The Mechanics of Mistletoe

by Liz Isaacson

  “Cactus?” he asked.

  “Looks good,” Cactus said. “Where will the men stay during the remodel?”

  “We’re putting them in the southwest cabins, out by the Ranch Cottage where Aunt Lois and Zona live,” Ward said. “There’s only three out there, but they’re in the best shape, and the cowboys can double-up for a couple of months.” He looked at Cactus. “I have it on our schedule to redo your cabin next year, Cactus.”

  He nodded. “I’m fine out there.”

  “I know,” Ward said, shooting a look at Bear. “But we rotate and make sure all of our buildings are in good repair and functional—as well as nice to live in.”

  Cactus nodded again, his mouth never curving up or down from its usual straight line. Bear felt like he’d swallowed a cactus, and its thorns were spreading through his whole body. He understood his brother on a deeper level now, and he wished he didn’t.

  “Okay,” Ward said. “That’s it.” He turned off the projector and closed his laptop. “Thanks for coming, everyone.”

  Cactus got up, and he and Ward left the office, chit-chatting about something. Bear finally heaved himself to a standing position, a sigh leaving his body. “I guess I’ll get back to the far fields.” He’d been working out there all week, as they were closest to the highway, and he’d be able to see if Sammy came to the ranch.

  “I wanted to talk to you for a second.” Ranger darted ahead of him and closed the office door. He turned back to Bear, nerves plain in his eyes. He held out his phone. “I need help with this.”

  “With what?” Bear took the phone, which Ranger already had open to a text conversation. “You’re talking to Oakley?” He looked up quickly, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He focused on the text string again without waiting for Ranger to answer.

  She’d messaged him a long time ago and asked him if he might be available for lunch. He’d only answered last week, and they’d gone back and forth a few times, until Bear saw they were supposed to meet that day.

  “Wow,” Bear said, extending the phone back to Ranger.

  He didn’t take it, though. “Is she flirting with me?”

  Bear looked at the messages again. Ranger had said, Sorry this took me so long to respond to. We’ve had a busy harvest season this year. I can come down to town one day in the next couple of weeks.

  Oh! Oakley had said. I’ll be out of town until the first. Maybe that week?

  Sure, Ranger said. Tell me when.

  For you, Ranger, anytime is fine. She’d added a smiley face to that, and Bear leaned closer to the phone for some reason.

  “Maybe?” he asked. “Maybe anytime was really fine with her.”

  “What about the next one?”

  But tell me when, so I can be ready.

  “Ready for what?” Bear read out loud, as that was his first question and one Ranger had asked.

  Just to see you. Smiley face.

  A full day had passed before Ranger had responded, and he’d said he could come any day this week. She’d suggested today, as Wednesdays were slower at the dealership, and he’d agreed.

  Great, she’d said. What’s your favorite restaurant?

  “What’s the meeting about?” Bear asked, looking up again. His cousin looked like he might puke, and he shrugged.

  “I asked down the thread a little, and she never said. She dodged the question. She probably just wants me to buy a whole fleet of trucks.” He sighed and took his phone back. “I’m sure she wasn’t flirting with me.”

  “It sounds like she actually was,” Bear said. “There was that one line about wearing her favorite shirt to see you.”

  Ranger practically threw his phone on the table and sat down. “We also need to talk about you.”

  “We do?”

  “Bear,” Ranger said, his voice even and kind. “You snapped at Jimmer yesterday.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Bear said. “And I apologized immediately.” He sat down too, because standing felt too hard.

  “Did you and Sammy break up?”

  “I don’t know,” Bear said, misery filling him from top to bottom and infusing his voice.

  “I’m sorry,” Ranger said. “You two seemed to get along so well. You’re perfect for each other.”

  Bear didn’t know what to say, because he happened to agree with Ranger. But it wasn’t solely up to him. “She thinks I ride in on my white stallion to save her from tough situations,” he admitted. “I was just trying to help.”

  Ranger nodded like he understood, but Bear didn’t see how that was possible. He didn’t understand why Sammy couldn’t accept his help. He wasn’t doing anything he didn’t want to do, and he didn’t intend to imply she couldn’t handle her life.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Ranger said. “To make it better. You were so happy with her. We hardly ever saw the grizzly, but now he’s back in full force.”

  “I’m trying,” Bear said, looking down. “I don’t know what to say or do either.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Ranger said. “Just like I’m going to figure out what Oakley really means with her texts.” He groaned as he stood. “Wish me luck. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.”

  “Good luck,” Bear said automatically. Ranger left the office, but Bear stayed. He hadn’t realized how far ahead he’d been thinking, but he did now. He’d been thinking diamonds and bassinets. He and Bishop would switch suites in the homestead, and Bear would finally have the wife and family he’d wanted for years now.

  He took off his cowboy hat and tossed it on the table in front of him. Running his hands through his hair, he asked, “What should I do, Lord?”

  Maybe try again.

  The thought entered his mind, but he knew it belonged to him. He’d been thinking it for a few days now. After his first, bad date with Sammy, he’d tried again. They’d tried again.

  If she’d say yes, he’d try again.

  He just needed her to say yes. With a heart heavy with hope, he tapped out a quick message to her. Wondering if you have time for lunch one day in the next couple of weeks. I miss you and Lincoln, and I’d love to see you.

  Now all he had to do was wait for her to answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ranger sat in his truck for an extra ten minutes before he finally went inside the dealership. No one had come out to greet him, which was a little odd. It was unusually quiet around the showroom today, but he wasn’t really sure if that was normal or not. He glanced around and caught the eye of one of the salesmen.

  He smiled and came toward him. “Ranger,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Heath Monroe. What can I help you with?”

  “I’m, uh, supposed to be meeting with Oakley today?” Why he’d phrased it like a question, he wasn’t sure.

  “Oh, you’re her lunch date.” He smiled. “Let me take you back.”

  Ranger’s lungs vibrated with the word date. Was this a date? In no book Ranger had ever owned, nor would ever own, was this a date. If he was going on a date with a woman, he picked her up at her house like a proper Texas gentleman.

  He followed Heath down a hall that led further into the building. Everything was sterile, with white walls and wooden doors. “She’s in here.” Heath opened a door and said, “Oakley, your lunch appointment is here.”

  Appointment Ranger understood, and he stepped inside the small conference room, where Oakley was just getting to her feet.

  “Thanks, Heath.” She wore a beautiful smile, complete with bright red lips she’d painted on.

  Ranger’s pulse went crazy, and he had to tell himself to take the few steps to greet her.

  “Hello, Ranger,” she said, shaking his hand. She eyed the door until it closed, and then she visibly relaxed. “I got the brisket and the sweet-with-heat sauce from Down Under. I heard you liked that place.”

  “You heard?” he asked, taking in the foil containers on the table.

  She picked up a paper plate and handed it to him. “You never said, so I
asked around.”

  “You asked who?” he asked, drinking her in while she plucked another paper plate from the stack. She wore a black pencil skirt that flared with her hips, making him swallow. He probably stood about eight inches taller than her, but she intimidated him in a way no other woman had before.

  She’d curled her dark hair, and it hung in loose waves over her shoulders, covering part of the yellow blouse she wore. She was classy and sophisticated, and everything Ranger really wanted in his life.

  “Your brother.” Oakley grinned and lifted the top of the first pan. “Mashed potatoes—loaded with bacon and cheese. Ward said you have a real weakness for bacon.” She laughed lightly, and if she wasn’t flirting with him, the Lord could strike Ranger dead.

  He didn’t, and Ranger just stared while she uncovered the beef brisket and a whole quart of the sweet-with-heat sauce that he could literally drink for breakfast.

  “Eat,” she said. “I said this meeting came with lunch.”

  “What is this meeting about?” Ranger asked, trying to decide if his mouth was watering because of the food or the woman.

  “Oh, you know,” Oakley said, but Ranger did not know. He took the mashed potatoes he loved, and as much brisket as he dared without looking like a hog. He covered the meat in the sauce he loved and sat down next to Oakley.

  “I don’t really know,” he said, glancing at her.

  “I just wanted to see you,” she said, looking right into his eyes.

  Ranger froze, not sure how to answer. His heart beat with a strong rhythm, telling him this was exactly what he’d wanted to hear from her. His mind couldn’t quite believe that she’d said it though.

  “You did?” He cleared his throat and ducked his head, something swirling inside him he didn’t quite recognize.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Am I just your lunch date?” he asked, lifting his eyes to hers. He took his first bite of brisket, his taste buds rejoicing, but his heart withering with what he was about to do. “Because I’m not super interested in that.”

  Surprise lit her eyes, and Ranger imagined Oakley didn’t have a lot of men telling her no. “In what?”

  Ranger finished chewing, wondering if he was going to have to abandon this delicious food. You can, he told himself. In fact, you should get up and walk out now.

  “I thought you wanted to sell me some trucks,” he said. “I need two of ‘em.”

  “I can do that too,” she said. She took a microscopic bite of mashed potatoes.

  “Too?” Ranger didn’t want to eat anymore. His stomach rioted against him, and he could drive through at Down Under and get all of this again. “Oakley, I’m not sure what’s going on here.”

  Oakley put down her fork. “It’s not that hard to understand, Ranger. I wanted to see you, so I invited you to come have lunch with me.”

  “You said you wanted to talk to me about something,” he said. “Lunch was just part of that.”

  “Right,” she said, smiling. “I wanted to talk to you about going to the Harvest Festival with me, but it’s over now. I’m not sure what I want to talk to you about now. Maybe another lunch?”

  “Why?” Ranger asked, though he wasn’t fishing for compliments. “Because you’re already busy for dinner with another boyfriend?”

  Shock crossed her face, and her mouth dropped open.

  Ranger saw the answer in her face. “Are you seeing someone else?” he asked.

  Oakley closed her mouth and looked at her food. She didn’t take another bite either.

  “For dinner?” he pressed. “Who is it?”

  “Yes,” she said, refusing to look at him.

  “Then I’m not interested in another lunch,” he said, reaching up to adjust his cowboy hat. “Thanks for the lunch, Oakley. I’ll talk to Heath about the trucks.” He started for the door, foolishness and determination coiling together inside him. The two emotions had never played together before, and Ranger wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw up or congratulate himself.

  “You didn’t even eat,” she called after him.

  “Does this other guy know you’re eating lunch with me?” He turned back, his hand on the doorknob. “And that it’s not just friendly?”

  Oakley stood up, her chin lifted and defiance in her eyes. “He knows we’re not exclusive.”

  “At least you’re honest.”

  “Of course I am.” She came toward him, hesitating the closer she got. She stopped a couple of feet away and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you saying you’re not interested unless we date exclusively?”

  “Yes, Oakley. I don’t want to constantly be thinking if I’m good enough for you. I already know I’m not. Knowing that you’re eating lunch with me and then dinner with someone else will only exacerbate that.” He took a step closer to her, and she smelled absolutely amazing. He’d probably hate himself in ten minutes and come back and tell her he’d do whatever she wanted him to do.

  He took a chance and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Besides, if we started dating, Oakley, I’d want to see you all the time. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Call me selfish, but I’m not willing to share the woman I go out with.”

  Oakley searched his face, her eyes wide.

  “Sorry,” Ranger said, backing up. His fingers scrambled for the doorknob, finally latching onto it. He had to get out of this room immediately, or he might kiss Oakley and tell her to forget everything he’d just said. “When I’m ready to buy the trucks, I’ll come see you. I know you want the commission.”

  He opened the door and walked out, his legs made of wood and his heartbeat sprinting through his whole body.

  “Ranger,” she called behind him, and Ranger drew in a deep breath as his steps slowed. Why wouldn’t she just let him leave? He’d already made a fool of himself in the ten minutes he’d been here.

  He turned back to face her, because he was forty years old, and he could be mature in this situation. She walked toward him, her heeled shoes making clicking noises against the tile in the hall. “I’m just trying to get to know people,” she said, her voice a shade angry. “How else am I supposed to do that if I don’t go out with a lot of men?” She arrived in front of him and put her hands on her hips, cocking one out in a sexy stance that nearly had Ranger agreeing with her.

  Instead, he shook his head. “One at a time, Oakley, like everyone else.” He turned and walked away—again—praying with everything inside him that she’d let him go this time.

  Help me to get all the way back to the ranch too. Don’t let me turn back and come crawling back to this woman.

  Please, Lord.

  He made it outside and all the way to his truck without encountering anyone. He turned the radio up loud as he headed out of town, and that made it hard to think. Without being able to fixate on Oakley and what had just happened at the dealership, he made it back to Shiloh Ridge without turning back.

  He went all the way to the stables and parked, getting out as a measure of darkness filled his soul. He pushed open the door too hard, actually encouraged by the slamming of it into the wall behind it. Ranger suddenly understood the origin of the grizzly bear inside his cousin, and he wondered what animal the salty, angry part of himself was.

  His phone chimed, and he rolled his eyes. “If that’s Oakley, I’m blocking her,” he vowed. “Dear Lord, don’t let it be Oakley.” He didn’t want to block her. He didn’t want to walk away from her. He wanted to go out with her—desperately—but he wanted to be the only one dating her.

  Bear’s name sat on the screen, thankfully, and he’d texted the entire sibling group. We’re decorating Grandmother’s tree tonight at the homestead. All are welcome. Bishop is having pizza and salad delivered from Tuscany’s, so come hungry. Should be there around 6:30.

  Others started responding that they’d be there, and Ranger added his Sounds good, and shoved his phone in his pocket. With everyone at the homestead tonight, Bear and Ward wouldn’t be able to ask how things had g
one at the dealership.

  Ward, he thought, and his anger flared. He had some choice words for his brother, but he thought he better calm down a little before he decided to say them. In the end, Ranger knew he wouldn’t say them at all. Ward had meant well, because he knew Ranger liked Oakley.

  “That’s the worst part of this,” he muttered to himself. If he didn’t like her, the whole thing would’ve been so much easier.

  Fear flowed through him as a horrible thought occurred to him. Had he blown his chance with her already?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sammy couldn’t get Bear’s text out of her head. I miss you and Lincoln and I’d love to see you.

  She peered up into the engine of a truck, not sure what she was looking for. She told herself to focus, because she’d already messed up once since receiving that text, and she’d had to ask Jason to call the customer and say they needed another day on his car.

  She hated not being able to deliver what she’d promised, and she blinked, trying to remember what she was doing down here. Oil change. Timing belt issues.

  Blinking again, she got to work on the oil, using her fingers to get the stopper out and get the oil draining. Pitch-dark liquid came sliding out of the reservoir, and Sammy loved the sight of it. This was incredibly dirty, though, and she’d have to tell Lizzie not to let so much time go between changes again.

  Her whole engine could seize, especially in a truck this old. Lizzie probably thought as long as she kept topping off the oil with fresh stuff, she didn’t need to actually change what was in the tank. She’d be wrong.

  “Every three thousand miles,” Sammy muttered. “And for this truck, probably every two thousand.”

  With that draining, she slid over a couple of inches to find the timing belt. She loved old engines, because she could find individual parts easily. They weren’t all boxed up or electronic, and she found the timing belt and started rotating it.