The Time of Aspen Falls

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The Time of Aspen Falls Page 11

by Marcia Lynn McClure


  “Hi,” Rake greeted. The mirth and amusement in his eyes were obvious. His shoulders bounced for a moment as a low chuckle danced inside his broad chest.

  He offered his hand to her, and she placed a pink paw mitten in it. He pulled her to her feet, and she brushed a yellow ringlet away from her cheek. His smile only broadened as he studied her from head to toe.

  “It-it’s the premier of Willamina Dog and the Wobbly Wood today,” she explained.

  “Oh, that’s what I figured,” he said, still smiling at her, his gorgeous eyes still alight with amusement.

  Aspen brushed away another yellow ringlet, certain her face was at least the same color as her costume by now. The blush on her cheeks was almost painful!

  She placed her hands at her waist, attempting to look as casual and sophisticated as possible. “What can I do for you?”

  Rake seemed to be fighting to keep from laughing. And why shouldn’t he? She looked ridiculous!

  “I came to tell you your clock is ready,” he answered.

  “Oh,” Aspen said. She nodded and added, “That’s great.”

  “Yeah. You can pick it up anytime.”

  “Well…that’s…that’s…thank you,” she stammered. “I’ll pick it up as soon as I can.”

  “That’s Willamina Dog you’re talkin’ to, mister.”

  Aspen looked down to see a little girl tugging on one leg of Rake’s jeans. Her blush deepened. Yet she found herself smiling as she watched Rake hunker down and smile at the child.

  “Is it?” he asked. “Well, do you think she’s like other dogs? Do you think she likes to have her tummy rubbed?”

  The little girl nodded, and Aspen was certain she would die—certain of it!

  “And behind her ears too!” the little girl suggested. “It says so right in the book!”

  “It does?” Rake asked as the little girl reached down and picked up a copy of Willamina Dog and the Wobbly Wood lying on the floor at her feet.

  “Yes! See…it’s right here,” the little girl said. Aspen watched as the little girl opened the book and pointed to an illustration on one page. “Read it, mister.” The little girl pointed to a section of text. “Right here…see? Read right here.”

  “Okay,” Rake chuckled. “Let’s see.” He began reading aloud. “For everyone in the whole Wobbly Wood…knew Willamina Dog just never could…resist a good, long scratchily scratch…behind her ears, on her tummy patch…or under her chin or over her nose…on the top of her head or between her toes.”

  “See there? I told you!” the little girl exclaimed.

  “Rosa!” a woman exclaimed. Aspen sighed, relieved to see a woman rush over and take hold of the little girl’s hand. “You scared me, mi hija! Don’t run off like that!” The woman looked to Rake, her expression instantly changing to that of extreme approval. “I’m so sorry. She’s just so excited about the new book.”

  “Oh, that’s fine,” Rake said, standing. “It looks like a really good one.”

  “You keep that one, mister,” the little girl said. “I already got one.”

  “Thanks,” Rake said.

  “Again, I’m so sorry,” the little girl’s mother said, blushing as she looked at Rake.

  “What are you—shredded wheat?” Gina whispered to Aspen. “You’d think you were invisible. She totally ignored you!”

  “I told you,” Aspen whispered back. “Eye candy for women…that’s all he is.”

  “’Bye, Willamina!” the little girl called over her shoulder as her mother led her away.

  “Bye-bye!” Aspen said, tossing a friendly paw-wave to the little angel.

  “Willamina Dog and the Wobbly Wood,” Rake read as he looked at the front of the book. “And she likes to have her tummy rubbed.”

  “Apparently,” Aspen said, reaching for the book.

  Rake quickly moved it above his head and out of her reach, however. “I’ve got a niece who might like to read about Willamina,” he said.

  “It’s a good book,” Gina interjected. “Kids really seem to like it.”

  “I can see why,” he said, studying Aspen from head to toe. His smile broadened again.

  “You’re still on the clock, Aspen,” Michael said, appearing seemingly from nowhere again. “And that village still isn’t lit up.” He glared at Gina and quickly assessed Rake. “Talk to your friends on your own time.”

  “Oh, I’m not her friend,” Rake said. “I’m just her boy toy.”

  Aspen’s teeth nearly dropped out of her head.

  “Oh,” Michael said. He frowned, a look of astonished confusion on his puckered brow.

  “H-he’s here to fix the village,” Gina stammered.

  “Oh,” Michael said again.

  “Yeah. I’ll get right on it,” Rake said.

  Aspen was sure she’d drop dead—or that her head would explode at the very least! Boy toy? Here to fix the village?

  “Well, okay. Thanks…I guess,” Michael said. He turned to leave but paused, looking back at Aspen. “And get out of that ridiculous costume. You look like an idiot.” He took one last look at Rake and walked away toward the front of the store.

  “You want me to lay that guy out for you?” Rake asked through clenched teeth. “I’m sure it wouldn’t take much. I could probably just sneeze a little too hard and take him out.”

  “I-it’s okay,” Aspen said. She wanted to cry. How embarrassing! How frustrating! Rake Locker would have nothing further to do with her, she was certain.

  “Well, let me get this little village display plugged back in for you, at least,” he said, handing her the Willamina Dog and the Wobbly Wood book. “It looked like you were having a little trouble with it when I first came in.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to…” Aspen began. Still, before she knew it, Rake Locker had plopped down on his back and slid beneath the table. In a matter of a few seconds, the village sparked to life. Rake slid out from under the table, stood, and took the book from Aspen’s hands—rather, her paws.

  “So your clock is all finished,” he said.

  “Thanks again,” Aspen said. She glanced to Gina, but her friend seemed distracted by something beyond them, toward the front of the store.

  “And,” Rake continued, “I mean…I know you’re busy…but I wanted to know if you’d be willing to go to my grampa and gramma’s harvest barn dance thing with me this Saturday.”

  “What?” Aspen asked, astonished.

  “I’ll be right back,” Gina said.

  Aspen watched for a moment as Gina headed for the front of the store. Was she about to have words with Michael? Still, Aspen didn’t care if Michael messed with her schedule—or fired her, for that matter. Had Rake Locker just asked her out?

  “My grandparents live down in Corrales, and they have this harvest barn thing every year,” he explained. “It’s a costume thing and…hey! You could wear that! It would be perfect. My gramma would love it.”

  “Oh, no!” Aspen sighed. “This was a one-time thing for me.”

  “But you look so cute…with your pink butt and all,” he said. He reached out, scratching behind one of her ears.

  Did he really think she looked cute? Aspen felt a smile finally spread across her face.

  “It’s this coming Saturday?” she asked.

  “Why? Do you already have something going on?” He looked genuinely disappointed, and it caused Aspen’s heart to flutter.

  “Nope. Not at all.” She smiled at him, and he nodded.

  “Good! I’ll pick you up at five. Gramma serves tons of food, so don’t eat before.”

  “Okay,” Aspen said.

  “You can dress up however you want. There’s no theme or nothing. And you really can wear this if you want.”

  Aspen giggled, delighted by his bad grammar. “I’m not wearing this,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Well, I don’t see why not…but it’s up to you. I’ll see you at five then?”

  “Yeah. That would be great.”
/>   “I’ll even bring your clock for you. That way you don’t have to come down to the shop.” He was so handsome—owned such a good sense of humor. “I’ll see you at five on Saturday…if not before. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Aspen said.

  He turned to leave. “Oh, by the way,” he began, turning back to her, “if you ever need your tummy scratched…just let me know.” He winked and sauntered off toward the register.

  Aspen’s mouth dropped open in delighted astonishment. What a flirt! She loved it. She loved him! No, wait—she didn’t love a man she barely knew. No. Of course not.

  She watched Rake go to the register and pay for the book. He turned and lifted his chin in a “see you later” nod, and Aspen waved a large pink paw in return. She sighed once he’d exited the store and immediately began looking around for Gina. Aspen saw her, hiding at the back of the biographies bookcase. Her attention seemed to be arrested by something near the front of the store. Aspen followed Gina’s gaze to see a very handsome UPS man, all swathed in warm brown, hand Michael a clipboard. Michael signed something quickly and handed the clipboard back to the handsome UPS man.

  It’s him! Gina mouthed to Aspen. The hot one!

  As inconspicuously as possible, Aspen made her way to the biography section.

  “He’s the one from my mom’s house…right here…right in your very own bookstore!” Gina exclaimed in a whisper.

  “Well, have at him!” Aspen said.

  Gina frowned and scolded, “He’s a man…not a shish kebab!”

  “He is handsome,” Aspen whispered. And he was handsome. He was tall, owned wavy light brown hair, and was built almost as well as Rake Locker—but not quite.

  “He’s a dream!” Gina sighed.

  Aspen watched with Gina as the attractive UPS man left the store. Gina sighed, her shoulders sagging.

  “Did your bull-riding watchmaker ask you out?” Gina asked. It was obvious she didn’t want to talk about her dreamy UPS man. Aspen wanted to offer support—encourage her friend to run out and talk to the guy. But she knew Gina too well, and she wasn’t ready.

  “He did, actually,” Aspen said.

  Gina’s face immediately lit up, sincere joy apparent in her flashing blue-green eyes. “See? He likes you!” Gina exclaimed. “And I’m sure this costume was your ace in the hole.”

  “Oh, I’m sure!”

  “No, I’m serious!” Gina assured her. “You should’ve seen his face when you had your big pink doggy fanny sticking out from under that table. I promise you…it was your ace.”

  “Well, he’s taking me to a costume party at his grandparents’ house, and I’m certainly not going as Willamina Dog,” Aspen said.

  “You should borrow my fairy costume!” Gina suggested.

  “Are you kidding? I’d look like an idiot!” Aspen giggled.

  “You’d look fabulous! And besides…you can’t wear that dumb Snow White costume again. You’d be better off going in this.” Gina took hold of the floppy pink ears on either side of Aspen’s head. “And believe me, you may be cute in this…but it certainly won’t inspire him take you in his arms and kiss your lips off.”

  “Aspen!” Michael scolded.

  Aspen and Gina both startled at his sudden appearance.

  “Dude!” Gina exclaimed. “You’re like an evil little gnome or something.”

  “Get back to work, Aspen,” Michael said, glaring at Gina. “Otherwise you can work all weekend.”

  “I’m going to change right now, Michael,” Aspen said. She nodded to Gina and mouthed, I’ll see you later.

  As Aspen stepped out of the Willamina Dog costume, she smiled. Rake Locker had asked her out again! She tried not to get overly excited—tried to remember the way the little girl’s mother had eyed Rake. He seemed nice, polite, and as charming as any fictional hero she’d ever read about. It would go badly—she knew it would. Yet something inside her resisted the truth—and couldn’t resist him.

  She thought of the way he’d freaked out Michael—shut him right up. A tingling thrill ran through her at the thought of his smile—the way he’d smiled at her when she first crawled out from under the table wearing the dog costume. Rake Locker would probably turn out to be the biggest jerk she’d ever known. Still, as she remembered the kiss he’d taken from her the morning after their first date, she knew she couldn’t give him up—yet.

  

  “How was your lunch?” his grandmother asked as Rake entered the Clock Shop through the front door.

  “Great,” Rake told her, heading back toward the workshop.

  “That’s nice, dear,” she said.

  Rake paused at the front desk, leaned on it for a moment, and smiled at his grandmother. “I picked up a book for Elena.” He plopped the Willamina Dog and the Wobbly Wood book down on the counter.

  “Oh, she’ll love it!” Charlotte Locker exclaimed. She turned the book toward herself and opened it up. As she leafed through it, she asked, “Have you decided who you’re bringing to the party on Saturday?”

  Rake nodded. “Yep. Do you remember the girl who brought in Guy Falls’s old clock?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes! She’s lovely. Just lovely!” Rake watched as understanding washed over her. “Are you bringing her? What was her name again? Something rather unusual, wasn’t it?”

  “Aspen,” Rake said.

  “Oh, that’s right. Well, I’m sure she’ll be a wonderful companion for the evening.”

  “I’m sure she will,” Rake said. He leaned forward, kissing his grandma on one soft, wrinkled cheek. “I’ll be in the back.”

  “All right, sweetie,” Charlotte said as she continued to leaf through the Willamina Dog book.

  Rake grabbed a bottled water from the small fridge in the workshop. He sat down to work on the pocket watch he’d been working on before he’d left to run over to the Book Nook and ask Aspen to the barn party.

  He had trouble getting back to work, however, for the vision of Aspen Falls dressed in that comical pink dog costume lingered in the forefront of his mind. Setting the bottled water on the floor next to him, he reached over and picked up the book he’d had his mother check out of the library for him.

  Flipping to page 168, he read, “Hence, the time of aspen befell them, and winter’s descending was near, so the moon wove his fingers of moonbeams through the gold amidst mountain’s hair.”

  Rake smiled, shook his head, and put the book aside once more. After hearing Aspen recite it, he’d wanted to read the poem again, though there was really no point. He wasn’t about to get serious with anybody—even a girl as sweet as Aspen Falls. Nope! Rake Locker understood women all too well. There wasn’t anything redeeming about most of them. Still, Aspen was pretty—“lovely,” as his grandmother had put it—and she was fun. There wasn’t anything wrong with having a little fun. Was there?

  Rake picked up the watchmaker’s loupe he’d been using before lunch and fit it to his eye socket. He studied the winding wheel and click in Mr. Romero’s antique pocket watch.

  “Nope,” he mumbled as he began to work. “Nothing wrong with just having a little fun. Nothing…what…so…ever.” He worked for a moment and held his breath as he checked the hairspring. Exhaling, he muttered, “And the time of Aspen falls.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Calm down, Aspen!” Gina demanded. “You’re gonna get all upset and throw up, and then he won’t ever want to see you again…let alone kiss you!”

  Aspen inhaled a deep breath, slowly exhaling, trying to calm herself. She studied her reflection in the mirror. Her shoulders, arms, and cheeks shimmered with the gold sparkle dust she’d smoothed over her skin. Her hair hung in long, soft waves, woven with lengths of orange, olive, and gold ribbon. Gina had placed several small artificial tiger lilies throughout her hair too. The costume she’d borrowed from Gina was tailored from lengths and layers of orange, olive, and brown tulle, fitted over a gold satin corset-type bodice and skirt. Streamers of tulle, twisted together with ribbon of th
e same colors, hung from gold bracelets at her upper arm and above her elbow. Her wings were a glittery gold, orange, and green; Gina had picked up a new pair at the costume store since she’d ruined hers standing too near a fireplace the year before. The costume was gorgeous! Still, Aspen shook her head with disappointment.

  “I look ridiculous!” she groaned. “This costume works way better on you! I should’ve stuck with my Snow White outfit.”

  “Are you kidding? That thing looks like it’s ready for the ragbag, Aspen,” Gina said. She primped Aspen’s hair for a moment, standing behind Aspen and gazing in the mirror at her friend’s reflection. “And your makeup is to die for! Even if I do say so myself.”

  Aspen smiled. Her favorite thing about the costume was Gina’s makeup application. The iridescent green and orange eye shadow, perfectly accentuated by the dark brown eyeliner and black “eyelash” lines gliding up from the outer corner of her eye toward her brow, did give her a fantastically glamorous appearance. Aspen fancied her green eyes flashed emerald, skillfully embellished by the dark shades of the makeup. The tiny orange and green rhinestone clusters Aspen had used corn syrup to adhere to her temples gave Gina’s original eye makeup job the faultless finishing touch. Brownish-orange blush, swept up from her cheekbones to her temples, gave the contours of her face a more angular appearance, and the metallic chocolate hue of her lipstick completed the look of a magical autumn fairy.

 

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