"I can."
She looked up at him this time, and he could see the protest on her lips, but someone called out to her, and a woman surrounded by three identical young boys stopped to talk. Anna turned sideways to speak to her.
The sun slanting down highlighted the gold in Anna's hair, and she tucked some loose strands behind her ear.
For a moment, he got lost in the past.
During that first magical semester, they enjoyed an Indian summer and October came with long stretches of warm days. He'd wheedled until Anna agreed to a picnic in the quad. The sturdy oaks above their blanket were a canopy of orange and yellow leaves. Backpacks forgotten on the grass nearby, Anna was the only thing he could see.
He was hungover. That was nothing new.
The bright autumn sunlight only made his piercing headache worse. His shades helped, and an added benefit was the fact that they hid his bloodshot eyes.
But none of that mattered, because he was with Anna. Six week in to the semester, and he knew. He wanted to be with her for the rest of his life.
"What'd you get on Professor Dee's test?" she asked.
"C. You get an A?" It wasn't really a guess—she'd gotten A's on every quiz. He knew because they sat together. The first time he'd sat on the front row. Ever. Even in elementary school he'd been a back-row kid.
And while Anna stayed wrapped up in the lectures, he stayed wrapped up in her.
"You should think about coming to study group." She bumped his shoulder, a friendly tap. "It's every Wednesday night."
He shrugged, smiling goofily down on her. "It's not my scene."
He could pull a C or maybe even a B just by coasting—and that was good enough for him. College was for fun and partying—and when he got around to it, studying. As little as he could get away with.
She dug into the small ice chest he'd bummed off a friend two apartments over. He'd spent twenty minutes this morning scouring it to get rid of the stench of alcohol.
"I can't believe you planned this." She was effervescent as she pulled out the two sandwiches and bags of potato chips he'd purchased at the caf before their ten a.m. class.
He couldn't believe it either. His usual m.o. with girls was hooking up at a party.
He couldn't even say he'd had a real first date.
But with Anna... he wanted it all.
She leaned forward, and her hair fell across his shoulder, sending sparks every which way.
"So..." he started.
She tilted her chin up, and they were only inches away. If he leaned in—and if she didn't turn away—he could kiss her.
He wanted to kiss her.
But unlike all those one-night hookups that he could barely remember, something held him back.
"Do you want to go out with me Friday night?"
"Mr. Kelly!" Mikey's voice rang out and brought him back to the present. Thinking about Anna and what they'd shared probably wasn't the best idea. He still had to figure out how to get through the next few weeks of completing her kitchen when she didn't really want him there. And finish his apology.
The summer sun beat down on his head, and in jeans and a T-shirt, he wished for a pair of basketball shorts. He settled for taking a long swig from the plastic cup he'd filled with lemonade from a cooler beneath the pavilion.
Anna's eyes slid to him and away. And suddenly he couldn't take her suspicion and passive-aggressive treatment any longer. "What?" he demanded softly.
She shook her head, but her lips were pinched.
"Tell me."
She glanced toward her friends. He was aware of them listening in, but he didn't care.
"Your cup. It makes me think of..."
Of course. His drinking days and the fateful date. How many times had he filled countless cups like this from a keg?
Without a word, he took the cup and upended it in the grass behind the picnic table.
Her friends shared a glance. "What's that about?" Lila asked.
"I'm an alcoholic." He'd said it so many times, first in the recovery program and then as he'd worked to make amends with the twelve people on top of his list. "I've been clean for four years, six months and eleven days."
He looked straight at Anna. "But Anna doesn't trust that yet. So I don't mind proving it to her."
"Well you can't eat without a drink," Melody said. "You'll get dehydrated."
"Especially if you're eating Maude's jalapeño poppers," Lila said.
Not in the time it took him to finish his lunch, but it was nice that they cared. He tapped the half-full bottle of water he'd brought out of his truck earlier.
But Anna's eyes stuck on it as well. "Couldn't it be filled with something?"
Her words were tentative, almost as if she were afraid to speak them or maybe she didn't want to seem combative.
But she was talking to him. And she seemed more open than she had even yesterday before he'd messed everything up.
"Vodka," he said. It was clear and for the most part, didn't have a scent. "But it's not."
But he unscrewed the top and dumped the water where he'd just dumped the lemonade.
"Umm..." Melody said.
"It's 90 degrees out," Lila said.
"And you got jalapeños," Mikey said helpfully.
But his eyes were on Anna. He shrugged. "I'll live." It would be worth it if this stunt would get her one step closer to trusting him.
He munched on one of the breaded jalapeño bites. They weren't that spicy.
Until he swallowed.
And then fire burst on the back of his tongue and down his throat. Even his esophagus felt singed.
Mikey looked up at him, concerned. "Are you okay?"
The skin of his face started to burn even as his eyes watered.
"Yeughp." His affirmation sounded more like a croak than a word, so he tried clearing his throat. "Yes," he whispered. There. See, he could still talk.
Anna's friends' faces had creased with concern. He had no idea what Anna's face looked like—he wouldn't look at her, not now, acting like the idiot he was.
Maybe if he ate something else, it would help douse the fire. He had a small roll on his plate. Blindly, he reached for it and popped it in his burning mouth.
Too late, he realized it was another popper. It would be rude to spit it out, so he barely crunched into it and then swallowed.
Started coughing.
"Kelly."
That was Anna's voice, but he couldn't see her through the tears in his eyes.
Something cool and wet was pressed into his hand, and he didn't even think. He just drank, gulping the water.
When the water bottle Anna had thrust at him was empty and Mikey had run off for another one and returned, Kelly took the second bottle and upended it over his head, cooling his burning face and neck.
Finally blinking to clear his vision, with the fire in his mouth reduced to coals, he looked across the table.
Melody and Lila wore matching expressions of concern. Mikey, at his elbow, wore the same.
But it was Anna that he couldn't look away from.
She was smiling.
* * *
Later, when the table had been cleared and Melody and Lila had gone, Anna lingered with Kelly at the picnic table. Mikey ran around with his friends in an impromptu soccer game, and Gina had gone home with her friend for a nap.
Clouds passed over the sun, dappling them with shade.
Anna leaned an elbow on the table. Kelly had shifted to stretch one long leg along the picnic bench, while the other tapped the ground. She remembered him always full of energy, always drumming fingers on the top of the desk or bouncing his knee beneath.
Even though his energy was the same, if she looked closer, the manic light in his eyes wasn't there anymore. He seemed more at peace with himself.
It made him even more dangerous.
"My home church in Oklahoma City is bigger," he was saying, his eyes following the soccer game. "The singles group usually has their own even
ts, but I don't go all that often."
"Why not?"
His eyes shifted to hers. "It's... it can be... let's just say there are lots of women in the singles group looking to change their status."
Ah. He was trying to be polite and not come out and say that it was a meat market.
She shifted on the bench, pretending the stone was making her uncomfortable, but it was more the rock in her gut that provided discomfort. She was trying—and failing—not to imagine Kelly in the dating pool.
Which was ridiculous, because she had no claim on him and no business even thinking that she might.
He didn't seem to register her discomfort as he gazed at the families mingling. "This is... it's nice."
"Some families come and go," she said, with a silent but stern reminder to herself about city boys. "It's harder to make a living in a small town. Some families don't like the differences from the city." Or some men.
"Hmm."
He'd tilted his head to one side, considering her words. She remembered that about him, how he'd always listened to her with his full attention.
"What?" she asked.
He shrugged slightly. "Seems like there'd be room for a contractor or a builder in town. I've had several folks asking me if I was planning to stay, looking for work to be done on their homes or businesses."
Her stomach swooped low at the thought of Kelly staying. Making his life here.
But he very clearly hadn't said he was staying.
Now she was the one who focused on Mikey playing soccer. "You'd probably go crazy after a month here. There isn't much to do, no nightlife."
And the old Kelly she remembered had been all about the action.
"That's not really my scene anymore."
His slow words—and the memory of another time he'd spoken about his scene—drew her gaze reluctantly back to him.
Caught in the intensity of those toffee eyes, she couldn't make her voice work, so she nodded instead.
"Back then, I was looking for what I needed in all the wrong places," he went on. His eyes had gone shadowed. "But you might be surprised at the things I'm looking for now."
His words were too close to that talk he'd wanted to have the first night he'd appeared back in her life. She wasn't ready yet.
She cleared her throat. "So... what about your friend Tim? How do you know each other?"
At first glance, Kelly and Tim were different. Kelly was mostly clean cut, except for the long hair that teased at his collar. And Tim was... Tim. With his tattoos and piercings and the attitude she'd caught from his muttered words.
"I met Tim about eighteen months ago at—well, I guess that's his story to tell. He's worked with me off and on. He's got some things still going on in his life that... again, that's his business. But I figure the guy deserves a second chance. Everyone does, right?"
She wished she could agree, but she wasn't so sure.
After Kelly's easy admission today about the problems he'd had in the past, the way he'd said he wouldn't drink anything to prove to her he wasn't drinking alcohol...
It had muddled her thinking. She'd put Kelly into a box labeled bad news and these new revelations kept popping the lid open.
She'd wanted to keep him solidly in the past.
But he refused to stay there.
Did he want a second chance at friendship? At something more?
It was frightening to think about.
He'd already opened her eyes that Mikey might need more in his life than she could give alone.
Did she want her eyes opened that there might be something missing in her life too?
6
"Come on, come on."
Three days after the church picnic, Anna cranked the engine in her extended cab Ford pickup.
But it only clicked. Click, click, click.
Nothing.
"Mo-om, I'm gonna be late for practice!" Mikey's chin was on the back of her seat, his baseball cap skewed to one side. Gina kicked the seat behind her, right at Anna's lower back, but at least she wasn't complaining.
The humid air inside the cab of the truck was a sweltering oven. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the windshield and baked Anna's tension up a level higher.
"Mo-om!"
"Honey, I'm doing everything I can."
She popped the hood and got out. Moved around the front of the truck to stare at the engine. What was she doing? She didn't know anything about the mechanics of an engine.
It was too late to call Lila or Melody. By the time one of them came out to get them and then drove back to town, Mikey would have missed his practice.
"Problem?"
She whirled at Kelly's voice, heart pounding at the unexpected presence. She'd thought he was finishing up in the kitchen, around the far side of the house.
"Mr. Kelly!" Mikey must have crawled over the front seat, because he was leaning halfway out the driver's side window. "Our truck won't start."
"Uh oh. Want me to give it a listen?"
She sighed but figured he wasn't going away, so she brushed past him and got back in the truck. She didn't bother closing the door. Mikey scooted into the passenger seat. She turned the keys again, and again it just click, click, clicked.
From where he'd been bent over the engine, Kelly leaned around and waved for her to stop.
"Sounds like the battery," Kelly said.
"But, Mom, my practice..."
"You need to get to town?"
Anna stifled a second sigh as she looked between Mikey, who was so disappointed about missing his practice, and Kelly, who watched her with an expectant look on his face.
"Yes, we need to get to town."
He nodded.
Waited.
She said nothing.
"It's okay to ask for help." The words emerged straight-faced, but when her chin jerked up, it was clear to see the spark in his eyes.
"It's taken me awhile to learn..." he continued. And raised his eyebrows, a clear challenge.
She stifled the growl that wanted to emerge.
Mikey's quiet, "Mo-om..." made her back teeth clench.
Fine.
"Would you please drive me and the kids into town?" She might have gritted the words out from between her teeth, but she'd gotten them out.
But if he said one mocking thing...
"Glad to," was his quiet, pleased response. "I'll fire up the truck."
Mikey was already jumping out of the cab.
"Honey, grab your mitt."
"Oh, yeah!"
Mikey scrambled back up into the truck, and she reached inside for her purse and helped Gina out.
Rounding the house, she saw that Kelly had quickly sealed up the silver toolbox attached to the truckbed and closed the tailgate as the kids sprinted up to him.
"The inside is a bit of a mess. You'll have to pretend it isn't there."
Reluctantly curious, she opened the passenger door. The kids scrambled over the seat and rushed to buckle up in the back. The interior of his truck was probably cleaner than hers but boasted several fast food wrappers and a T-shirt crumpled next to the center console, where a notepad and what looked like outgoing bills made a messy pile.
It seemed like he was living out of his truck. And it was a reminder that he was only in town to work on her kitchen. He wasn't staying.
Kelly seemed to sense her hesitation. Their eyes met over the center console as she climbed in the passenger seat. Things had changed between them at the picnic on Sunday afternoon.
And she didn't know if she was ready for that.
* * *
They arrived at the baseball park that had been apparently been built by a rancher on his property. Nothing like the huge parks Kelly was used to in Oklahoma City, where multiple games and practices would go on at once.
Anna stood in the V of the open truck door and the cab, watching Mikey as he ran off to join his teammates.
She moved away momentarily to talk to another mom, gesticulating. With her back to him
, he couldn't tell what she was saying. Didn't stop him from admiring the way her worn-out jeans hugged her curves.
She got back in the truck, the tense set of her shoulders betraying her.
"Mom, I want ice cream!" Gina said from the backseat.
"Maybe later, honey."
Maybe if he weren't here...?
She flicked a glance at Kelly. "I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be able to run me to the auto parts store? The nearest one is in Weatherford."
Stuck in the truck with Anna for another hour and a half?
"What about Mikey?"
"His friend's mom agreed to have him over. We can pick him up on our way home."
"In that case, I don't mind."
It was an understatement.
Those hours they'd spent talking Sunday afternoon had opened a door between them.
She'd stopped avoiding him. Oh, she didn't seek him out, but when she'd passed him on the way to the barn on Monday, she'd actually stopped and talked to him. Tim had been there, and she'd been friendly with the both of them.
She'd brought out some sweet tea late yesterday afternoon, claiming she had extra.
He'd been grateful for the chance to talk to her, even if it was about how the kitchen was progressing and whether they had a chance of getting any rain tonight.
And now this. He'd been teasing her earlier about asking for help, but he sensed that the independence he'd recognized from their college days had reared its head after Ted's death. He'd run into Melody at the coffee shop, and after he'd pried, she'd shared a little about how Anna had closed off, distanced herself for months until the grief had waned a bit.
He turned the truck toward the bigger town—still nothing like Oklahoma City or the even bigger Dallas, the familiar feel of tires on freeway soothing to him. The AC hummed, keeping them icy cool.
"You gonna fix the truck, Mommy?" Gina piped from the backseat.
"Umm..." She slid a glance to him. "I might have to break down and call Lucy." She turned to him. "She's the local mechanic."
A woman mechanic? Interesting. He kept his gaze on the highway. "Battery isn't hard to fix. Disconnect the old one and connect the new one. If it's something more than that, it's outta my league."
Cowgirl for Keeps Page 5
