Bridget scrolled through her phone. “Things are already coming up for the Claverley Rodeo on Facebook and Instagram. It’s going to be hard to avoid.”
Flutters of panic rose up in Krista but her bossy, well-meaning sister was not going to fluster her. “It’s not like that crowd in Toronto is searching up a rodeo, anyway.”
Bridget pulled a face. “No, but they will hunt you up.”
“I’m not on social media, so there’s no linking back to me. Anyway, Will shies away from the media spotlight. That’s the reason he wants me to run interference. So he can sneak away from it all.” He actually hadn’t said that, but it was a safe assumption.
“You might not be on social media, but Laura and Alyssa are,” Bridget reminded her. “Krista, I’m worried that one wrong photo will bust it wide open for you again, except this time your Spirit Lake rodeo friends will be dragged into it.”
“Laura will be on her honeymoon, and Alyssa and I aren’t all that close. I will talk to Will and explain the situation, if I have to. Okay?”
Bridget didn’t seem convinced, but Krista had quieted her for the moment. She enjoyed a breath. “Can I now enjoy the rest of the evening with my two favorite sisters?”
Bridget snuggled down into the patio cushions, but Mara stayed upright. Her eyes were thoughtful and penetrating when she turned them to Krista. Uh-oh.
“Wasn’t Will Claverley the one you once asked out and he refused?”
Bridget shot to full alert. “What’s this?”
Mara gestured to Krista to take the stage, which she grudgingly did. “It was a lifetime ago. I was sixteen. He was twenty.”
Bridget gasped. “You asked out a twenty-year-old when you were only sixteen? Did Mom know?”
And this was exactly why she’d sworn Mara to secrecy. “No! Anyway, considering I was old enough to have a driver’s license, I was old enough to date a guy four years older than me.”
Bridget snorted her disagreement but circled her hand for Krista to continue. “It was over at Laura’s place. I’d had a couple of drinks, and he was older and good-looking, and so I went for it. He said, ‘I appreciate you thinking of me that way, but I don’t see us going anywhere, thank you.’ And that was that.”
“Is that what he said?” Bridget asked.
“Word for word.”
“Ten years later and you remember it verbatim,” Mara remarked, licking her lips after her last bite of pie.
Except her remarks weren’t ever just remarks. They went soul deep. That probably accounted for her small but very dedicated client base. She was like a wise oracle that people pilgrimaged to. It didn’t help that she also dispensed her wisdom to Krista when it wasn’t asked for.
“What can I say? It was classic.”
“And,” Bridget said, “it was probably the only rejection you ever got.”
She was right. Krista had never had to ask for a date. More to the point, she’d never felt as compelled to ask a guy out as much as she had with Will. And that seemed to be the point Mara was driving at.
“Are you saying that I’m doing this so I can finally date the guy who rejected me? Strike him from my bucket list?”
Mara tilted her head, a small gesture that made both sisters suck in their breath. It was her signature “gotcha” move—quiet but deadly.
“It’s not true,” Krista said. “No way. Because we already hashed it out. We both agreed that opposites might attract but never last. And if there were ever two opposites, it’s him and me.”
Bridget turned to Mara. “I do believe our little sister has her head screwed on straight.”
“Yes,” Mara said, “but even Krista knows that the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“All this enterprising little heart wants,” Krista emphasized, “is more clients. That’s it.” She paused. “And for Will to raise a ton of money for the children’s charity.” She gave it more thought. “And the rodeo’s general success because it’ll be good for Penny’s. Right, Bridget?”
She pretended not to notice the exchange of raised eyebrows between her sisters. “See? Everyone’s hearts are perfectly aligned.”
* * *
WILL WOKE TO sunlight busting through the east window of Harry’s House, the name the Claverleys gave to the modified double garage their old hired man had fashioned for himself. When he’d moved into Spirit Lake a few years ago, it had stood idle until Keith had moved in temporarily with his bride. Very temporarily. She’d been pregnant when they married and was gone six months after Austin was born.
Keith and Austin had moved into the main house with their parents. So Harry’s had become Will’s. It would do until he’d reason to expand. He rubbed his bare feet together. Four days since the pedicure and his feet were still as soft as little Austin’s. He didn’t know a grown-up’s feet could feel so good. Figured once a man had calluses you kept them, like lines on your face.
He also didn’t think his feet had ever been touched as much, even by himself. When Krista had squirted hay-smelling lotion on her hands and begun massaging his feet, it was all he could do not to pass out from pleasure. She’d pressed her thumbs down the arches, tugged on his toes, rotated his ankle joints.
I usually go up to the knee, she’d said, but I can stick to your feet if that makes you more comfortable.
What made him uncomfortable was how comfortable her hands on his feet felt.
They would never be the same again.
Dana knocked on the side door. He could tell it was her from the soft, quick pattern. He swung out of bed and his feet hit the laminate. “Get used to it,” he ordered them. He called “Come in” as he headed to the bathroom in his pajama shorts.
“Why aren’t you up and at it?” she barked as he closed the bathroom door. “I’m the one who had to load the posts and drive over. You just had to get dressed, maybe get some eggs in you.”
“Good morning to you, too. I had to pull a calf at two this morning.”
“That’s what you get for late calving. Cuts into time for fencing and seeding.”
Will flushed the toilet in answer. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he smelled coffee. He spotted the red container on his nightstand. “By Tim Hortons already?”
“Up at the crack of dawn.”
“Should’ve slept longer and then you wouldn’t have needed the coffee,” Will said and crossed past her to his chest of drawers. Harry’s, actually, but he’d had no room for it at the seniors’ lodge. Passed from one bachelor to the next. Depressing.
Dana shifted from one booted foot to the other. “I got the coffee because I kinda overreacted about the rodeo gig the other day. I feel bad, I can do it.”
He couldn’t remember the last time Dana had ever felt bad about anything she’d done to him. It always fell into the for-your-own-good category. He dug out a pair of underwear and socks, located his jeans on the back of the lone chair.
Will tossed his clothes on the bed and whirled his finger around to indicate she ought to turn away. She complied with an eye roll.
“Actually, don’t worry about it. I figured something out.” Will noticed his socks had a hole in the right heel and the big toe of his left wouldn’t make it through the day. His pampered skin would rub on the sole of his boot, and he’d have blisters and blood by day’s end. With Krista’s reprimand about his feet deserving care still ringing in his ears, he rooted through his drawer for a brand-new pair he’d been saving for a special occasion. “I found someone else.”
“To be your fake girlfriend? Who?”
It wasn’t a secret. Krista had probably told her family already. Will had put off telling his. Krista Montomgery had a way of riling up the Claverleys. Typically, Laura would sing Krista’s praises, his mother would give a dismissive comment, Laura would retaliate, Keith would defend their mother, and all the while he and his dad would keep their head
s down. If Dana found out first, he’d never hear the end of it.
Will peeled off the stickers and snapped the new socks apart. “I should probably give my folks the heads up first.” And because Dana would say that he’d shared plenty of things with her before informing his parents, he quickly added, “Anyway it’s not as if I pried into who you are after.”
“That’s different,” Dana said over her shoulder. “This is somebody you’re not wanting to have a relationship with.”
“All the more reason it doesn’t matter who it is.” He put on a sock and reached for the other. The door opened and in walked Keith, Austin riding on his arm. He took a look at the scene and scowled. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes,” Will said. “Me getting dressed. Do you mind?”
“We’re fencing along our line this morning, and he’s taking all day,” Dana said in a rush. “Are you decent yet?”
Will checked his phone. “Seven twelve is not all day. And I’m putting pants on.”
Dana sidled up to Austin. “Good morning, little man,” she cooed. “You ready to play?”
“He should be,” Keith said. “Caught him climbing the safety gate on the stairs.” He groaned. “It’s like being on suicide watch.”
Austin pitched himself forward into Dana’s waiting hands. She smacked a kiss on his chubby cheeks. He wiggled down and beelined for Will’s hot coffee. Practiced, Will swept it away and replaced it with a small chip bag. Austin plunked down on his bum and set to exploring its crinkliness and potential to still have crumbs.
With Will more-or-less presentable, Dana shifted to watch Austin, while also speaking to Keith. “Show him how to use the stairs properly,” Dana said.
“How? He’ll go head over heels and crack his head open,” Keith predicted.
“Get him to crawl backward on his stomach.”
“Trust her,” Will said. Dana was the oldest of five kids. Had practically raised the youngest two when her mom had died in a car crash.
“Austin and I can demonstrate for you tonight,” Dana said to Keith. “When are you back?”
Keith did day runs for a local delivery company. “Probably no later than three. Thanks, Dana. I’d appreciate that.” He plucked up Austin, who clutched Will’s bag for all it was worth. “Nice one, Uncle Will. I buy him a fifty-dollar farm set and you win with a piece of garbage.”
On his way out, Keith said to Dana, “See you later,” and to Will, “Get a shirt on.” Will was about to fire off a wisecrack when he caught sight of Dana’s expression as she watched Keith leave.
No.
Her dreamy smile faded as she took in his expression.
“Keith?” he whispered.
“Don’t you dare breathe a single word.”
Will raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t. Just don’t go setting yourself on fire.”
She yanked on her ponytail. “I feel as if I am now that you figured it out.”
“Not a word. I never would’ve guessed you and Keith—”
“You don’t have to say it. I’m not his type. I’m too tall, too flat, and my eyes aren’t blue. I don’t like gifts. I’m not a girly girl. We agree on farming but what does it matter when we each can run our own? Believe me, I’ve hashed my stupidity out in my mind a thousand times over. But I love him, and he doesn’t have a clue. And—” she glared at him “—he never will.”
Dana was wild-eyed and Will wished things could be different for her, for Keith. He slung his arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry my brother is as dumb as those posts you hauled over. At least, you got me.”
Dana did exactly as he’d hoped. She screwed up her face in revulsion, and pushed him away. “Keith’s right. Get a shirt on.”
* * *
“YOU SHOULD GO with a full updo,” Alyssa told Laura. “You’ve got the hair for it, and when will you ever get the chance again?”
Laura turned from her reflection in the spa mirror to Krista. “What do you think?”
Krista hated the updo she’d created. Yes, it had taken a full hour to perfect every twist and exact placement of the flowery pins. Yes, it was a phenomenal hairstyle that she’d snapped photos to upload onto her website. But it wasn’t Laura. It wasn’t the country girl with thick waves lapping her shoulders, the sun catching her dark red glints amid the thick brown. Will’s hair.
But Alyssa was right. When in her life would Laura ever dress like this again? Both sets of eyes were fastened on her. Laura’s, uncertain and Alyssa’s, challenging.
Krista took a deep breath and plunged in. “I think that this is a once-in-a-lifetime shot at having hair that’s an absolute showstopper. I also think that you’ll come down the aisle and Ryan won’t know who he’s marrying because you’ll look so different from the real you. So this is your choice. Be stunning or be real.”
“Be stunning,” Alyssa said. “You can be real every other day of your life. Ryan will marry you anyway. As your maid of honor, trust me on this.”
Laura patted her upsweep of curls, turned this way and that, her mouth twisting as much as her head.
“And the photographs will be forever,” Alyssa said. “When your hair is back in a scrunchie and unwashed, you’ll be able to glance at the photo of your wedding and remember how you once shone.”
“Is there something in-between?” Laura asked Krista. “Something real but different?”
“Of course,” Krista said. “There’s a half-do. Lift up half your hair and let the rest fall free. Or we could let it all down and bling it up or—”
“No, no, no.” Alyssa was shaking her head. “Halfway says nothing at all.”
Except halfway defined Laura. She was the peacemaker among the circle of friends. When they were teenagers, Krista would’ve been as frustrated as Alyssa with Laura’s hesitancy. Battered by sharp-tongued colleagues and so-called friends, she now appreciated Laura’s tact. Decided to practice it.
“How about we try it first?”
Laura’s lines of distress lightened.
“Sure, girl,” Alyssa said with a tight smile. “Let’s do it your way and see how that turns out.”
Krista gritted her teeth against Alyssa’s sarcasm. Laura snuck Krista a pleading look and Krista gave her a reassuring smile. After all, she wasn’t the one who had Mean Girl for her maid of honor.
“Here,” Alyssa said, crowding against Krista. “Let me take a few pics before you destroy it.”
People who say painful things are in pain themselves. You can’t control what people say but you can control your response. Krista reminded herself of these truisms Mara had taught her when dealing with Phillip. But she was still annoyed at Alyssa for intruding on Krista’s private evening with Laura. Krista had brought munchies and the makings for virgin daiquiris, but then Alyssa had asked Laura if she could come. And, of course, how could Krista refuse? Wasn’t Alyssa a friend, too?
But their friendship skated on thin ice. In their final year of high school, Alyssa presented Krista with a business plan to launch their own media marketing company based in Spirit Lake. Krista still remembered the thick cardstock paper Alyssa had printed the plan up on, complete with Roman numerals for headings and subtitles like Executive Summary and Revenue Projections. And at the top of each page, a logo with the initials of their first names entwined. KA Promotions. Instagram and Pinterest had launched that year, and both Krista and Alyssa were avid users. It was like a secret girls’ club between them as they snapped photos, posted, followed, linked, liked, loved, commented.
But Krista had participated for fun. Still, she read the proposal and couldn’t disagree with its contents, so she’d agreed to become a partner. Eight months later, Krista got an offer to study makeup and costumes in Vancouver, and signed over the company to Alyssa.
You’re a flake, Alyssa had pronounced and set about growing her company.
While Krista...well, Krista had proven Alyssa right. She’d bounced around jobs and places. And whenever she’d bounced back to Spirit Lake, Alyssa would find a way to remind her of the opportunity she’d missed. Once, three years ago when Krista was between both jobs and places, Alyssa had offered her a position as an employee. By then, Krista had discovered at least what she didn’t want, and declined. Have it your way, Alyssa fired back. It was their last private conversation.
Alyssa’s phone buzzed and a soft smile appeared. “Your big brother,” she said to Laura, “has a question about the ride.”
Krista unwound Laura’s hair and was about to ask Alyssa how her nephew was doing when Alyssa added, “I’m also handling all the marketing and promotions for the rodeo.”
“That’s awesome,” Krista said. “The rodeo must be a great gig for you. You know so much about it.”
Alyssa scowled. “Are you saying I won the contract because of my relationship with the family? A fair amount of your business has come your way because of a Claverley.”
Krista had only meant that Alyssa’s ranching background made her a natural fit, but Alyssa seemed determined to misinterpret everything. “True,” Krista muttered, “true.” And kept her focus on touching up Laura’s thick, russet waves.
Alyssa gave a satisfied smirk at Krista’s humbleness. “Here’s what Will texted. ‘Why photos of me?’” Alyssa giggled. “He’s so silly.” While Alyssa texted a reply, Laura gave Krista an anguished look of sympathy.
Krista shrugged. She’d become good at masking her hurt. Laura turned to Alyssa. “So...uh, have you and Will gone out?” Will wasn’t the only Claverley aware of Alyssa’s crush. “Not that it’s any of my business,” she added hurriedly. Despite her casual tone, her fingers were gripping the chair arms.
“Waiting for him,” Alyssa said. “It’s not as if I haven’t dropped hints.” She waggled her phone. “Just suggested that we meet for coffee to talk.”
“Will never gets the hint,” Laura said, her grip relaxing. “I bet he’s never asked a girl out, probably because he doesn’t have to.”
Her Rodeo Rancher Page 4
