by Liz Isaacson
“That’s great,” Gramps said. “To that Harlow fellow?”
“That’s right,” Karla said with a big smile at Gramps’s use of the word fellow. “They haven’t set a date yet, but you know how particular Lisa can be.”
Gramps had actually never met Karla’s younger sister—either of them. But she’d told him about her family back in Virginia, and he’d told her story after story from his childhood, his time here on the ranch raising his family, and dozens of other things.
Karla loved Gramps, and spending time with him and helping him made her feel less useless in the world. And less guilty about leaving her family when she married Jackson and they moved across the country to California.
After the divorce, Karla had embraced the shame and decided to stay out west. Her mother hadn’t quite understood, but Wendy, Karla’s other sister, had provided a sufficient distraction by getting engaged and then married.
That event had brought Karla home, and that had been enough for her mother. She tried to get to Virginia at least once each year, and she said, “Wendy just had a baby.”
“Yes, a boy, like Sawyer and Jeri.”
Karla kept her arm looped through Gramps’s as they stepped down the dirt road to her place. “Yep,” she said. “So I’ll probably go visit sometime soon. Maybe in the fall.” She was musing now, and she needed to check her calendar and decide on dates. Her mom would like that, and maybe she’d get to help with some of Lisa’s wedding prep.
“Here you go, Gramps,” she said, delivering him to the rocking chair on her front porch. The sun would stay out of his way until lunchtime, and then he’d go sit under the tents with everyone else. “I have to get back to work, okay? Yell if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, already rocking back and forth.
Karla gave him a smile, fondness moving through her. She wondered who would take care of her when she was old like Gramps, but she pushed the thought away. She couldn’t dwell on negative things. Not today.
She’d already texted everyone about lunch, and back inside her cabin, she got the two casserole pans out of the oven and put that last two in. Then she set to work on the final piece of the meal. Salad. It wasn’t hard to open all the bags and dump them in the huge metal bowl she’d brought with her from the city.
She chopped cucumbers, tossed in a couple of containers of grape tomatoes, opened three bags of croutons, and set four bottles of ranch dressing on the counter.
Pausing, she took stock of the meal. “Almost there,” she said, turning her attention to making the garlic butter for the bread.
Precisely when she said lunch would be served, lunch was served. The cowboys and ranch hands and volunteers came in shifts. She liked it, actually, because then she didn’t have to worry about long lines or nowhere to sit on the tables under the tent.
Today, she’d served three pans of pizza casserole—with all that ooey gooey cheese, sausage, pepperoni, and saucy penne pasta—before Cache showed up.
Her heart ba-bumped in her chest irregularly, and she tried to cover it with a smile. “Hey, there,” she said as he picked up a plate and bypassed the green stuff. She didn’t take it personally. Not a lot of the men went straight for the salad.
“Hey.” He smiled at her, his usual cheerful self back. He really did project sunshine from his soul, and Karla had always been drawn to his optimism and bright charm.
“In the stables this afternoon?” she asked. “Or over in the Canine Club?” She scooped a big spoonful of casserole onto his plate.
“Stables,” he said. “I’m on equipment duty.”
“Maybe I’ll come see Blade.” She looked up at him, hoping he heard more than that. Hoping she could tell him she’d love to go to dinner with him. Hoping she hadn’t messed up by simply staring at him the other morning.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll put him out in the corral. He’s been inside a lot lately.”
“Bad hip,” they said together, and Karla grinned at him. That sparking, wonderful moment lasted for a few seconds, and then two more cowboys arrived.
“Finer Diner this weekend,” Lance Longcomb said. “Right, Cache?”
Cache tore his gaze from Karla’s and looked at his band mates, Lance and Dave. “Right. Let’s make sure we remind Sawyer. I haven’t seen him around much.”
Dave picked up a plate and Karla scooped noodles and cheese and meat onto it. “Thank you, Karla.” He smiled at her too, nudging Cache to move already. Karla flicked one more glance at him and then focused on feeding the men who’d gotten in line.
Her moment with Cache was over, but she caught him watching her a couple of times while she continued to serve and he ate lunch with his friends. He didn’t stop by to say thank you or good-bye, and a twist of longing for him hit her.
She didn’t know what to do with it. She’d had enough emotional turmoil and pain from a broken, brutal relationship to last a lifetime.
She’d escaped that life, and she’d vowed never to go back.
Cache is not Jackson, she told herself as she started putting leftovers in disposable containers. She had ten of them, and she’d text a select group of cowboys who lived here on the ranch to come get what they wanted. Cache included.
She slipped one of the containers into her cabin, leaving only nine sitting in the shade. She texted the men, including Cache, about the leftovers, and then texted him separately.
I kept some food for you in my cabin.
Thanks! he texted back.
Karla stared at her phone. Maybe she could just ask him to dinner through this. He’d been brave and asked her right to her face. But she wasn’t as brave as him.
I’d love to go to dinner with you. She typed the words out and looked at them, making sure every letter was in the right place.
Before she could chicken out, she hit send.
And I’d love to know when you’re playing at Finer Diner. Maybe I could come watch.
If he didn’t know she was interested after those two texts, he really wasn’t as bright as she’d thought.
She’d splashed cold water on her face and scrubbed her hands and arms up to her elbows before her phone made a peep. Drying off quickly, she glanced at her device. But the screen darkened before she could read Cache’s response.
With still damp fingers and a trembling heart, Karla swiped open the conversation.
Let’s talk when you come to the stables. I’m here all afternoon.
“Hey, he didn’t say no,” Karla said to her empty cabin. “And he didn’t stare at you, dumbfounded either.”
She couldn’t believe she’d done that to him. But she couldn’t rewind time and fix it. Just like she couldn’t make the days go backward to rectify any of the mistakes she’d made in her marriage, and she couldn’t get back the precious few months she’d been pregnant.
Her heart wailed now, as Karla had opened a box she’d swore she’d never even think about again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but whether that was to Jackson, herself, or God, she wasn’t sure. She just knew she couldn’t keep living in this hollow shell. Something had to change. She could only hope the transformation wouldn’t be too painful.
“Please, Lord,” she whispered, but her faith had grown cold years ago and she couldn’t articulate much more than that. Her feeble attempt brought warmth to her soul, and she drew in a deep breath.
She’d done hard things before. She could talk to Cache Bryant and make sure he knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him.
Chapter 5
Cache took inventory of the equipment in the stables, weeding out any rope that wasn’t usable anymore. He cleaned up all the tools and made sure they were where they were supposed to be. He refilled the oats and feed, and had just moved onto tack when someone entered the building.
It could’ve been anyone, but he knew instantly it was Karla. His pulse skipped, but he kept his whistling going as if he didn’t know she’d really come to see him. Under the ruse of wanting to see Blad
e, of course. But Cache wasn’t dim, and he’d felt something between them at lunch.
He’d been feeling it for months. Surely she had too.
So he just needed to figure out what was going on with her. Then maybe he’d be able to sleep at night. Maybe he’d be able to think about something besides holding her hand. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
“Hey,” she said, and Cache jumped, a smile already crossing his face.
“Hey.” He held a saddle between them, because he noticed how nervous she looked.
“I’m really sorry,” she blurted. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to ask me to dinner the other day, and I sort of blanked.”
Cache appreciated the apology, but he knew there was more going on with her. He wanted to know what it was. Wanted to know everything about her. “It’s okay,” he said.
“I’d like to go to dinner with you.” She raised her chin a fraction of an inch, almost daring him to turn her down.
“I’d like that too,” he said, ducking his head as heat rushed into his face. “We’ve got band practice again on Friday, because we’re playing at the diner on Saturday.”
“I’ll come,” she said, stepping closer to him. She wore no makeup, and her hair fell over her shoulders in beautiful waves of ripened grain. “Cache, I—” She didn’t continue, and Cache wondered if he just needed to do what Scarlett had advised. Give her time to respond.
“There’s something going on with you,” he said. “I’m—I want to know what.”
She started nodding, her hands twisting together.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said gently. “It’s just me. Cache. We’ve been friends for ten months.”
She nodded and swallowed, but she still looked like he was a phantom she needed to banish in the next ten seconds.
“An old boyfriend?” he asked, and tears filled her eyes. Cache couldn’t have that. He set the saddle aside and drew Karla into his arms. Relief and wonder filled him, and he pressed his eyes closed at the feel of her body next to his. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Okay?”
She nodded against his chest, and her grip around him stayed tight and strong. So he just held her close, praying that she could find whatever relief she needed from this turmoil inside her.
He held her until she stepped back, and then he let her go. “I just—I swore I’d never have another man in my life.” She swiped at her face, but her eyes were still lovely and bright when she looked at him.
“I’m sorry for whatever happened,” he said, deciding to go with his own pathetic love life. “I grew up on that dairy farm in Nevada, right? Well, there weren’t a lot of girls out there, let me tell you.” He flashed her a smile and turned to find the saddle oil. He might as well work while they talked. Hudson wouldn’t like him using his daylight hours to flirt anyway.
“So there was this one girl I really liked. Her name was Lisa.”
“That’s my sister’s name,” Karla said.
Cache grinned. “So that’ll make this interesting. Anyway, I liked her a lot. Like, a lot-a lot. She had all this blonde hair, and these blue eyes, and she could ride a horse like no one I’d ever seen.” He was aware that he’d basically just described Karla, and maybe Cache had a weakness for blondes. He wasn’t sure.
“Anyway, I asked her to go to the fair with me, and we met there. Only she didn’t think we were there together. She thought I’d just asked if she’d be there. Turned out, she was sweet on my brother, and she spent the whole night with him.” Cache chuckled and shook his head. “I felt like such an idiot.” He moved the polishing rag around and around, getting all the creases in the leather.
“Did she and Leo last?”
“Nope,” Cache said. “Dated for a summer, and then she broke up with him.” Cache hung the saddle back on the wall and moved to the next one. “Honestly, Karla, I haven’t dated a whole lot in my life.” Embarrassment squirreled through him. “I’ve had maybe four or five women I’d call a girlfriend. Hardly anything serious.”
He swallowed and told himself to stop talking. He kept his head down and worked, hoping she’d say something now.
“I was married for five years.”
Cache whipped his attention to her, his eyes widening. He searched her face, trying to find out if the marriage was good, bad, ugly, or what. Had her husband died? Did she have kids? Why had he never seen them? Suspected this?
She fiddled with the end of some reins that were hanging on the wall. “His name was Jackson. We met in Virginia, fell in love, and got married. He got a job out here shortly after that, and we moved across the country.”
Cache couldn’t work and listen at the same time. Married. He tried to get over the shock of it. Karla was his age—thirty-nine. Of course she’d had time in her past life to get married.
“Things went bad after about the first year,” she said quietly. “He couldn’t hold a job, so I went to work. I mean, I was working anyway, but I started moving up in my firm.” She pressed her lips together into a thin, white line. “But, it didn’t work out. We had…too many problems. A lot of problems, and money was only one of them.” She smiled, but it was weak and pained, and Cache had the distinct impression to pull her right back into his arms and tell her everything was okay now.
“How long ago?” he asked.
She swiped at her eyes again and straightened her shoulders. “Five years,” she said. “He’s still in the state, somewhere.”
“No kids?”
Something flashed through her eyes, and she shook her head no. “I told myself I wouldn’t go through that again.”
Cache nodded, realizing she had a much more complicated past to navigate than he did. He couldn’t help seizing onto the fact that she and her first husband had had money problems. Cache himself didn’t have much in the way of money, and how could he ever provide for a woman like Karla? A family?
He tamped down the inadequate feelings. They hadn’t even gone to dinner yet. Maybe now they wouldn’t.
“Listen, we don’t—” He cut off when her hand touched his. Her fingers sneaked between his, sending warmth and light and fireworks through his whole system. He stared at their joined hands before lifting his eyes to hers.
“Maybe dinner on Monday night?” she whispered, and Cache saw the hope in her eyes. No, he didn’t know what the future held. But he could hope for a good one, couldn’t he?
“Dinner on Monday night,” he echoed.
Karla smiled, this time the gesture wasn’t full of pain from the past. “Great. Now, I really do want to see Blade.”
Cache fiddled with the strings on his guitar, knowing Lance would take it from him in a minute. He really should leave them alone, as they’d already tuned together. But Cache always had all this pent-up energy before a gig.
Not only that, he’d caught sight of Karla slipping through the door just a moment ago. Their eyes hadn’t met. She hadn’t come to the front, almost like she wanted to stay out of sight. Didn’t want anyone to see her.
His phone buzzed in his back pocket, and he reached for it.
Good luck! Karla had texted. You’ll be brilliant.
He smiled and shoved his phone in his pocket again as Lance took his guitar. “You’ve messed it all up,” he said, turning the tuning pegs and strumming. “I don’t know why you do this.”
“Because you’ll fix it for me,” Cache said, stepping over to the doorway to find the diner was packed. Dave didn’t seem to care at all as his fingers flew across the screen of his phone. Probably texting Sissy. They were a cute couple, and Cache had been surprised to learn that they’d dated and been engaged before.
It seemed like everyone around him was better than him. Further along in their lives, their career, the financial future than he was. Since talking to Karla, he’d decided that the Last Chance Cowboys needed more gigs. He’d always saved his band money—not that it was much—and maybe he could get a little nest egg going before he confes
sed to Karla that he basically lived hand-to-mouth and had nothing to offer her.
Helplessness filled him, and he really didn’t have time for it. On the tiny stage in the restaurant, the manager got behind the mic.
“Guitar,” he said, and Lance handed it back to him. “This is it, guys. We’re on in a minute.” As if they didn’t know. Couldn’t hear the manager introducing them.
Dave finally put his phone away and rolled his shoulders, about all he ever did to be ready for a gig. Sawyer grinned at Cache, who couldn’t help but feel the electricity and energy of the crowd.
That high would ride with him for days, and he loved how every performance was different based on the crowd.
“The Last Chance Cowboys,” the manager practically yelled, and Dave led the way out of the back room where they’d been warming up and getting ready to take the stage. Cache honestly didn’t mind not being the front guy. He was an excellent guitar player, and he knew it.
“Hey, everyone,” Dave said into the mic, already on his game. “We know you’re here to eat, but we hope you’ll enjoy the entertainment as well.” He looked around at everyone, getting a nod from Lance behind the drums, and they launched into their first song.
Cache saw the surprise on some of the patron’s faces. He’d eaten at Finer Diner lots of times since coming to Last Chance Ranch, and some of the entertainment was lackluster, to say the least.
As they played through their set of eight songs, people clapped along. A few got up to dance in the small space in front of the stage. Cache tried not to focus all of his attention on Karla, but she’d gotten a table way over in the corner, and she’d put a hat over her gorgeous, wavy hair.
She didn’t want to be seen there. He wondered what that was about, and he’d definitely be asking her later. But for right now, he just lived in the moment, playing guitar and singing backup with his band.
Chapter 6
Karla had heard Cache’s band play before. They were good. Really good. She couldn’t look at anyone but him, and he was completely in his element up there. So sexy in those jeans and cowboy boots, his guitar slung over those broad shoulders.
