To Commit

by Carolyn Brown

  “Enough gory details.” Stella dreaded the next few hours.

  The hot fudge sundae was the best she’d eaten in ages. The evening was the longest she’d spent in her entire lifetime. When they started home, he opted for I-35, right up the interstate rather than going back through Dickson. He drove through Davis and Sulphur, then south through the Chickasaw National Recreation Area, simply known as ‘the park’ to the local residents. She’d wondered at him going ten miles further than necessary, but understood his reasoning when he kept suggesting they pull over into one of the many side roads to have a look at the night life.

  “Joel, we’re not in high school. I don’t want to go parking with you. I barely know you anymore and we’ve both been through a lot, so let’s don’t rush things,” she said bluntly.

  “Marriage didn’t make you any less a prude, did it?”

  “And it didn’t make you any less a jerk, did it?”

  “Come on, Stella. Have a heart,” he said.

  “Grow up,” she told him.

  “Well, here we are. Back home. Can I come inside?” He acted as if she hadn’t just insulted him.

  “No and don’t bother walking me to the door.”

  “I’m a gentleman, Stella.”

  She opened the door and he grabbed her in a fierce hug, pressing his lips to hers. She kept her eyes wide open and felt more like her lips had been molested than been kissed passionately.

  “Why don’t I sneak in for a while? You didn’t mean those barbs. You’re just scared of a relationship but you are definitely right about one thing. We don’t need to park along the side of the road at our age. Not when there’s a whole inn full of waiting beds,” he whispered in her ear.

  “I don’t think so.” Her nose began to twitch and she tried ward off the inevitable. “Aaaachooo!”

  Stella never could sneeze like a lady and the sneeze exploded like it came from a two hundred fifty pound mountain man. She apologized, wiping at his jacket, trying to cover her nose as it began to tickle again, and fighting back laughter at the look on his face. It wasn’t easy balancing all three especially with him stumbling backward down the porch steps.

  “Yuck. Well, I’ll call next week.” He threw over his shoulder, snarling his nose and making fast tracks toward his vehicle.

  A simple sneeze. She’d have to remember to carry a vial of black pepper in her purse from now on when she dated. She yelled across the yard. “Thanks for the ice cream and conversation. But Joel, don’t call me. It didn’t work then and it’s not going to work now. We just don’t mix.”

  “We’ll see,” he gave her his best grin which usually made round heels on all the women he knew. One smile and they’d fall backwards on the nearest bed, sand bar or even railroad track and pull him right down with them.

  There wouldn’t be any we’ll sees. He could call every night until three days past eternity and she still wouldn’t be interested in providing warmth for Joel. He hadn’t grown from a boy into a man. He didn’t know anything about a lasting commitment. All he was interested in was a moment of instant gratification. She opened the door and went inside, didn’t bother to turn on the light and headed up the stairs.

  “Dang you, Rance,” she swore under her breath. “Until you invaded my house, I was doing just fine.”

  Rance came out of the kitchen. He wore flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt or shoes. He had a chest full of dark, soft looking hair and carried a cup of coffee. “Did I hear my name mentioned?”

  She wanted to take the coffee from him and drink it all just to get the taste of Joel’s kiss out of her mouth, but she wanted to lay her face against his chest even more.

  “Yes, you did,” she covered her error swiftly. “I was muttering about what I should prepare for your breakfast.”

  He sipped the steaming coffee. “Waffles?”

  “Then waffles it will be,” she said.

  “Where did you go? Out on a date? You’re all dressed up.”

  “That is none of your business,” she said.

  “What’s his name?”

  “I said that’s none of your business. Good night, Rance.” She left him standing there staring at her.

  Chapter Three

  Rance hung around the kitchen while Stella loaded the dishwasher. Another family occupied all the rooms but his. They were only there for breakfast and didn’t arrive back until bedtime so it had been only Rance and Stella at the dinner table.

  “Come sit with me in the living room when you finish.”

  She shook her head. “That isn’t part of the contract. Breakfast from six to seven on the bar or until eight if the clients arise a little later, no lunch, supper promptly at six, family style at the table, and BYOE, that’s bring your own entertainment.”

  “But,” he frowned. “Stella, just what is it that makes you so distant? I’m just asking you to sit with me and have a little adult conversation. It’s been a long day and I’ve worked hard.”

  “Oh, yeah, what did you do? Sit in a deer stand or behind a tree waiting for Bambi to poke his little head up so you could shoot him. Sounds like hard work to me, all right,” she said.

  “I was only hunting that first weekend, Stella. I’ve been busy on my house the rest of this week. I bought the property right next door to you and have been working on it before the movers and the hired help come up from Waco. The painters were there on Monday. The cabinets were installed yesterday. The plumbers and electricians have worked both days. Carpet came today and tomorrow the moving vans will be here. On Friday the cattle trucks will arrive with the livestock.”

  “Then you’ll be leaving early?” She asked, amazed that she could speak. Good grief, the man would be living in the old Morgan place right next door to her five acres. Instead of disappearing, not to be heard of again at least until next hunting season, he’d be right there, a quarter of a mile away. Did he get his two children every other weekend and summers? Would his ex-wife bring the children?

  He leaned over the counter. “Oh, no, that’s why I rented a room for extra time. I need to unpack and take care of things. I’ll need every single day I’ve got booked. Come in the living room and talk to me? We are going to be neighbors so we might as well get to know each other. Tell me why a beautiful, young woman like you has strapped herself to a twenty four hour, seven day a week job?”

  She was speechless for several seconds, trying to collect her thoughts into an intelligent answer or comment, but nothing floated from the heavens. While she was deciding how in the world she was going to refuse, the door bell rang.

  Saved by the bell.

  She hurried to open the door only to find the devil wearing tight jeans and a smile on the other side.

  Joel leaned against the jamb, one hip cocked to keep the screen door open and his foot already preventing her closing the other door in his face. “Hello, gorgeous. How about an ice cream at Braums or a long ride in the country?”

  “I’m busy tonight, Joel. I told you last week this wouldn’t work. Sorry you drove all the way out here for nothing,” Stella said.

  He hooked an arm out and pulled her toward him in one fluid motion. “Oh, darlin’, it ain’t for nothin’.”

  When she was chest to chest with him, his lips already puckered and leaning forward to kiss her, she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed backward. “I said I’m busy,” she said in an icy tone as she stumbled.

  Rance grabbed her around the waist to keep her from falling. “Whoa, there, honey. Who’s here? Do we have company?”

  Joel shoved his way into the living room. He drew his eyebrows down into a frown. “Who’s this? Does he know we are an item?”

  “I’m Rance Harper, Stella’s new neighbor. She sure didn’t tell me you two were an item. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bought the old Morgan ranch. Here I thought she was only seeing me,” Rance’s eyes glittered in amusement.

  Joel glared at her. “Looks like she’s been two-timing us both. So, Stella?”

  �
��So what?” She removed Rance’s hands. His touch caused her heart to do acrobatics. Joel’s touch turned her stomach.

  “So which one is it? Surely, you aren’t going to give me up for this wannabe rancher.”

  “Ah, it pains me to do so but I’m afraid I must,” Stella felt like a second grader on the playground. Adults didn’t act like this, but then no one had ever accused Joel of maturity. Women seldom admit their age. Men never act theirs.

  “You’re saying you are choosing him over me?” Joel asked incredulously.

  “That’s it. I’m saying that. Yes, I’d choose Rance over you. Now please leave.”

  “You are a fool. You didn’t know how to get a man when you were young. Didn’t know how to keep the one you got and don’t know which one would give you a good time now. Good-bye, Stella,” Joel said dramatically and slammed the door on his way out.

  “You are welcome,” Rance said.

  “I don’t have to thank you, Rance. I could have handled it on my own so there’s no thanks due. When a slug crawls up in the kitchen you just pour salt on it and it’ll melt. I could have salted Joel down without your help. And this is all so sophomoric—it’s pitiful.”

  “Yeah, but it was fun. Admit it. And was that a bitter history I heard?”

  “Could be but it’s none of your business,” she nodded.

  “Oh, yes it is. I’ve just saved you from a fate worse than death, and to pay me back you can have coffee with me in the living room.”

  “Joel is a fate worse than death but the answer is no.”

  Rance followed her to the kitchen. “But you chose me over him.”

  “I’d choose a snuff dipping mentally challenged idiot over Joel,” she snapped at him.

  Rance threw back his head and roared. He felt more alive than he had in years.

  She shook a stack of coffee filters at him. “Don’t you laugh at me.”

  “Why? That was funny. I could visualize you with this big ox of a dummy with snuff in the corners of his mouth and wearing bibbed overalls so dirty that they could stand in the corner by themselves. Does lover boy Joel know that he’s taking a back seat to that vision?”

  “I don’t give a tiny rat’s rump what he knows or doesn’t know,” she said, a smile tickling the corner of her mouth. “Okay, okay, you win. A cup of coffee in the living room but only fifteen minutes worth of adult conversation.”

  And you’ll sit on one end of the sofa and I’ll take the chair as far away as possible. Nothing can go wrong if we keep a room between us and a cup of coffee in our hands. Lord, why do I have to be attracted to dark haired, dark eyed men? It’s not fair. Why can’t some good old boy make my little heart flutter?

  She carried a cup in each hand to the living room only to find Rance on his hands and knees, his face close to the floor.

  She set the coffee on an end table. “What are you doing?”

  “Lost a contact,” he said.

  She squatted beside him and began to look in the same area.

  He held up something on the end of his finger. “Ah, here it is, but ruined. Must have stepped on it and ground it into the carpet.”

  Their eyes met, not six inches apart, over the tip of a finger where a dark brown mangled piece of plastic stuck.

  “You’re not brown eyed,” she was taken aback.

  “No, they are blue,” he said.

  “Well, how about that?” She smiled.

  He removed the other lens. “Hey, if I’d known you’d smile over blue eyes instead of brown, I’d have lost both of them. You look all out of focus with one lens in and one out. I’m blind without them so that means you’d better sit on the sofa with me or you’ll just be a voice coming across the room instead of the lady I’m talking to.”

  She hugged the far end of the sofa, wedging herself close to the arm. “So why are you wearing brown contacts?”

  “Because my ex-wife hated brown eyed men. It’s a mental thing according to my therapist. He says that having brown eyes gives me the power to keep her away,” Rance only squinted a little when he looked at Stella.

  “You have a therapist?”

  “Sure, doesn’t everyone this day and age? I told my grandpa that I should’ve given up ranching and studied to be one. It pays much, much better.”

  Stella looked at the clock sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. “So what do you want to talk about? Your fifteen minutes are running out.”

  Stella was slightly out of focus. Even with her makeup worn off and blond hair tied back in a pony tail at the nape of her neck, she was still lovely, even if a little fuzzy around the edges.

  “What’s a lovely lady like you doing in a place like this?” He used the age-old bar line.

  “I told you before. Granny left the Inn to me when she died. My marriage was already on the rocks and had been for months. When my ex found out I couldn’t sell the place for upteen years it was the last straw. Evidently while I was working to support his wannabe acting career, he was sleeping with his agent. A few weeks after Granny died, he came home with a song and dance routine common to a lot of actors or at least those who want to be on the cover of tabloids. I was a hindrance to his career. Simple as that. I came home, opened up shop and started cleaning and cooking. Next question?”

  He slid down the leather sofa until she was in complete focus. “No more questions,” he said softly.

  “Then we sit here in comfortable silence until the clock strikes ten thirty or have you been paid in full for your intervention with Joel Lucifer?”

  Rance grinned. “That’s not really his name is it?”

  “No, but I expect he was spawned by the devil and it’s his secret name,” she said.

  “What’s your biggest fear?” He asked out of the clear blue.

  “The ‘C’ word. I’m terrified of commitment,” she said without hesitation. “And yours?”

  “The same. I’m not ever getting married again. I might have a fling or two. I might have a life long lady partner who shares my life but I got stung too bad the first time to try it again. Julie was her name. She was a tall blond with dark brown eyes. She flat out broke me from sucking eggs, I’m here to tell you.”

  “Not me. I want to get married. I want one of those lifetime things. I want the marriage license. I want to fight and make up, have a yard full of kids, and someday have someone to hold my hand when I’m taking my last breath and tell me to walk slowly because it won’t be long until they’re following me. I want all that, but I’m terrified of making a commitment to get it,” she said.

  “You could have every bit of it without a cursed marriage license, then you’d be free to walk away any time without problems,” he said.

  “Not me. If I’m going to have a lifetime thing, it’s going to be with all the bells and whistles,” she turned to see his expression, only to find his face six inches away and leaning in. The last thing she remembered before his lips found hers was that he had the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man.

  His soft, full lips knew exactly how to create a steamy, warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. Time stood still. The earth stopped moving. Sensations flooded Stella that she hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. She’d kissed her first boyfriend back when she was in the ninth grade and there’d been too many to count since then. But even Mitch, with all his good looks and finesse hadn’t affected her like Rance. She wanted to pull away and run to the safety of her bedroom, but she had no power over her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and when the kiss ended and another began, she melted into him.

  An hour later, her lips were bee-stung swollen, her heart pounded, her body wanted what it couldn’t have and she felt so foolish she blushed crimson. She pulled away and stood to her feet, her knees more than a little weak and her conscience telling her that she was a grown woman, not a high school student who made out with her boyfriend on the sofa.

  “I think it’s time for . . .” She stammered.

  “Bed? Your place or mine
?”

  “Neither, Rance, and you know it. You want a lady companion. I want a lifetime thing. We’d both be wasting our time. Besides, I don’t take this kind of thing casually. This should have never happened. I have a rule about not getting involved with customers.”

  “But I won’t always be a customer. I’ll soon be a neighbor and besides, I know what kind of woman you are, Stella. I was teasing. I would like to see you sometime. I’ll be moving into my house in a few days but I’d like to take you to dinner or see a movie or go to Dallas for a play,” he picked up his cup and carried it to the kitchen. Usually a session like he’d just enjoyed netted more benefits. Maybe eventually Stella would come around to his way of thinking. The geography was perfect: living right next door to each other but with enough space between them to keep it from being too close. It could be a lifelong arrangement with no permanent ties. Lifelong; not lifetime.

  “I don’t think so, Rance. It would be totally unprofitable. Good night.” She left her cup on the end table and headed for the stairs, forcing boneless legs to carry her up to her bedroom where she shut the door and flopped down on her bed.

  Her body was in a whirlwind of swirling unfulfilled passion. She had one steadfast rule she’d never broken, no matter what, and that was she did not get involved with her boarders. She’d just shattered that statute into a million jagged pieces but it wouldn’t happen again.

  She touched her swollen lips and felt her warm cheeks. The right man to make her swoon, the right distance between them once he moved, the handsome good looks with one minor blind flaw, everything perfect . . . except he wanted a mistress and she wanted to be a mother with legitimate children. Rance already had his two kids and she had none. She could be a mother to step children without a problem, but she wanted her own to go with them.

  Now isn’t that a hoot and just as adolescent as necking on the sofa for an hour? Rance told me what he wanted and he asked me for a date. He certainly did not ask me to be that mistress he was talking about. I’ve jumped to conclusions just like a kid would do.