Texas Temptation

by Kathryn Brocato

  Great. Just when she needed it most.

  “Uh, listen, Jack. I was thinking maybe I’d take you to see some of beautiful Barnes this evening. How about an early supper at my favorite place? My treat.”

  He smiled down at her from the cockpit. “Sounds good. But I’m buying. Your family’s fed me enough.” He stripped a wire from beneath the dash before glancing back her way. “I guess we’re going to your uncle’s diner since it’s the only place around?” He seemed genuinely pleased. “In fact, you ladies ask your mom to join us. Maybe we can all get to know each other a little better.”

  Hailey opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Felicia hurried to decline gracefully. “That sounds great, Jack, but I have to practice for my piano recital and Mom … Mom’s on a diet.”

  “Your mom’s on a diet?” He tossed them both a quizzical look. “What for? She couldn’t weigh a hundred and ten pounds.”

  Felicia shook her head. “Women. Will we ever understand ‘em?”

  Jack gave a decisive shake of his head before turning his attention back to Hailey.

  “Well, I guess it’s just the two of us then. Unless you want to back out on me.”

  Her flustered voice threatened to betray her. She laughed to hide her agitation. “I asked you, didn’t I, you big lug.” She propped her hands on her hips, wondering how in the world she’d finished off two pockets full of candy since lunch without realizing it.

  “Be ready at five,” she issued the order with more control than she felt.

  “It’s a date, then.”

  She adjusted her smile. “I wouldn’t call it a date, actually. I’d call it more of an appointment. Or an outing, maybe.” she said, wiping her perspiring palms along the front of her jeans. “It’s just food.”

  She bit her lip and turned toward Felicia, who stood waiting at the hangar door.

  I’m supposed to be the confident, funny one. Felicia is the primpy, flirty one. Lindsey, the other diva, is the sophisticated, polished one. And Jack’s the serious, dignified one. And for some ridiculous, outrageous reason, I want to impress him so badly.

  She fought the urge to scream “Never mind” at him. As soon as this makeover foolishness is done I’ll regain my rightful place as family jokester before permanent damage can be done to my reputation. Oh, Lord. What am I doing?

  As Felicia linked her arm through her sister’s, and the two started toward the house, Hailey felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

  What in the world had she gotten herself into now?

  • • •

  Jack took one look at the vaguely familiar figure swaying gently on the porch swing. He felt his mouth drop open but seemed powerless to push the words out.

  “Hailey? Is that you?” Dumb question. Of course it was her. He’d know those eyes anywhere.

  “Who else would you expect to be sitting here waiting on a slowpoke like you?” She stopped the swing with a dainty sandaled, perfectly pedicured foot and stood as he approached.

  Was this angel in white the same woman who departed from the hangar a few hours before? The same woman with grease stains on her work shirt and rust flakes in her hair? He recovered his thoughts slowly. “You look absolutely … ” he searched for a word to exchange for stunning, beautiful or gorgeous. “Wow.”

  She gave her ruffled white skirt a twirl. “Oh, this old thing?” The amusement flickering in her sapphire eyes was accompanied by a hint of uncharacteristic apprehension.

  She met him at the steps and he reached a hand forward to assist. “Why, thank you, Mr. Stinson.” She laid a soft, perfectly nail-polished hand in his and stepped from the porch.

  “You’re welcome, Miss Holman.” He released her hand reluctantly and fought the urge to tell her that she looked like an absolute angel. Minus the wings. Actually with wings, he thought with a smile. But no airplane talk. Not tonight.

  His brain warned him that she may bolt and run if he overwhelmed her with flattery. It’s probably best to keep some of my thoughts to myself.

  Jack stole another look at her. Don’t tell her she’s glowing. And don’t stare at her lips.

  Don’t tell her she’s prettier than any model or movie star you’ve ever seen.

  “I’m hungry,” he said. “And looking forward to seeing the big city of Barnes. And by the way, you look great.”

  She tossed her head in an exaggerated effort, swinging the hair around her shoulders. “Oh, this is just how us Barnes girls always look.” She offered him an admiring glance. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  “Well, thanks. I try.” He really wanted to tell her how much he liked the way her face seemed delicate and strong at the same time. How much he’s already become accustomed to her boldly refreshing, natural beauty and how fun she was, even when she was driving everybody crazy with her one-track mind. Especially then.

  “So, I take it I’m not under dressed for this favorite place of yours.”

  She eyed his navy slacks and navy and white striped button down. “Where we’re going, you can wear anything you like. There’s no dress code.”

  He held the gate open for her. “That’s good. What does your uncle serve at his diner beside chicken fried steak?”

  “A variety.” She swished her skirt as she passed through.

  He closed the gate behind them. “In other words, you’re not telling me anything more until we get there.”

  She pointed a glossy mauve polished fingernail at him. “Bingo.”

  • • •

  Pulling her Dodge pickup onto the road, Hailey fought the sudden urge to pull the barrettes from her hair and grab a tissue to rescue her lashes from the three coats of mascara Felicia had layered around her eyes. She ran her tongue along Plum Passion lips and grimaced. Yuk, she sputtered inwardly, feeling her resolve to tolerate this made-up business slip away. This stuff tastes like flavored wax. “I want my Dr. Pepper flavored lip gloss.”

  Jack eyed her in disbelief. “They make a Dr. Pepper flavored lip gloss?”

  I said that out loud? “The bluebonnets are blooming like crazy.” She mentally patted herself on the back. Nice recovery.

  “They sure are. Beautiful. They make a Dr. Pepper flavored lip gloss?”

  “Sure do. Know what I like about wildflowers? They’re just themselves. They’re genuine.” Hailey felt an uncomfortable tug at her heart. She’d always insisted on being herself at all costs, whether it pleased others or not. And now here she was, driving her pickup down the same dirt road she learned to drive on as a gangly tomboy teenager, and she was too uncomfortable to enjoy it.

  She missed her blue jeans.

  I’m not cut out for this made-up stuff. She plucked a tissue from inside the console and rubbed at her lips. Then fished in the cup holder for her stash of lip gloss and hair bands. She swiped a layer across each lip. “Man, that’s better!”

  She glanced his way. Jack only smiled. He seemed to be enjoying the view as much as she was. “Don’t you love the way the wildflowers are just randomly scattered around like they fell out of heaven? My mom works so hard on her roses, and they’re gorgeous, but this is amazing,” she said.

  “Well, I guess there’s no such thing as an ugly flower. But I think you might be right. About the wildflowers falling out of heaven.”

  A pensive reflection touched her. “You know what? My dad and I, we’re wildflowers. My mom and my sisters, they’re roses.”

  “That’s interesting. I never thought of that.” He studied her face. “And what am I?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “You’re a begonia. Strong. Solid. Stunning.”

  He drew his lips in. “I like that.”

  “Well, you should.” She tapped her brake. “It’s a compliment.”

  Reaching their first turn off, and without fanfare, Haile
y tugged on the barrettes and shook the hairspray from her hair. Then she reached down and pulled the sandals from her feet and chucked them behind the seat, issuing him a satisfied grin. “So tell me, in your manly opinion. Most men prefer roses, don’t they? To wildflowers?”

  He watched her with interest. “Wildflowers are great. So are roses.” He shrugged. “They’re both great.”

  “Sure.” She slowed the pickup and turned onto a narrow dirt road. “But if a guy has a choice between a rose and a wildflower, which would he choose?”

  “Depends on the guy.”

  She wanted to tell him how dense guys could be. Which would you choose, Jack Stinson? “I’ve seen the way men look at roses.”

  “And what kind of look is that?” There was no challenge in his voice. He was genuinely interested in her answer.

  She widened her eyes and held her mouth open in a mock gaping gawk, swiping her hand at imaginary drool on her chin.

  “We don’t.”

  “You do! A lot of men do, anyway.”

  He shifted in his seat to turn toward her, resting his arm across the back of her seat. “Maybe so, the heathens.”

  She let out a laugh.

  “Well, not trying to change the subject or anything, but begonias are my mom’s favorite flower.”

  She slipped a bare foot on the brake again and made another turn. “I like being a wildflower. They’re just themselves. Know what I mean?”

  “I do. But I also think that roses are themselves as well.”

  “Ah, true, Jack. But wildflowers can thrive with just the basics. Water, dirt, sunshine. That’s the kind of life I want to live. Basic. Roses need pruning and special care.” Her shoulders rose and fell quickly. “That’s just the way God made them.”

  He seemed to ponder her statement as he shifted his head forward to survey the upcoming scenery. “That’s fine for you. But do you think other people are wrong for seeing things differently than you?” He faced her again. “For instance, say you want to be this way. Basic. And someone close to you doesn’t. They were created to be a rose or a tulip. Or a daisy. If you have to live together, how do you get along without infringing on the other’s right to be themselves?”

  She twisted her lips in thought. “Well, I suppose.” The realization of whom he was speaking of hit her. “You’re sharp, Stinson. But my situation isn’t nearly as simple as you’re trying to make this whole flower scenario sound.”

  “I never said it was simple. I was only wondering what solution you’d offer to someone in a similar predicament, that’s all.”

  “Sure, sure. But you never really told me, Jack. Are you a wildflower man or a roses man?” When in doubt, change the subject.

  She certainly wasn’t planning to spend an evening listening to him tell her how wrong she was about reopening the business without her mom’s consent. She could have stayed home and been beat over the head with that message.

  He pondered with narrowed eyes and lips drawn thoughtfully. “That’s the big question. You want to know which I’d prefer?”

  “Yeah, what type of women did you date in Cryder, Texas? Or woman.” It suddenly occurred to her that there could be someone significant in his life. Maybe someone he was trying to get over. Her heart took a little dive toward her stomach.

  He let out a resolved chuckle. “Date? My dear, I had no time for dates. I barely had time for a haircut every few weeks.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah, I can tell you’re all choked up about it.” His brown eyes met her profile with obvious approval.

  She tossed him a sideways glance. “I am. Truly. Choked.” She conjured up a cough.

  “So what about you? What type of men do you date in Barnes, Texas? Begonias? Gerber daisies?”

  “Date? Are you serious? I barely have time for a haircut every few months.”

  An expression of satisfaction danced around his face. “What a shame.”

  “Indeed!” She laughed at his obvious pleasure. “I hear you choking, too.”

  They drove in comfortable silence for a moment. Jack cast another look her way. “You really do look great. But, to be truthful, I think I like the denim Hailey better. So there, I said it. Don’t be offended.”

  “Well, so do I, so there, and the truth doesn’t offend me,” she tossed back at him before a full force laugh left her lips. “I don’t think I dressed up this much for any of those senior year special events we’re supposed to attend. So I suppose now you’re going to think you’re something really special.”

  “I don’t think I’m something special, and I don’t care if you wear a potato sack and twigs in your hair.” His eyes blazed playfully in her direction. “And who did you go to those fancy senior year functions with? I thought you never had time for dates.”

  “Oh, you know how it was. High school. Everybody goes to the prom. I went with a buddy of mine. Bradley. We were best buds more than anything. Hung out together, sang in the church choir, promised we’d marry each other someday if we couldn’t find anyone else to put up with us.”

  “What happened to ol’ Bradley?”

  She flashed a wide grin. “He found someone to put up with him.”

  Before he could ask, she offered her explanation. “Bradley was always a super nice guy, but when he went off to college he changed.” She glanced over at him with her best smug “of course” look. “He wanted a rose. He wouldn’t settle for a wildflower anymore.”

  “His loss.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Oh, and I took another friend, Mark Merket, to the Athletic Banquet.”

  “What happened to him? Don’t tell me he married a rose, too.”

  She wasn’t sure if he’d laugh or want to run now. “Ugh, well, after our date he announced he wanted to go into the priesthood.” She paused and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “Some say I had something to do with that. But I don’t think so.”

  He let out a loud laugh and reached across to pat her shoulder anyway. “You poor thing. That’s gotta hurt. But I don’t know that I’d take that too personally. Those two guys just had different callings. Right?”

  “Obviously!” She let loose with a laugh of her own and swung her truck onto a long dusty driveway. She was beginning to allow herself to feel decidedly comfortable with him. And it felt good.

  “Bradley got to be so ambitious once he left Barnes. Not ambitious in a good way.

  Ambitious like step-on-people-to-get-where-I-want-to-go ambitious. That was my opinion, anyway.” She went on. “Can you picture me as a big city lawyer’s wife?”

  ”Sure, if that’s what you wanted.”

  She braked in front of a huge red barn and turned the ignition key to off.

  She swiveled her head to face him. “Sorry, that was a judgmental statement, but you know how I feel. We all just need to be who we are. Whether it’s a lawyer, a pilot … ” She shrugged. “Or a man of the cloth.”

  He agreed with a knowing nod. “I’ve never disagreed with you on that point.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but she hurried to open the truck door and step out into the breezy west Texas air.

  Taking the sides of the skirt she’d borrowed from her sister Lindsey’s closet in each of her hands, Hailey waved the cloth around her in the breeze. “Look at this. We could dress two families with this one piece of material.”

  He bit his lip to stifle a grin. “Maybe three.”

  “What was I thinking?” She wiggled her toes in the thick dust and squinted against the rapidly sinking sun. “Let’s go inside and watch the sunset.”

  “Go inside? This is a barn.”

  “Of course it’s a barn. Where did you think my favorite place to eat would be?” She flung him a deliberately incredulous look. “You actually thought we were going to some stuffy old restaur
ant?” She headed for the back end of her pickup and he followed.

  “No, actually I thought we were going to your uncle’s place.”

  Opening the tailgate she reached for one of the baskets sitting in the truck bed. “Jack, you are so funny.” She pointed to the farthest basket from his reach. “That’s the heavy one.”

  He reached in and retrieved the lighter one first and handed it to her, then he grabbed onto the heaviest one for himself. “What’s so funny about me thinking we were going to your uncle’s place?”

  “We are. Wanna hand me that quilt?”

  “You are so totally confusing me right now.” He draped the colorfully patched quilt on top of the basket in his hand.

  She wrapped both hands around the wicker handle of the basket she carried. “Ready?”

  He nodded and circled his arms around his cumbersome load. “Your uncle has the only diner in town. We’re going to your uncle’s place. But we’re here? With food?”

  “This is my uncle’s farm. My favorite place to eat. The diner’s great, but this place … ” She stepped around a patch of brown grass. “Yikes, stickers.”

  Jack followed close behind as she led him around to the side of the barn. “This belongs to your uncle with the diner or is this another uncle?”

  “Uncle Frank. The one who owns the diner. My only living uncle. Great, huh? I’m afraid they’ll sell it one day, but for now … ” Happiness covered her face. “It’s all ours!”

  His eyes roamed their surroundings. “I like it.”

  She knew her smile radiated her pleasure. “Just wait. You haven’t seen anything yet. Remember, I told you I was going to show you more of Barnes. You’re in for a real treat.” She led him forward a few steps further until they reached a faded red wooden door. She halted and set her basket on the ground.

  Jiggling the doorknob, she cast a confident look over her shoulder at him. “There’s a trick to this,” she said, leaning her right shoulder against the door, twisting and lifting the knob with her left hand, and pushing up on the door as she pushed it open against her weight. The door flew open with a bang against the barn wall.