by Sonya Weiss
She tapped his wrist, eyeing him like he was deranged. “I’m going to need my hand to eat with.”
“Sure.” He let go. “By the way, why didn’t you want to sit next to Chris?”
“Because I saw the look he gave you. One of those I win kind. I figured it had something to do with me. I wanted to send a message that I wasn’t interested.”
“He’s not a bad guy, and he’s one of those settle-down types. In case you change your mind about being interested.”
She scrunched her face. “I don’t need you to fix me up with a man. I have your grandmother for that.”
He laughed. “Sorry about that.”
“Eh, she only does it because she knows I want to get married and have a family. I just need to convince her that I’m not desperate enough to want the dating king.”
“Ouch. And where’d you hear that nickname?”
“It’s all over Morganville. And don’t worry. Spending time with me to help improve the show won’t be what dethrones you. You have my solemn vow I won’t date you even when you beg.”
“When I—”
“My food’s getting cold.” She grinned and turned to leave.
“Hey.”
She stopped, still grinning.
“You look amazing in that dress.”
Her smile faded, and soft pink flushed her cheeks. “Thanks.”
He nodded and forced himself to turn around and walk away, hoping that spending time with her wasn’t going to turn out to be a colossal mistake.
…
Later that evening, Rafferty borrowed Kent’s truck to take a load of lumber to Albert’s to help the old man replace his worn-out porch. When he finished securing the pile of wood, he slammed the tailgate and tossed his gloves into the front seat. He planned to put the wood in Albert’s garage tonight so as soon as the weekend hit he could get over there early and get started.
After double-checking the burn drill information, he started to text Harper about it then decided he’d stop by her house instead. It was on the way to Albert’s, so he might as well take care of two things at once. He was simply being efficient.
It didn’t have anything to do with wanting to see Harper or not being able to get her off his mind since dinner.
The drive to the two-story white farmhouse where she lived didn’t take long. Back when he was in high school, her mom had hired him to give the faded shutters a new coat of black paint, and it looked like they needed to be redone. The long wrap-around porch had ferns hanging along the front in between the columns now instead of the flower baskets that hung there when her grandparents owned the place.
Every time he saw the house, he was always reminded of hot summer days eating watermelon in the backyard when it used to belong to the older couple. To help them out, he’d started mowing grass for the family after her grandfather got sick.
With Harper and her mother running themselves ragged for the castle, he hadn’t wanted them to have one more thing to take care of. Shaking off the memory, Rafferty parked the truck, and as soon as he got out and walked around the hood, the screen door swung open.
Harper stepped out onto the porch in a red tank top and a pair of cut-off jean shorts over legs that were tanned and miles long. Her hair hung free and wet around her shoulders like she’d just come from the shower. She frowned at him.
He could have sworn standing right where he was with the smell of gardenias on the air and the sky painted in hues of pinks and purples, it was the most important thing in the world that he make her smile.
Rafferty removed his ball cap, feeling the need to have something in his hands. “Wanted to bring you the time and address for the burn drill.”
Her frown cleared. “Oh.” She patted her pockets. “I don’t have anything to write on…just come inside.”
He stomped the dirt from his shoes on the gnome welcome mat and walked into the living room, waiting while she grabbed a pen and a notepad to jot down the address.
When she was done, she asked, “You want some lemonade? It’s nice outside. We can sit on the porch.”
“Sure. Do you need help making it?”
“No, it’s already made.” She shook her head. “You go on. I’ll be right there.”
Rafferty walked outside and sat on the top porch step, breathing in the flower-scented air, wondering why the hell he’d come up with the being efficient excuse he’d given himself. Such a flimsy reason had all the makings of complicated, and he didn’t do complicated.
A few minutes later, Harper joined him, sitting close enough that their arms brushed. His heart thundered, and he felt like he’d fallen into an alternate universe. He’d thought he was an expert on how it went down between him and a woman. Some light flirting, mutual attraction, and everyone ended up happy. What he knew about women was blown to hell every time he was around Harper, and he felt like he was left scrambling for answers.
He took a sip of lemonade, hoping to corral his thoughts. It didn’t help. He wondered what she was thinking. If anything was bothering her. He put his ball cap back on then took it off. He hadn’t been this out of sorts around a girl since elementary school.
“The lightning bugs are out early this year,” Harper said, watching the insects light and ascend upward.
“It’s the humidity we’re having. They don’t normally come out until June.” Rafferty heard himself babbling on about the bugs and wanted to give himself a swift kick. Like she was interested in the fact that the male bugs flashed their light to attract the females.
“The quiet is one of the things I love about living here.” Harper inhaled deeply and set the glass of lemonade beside her on the porch. She leaned back on her elbows. “You can hear the sound of crickets and all the night life rather than traffic.”
“That’s because the town rolls the sidewalks up at nine every night,” he joked.
Harper laughed. “Mama always said nothing good ever happened late at night anyway.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. The lookout spot on the hill over the lake is nice. You can see clear across the whole town.”
“I know. Shelly and I snuck out when we were teens to meet some boys up there. They didn’t show.”
“Stupid boys,” Rafferty said.
“Shelly and I ended up skinny dipping.”
“Really stupid boys.”
She sat up and bumped her shoulder against his. “Mama caught us because Nellie Simpson ratted us out. I was grounded for a week.”
“I never pegged you for the skinny-dipping type.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me…because I never shared them,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Like when I was a teenager, I kind of went wild for a little while, and it scared me knowing I have the same kind of wild streak that my father had. I used to go over to a friend’s house and stay out into the wee hours of the morning then come sneaking back in my bedroom window.”
“I can’t imagine that went over well.”
“It didn’t. I was doing crazy things like jumping off the bridge over Bolton River just to see if I’d miss the rocks below. I started smarting off to Mom and ignoring her rules. That’s why I got shipped off to stay with my other grandparents one summer.” She sipped her lemonade. “I guess I was lashing out, trying to figure out how to handle all those teenage hormones and the hurt I carried from my father abandoning us and all my other losses.”
“Other losses?” he asked, wanting to know the hurts she carried.
“I told you about that. Losing the family home and having to give up my horse. I was a mess for a while.”
“I’m sorry about all of that.”
She shrugged. “I got over it.”
He could tell better than that. “Losing someone you love isn’t really a thing you just get over. That kind of heartache is something you adjust to liv
ing with, and because time passes, you think it doesn’t have any sharp edges left. Then one day, it goes and cuts you up inside again.”
“Wow. That sounds extremely wise.” She grinned at him then sobered, her gaze searching his face intently as she asked, “Or is that the voice of your experience speaking?”
“Maybe a mixture of both,” he said, pushing the memories back into the recesses of his heart.
“Hmm,” she said, still looking a little too hard at him.
“What happened to make you walk the straight and narrow like you do now?”
Harper sighed, her expression regretful. “My mama said she was worried to death about me, afraid she was going to lose me like she did my father. Then she cried like there was no tomorrow. I pulled myself together, dumped the wrong crowd I’d been running with, got on the honor roll in school, and became the good girl Mama had always hoped I’d be.”
“Harper Bailey as the good girl I’d believe.”
She laughed and scooted one of her flip-flop-clad feet against the porch step. “After graduation, I buried myself in college, finishing four years in three. Now I bury myself in work, and that’s my life.”
“All work and no play?”
“Pretty much.” She swatted at a mosquito trying to land on her leg, and he caught a whiff of something citrusy when her hair shifted. “I guess I’m afraid that deep down if I don’t stay busy and in control, I’ll screw my life up again. I am my father’s daughter.”
“I can’t picture you ever running away from responsibilities or being selfish enough to abandon the people you love.”
“No, I guess not.”
“But you know what they say about all work and no play?”
“So you think I’m dull?”
“No, but I think I got here in the nick of time to prevent that from being your fate.” He rose, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”
She looked at his hand then swept her eyes up to his face. “Rafferty…”
“Forget work and forget control for a few hours. Show me the Harper who went skinny dipping. She’s still in there. Let her out.” He didn’t think she was going to agree, but then she put her hand in his, and he pulled her to her feet.
“Where are we going?”
“Horseback riding. Albert Hollings has some horses he’s always said I was welcome to ride any time.”
“Are you serious? I haven’t been on a horse since—”
“Since all that stuff happened in your life.”
“I don’t know…” She looked over her shoulder toward her front door.
He could just imagine she was thinking of a dozen reasons why she should stick to the familiar. “C’mon, Harper, a little bit of wild every now and then is good for you.”
She bit her lip. “You know what? I will. Give me a second,” she said and hurried inside her house. She was back a few minutes later with a pair of sneakers. She locked the door and pocketed the key. “I’m sure your idea of wild is a whole lot different than mine.”
“Just trust me.” He opened the truck’s passenger door and held it open for her. “I promise I’ll bring you back safe and sound. Would this Prince Charming lead his Cinderella down the wrong path?”
Chapter Ten
His Cinderella. It was a slip of the tongue, and she knew that, but it didn’t stop the strange thrill that shot through her. A thrill she didn’t need to be having. Sitting in the passenger seat beside him, the wind blowing her hair in disarray through the open windows, a country song about a sweet love blaring from the speakers, Harper had to admit this was better than being at home writing out her to-do lists for tomorrow.
Maybe Ivy was right. If there was awkwardness between her and Rafferty, then being in his company was the best way to fix that. Or it could make things more awkward if she developed a thing for him. Wait…develop a thing for him…is that even possible given that we want vastly different things in life?
She sneaked a glance at Rafferty’s profile. A week ago, if anyone would have told her she was going to be out with Rafferty like this, she would have laughed in their faces. She was still dwelling on the changes in her life since he’d come back into the picture when he turned the truck down the long dirt road leading to Albert’s house. She rolled the window up to keep from breathing in the dust as they bumped along.
“I offered to pave this for him, but he turned me down.”
“He’s as stubborn as you are,” Harper said.
Rafferty parked in the driveway. “Pot, kettle.”
“I’m not stubborn. I just know what I want.” Harper got out and walked with him up the steps and onto the porch.
Rafferty grabbed her around the waist, pulling her solidly against him, halting her progress. “Hold up. There’s a hole in a board there. I’m going to fix that for him.”
Harper’s mouth felt full of cotton as he let her go. She skirted the weakened board, her body screaming with awareness at the effect of his touch.
Rafferty knocked, and the porch light clicked on, followed by Albert opening the door. His overalls were grass stained, and he had a red and white checkered napkin tucked into the bib. His face lit up with a smile, and he pushed the screen door open.
“Y’all come on in.” He backed away. “Harper. You’ve grown so much. I remember when you were knee high to a grasshopper. Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”
“I’ve been busy at the castle.”
He bobbed his head. “I heard your momma took a break. Good for her. I was just sitting down to a slice of peach cobbler. I’d offer you both some, but I don’t want to share.”
Harper laughed. Albert had always been bluntly honest.
“I was hoping to take Harper horseback riding,” Rafferty said.
Albert’s bushy white eyebrows rose, then he grinned. “Well, now…I remember those days. That’s how I courted my Annie. Neither one of us had a lick of money, so we were always horseback riding somewhere with a picnic basket.”
Harper quickly clarified. “This isn’t… We’re not dating.”
Albert looked at the grandfather clock standing in the corner of the living room. “Only one reason a man takes a gal horseback riding this time in the evening and that’s if he’s sweet on her.”
Harper gave Rafferty a say something look.
“We work together, Albert. That’s all.”
He snorted and shuffled his way to a small closet by the door. “It’s not polite to lie to your elders, son.” He took out a flashlight and handed it to Harper. “Mind your step walking out to the barn. Leave the flashlight in there when you’re through. I’ll get it in the morning.”
“Thanks, Albert,” Rafferty said. “Watch that board,” he reminded Harper as they walked back outside. “Sorry about that in there. Albert’s been after me for the last few months to find a girl and settle down.”
“A heads up would have been nice,” Harper said.
Rafferty gave her a puzzled look as they trekked to the barn. “If I would have known you were courting me, I would have worn my best dress and my mama’s pearls.”
Rafferty laughed. “The day I decide to get serious, there wouldn’t be any doubt about it.” His laughter faded. “Not that the day will ever come. You know what I mean.”
“Deep breath, Rafferty. I didn’t think you meant you were ready to elope.”
Rafferty slid open the barn doors and walked in.
Harper aimed the flashlight at the ground to keep from spooking the horses until Rafferty turned the lights on. She shut off the flashlight and glanced up at the hayloft, admiring the craftsmanship. “Nice work on the windows. Who did that part?”
“Grayson put in the windows, and Lincoln built the balcony you saw as we walked up. The rest of the hard work was all me.”
Harper laughed. “Of course it was. Building Albert a barn was a k
ind thing for you and your brothers to do.”
“Wasn’t a big deal,” Rafferty downplayed his good deed. “His old one was falling apart, and he’s not able to get around like he used to.”
“I’m guessing the three of you supplied the lumber in addition to the labor.”
“Some of the other guys at the station chipped in.”
“Probably because you suggested it.” Harper set aside the flashlight and moved to get a halter. “That’s another reason I love living here. The people take care of each other.”
Rafferty picked up the other lead rope and unclipped the latch on one of the stalls. “That includes you, you know. When you need something, all you have to do is let someone know.” He paused and looked at her. “Let me know and I’ll be there for you.”
“Um…thanks.” Harper didn’t know how to take the emphasis he put on his words. Like he cared and maybe in a way he did. It could be that was part of his charm. She swung open a stall door and walked slowly toward a brown mare, careful to avoid the butt end of the horse. Speaking in soft, soothing tones, she let the mare sniff her hand then gently patted the side of the animal’s neck before she slipped the lead rope over the animal’s head.
“What’s her name?” she asked as the horse put her nose through the halter as if eager to go.
“The one you’re leading is Bally.” He pointed to the horse’s legs. “Albert calls her that because he thought the white on her forelegs looked like ballerina slippers.”
“She’s beautiful,” Harper said as she put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself up. She sat in the saddle for a few seconds, letting the memories of riding her childhood horse, Butterscotch, wash over her. Bareback riding across grassy fields, the wind in her hair and freedom stretching out before her as long as there was daylight. Every night that she could get away with it, she’d crept out of her bedroom and into the barn, spreading a blanket outside her mare’s stall. Looking up at the rafters, she’d shared all her troubles, comforted by Butterscotch’s soft, low whinny.
