by Zoe York
“I didn’t hear what he said.”
“He was talking to her like she was a little kid.”
“Yeah, he does that sometimes.” Benji sighed. “He’s never let go of the idea that he’s our parent and he’s particularly protective of Scarlett. It’s worse lately.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“It is. Scarlett gets the worst of it because, well…because.” Benji blew out a breath and rolled his shoulders as though he were shaking off his brother’s ill will.
“I’m out of here,” Cole said.
“Oh, come on. Garth’s not—”
“I’m going to check on Scarlett. Help her out.” After all, that seemed to be the crux of her problem with Garth right now. The job was too big for one person.
“Oh. Well, have fun.” Benji slapped him on the shoulder.
Cole jogged in the direction he’d seen her go, but never caught sight of her. Without any idea where she’d parked, his best bet was to head to her place and find her there. He wove through the people, heading toward his house, losing precious time. Given how packed Main Street had been he’d walked from his place to the parade. Now he wished he’d driven.
The jog ate up time. All he could think about was Scarlett sitting in her Jeep crying in the parking lot of David’s Market. By the time he got to his place he had a plan. It wasn’t a great plan, but it sounded good in his head.
He raced into the house, shoved a few things in some bags then got in the Buick and headed toward the city limit sign and Scarlett. Maybe he was overstepping the newly drawn bounds of their friendship, but he hadn’t liked what he’d just watched go down. Scarlett enjoyed homecoming. He’d seen that in the way she talked about it and how she volunteered her time. Stealing that away from her wasn’t right.
Cole was the only driver on the road heading out of town. Everyone else was going in, sporting balloons or otherwise decorated vehicles.
This really was a big thing.
And Scarlett was missing it.
He went past the gravel lot for The Love Barn and instead turned onto the property at the mailboxes, pulling in next to the green Jeep.
This time she wasn’t inside the vehicle.
The lights in the house were off, so he didn’t bother knocking.
He could hear music coming from somewhere nearby, slightly muted.
The barn.
He’d never seen the inside, so he was curious. But more than that he was worried about Scarlett. If he’d learned anything about her in the last week and a half, it was that she had a big heart.
A security light illuminated the parking area and the front of the barn. His shoes crunched in the gravel and the breeze whistled through the limbs of the trees. Their leaves fell in spurts. There was no gentle changing of color here. No, the leaves went from green and growing to falling.
As he neared the barn, the music grew clearer.
Had she gotten down to work this fast?
He opened one of the double doors leading into the barn and stepped inside.
The interior had been completely redone. The floors were polished wood that gleamed in the light. Wagon wheel and mason jar chandeliers added to the rustic feel. Judging by the wood color of the walls inside he was guessing they’d added another layer of timber, probably to help with insulation and the overall look of the place.
Tables were arranged from one end of the barn to the midpoint where a second level ended. The wide, open area was partially empty. A dance floor if he had to guess.
And in the middle of it, Scarlett bent over a table juggling a handful of candles and something else. She hadn’t changed. She still wore jeans rolled up to her calves and her blue T-shirt with the gold vaquero on it.
“Need a hand?” he asked.
Scarlett gasped and whirled, sparkling pink rocks hitting the ground.
“Cole,” she yelped.
“Sorry.” Cole rushed forward. He set his bag on a chair then dropped to a knee.
Together they rounded up the lost pieces.
“You have got to stop scaring me like that.” She threw one of the stones into his hands with a chuckle.
“Sorry.” He stood, cradling the stones.
“What are you doing here?” She held out the mesh bag the decorations had come from and he poured them back in.
“I came to help.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.” He stared down at her and knew this was where he wanted to be, basking in her presence. He liked being around her, and he wanted to try at being friends. She needed someone in her corner.
“Cole…”
“I’m not leaving. I even brought wine and ice cream. That’s what friends do, right?”
That got a real laugh out of her and she shook her head.
“What kind?” she asked.
“White and chocolate chip cookie dough.”
“Hm.” She leaned a hip on a chair, her gaze taking him in, one brow arched.
He wanted that smile widen and for the happiness to return to her gaze. Everything else, the lust, he could tamp down on. Because for now they weren’t anything other than friends.
“I am offering to help, too,” he added.
“Well, I guess if you brought ice cream and wine you can stay.” Her eyes danced that light back in them. “There’s a mini fridge over there if you want to stow the ice cream. I’d like to get these center pieces done before I break to do anything else.”
“Even sip a little wine?”
“That might make this go faster.”
“I’ll find us some glasses.”
He stashed the ice cream in the storage closet fridge. There was even some bar-wear on hand and he was able to pop the cork and pour two very full glasses of wine.
“Here you go.” He handed her a glass then peered at the project. “Now, what do you want me to do?”
She gave him instructions for how to arrange the glass panes, bowls, candles and stones. She came after with fronds and garlands of flowers, creating an ethereal looking display on each table.
“You’re really good at this,” he said after she stood back from the first complete table.
“Practice.” She grinned at him. “I spend a lot of time studying magazines and Pinterest to figure this stuff out.”
“It’s paying well?”
“No. I don’t get paid for this part at all.”
“What?” He frowned at her.
“We don’t offer custom decorating packages, just a few standard options.” She sighed. “That’s one of the things Garth and I are butting heads over. I think, considering the work I do, we could bill me as more of a wedding planner. At the very least I could have a decorating fee. He doesn’t want to expand beyond just a venue. But that’s silly. We’re literally leaving money on the table by not offering things like planning and custom décor. The hours I’m going to spend on all of this? I can’t bill for them.”
“You should get paid for the work.” He stared around the room, taking in each embellishment on the wall, hanging from the chandeliers. They were all her handiwork.
“That’s a fight for another time.” Scarlett sighed and sipped her wine. “What about you? Have you talked to all of your vendors?”
“Yeah. I think I stand to recoup about half of what Allie spent. Some things, like her wedding dress, can’t be taken back. It is what it is.” He shrugged.
“Maybe you could donate it? There are lots of charities that would take never used items.”
“I think…I would want Allie to do that.”
“That makes sense, but everything else? Maybe organize a charity event? Raffle? I don’t know. There has to be something so you don’t completely lose the value.”
“Maybe.”
“You should talk to Bunny. The city council canceled the fall festival. She might have ideas.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
Scarlett kept up a lively stream of conversation as they wrapped up the
tables and moved on to the rest of the barn. He didn’t care what they talked about so long as he was here with her. He was fully aware that falling for her was a bad idea. She’d made her boundaries clear, and he meant to respect them. But In a vast and lonely sea, he’d found a bright light, and he was going to soak her up for as long as she’d allow.
By the time they swept the place up and turned off the lights his back hurt and he was honestly tired.
“Who knew decorating was such hard work?” He followed Scarlett as she turned left out of the barn doors and headed into the night instead of toward her house.
“Yeah, Garth and Benji got a rude awakening when they realized everything they needed to do to rent the place out.” She shook her head and laughed.
“Ready for the ice cream?”
“Let’s sit.”
He hadn’t seen the swing until they were almost on it. Scarlett sat and patted the slats next to her. He eased down and pried the lid of the ice cream off.
“Thanks for helping me.” She took a spoon.
“Are those the stadium lights?” He squinted at the brightness in town.
“It is.” She scooped out a bite.
“The game’s still going on? Do you want to go back? Maybe catch the end?”
“No.” She shook her head. “There’s always next year.”
“You sure?” He didn’t like knowing she was missing out on something she enjoyed. Something that brought people together.
“I need to start thinking about tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day and we’ll be at capacity.”
“When will it all start?”
“Well, the chairs for the ceremony are scheduled to be here by eight. Garth will oversee that. The ceremony is happening over there. You can almost see the stone we laid down to make a center aisle and room for the attendants.” She gestured further off in the darkness.
“They’re having it outside?”
“Yeah, if the weather’s nice it makes for a beautiful ceremony. It’s just a lot to set up for and if they don’t want a rustic set up with benches or the old, wooden folding chairs we got when the church remodeled they have to rent.”
“Really?”
“Another thing we could have on hand.” Scarlett sighed.
“I’d think that would be standard.”
“It’s on our list of things to add. Garth’s just cautious about expanding. He’s afraid the business will dry up. I get why he’s hesitant.” She shrugged. “I just wish he had been a little hesitant when Benji wanted to start doing photography or offering to be a DJ. He wrote those expenses off without a conversation.”
“He does?” Cole could picture Benji as a DJ, but a photographer?
“Benji even wrote our parody Love Shack song and got it recorded.” Scarlett chuckled.
“There’s a parody song?”
“Yup. If you see a faded sign by the side of the road that says five more morels to the love barn the love barn yeah.” She delivered the lyrics in a deadpan voice.
“I’m going to have to hear this sometime.” He shook his head.
“Benji would love to show it off. He always makes sure to play it. It’s like his personal Rickroll.”
They ate the last of the ice cream in companionable silence, listening to the crickets and the distant horns as someone no doubt scored an impressive touchdown. Every so often his hand bumped Scarlett’s, or she’d hold the carton with him. Casual touches that made him increasingly aware of her nearness.
But nothing was going to happen between them.
When they were finished, he took the carton and spoons and set them on the ground.
Scarlett sighed and shifted, her shoulder pressing against his. He automatically wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her to his side. It was the most natural thing to do.
He looked down at her head.
Line crossed.
It didn’t matter how good holding her felt, this wasn’t how they, as friends, should act.
“Is this a good idea?” Her voice was low, sensual.
“I was just wondering the same thing myself.” Cole considered moving his arm. It was the right thing to do. So why weren’t either of them moving?
“We are friends.”
“We are.” They just also happened to be attracted to each other.
“Is this a bad idea?” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to figure this out as we go. We don’t have to decide anything. We can just enjoy each other’s company. No expectations.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Does it have to be complicated?”
“You don’t know me very well.” Scarlett chuckled.
“I’d like to.”
“I’m a hopeless romantic, Cole. I don’t know if I know how to be friends with you. And I don’t think I’m ready for more.”
“What do you want to do then?” He wished he had an answer, but he didn’t. All he knew was that he wanted to get to know her. Spend time with her. See her creativity unfold.
“I don’t know.”
He swung them back and forth, unsure what to say.
She deserved to be happy. He didn’t know if it was his place to try to be the man who made her smile.
“You were right when you said Ransom was special,” he said.
“It is.”
“I think I could be happy here, but if that’s a problem for you—”
“Don’t be silly.” Scarlett tilted her head up and frowned at him. “People like you. We need another vet in town. We’ll figure something out.”
“And if we don’t? Is it so bad to want each other?” he asked.
“It is if you don’t want the same things.” Her voice was soft, but he could feel the emotion she was trying to keep back.
“What do I want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know if we want the same thing?”
“Okay. Cole, what do you want in life?”
He considered the question. Before coming to Ransom it had been simple, to live a normal life. But he’d set his feet on a different course.
“I want to belong somewhere. I want to find my family, live a normal life and…maybe actually get married. The idea of more than that scares me. What if I’m like my parents? What then?”
“You won’t be.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because that’s not you. I’ve met you. You’re good.” She tipped her chin up and looked at him, the moonlight glistening off her eyes.
Cole wanted to be the kind of man she deserved. He just didn’t know if he was made out of the right kind of stuff.
Something jangled in the darkness behind them.
Scarlett stiffened.
“What was that?” Cole’s mind flew to a dozen horror movies.
“That damn pig.” Scarlett shoved to her feet and bolted into the darkness.
“Scarlett? Wait.” He took off after her, but he wasn’t as sure of the ground as she was.
The light coming through the trees was dappled and dim. He heard her feet more than he saw her. The couple dozen trees at the top of the hill were widely spaced.
Feet crunched on gravel.
Her silhouette stuck out for a moment against the white boards of the brother’s house.
He put on a burst of speed as she vanished again, only to see her dart around the front of her house toward the pitiful garden.
“Shoo! No! Go away,” she yelled.
Cole rounded the house and squinted. A floodlight cast a large pool of light on the garden. A few panels of fencing had been erected to protect the area.
One bit of paneling moved as though it were bucking.
“No, no, no,” Scarlett chanted and bent to do battle with the hundred pound pig.
“What do I do?” Cole doubted he could pick the animal up. He didn’t know where it belonged.
“Go on the other side and see if you can
scare it toward that pen.”
“Pen?”
He squinted into the darkness. A few sheets of plywood were set up a short distance away.
Makeshift pig pen?
To get the pig headed that way, he needed to get between it and the house. Going around would take too much time. He had to go over.
“Okay, going over the fence.” He took a few running strides and scaled the fence, vaulting to the ground.
“She’s going,” Scarlett said.
He could barely make out the pale pink pig cutting toward the front of the house.
“She’s going back toward you,” he called out.
“No, no, no.” Scarlett scrambled out of the garden patch and into the pig’s path, startling the animal back toward Cole.
He held his arms out wide and the animal cut back toward the road.
His stomach knotted up. The pig could easily outdistance them and end up in the road.
“Ha!” He sprinted forward and to the left, startling the pig to pivot right and head straight into the plywood pen.
“Block the entrance,” Scarlett called out.
Cole went to his knees, arms spread wide, across the entrance of the pen. The pig stood there staring at him, its shrill little squeal sounding its distress.
“Here.” Scarlett grunted.
Cole caught sight of more plywood sliding behind him, closing off the pen.
“There.” She heaved a sigh.
“Got it secure?” he asked and dropped his arms.
“As secure as I’m going to make it.”
“Hey, girl. You okay?” He reached out to the pig who was breathing heavily.
“She’s an ornery stinker. I’ll go across to the house I think she belongs to and get them to come get her in the morning.”
“Do we need to put water or anything in here for her?”
“I filed a bucket when we did this earlier. It’s in the corner.”
“Good.” Cole straightened and eyed the walls keeping both him and the pig in.
The structure was built up against a tree that was likely providing the stability for the whole thing to stand. He could make out a couple posts driven into the ground to secure the wood to. It was an impressive, thrown together pen.
“I’ll slide this open and you can get out,” Scarlett said.
“No need. Don’t want to give our escape artist a window.”
