, taking a slice and resting a hand on the back of a chair.
Why fight a trend? Shelby followed suit and ate standing up. “Would you rather I made something from scratch?”
They heartily reassured her they wouldn’t. If she didn’t own up to being a bad cook on a daily basis, she might have been offended.
Gage reached for another piece. He had a couple of thin, deep scratches on his hand.
“Where’d you get those?” she asked.
“Hazard of the job, hotshot,” Grandpa said when Gage didn’t answer. “Hazard of the job.”
Gage studied his pizza. “How’re those kittens?”
Shelby set her partially eaten pizza on a plate and poured a glass of milk for each of them. “Thankfully, Felix had some flea powder and dewormer.”
“We need to stock our cabinets at the clinic,” Grandpa said.
“I suppose you’re going to adopt them, too? I bet they have names already.” There was a glint in Gage’s eye that made Shelby jittery. “Quite the family you’re building here.”
The irony wasn’t lost on Shelby. She was creating a four-legged family when most women her age were having babies. Shelby should have felt demoralized. Mae’s predictions were coming true sooner than expected. “I’m calling those two girls Sunny and Dusty. I’ll expect a family discount when it comes time to neuter them.”
The energy seemed to drain out of him. “You’ll have to go to the clinic in Cloverdale. I haven’t put enough hours in on small animal procedures.”
“I could renew my license,” Grandpa offered. “We could work together.”
“Gage is leaving to work with racehorses, Grandpa. It’s what he loves.” Shelby was happy for Gage. Really, she was. That empty feeling inside her chest was just the fatigue of harvest season. Too many days started before dawn so she could be home to cook her grandfather—and Gage—dinner. “You can’t make him give up what he loves.”
“Don’t say that,” Grandpa muttered. “You two bail too quickly on everything.”
“Meddler,” Gage said.
“Procrastinator,” Grandpa shot back. “Why can’t you just—”
“I’ll pack.” Gage’s pronouncement had Grandpa pressing his lips tightly together. “I promised to review your paper tonight. I won’t do that if you meddle.”
Grandpa made a frustrated noise. “Nobody likes a blackmailer.”
Shelby was intrigued and amused. “Should I be concerned about the subtext of this conversation?”
“No,” Gage said.
“Yes.” Grandpa’s gaze turned speculatively toward Shelby. “Good things never come to those who wait.”
“What are we waiting for?” Shelby asked.
But neither man answered her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I’M GLAD YOU support my hypothesis about equine musculature recovery post delivery.” Doc sat at a small desk in the master bedroom.
A brown log cabin quilt covered the bed. Dirty clothes covered the floor, except for a narrow trail, much like that in the living room. The room smelled stale. Gage had opened the window over the desk while Doc’s ancient computer booted up.
The old man had offered to show Gage his notes, but they were in a stack in the living room and Shelby had freaked out when Doc wanted to lead Gage into the maze that he called a library. While they talked shop, Shelby had taken the dogs for a walk.
“If I could just collect more data,” Doc was saying. “From someone respected in the equine community.”
Gage glanced up from the printed draft of the article Dr. Wentworth had written, feeling the first click of a hidden trap.
“Do you keep records from your deliveries?” The old man drew circles on his screen with the mouse, ever so careful not to look at him.
“I don’t keep records like this.” Gage shook his head. “At this stage in my career, I’m more interested in the practical aspects of my specialty.”
“Could you keep records like this?” Doc’s voice rasped with urgency.
And there it was. The jaws of Doc’s trap snapped closed, with almost no wiggle room. “Could I send you data via email from Kentucky?”
“I prefer paper record keeping.”
“Meaning you don’t have email.”
“What’s wrong with the postal service?” Doc shot Gage a cagy look beneath a lock of unkempt white hair. “Of course, if we shared an office and a file cabinet and—”
“No.” A rush of frustration stiffened his shoulders. If Gage could have been in two places at once, he’d do it. But the events of the day proved he had to make a choice. “We’ll be pen pals.”
“At least I’ll have enough data come summer.” Dr. Wentworth sat back, sending his computer chair creaking.
Gage dropped the article on the desk. “Why are you doing this? At your age, you don’t need to work this hard.”
Doc snorted. “When you retire, the brain doesn’t shut down. I still need a challenge.”
“You could lecture. Travel the world.” Although with his mobility issues, that probably wasn’t wise.
“But I wouldn’t feel relevant.” In the light of the computer monitor, Doc’s skin appeared sallow. He looked less the old ornery vet, and more...just plain old. “I know it’s hard for a rising star like you to understand, but I want to feel...not so much important as—”
“Valued.” Gage knew exactly what
he meant.
“Precisely.” Doc slapped his thigh. “It’s not just the mental challenge or the boredom, but the fact that your opinion counts for something. That sounds a bit egotistical, doesn’t it?”
“I understand.” More than the good doctor realized.
“I guess someone needs to do a load of laundry.” Shelby stood in the doorway, tapping her foot, having come back from her walk.
“I’ll get to it,” Doc grumped. “My house, my rules.”
Shelby made a frustrated noise that Gage completely related to. “I’m going over to the bridal shop to finish cleaning things out before the demo team shows up tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll come with you.” Even though Gage wasn’t staying, they had unfinished business between them.
* * *
THE SUN WAS setting as they walked across town. Every so often, Gage’s gaze collided with hers.
I wish, his eyes seemed to say. Was that what she really saw, or was that what she wanted to see? She couldn’t deny the sense of longing that grew stronger with each step she took. Until she practically stumbled over Lucky.
“I told you the leash was a bad idea.” Shelby focused on the asphalt beneath her clumsy feet. “He’s a free spirit.”
“And that’s why he’s a stray.” She felt the smile in his words, the warm sensation reached all the way down to her toes.
“He’s not a stray. He’s mine.”
“It hasn’t been a week, Shel.”
“He feels like mine.” She patted Lucky’s back. “There’s a distinctive smell to his fur. I can’t resist the soulful look in his eyes. And he knows me, too. He can tell when I’m nervous or upset.”
“I can do that.”
“But you’re leaving.” They turned a corner and the wind whipped against them.
“Yes,” Gage said. “And we’ll still be friends.”
“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.” They approached the town square. In the center was a huge oak tree. Beneath it was a wrought iron bench. It was the location of decades’ worth of marriage proposals, including her own. “I was always Nick’s princess, not his friend.” She hadn’t realized it was true until she’d spoken the words.
Gage didn’t refute her, which meant he’d known it to be true. “Does that bother you?”
“I loved him. Of course it bothers me, just like you being jealous of his always being the leader bothered you.” She wrapped her arms around herself and walked faster. But there was no walking away from the truth. “I thought Nick and I would have time to grow beyond that. But I feared—”
“It doesn’t matter if you were his princess. You were his everything. You two wouldn’t have divorced.” His certainty comforted her.
She reached for Gage’s hand. They continued in silence.
It was odd that Gage had let the conversation drop. And it kept dropping. Across the town square. Down Harrison. He hadn’t said another word even when she pulled the store key from her pocket.
Instead of opening the door, she faced him. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ve always known what you wanted, despite your fears and whatever obstacles were in your path.” He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “You’ve always pushed forward, whether it was moving here or marrying Nick. Why are you letting fear hold you back now?”
She could have asked what he thought fear stood in the way of, but she knew. “Can you blame me?”
“Yes.”
The air left her lungs in a rush.
He didn’t stop to let her catch her breath. “You say you were afraid Nick would never take you off a pedestal. It didn’t stop you from not only dating him, but marrying him.”
“You’re comparing apples to oranges. Overwhelming heartbreak doesn’t come close to the princess treatment.”
“I think you need to listen to Mae. I’m all for a black shirt when things are going to get dirty. But every day?”
“Oh, do go on.” She crossed her arms.
“Fears, Shel. You kiss me like I mean something to you and then you run away.”
Shelby opened her mouth to refute him, but shut it again.
“Fears,” he said again. This time the bitterness in the word was so sharp she could almost taste it on her tongue. “You’re willing to invest more in a dog or a pair of orphaned kittens than in...” At her raised eyebrow, he conceded. “All right. I’ll say it. You’re willing to invest in animals more than you are in me.” And then he added on a softer note, “Or in love.”
“This has nothing to do with you.” When had she become such a liar? “I don’t want to love a man who might die before his time. You practically paint a target on yourself every time you step into that birthing stall.”
Lucky crouched low, resting his massive head between his massive paws.
Gage’s eyes blazed in the streetlight. “People get hit by cars. They choke on chicken bones. They get shot out of the sky in passenger planes. How can anybody be safe?”
“No one can,” Shelby said, not recognizing her own voice it sounded so small.
“That’s right. Nobody can.” Gage edged closer, cupping her face in his hands. He was going to kiss her again.
Such a wonderfully bad idea.
They shouldn’t kiss in the middle of a fight. They shouldn’t kiss at all.
She waited for his lips to connect with hers.
She waited and waited.
“Someday, Shelby, when I’m long gone to Kentucky, you’ll understand that love isn’t risky. Love is safe. Love is what gets you out of bed in the morning. It’s what keeps you going on the bad days.” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Love is—”
“Shut up and kiss me already.” She tugged his head to hers, disregarding the fear in her heart.
One brief touch of his lips to hers, and then he trailed kisses along her jawline. “Stop thinking, Shel. Please, stop thinking.”
“Two people with our IQs? That’s an impossibility.”
He silenced her with a kiss that brooked no argument, bringing her tightly against him as if they were on a crowded street corner.
Except they weren’t on a crowded street corner.
This was Harmony Valley. And many of the town’s residents were already tucked in for the night.
Her hand drifted beneath his jacket, beneath his T-shirt until she touched the smooth skin of his chest.
She’d missed having someone to confide in. She’d missed being held. She’d missed kissing.
“Can I help you two find a room?” Sheriff Nate exited his office.
Shelby fell back against the door frame of the bridal shop. “We were just...just...”
“He knows what we were doing, Shel,” Gage said quietly.
“Well, I don’t.” Her heart clambered as if trying to get out of her chest, as if trying to make her come to her senses and realize this kiss-littered path dead-ended long before Kentucky.
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE the volunteers were expected to arrive, it was standing room only beneath the propane heaters on the winery’s patio. Volunteers didn’t fill the seats. Harmony Valley’s elderly residents did.
There was no wind. The air was thick and humid. Gage maneuvered his way through walkers and wheelchairs to Doc’s side, doubting the harvest would go off as planned.
“This is ridiculous,” Doc grumbled. “None of the people who show up tonight will be the copper thief. Everyone’s told their kids and grandkids. No one is that stupid.”
“But that’s why everyone’s here, to solve the mystery.” Gage ran a hand through his hair. “Even you.”
“Dogs, all mighty. I’m here to make sure no one makes a fool of themselves.” Doc scanned the crowd. “Heaven help us if somebody’s grandchild pulls
up in a four door silver sedan and some idiot draws his gun.”
“I think the sheriff is more than capable of handling this crowd.” Gage nodded toward the local lawman.
Mae sat across from Doc, swaddled in a purple coat and matching scarf. “I’ve had enough of this tomfoolery.” She pushed herself to her feet and used her raspy outdoor voice. “This isn’t what Harmony Valley is about. We don’t show up to watch people fail. We gather to celebrate our successes.” She wobbled a little and gripped the edge of the table for support.
Shelby appeared behind her, slipping a hand to her waist for support. Gage stepped nearer the pair as Mae reached back to clasp Shelby’s hand.
Mae lifted her chin. “Would Flynn’s grandfather, Edwin, have sat here, waiting like a vulture for one of our own to show up? Would he have taken pleasure in knowing it was someone else’s grandchild, not his own?”
“No.” Flynn separated himself from the crowd. “He would have told everyone who wasn’t here to celebrate and support our harvest to go home. He would have told us to ask first why someone needed that copper before we threw them in jail.”
“Here, here,” Doc said.
Almost as one, the crowd’s gazes dropped to hands and tabletops.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Mae’s stare was hard. “If you’re not waiting for a child or grandchild, vamoose!” She looked up at Shelby. “I guess I need to go home, as well. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.” She sat back down.
“Bravo,” Shelby murmured as more than half the crowd heeded Mae’s command and made to leave. She glanced at Gage, absently reaching to smooth his cowlick.
He caught her hand. It had been a few days since they’d kissed. She tugged her hand, a token effort to free herself. Gage had to step closer to clear a path for Mildred and her walker. “You’re going to have to stop touching my hair.”
Her blue eyes widened. “Why?”
“Because it makes him want to kiss you.” Mae chuckled, and then coughed.
Shelby’s gaze drifted to Mae, then back to Gage, a wrinkle to her brow. “I’ve always done that.”
His thumb worked slow, gentle circles in her palm.
One Perfect Year Page 18
