She shouldn't but... she slipped inside to put on her sneakers and joined him out front.
Their shoulders brushed as they sat side-by-side on his tailgate, legs dangling into open space.
She was halfway through her burger, eyes closed at the rich, fatty taste—a rare treat for her, as she'd been in training for years and needed to eat healthy foods—when Matt bumped her shoulder.
"If you have to go through all that stuff, what would it hurt to ask a friend for help?"
He meant himself.
She finished chewing her bite, cleared her throat. "It's my problem. Mine and Katie's. Besides, it's embarrassing."
She felt the movement of his shoulder at his shrug. "Well, now I know. So what's to stop from asking me to help, when you gals are ready to start cleaning out?"
She gave him a side-eye. "You want me to say ‘nothing,’ right?"
He kicked her sneaker this time. "I want to help. You need the help."
Yes, but she didn't need to spend more time with him. Even this, just a simple conversation over burgers, gave her a confusing mix of warm fuzzies in the pit of her stomach and a strange dread that he was going to suddenly hate her when his memories returned. Warm and cold at the same time.
Spending time with Matt was a recipe for disaster, wasn't it?
Chapter 6
"What about this one?"
Two weeks after Matt's offer, Kelsey looked up from the cardboard box of various chipped pieces a china tea set to see Katie holding a large canvas that had one of Kelsey’s earlier paintings on it. She must've been...a high school freshman when she'd painted it. She winced at the broad acrylic strokes that revealed two tulips and a daisy. It was pretty bad. Professor Bernard—her last art professor—must've been right about her lack of talent.
"Trash it," she said quickly.
"Aw, no way," Matt piped from across the room. She'd almost forgotten he was there, sitting on the floor and almost buried beneath a cascade of old magazines next to the family piano.
All right, she hadn't forgotten. It would be impossible to forget his presence whenever he was in the same room as her.
"If you don't want it,” he said, “I'll hang it in my bedroom."
"Nuh-uh." She couldn't imagine that awful thing hanging above his bed. She shivered with horror even thinking it. "It's trash."
"Your ma kept it," he said, oh so helpfully. "She musta seen something of value in it."
"She kept everything," Kelsey gestured to the clutter-filled room.
"I'll just set it over here while you two argue about it," Katie muttered. She leaned the painting against the far wall, in the roughly two feet of space they'd cleared since they'd started two hours ago.
This was their second official workday, cleaning out the house. Hoarder was a term Kelsey was coming to hate. Earlier, they'd unearthed a stack of used, washed Styrofoam dishes from some of the rare times they'd eaten out. Who would keep those? Trash, trash, trash.
Even with the windows open, the brisk autumn breeze wasn't cutting through the stale air inside.
On Sunday, things with Katie had come to a head. They'd argued for the fiftieth time about the dumpster rental-versus-look through it way of doing this and finally agreed on a compromise. Kelsey had rented the dumpster but agreed to a week of sorting before they trashed whatever was left. She knew her sister could use the money from whatever they found to put into the café—assuming there was anything of value in here. And if they got the house livable again, Katie would have the option to sell it once the probate settled and Kelsey was back in Houston.
Her stomach dropped at the thought of going back to the life she'd left behind, and she ducked her head on the pretense of sifting through the box to see if there was anything salvageable there.
She still didn't know whether she should take the assistant coach job. Running was her life, but did she want to coach? The last two weeks spending time with Matt had only confused things more.
After the surprise hamburger-tailgate date, he'd convinced her to visit him on the Triple H, and they'd spent hours riding the property. Matt claimed he was reacquainting himself with the land and the operations. She figured he just wanted to see her uncomfortable on the back of the horse. He'd grinned the whole time, watching her sit nervously atop the huge beast. He'd given her a gentle mare, and the pace had been plodding.
She'd admitted later—when she'd gotten off—that it had been fun. Kind of.
A couple of days later, he'd talked her into a movie night, and they'd curled up on the couch at his place and watched a late-night marathon of the Lord of the Rings movies.
She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder.
They'd attended Sunday morning worship together. Then they’d had a picnic with Scarlett and Carrie, who hadn’t spilled the details about their post-graduation breakup. Maybe she’d realized Kelsey's presence seemed to settle Matt somehow.
And when she'd let it slip that she and Katie were going to tackle Mama's junk, he'd shown up yesterday.
It was like being back in high school all over again.
Back then, she'd been so starved for attention... Her dad had abandoned the family when Kelsey had been too small to remember. It'd been Mama and the two girls, with Mama working sometimes two jobs until she'd saved up enough to buy into the small-town café. Mama had put her life into the café and made a decent living for the girls by the time they'd gotten to high school.
But she hadn't encouraged Kelsey's dreams of the Olympics, nor her interest in art. She'd told Kelsey she would be better off putting her efforts into something real. Like small town waitressing. It might not pay much, Mama would explain, but at least it was steady, honest work.
Running had been an escape for Kelsey. In middle school, she’d gone out for the track team. She’d been a natural. In high school, she’d had a coach that had pushed her and arranged for carpools with the other team parents when Mama had refused to cart Kelsey to meets. Thank God for her college coach and the scholarships she’d received.
Mama hadn't believed Kelsey could make it to the Olympics, not up until the international meet where she'd qualified. Having Mama in the stands at the Olympics had been bittersweet, a motivator for Kelsey. She'd needed to prove to Mama and to herself that she could medal, and she had.
But back in high school, she'd wanted college badly. Knew it was the stepping stone to her bigger dream. Her teachers and school counselor knew what Mama thought about college and had gently tried to temper Kelsey's expectations.
Matt had believed in her with an unshakable confidence. They'd started dating in the middle of her senior year, and he'd rained on her parched heart. He hadn't questioned her ability or her drive one bit.
And he had that same confidence in her now. She'd purposely avoided any mention of what she would do once things were finished with Katie. Or of their past. But he still seemed convinced that she could do whatever she set her mind to.
He still believed in her that much. But was he seeing the real her, the now her, or just living with the memories of what she'd been ten years ago?
She didn't know.
She decided the cheap plastic tea set was trash and walked out front to chunk it into the dumpster. That was one more cubit foot of space, at least.
Outside, she stood in the driveway and tried to breathe.
"She's having a hard time," Katie said quietly after Kelsey had disappeared outside.
"I know." Matt was no idiot, even if he didn't have all his memories.
He dug through the box, but it was full of awful Christmas sweaters, nothing hiding beneath. He shoved it across the floor to the pile they were making for Goodwill. Some of those garish sweaters might pull big bucks.
He looked around the room. They hadn't even made a dent. Kelsey was dealing with this mess now. Had dealt with it all during her growing-up years, and he'd had no idea. She'd never invited him home. Had she kept all her girlfriends at arm’s length too, embarrassed of her mom's hoarding? It m
ust've been awful.
Over the last week, he'd felt the distance Kelsey was trying to create between them, the walls she wanted up. He still didn't know why, and he wasn't asking, though Katie might be able to give him some answers. She'd been in his graduating class, and though they'd never really been friends, they'd both loved Kelsey. She was their unifying factor.
"She's been drifting since the Olympics ended." Katie glanced at the door and lowered her voice. "She never finished her degree, and now she doesn't have a firm direction."
Except the apartment and job she kept mentioning. In Houston.
He knew she wasn't staying, and that killed him. He aimed to do everything in his power to change her mind.
It would help if he had any idea why they'd broken up. She'd shied away from the subject whenever it came up. He'd spoken to Gideon on the phone and Carrie in person, and both of them told him it'd happened around her high school graduation, but they'd had no further details. They’d both said he'd been pretty upset by it.
Well, yeah.
It didn't surprise him his brother and sister didn’t know more. He didn't talk about things that hurt deeply. It wasn't his style. Was that why she'd ended things with him? Because he hadn't shared his feelings enough?
He looked over to Katie, who had her head down, one plastic garbage bag in hand.
"Do you know why we broke things off?"
She shrugged. "You know Kelsey. Back then, she was this lost little girl—"
A noise from the doorway brought both their heads up. Kelsey stood there, and from the thunderclouds gathering on her brow, she'd obviously overheard.
"I was coming back to say maybe it was time for a break, but maybe I should take the break and let you guys keep talking about me behind my back."
He straightened, ready to defend Katie, since he’d brought it up, but Kelsey was already turning away. "I'm going for a run," she called over her shoulder. She slammed out of the house.
Crap. He hadn't wanted to upset her, just to find out what he'd done wrong all those years ago. Or if the decision to go their separate ways had been mutual, though he still couldn't imagine a scenario where he'd want to let her go.
He thought about leaving, but there was a lot of work to be done here, and he'd promised to help. Kelsey would probably run off her frustration and rejoin them later.
Silence reined, now tense between him and Katie.
He lifted a medium-sized cardboard box from the top of a slanting pile, so he could see into it better. It was surprisingly light.
When he opened it, it was like opening a window into the childhood Kelsey. It was full of canvases of various sizes, all with different paintings. A horse. A castle. An orchard, or...something like that. She had talent, which had showed even when she was young.
He angled the paintings toward Katie. "You think she'll want these?"
"After she was so embarrassed about that one?" She jerked her thumb toward the larger painting they'd been fighting over earlier. "As far as I'm concerned, they're yours."
He grinned his appreciation. "Thanks."
He took the box and the larger painting out to his truck and tucked them in the cab. He looked both ways down the shaded, quiet neighborhood street, but Kelsey was nowhere in sight.
He leaned his hip against the truck. Maybe the pictures were a sign. Maybe he was going about this all wrong. He'd been working so hard to help Kelsey find a reason to stay when maybe what he should do instead was help her find a way forward.
It was obvious she'd loved art since she was a kid. She’d set it aside in her single-minded determination to win an Olympic medal. If art was her passion, then it only made sense that some kind of art-related career, even if that meant going back to school to finish her degree, would kindle her dreams again.
Chapter 7
"Your transcript isn't holding you back."
Kelsey dropped the black trash bag on the ground next to the porch steps and turned to Matt, who was stacking toasters on the recently unearthed kitchen counter. That's right. Multiple toasters, all in working order, all ready to be donated. Beside them were piles of kitchen utensils sorted by use. Spoons, spatulas, tongs. They'd be given away, too, once they attacked the last pile in the far corner of the room.
Past the kitchen, the junk that had previously filled the living room had been reduced to several boxes stacked near the door, ready for delivery to a local charity.
After a week of full-time work, they were making a dent. Maybe there was an end to this.
She dusted her hands and shut the back door.
Matt pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket. He unfolded it and glanced at it. "Your grades are good. Mostly A's."
"Where'd you get my college transcript?" she demanded. She stalked over to him and snatched it from his clutches. There was no way she wanted him to ask about the D she'd made in Advanced Graphic Design. Professor Bernard's class.
She quickly re-folded it and stuffed it in the front pocket of her jeans.
"Katie found it."
"Katie snooped in my room?"
He shrugged unapologetically. "She didn't say where she found it."
"Haven't you two meddled in my life enough?"
He grinned at her, his teeth a white flash against his tan. And made no apology for looking at her transcript or for the meddling.
She couldn't find the energy to get angry. He'd spent hours here every day, toting hundreds of trash bags and boxes to the dumpster outside. He’d brought food and made her take a break when she was tempted to keep working. He’d cracked dumb jokes to entertain her and kept silent when the task had felt overwhelming.
It was overwhelming. The more floor space and walls they'd uncovered in the living room, they more damage they’d seen, damage that Mama's stuff had been hiding. The carpet was stained and nasty, something a vacuum and cleaning wouldn't fix. The floor bowed ominously, obviously affected by the Texas humidity and no doubt the weight of the junk piled on them. The walls were water-damaged and in desperate need of a coat of paint, and the extensions on the ceiling fan were drooping, making it unusable.
Matt hadn’t commented, and Katie had been tight-lipped so far about whether she wanted to sell the house or try and repair it.
Now, Matt headed for last pile of junk in the corner, snatched a new black bag, and held it open.
She reached the pile. It appeared to be a stack of empty, used pizza boxes. She wanted to gag. Instead, she hiked up her gloves and looked away.
A colorful brochure was sticking out of his back pocket. "What's this?" She plucked it out before he could turn or stop her. She glanced at it, then held up the college brochure for him to see. She raised her eyebrows. "State?" The university was only twenty miles away.
He shrugged. "You said you were only a few hours short of your college degree."
She shook her head and stuffed the brochure into his trash bag. She shoved two pizza boxes in after it.
But the thought stuck in her brain and he seemed to know it because his eyes twinkled.
She didn't need an art degree to coach long-distance runners. And if she wanted to go back to school, a degree in sports management might be more helpful.
And she didn't want to think about it, not when they were so close to getting this room emptied.
She picked up the first cardboard pizza box, glad for the leather gloves that protected her hands.
Something small darted out from the pile, across the top of her shoe, and along the wall until it disappeared beneath the kitchen counter.
It happened so fast, she didn't even have time to react. Until she realized what had happened. A mouse.
She shrieked, dropped the pizza box. She grabbed Matt's bicep.
He laughed, and she glared at him.
"It's just a little rodent."
She glared harder.
And he laughed harder. She let go of his muscled arm to cross her arms over her chest.
"We've got extra traps in the tac
k room at home," he said. "I'll bring some over first thing tomorrow."
Tomorrow would mean she had to sleep in the house with the rodent. Her thoughts must’ve showed on her face, because he barely stifled another chuckle.
"Tonight?" He grinned at her.
She shivered, imagining little mouse feet running over her bed while she slept. But she couldn't ask him to do that.
"In the morning is fine. I appreciate it."
His lips were still twitching, but his eyes had turned serious. He shooed her toward the living room. "I'll finish up in here."
Gratitude surged. "Are you sure?"
"Why don't you take this, though, think about it in your free time?"
He held out a second brochure, this one pulled out of his front pocket. He pushed it into her hand. "Just think about it."
His eyes shone, showing her how much he believed in her. She wished she had that much confidence in herself, in anything more than her ability to run a fast half-marathon.
But as she wandered into the other room, his excitement spurred a very slight echo of the same inside her.
Kelsey winced as she walked through Matt's living room and into the ranch house's dining room. Apparently he'd taken more from her mom's house than the one hideous painting she'd known about, because along one wall, he'd lined up a grouping of elementary school paintings she’d done.
Amateur, amateur, amateur. Both the paint mixing and strokes. She'd thought she was so much better than she used to be, but…
"What about graphic design?" Matt asked absently, hauling in two brown grocery bags. He deposited them on the long dining table. He'd promised to grill her a steak for supper tonight, a reward for both of them for delivering all those boxes and bags to the charity donation center.
She shook her head. "The job market is too crowded." She didn't know whether that was true but it sounded about right.
All she could hear was Professor Bernard's echo in the back of her mind. You have no talent whatsoever. The dressing down in front of the entire class had humiliated her, and she'd been too embarrassed to go to the last three class sessions or the final, which explained her failing grade.
Kissing Kelsey: a Cowboy Fairytales spin-off (Triple H Brides Book 1) Page 5
