Bearly In Love

by Terri Reid

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Monday morning dawned bright and sunny, and Stacy was excited to begin the new work week. She had spent Sunday morning at church with Addie, and they both had spent the afternoon tidying the house and getting it ready for the busy week ahead. Then, long after Addie had been asleep, Stacy sat up at the kitchen table jotting down some more ideas for the concessionary area, ideas she hoped would change the way everyone thought about the nature preserve.

  Now, as she lay in bed for just a few more moments, watching the cotton curtains being tossed by a light breeze, Stacy felt more optimistic than she had in a long time. She slowly stretched and then glanced over at the clock. She had an hour before Addie woke up, plenty of time to get things ready for the day.

  A little over an hour later, the bread was in the toaster, and her grandmother was sitting at the table enjoying the oatmeal Stacy had prepared for breakfast when the phone rang. Her heart jumped a beat. She always worried when she received phone calls at unexpected times during the day. “Hello?” she asked tentatively.

  “Hi, Stacy, it’s Henry,” he replied. “I was wondering if I could pick you up this morning and drive you in.”

  She shook her head in surprise. “Sure, I guess,” she said. “But my car is just fine.”

  “Well, actually, I figured since I’ve got to drive all the way to the concessionary because I’m helping with the construction, I could give you a ride all the way in, too,” he began and then paused. “Um, you know, it’s all about being green.”

  The toaster popped, and Stacy’s heart jumped at the same time. Did he really want to ride with her?

  “Right, green. Exactly,” she replied.

  “And, um, the boss called me yesterday and suggested that we take a little time and check out some of the local artist galleries,” he said. “I mean, if that sounds interesting to you.”

  “I would love that,” she said, her excitement growing. “Should I call him and let him know?”

  “Uh, no!” he exclaimed.

  Stacy caught her breath. What had she done?

  “I mean,” he continued with a softer tone. “I hope you don’t mind that I told him I thought you’d be happy with that arrangement.”

  Relief coursed through her and she took a deep breath. “Oh, no, that’s great,” she replied. “Actually, it sounds like a lot of fun. When should I be ready?”

  “I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” he said. “Does that work?”

  “Yes, that will be perfect,” she said. “Thanks.”

  She hung up the phone and hurried across the kitchen to grab the toast and butter it before it got cold.

  “Who was on the phone, dear?” Addie asked.

  “It was Henry Guthrie,” she answered, bringing the toast to the table. “He’s giving me a ride to work today because we have to run some errands together.”

  Nodding, Addie put a little marmalade on her toast and smiled. “He’s a nice young man,” she said. “You should ask him out on a date.”

  Stacy’s toast dropped from her fingers and landed on her plate. “Grandma, I couldn’t ask him out on a date,” she stammered. “That’s not the way it’s done.”

  “Oh, fiddle faddle,” she responded. “I watch those talk shows. They all talk about women being more assertive and grabbing what you want. If you want Henry, you need to grab him.”

  “Grandma, I don’t think Henry wants to be grabbed,” she replied, choking back her laughter. “We’re working together. That’s all.”

  Grandma took another bite of toast and shook her head. “Nice young man like that, it’d be foolish not to grab him,” she muttered.

  “Grandma, can we please stop talking about grabbing people?”

  “Who are you going to grab?” Sam asked as he let himself in the back door.

  “I think she should grab Henry,” Addie announced.

  “Grandma,” Stacy admonished, turning bright red. “Please.”

  Sam chuckled. “Well, I guess it depends on where she grabs him,” he said.

  “Don’t encourage her,” Stacy pleaded and then turned to Addie. “Grandma, Henry is my friend, but if he thinks I’m more interested in him than I should be, he’s going to distance himself from me. He’s had too many girls chase after him. I’m not going to do that.”

  Sam sat down at the table and nodded. “She’s got a point there,” he said to Addie. “A man isn’t interested in what comes easy. She needs to make him work for it.”

  Addie grinned at Sam. “You’re absolutely right,” she agreed. “Play hard to get, Stacy. That will show him.”

  “Of course, I’ll do that, Grandma,” she said with a sigh, saying anything just to appease her grandmother and change the subject. “So no more talk about grabbing, okay? It will give away our plan.”

  “What plan?” Henry asked at the back door.

  “Come on in,” Sam encouraged. “We were just giving Stacy some dating advice.”

  Stacy wanted to crawl under the table and die.

  Henry leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. “Dating advice?” he asked, the smile dropping from his face. “Who are you dating?”

  “Oh, the phone’s been ringing off the hook,” Addie replied before Stacy could answer. “I can’t keep track of how many beaus she has. A different man every night.”

  “Grandma!” Stacy choked.

  Henry’s eyes widened. “Wow, Stacy, I had no idea,” he said, tightening his lips as he felt the burn of jealousy. “A different man every night?”

  She shook her head. “No, really. It’s not what you think.”

  “Well, I guess what I think really doesn’t matter,” he answered, straightening up. “Are you ready to go?”

  She stood and nodded. “I need to get my purse and my jacket,” she said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Addie and Sam watched Stacy hurry from the room, and then Addie turned to Henry. “Did that make you want to grab Stacy?” she asked casually, spreading a little more marmalade on her toast.

  “I beg your pardon?” Henry gasped.

  Sam shook his head, chuckling softly, and looked down at the floor.

  “I told Stacy that she ought to be more assertive and grab a man,” she explained. “But Stacy told me that men don’t like women who are grabby. And then Sam said that men preferred women who play hard to get. So when I told you that Stacy was dating all of those men, did you want to grab her?”

  A slight smile played on Henry’s face. “So, she’s not dating a new man every night?” he asked, not questioning the relief he felt.

  “Heaven sakes, no,” Addie replied, shaking her head in disgust. “All she does is take care of me and this house. She’s got no life. None at all.”

  The smile spread wider, and he nodded. “Well, I should have known Stacy would have been too sensible for that,” he said with an assured nod. “I can’t see Stacy with a new man every night.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “I can’t see Stacy with a new man every night.”

  Stacy froze just outside the kitchen door, Henry’s words echoing in her ears. He can’t see me with a new man every night? she thought, her earlier mortification turning into anger. Why not? What’s wrong with me?

  Turning, she caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror. Her hair was pulled back in a tidy ponytail, as usual. Her face was nearly bare of any kind of cosmetics. Her oversized cotton shirt was comfortable but certainly not sexy. She swung sideways to look at herself from another vantage point. Her blue jeans were loose, and as she looked critically at the fit, she noticed they sagged around her butt. She looked like someone’s mother. No wonder he said I couldn’t attract any men, she thought.

  Wait! She thought angrily. What right does he have to say anything at all? Who is he to make any kind of comment on my dating life, or my appearance for that matter? Who the hell does he think he is?

  A rebellious gleam lit into her eye. No new man every night, eh?
Well, I’ll show him.

  She hurried back to her bedroom and quickly tossed the clothes she was wearing onto the bed. Then, pulling open her closet doors, she studied her options carefully. There was a pair of jeans she’d purchased while shopping with some friends in college. She shook her head; they were tighter than what she usually wore—

  The reflection of her saggy jeans bottom immediately came to mind, and Stacy pulled them from the shelf with a determined yank. She sorted through her hangers and stopped when she got to a red, short-sleeved, cashmere sweater. She had found it at a second-hand store and loved the color but avoided wearing it because she always felt it was too fancy for everyday wear, and she never went anywhere special. “Well, today is special. Besides, I’m not doing any hard work, just packing things up,” she muttered, taking it off the hanger. “And what good does it do to have clothes that just sit in the closet waiting to be worn?”

  She held up the sweater in front of her and looked in the mirror. She already felt better. “Today I go from drab to…” she paused for a moment. “Well, at least noticeable.”

  Once dressed, she looked in her mirror again and smiled. The jeans and sweater looked nice together, different than what she was used to, but they actually flattered her curves. Pushing her flat sandals to the side, she pulled out a pair of leather sandals with heels and stepped into them. She turned back and forth in front of the mirror. “As long as I don’t have to hike in them, I’m good,” she said with a quick nod at her reflection.

  Hurrying over to her bathroom, she pulled her hair out of the ponytail and bent over, running her fingers through her hair to loosen it into natural waves, then straightened up and tossed her hair back. Her shiny black hair looked tousled and, dare she say it, sexy. She grinned. “Yeah, much better.”

  Applying a little blush, some mascara and lip gloss, she smiled at the “new” Stacy staring back at her in the mirror. She felt an energizing wave of confidence as she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Okay, Henry,” she whispered. “Let’s see who could get a new man every night if she wanted to.”

  Grabbing her purse and jacket, she strolled out of the room with confidence. She paused only once in front of the hallway mirror to give herself a quick thumbs up and then lifted up her head and strode into the kitchen.

  A low whistle came from Sam along with a quick wink. “Good thing you got Henry here for protection,” he said, and then he turned to Addie. “If I were you, I’d expect company for supper.”

  Stacy felt the butterflies settle in her stomach, and she smiled at Sam. “Thanks, Sam,” she said. “I figured I’d change out of work clothes to visit the galleries. No big deal.”

  “Oh, honey, you’re wearing your hair down,” Addie said. “It looks nice that way.”

  Leaning down and kissing her grandmother on the cheek, she whispered, “Thanks, Grandma, love you.”

  Straightening, she looked at Henry, who’d been quiet during the interlude. “Ready?” she asked.

  He just stared at her for a moment longer, then shook his head and nodded. “Yeah, sorry,” he stammered. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  She walked past him through the door, hoping he’d catch the scent of the perfume she spritzed herself with at the last moment.

  “Wow, you smell great,” he said.

  Knowing he couldn’t see her face, she allowed herself a victory grin and a mental fist pump.

  “Oh, thanks,” she said, as nonchalantly as she could manage.

  He opened the truck door for her and offered her his hand to help her in. As soon as she put her hand in his, she realized it had been a mistake. Heat spread immediately from his hand throughout her body, like flowing lava. She felt a distinct tightening of his grip on her hand and nearly tripped as she stepped up into the pickup, but quickly caught herself. Praying her face didn’t reveal her body’s reaction to his touch, she settled into the seat and smiled at him.

  “Thank you,” she said, trying not to sound breathless.

  He stood in the open door for a moment, just studying her and then nodded, closing the door securely. She took a few deep breaths while he walked around to his door, trying to calm her fluttering heart.

  She was almost cool and composed by the time he opened his door and she felt she was ready to face him again once he climbed in. “So, should I make a list of galleries we should visit, or does the boss already have one?” she asked.

  Henry put the key into the ignition and turned on the truck before he answered her. “Um, he said he’d leave the list to you,” he said. “But I know there are a couple of galleries in town that feature wildlife artists.”

  “Oh, those sound great,” she said.

  “Maybe we could work this morning, grab some lunch and then visit the galleries,” he suggested.

  “Good idea,” she said, pulling a notebook out of her purse. “So, while you drive, I can make a list of some of the things I think we’re missing at the concessionary.”

  “Missing?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we have some wonderful high-end things, and then we have some cute, cheaper items that kids could purchase,” she explained. “But we don’t have a lot of in-the-middle items that will bring in browsers.”

  “Why do we want browsers?” he asked.

  “Because they are the ones that fall in love with the high-end merchandise and come back later and buy it,” she said.

  He nodded and then turned and smiled at her. “You did learn a lot at college, didn’t you?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath and shrugged. “Well, I guess we’re about to find out.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Henry pulled his truck up to the fence, put it in park and started to get out when Stacy opened her door. “Wait,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I can handle it.”

  She smiled at him. “Well, you can get the gate while I say good morning to George,” she replied with a smile as she fished the sandwich bag of apple slices out of her backpack.

  “George?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

  He froze, his heart in his throat, as he watched the massive animal charge towards Stacy and the chain-link fence. Without thinking, he dashed forward, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the stampeding bison. He tightened his hold on her and waited for the impact. And waited.

  “Um, Henry?” Stacy asked, looking up at him and trying to gently pry herself free, her heart stampeding on its own. “Are you okay?”

  He stared down at her and then looked over his shoulder. George was waiting on the other side of the fence, impatiently pawing against the ground. “George was charging at you,” he stammered.

  She smiled up at him, and for a moment, he felt the earth move beneath his feet. “George is just a pig in bison’s clothing,” she said. “He knows I have his morning apple, and he gets very excited.”

  “His morning apple?” he repeated inanely.

  She looked pointedly at his arms, still clasped liked steel bands around her body, and then back up at him. “Um, if you would let go,” she requested, “I’d be happy to show you.”

  “Oh. Oh, sure,” he said, dropping his arms and stumbling back a few inches.

  Stacy walked around him and opened the bag, which was now filled with broken apple slices because it had been caught between their two bodies. Reaching through the links, she held the two-inch piece of apple out for the enormous beast.

  “Careful,” Henry whispered, his heart pounding against his chest.

  George leaned forward and gently wrapped his lips around the apple, using his tongue to draw it carefully into his mouth. In a moment, it had been chewed, and he rubbed against the fence, eager for more. Stacy repeated the process until all the pieces were gone. As she fed George, Henry had moved slowly closer to the fence, watching in amazement.

  Finally, Stacy held out her sticky fingers, and George lapped his rough tongue against them, greedy for the last drops
of apple juice. She laughed and scratched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, George, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. “Now go off and play your bison games.”

  With a soft bellow, George turned and lumbered off back towards the high grass in the meadow. Stacy heard Henry release his breath behind her and took a moment to gather her thoughts before she turned to him. Being held in his arms, knowing he had offered to risk his life to save her, was almost too overwhelming. She wanted him to hold her again, but not for protection. She had realized in those few moments that she had never really stopped loving him.

  Taking a deep breath, she pasted on a friendly smile and turned to him. “See, no big deal,” she said, keeping her voice light. “George and I have come to an agreement.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder and held her there while he searched for what he needed to say. “When I was younger,” he said, “like seven or eight, we were here at the game preserve. There was an employee who was supposed to be an expert. He took us out in an open-air vehicle so we could get an up-close and personal view of the bison. Now, as an adult, I can look back and see that he was grandstanding, trying to impress the owner. Anyway, he got way too close to the herd, and they got nervous. Even I could tell they were nervous.”

  “What happened?” Stacy asked, her eyes wide with apprehension.

  “The vehicle backfired, and the bison started to stampede,” he said. “They were coming right at us. They hit the side of the vehicle and tipped it over. We were trapped underneath, unharmed, but really shaken. The game warden broke his arm and his collarbone, but we all knew we were lucky to get out of there alive.”

  She placed her hand over his on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I understand now why George’s actions caused you to react that way. It must have been like a flashback.”

  “Yeah, sort of,” he said, but his mind was still reeling with the knowledge that if Stacy had died, his life would have been over. It wasn’t bravery that had motivated him; it was self-preservation. In one swift moment, he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t live without her.