Only You

by Deborah Grace Stanley

  God must have heard his earlier prayer, because the heavens opened and a cold, drenching rain shocked them apart.

  “Oh!” Josie exclaimed, jerking her head back. “It’s raining!”

  Cole looked up at the darkened sky, laughing as icy needles of rain stung his face. “Imagine that. We didn’t even notice those thunderheads rolling in.”

  “No wonder the streets were deserted all of the sudden.”

  “Let’s get out of this downpour.” He had to shout to be heard above the pounding rain. It seemed to come down harder by the second.

  They stood, and he folded everything up in the blanket. Then they ran for cover under the blue awning outside the bank. Everyone inside stared at them curiously. Cole noticed that Josie’s white blouse had become quite transparent. He stared as well—for a second. Then he got hold of himself. I have to get her out of here.

  “My truck’s parked right over there. Why don’t I take you home so you can get changed?”

  Josie opened her mouth to respond, but fell silent as an old blue Buick pulled up alongside the sidewalk near where they stood.

  The town’s retired high school history teacher, Mrs. Church, rolled down the window. She had to nearly shout to be heard above the pouring rain. “Hello, Josie. I saw you standing over here and thought you might like a ride back to the library. You know, the Historical Society meeting begins in five minutes.” The little gray-haired lady pursed her lips, and after looking Josie over from head to toe observed, “Josephine, you are all wet.”

  “Yes,” Josie finally found her voice. Looking down at herself, her eyes widened and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “Who is that there with you? Is that the Craig boy?”

  Before he could speak, Josie said, “Yes, ma’am. Cole was just about to help me get out of these wet clothes.”

  “Humph!”

  Cole couldn’t keep from chuckling.

  Josie stammered. “I—I mean change. Take me home so I can change out of these wet clothes.”

  “I would think that you should,” Mrs. Church said.

  “I’ll join you and the other ladies in just a few minutes, Mrs. Church.”

  “I shall inform Mrs. McKay that you will be tardy,” Mrs. Church said in the stern, clipped voice of a schoolteacher. “I’m very disappointed in you Josephine.” She rolled up her window and continued down the street at a restrained five miles per hour, her head barely visible above the steering wheel.

  Josie dropped her head into her hands and said, “Can this get any more humiliating?”

  “Come on. I’ll drive you home.” Cole grasped her elbow, and they sprinted through the rain to his truck.

  After they’d settled themselves inside, he tossed the wet picnic blanket containing the remains of their lunch behind the seat. Everything had been going so well, but now, it seemed things couldn’t get any worse.

  He grabbed his denim jacket and settled it around Josie’s shoulders. She looked thoroughly embarrassed and withdrawn. He’d be lucky if she would agree to ever see him again.

  She’d been right. Taking her to such a public spot had been a bad idea. He’d only wanted to test the waters to see if she’d mind being seen with him in public. He should have noticed the storm clouds rolling in, but when he got around Josie, he blocked out everything but her. Being dog tired from a late night didn’t help either.

  He started the truck. They completed the short drive to her house in silence. The rain hadn’t let up at all when he pulled into her drive and shut off the engine. He rested his arm along the back of the bench seat and studied her.

  Her hair frizzed around her face. One fat curl had pulled away from that knot she’d twisted her hair into at the back of her head and now hung enticingly against her cheek, down along her neck, finally resting on the front of his jacket. He remembered the way she’d looked at him earlier, her eyes begging him to kiss her. Watching her now in the seclusion of his truck cab with the windows steaming up, the desire to kiss her intensified.

  He reached out and touched her cheek. “Josie…” His voice sounded hoarse, even to his own ears.

  She glanced up at him, then turned away, but not before he saw the closed look in her eyes.

  “Don’t.” Cole squeezed her shoulder. He couldn’t bear the thought of her shutting herself off from him for any reason. Not now.

  She closed her eyes. “I forgot the Historical Society was meeting this afternoon. I have to change and get back to work.”

  He grasped her hand before she could leave. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know, Cole. I’m really behind at work.”

  He wasn’t about to give up on her. Not because of a little embarrassment. There was definitely something between them. Today had proven it. “How ’bout I call you later?”

  She sighed, but didn’t answer. Cole reached out and turned her face toward him with a finger at her chin. When her eyes met his, he said, “I wish I knew what to say to take us back to fifteen minutes ago.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, but hadn’t gotten out of the truck yet. That encouraged him to continue.

  He teased a stray curl at her temple. “You look real pretty wet, Josie Lee.”

  She tried to tuck the hair that had fallen out of that knot behind her ears. “I’m sure I’m a mess.”

  “A beautiful mess.”

  Cole smoothed his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck. He very much wanted to take the pins out of her hair and watch it fall across her shoulders and down her back. He shifted closer to her. Josie shivered.

  “You’re freezing,” he whispered. He slipped his hands inside the jacket he’d settled loosely around her shoulders earlier and rubbed her arms through her wet shirt.

  “Cole…”

  “Mmm?” She smelled like some kind of wildflower growing in the meadow on his farm. He inhaled deeply, then pressed his lips against the pounding pulse at the side of her neck. So, the town librarian wasn’t completely unaffected by his touch.

  “I should go…” she said as she edged closer to the door, effectively breaking the contact.

  Cole settled his hands on her waist, stalling her retreat. “Would you like me to wait while you change? I could drive you back to work.”

  “No. I have my car in the garage.”

  He pulled her a little closer until their thighs aligned. “You’re sure?”

  Her gaze skidded from his face to the wet shirt stretched across his chest and back again just before she pushed away from him, sucked in a ragged breath, and said, “I’m sure I have to go. Now.”

  She may have mixed feelings on the matter, but duty called. Her work came first. Had to come first. He wanted her back in his arms, but the timing was all wrong. Factor in that she was still reluctant to let him get too close. She’d have to come to him in her own time. This much was becoming clear.

  “Okay. I’ll call you later?” He held his breath while he waited for her response.

  “Cole?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Sure,” he said cautiously.

  “I know that I’ve probably given you the impression that I—well, that I may want us to be more than friends.”

  “That don’t bother me a bit.” His heart pounded at the thought of them being much more than friends.

  She looked away from him. “It bothers me.”

  His racing heart ground to a halt. This conversation was going from bad to worse. “Why?”

  “Because I can’t afford the distraction right now.”

  Oh, yeah. She was clearly conflicted on the issue. The way she chewed on her thumbnail was telling. The way she reacted to him was also telling. Cole felt his smile return. “So, I’m a distraction?”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she admitted. “I should be paying attention to what’s on my calendar and working out the kinks in my computer program instead of letting you ply me with
Dixie’s cooking.”

  He squeezed the back of her neck. “Stop worrying about that program.”

  She pushed the damp hair back off her forehead. “How can I? The system has to be operational in less than two weeks. The way things are looking now, I’ll be unemployed by then.”

  “It’ll be working like a charm by tomorrow.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.” She looked at her watch. “I really have to go.”

  When Cole reached over to open the door for her, his chest pressed up against hers. She inhaled sharply. He enjoyed the contact, too. After he leaned back, she slowly slid across the seat, but turned back before getting out. “Oh, my jacket. I almost forgot.”

  They both looked at the soaked blanket lying in a wad behind the seat. He imagined it smeared with chicken salad and sticky fruit. “Why don’t you keep mine. I’ll drop yours off at the cleaners.”

  She smiled then, some of her good humor returning. “Thank you for lunch.”

  He smiled, too. “You’re welcome.”

  On impulse, he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. It wasn’t anywhere near the kind of kiss he wanted to give her. The kind he’d dreamed of giving her while he’d lain awake most of the night, but it seemed the safest thing to do at the moment. He comforted himself in knowing there’d be other opportunities. He’d see to that.

  She smiled a smile that women had used to ensnare men since the beginning of time. Cole had to admit as he watched her run up the brick sidewalk to her front door, she had him good and trapped.

  *

  As soon as the meeting of the Historical Society ended, Josie escaped to her office and closed the door. The looks she’d gotten from Mrs. Church and Mrs. McKay during the long meeting could have wounded.

  She had just sat down at her desk when the door to her office opened and Mrs. McKay swept into the room. “Here you are.”

  Like mother, like son. “Mrs. McKay.”

  “I need to speak with you, Josephine.” If the woman pursed her lips any tighter, they’d shatter.

  Though it grated, she would play at being contrite. It was expected. “I’m sorry I was late to the meeting, Mrs. McKay. It won’t happen again.” No need making excuses.

  “See that it doesn’t. Now about the matter I wished to discuss with you…” The painfully thin, elderly matron lowered herself to perch on the edge of the leather wing chair positioned in front of Josie’s desk.

  “Yes?”

  “Josephine, I know you have been away from Angel Ridge for some time. You’ve lived in larger cities these last years where a young lady’s conduct is not so closely scrutinized.”

  She paused. Josie couldn’t imagine where this was going, but she had a sinking feeling it would end somewhere in the vicinity of Cole Craig.

  “Here in Angel Ridge, there is a certain code of conduct that a lady of your station is expected to follow.”

  “A lady of my station?”

  “Certainly. A young lady of breeding and education who is an esteemed member of the community should conduct herself accordingly. She should consort with gentlemen of similar status and experience, attend the proper social functions, become involved in philanthropic pursuits by joining the right clubs, serving on the right committees.”

  Josie must have appeared completely baffled, because Mrs. McKay continued, “The Garden Club, the Association of University Women, the Junior League, to name of few.”

  “I see.”

  “Good. Then I need not state that associating with young men from the wrong side of the ridge would be frowned upon by the members of The McKay Foundation board. The Foundation that funded your education and provides the salary for your position here.”

  Josie seethed, but said, “I understand.” She got it loud and clear. They owned her, just like this town had owned her all her life.

  “Good. I’m glad we had this little chat. Now, how is the new cataloging program working? Are we on schedule for the Memorial Day debut?”

  “Everything is going as planned,” she lied. It would be a cold day before she admitted that anything was amiss to this insufferable woman.

  “Splendid. I’ll let you return to your work, then. I expect you’ll stay late to compensate for the time you lost today. Good day.”

  Josie’s first impulse after the door clicked shut behind the witch was to hurl a crystal paperweight at it. She held back only because it was the one her parents had given her when she’d won her first regional spelling bee.

  How dare she? How dare that woman lecture her on appropriate conduct? Social status indeed. She made it sound as if this was England or something, and she a titled lady. Obviously Mrs. McKay was still living in another decade. Another century even.

  Josie stabbed at the power button on her computer and waited an eternity for it to boot.

  “Dr. Allen?” Teresa had opened Josie’s door only far enough to look inside.

  “Come in, Teresa. And call me Josie.”

  “Oh. I couldn’t possibly. Mrs. McKay—”

  “Look, Teresa, Mrs. McKay may sign the checks, but I’ll not be her protégé, regardless of what she dictates.”

  “O—kay…” Teresa said slowly.

  “I’m sorry, Teresa. I’ve had nothing but a string of bad days and my mood is not the best. What did you need?”

  “Um, I hate to tell you this, but the network’s crashed again.”

  Josie rubbed her forehead. “Not again. This is the last thing I need.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve tried all the usual things, but nothing’s working.”

  “You’ve checked all the cables?”

  “Yes.”

  Josie sighed. “Have everyone log off the network, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Teresa wrung her hands. “How will we check out books?”

  “We’ll have to go back to doing it the old-fashioned way. Have the clerks log every book with their locater numbers so that they can input them when I get the system back up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Teresa?”

  “I’m sorry. Sure thing, Jo—Josie.”

  “Thanks, Teresa.”

  *

  “You’re burnin’ the midnight oil, Dixie.” Cole settled himself on a stool at the counter of Ferguson’s and helped himself to a doughnut from the covered cake plate sitting too close to resist.

  “Those pies and cakes you people consume don’t bake themselves magically.” She gave him a sweeping look. “Well, you look slightly better than you did earlier. I take it the picnic went well.”

  Cole bit into his doughnut. “Depends on your definition of well.”

  “Okay. You had fabulous food, a picture perfect day, and the woman of your dreams sitting with you on a picnic blanket. Surely even you couldn’t screw that up.”

  “It rained, ending the picnic abruptly.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and added, “How ’bout a cup of coffee?”

  “Did it rain?”

  The false innocent look on Dixie’s face said it all. He pointed a finger at her. “You knew!” He slapped the counter. The television in the diner was always set to the Weather Channel or CNN.

  She leaned in. “Gettin’ all wet and havin’ to take the woman to her house to change can’t have been all that bad.”

  “Well now, that did happen, but there was a snag. A couple of them.”

  “Such as.”

  “Such as, first, we had to run for cover under the awning of the bank. I’m sure someone scurried straight to Mrs. McKay about it. Then there was Old Maid Church, who just happened by on her way to the Historical Society Meeting at the library and saw us. A meeting Josie was supposed to attend. Needless to say, she was late.”

  “I’ll just bet Mrs. McKay gave poor Josie you know what over it, too.”

  “I’d say that’s a safe assumption. I’d also say it’s likely she never wants to see me again.”

  Dixie looked at her watch. “Closin’ time. I bet Josie’s still holed up ov
er at the library like she is most nights.”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you call her earlier?”

  “No.”

  She propped a hand on her narrow hip. “Well, why not?”

  “I been busy.” He wiped his hands on his napkin. “I had to go home and change after that farce of a picnic—”

  “It can’t have been all bad.”

  Well, there had been moments . . . He frowned and continued. “Then Mr. DeFoe had a mess of shelves I spent all afternoon rightin’. Then I had to go back home—”

  Dixie snapped him with a rolled up dishtowel. “I didn’t miss that cow-eyed look on your face when you got sidetracked a minute ago. Get your be-hind over to the library right now, Cole Craig.”

  “She ain’t gonna want to see me again today.”

  “Really, men can be so dense. Let me spell it out for you. You’d better get on over there and do some damage control, or you may never see her again. Give her too much time to think, and I guarantee, she’ll be thinkin’ things that won’t be good for your buddin’ relationship.”

  “What do you care, Dix?”

  She wiped the counter with her towel. “Well, you know, it’s springtime, young love and all.”

  Cole didn’t miss the sadness that clouded her eyes. “How’s Susan?” Dixie’s best friend since childhood and the mayor’s wife had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. The whole town had been upset by the grave prognosis.

  “As well as can be expected. She’s tough. She’ll fight this, just like you oughta be fightin’ for what you want.” It was her turn to point at him now. “Life’s too short.”

  She was right. As usual.

  “You got any coconut cream pie back there?”

  “Does your dog have fleas? What do you need pie for?”

  “If all else fails, I thought I’d ply her with sweets.”

  “Good thinkin’.”

  Dixie dished the pie into a styrofoam container and handed it to him. “There. Now get goin’.”