What She'd Do for Love

by Cindi Myers

  A large man moved to one side and there she was, staring right at him. And she didn’t look happy about winning. He moved toward her, wary. “Congratulations,” he said. “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “I had nothing to do with this,” she said. “My friends bought the tickets for me.” She glanced toward the end of the booth, where Kelly and Didi giggled together.

  “Guess they think we deserve each other.” Some of the tension left him. If Christa hadn’t tried to win him, that gave him the upper hand. “What would you like to do with four hours of my time? I can wash your car. Or maybe take you on a picnic.”

  “My dad needs help re-stringing some fencing. You can do that.”

  “But you’re the one who won my services, not Bud.”

  “I was going to help him. You can take my place.” She turned away, but not before he read the emotion reflected in those brown eyes. Christa looked almost regretful, as if at least part of her wished she’d chosen the picnic, instead of pawning him off on her father.

  * * *

  “I’M GLAD YOU finally made an appointment. I’ve been dying to work on your hair.” Kelly ran her fingers through Christa’s long dark locks.

  Christa had been so busy getting ready for the Summer Festival she hadn’t had much time for primping. With the festival passed, she was overdue for a haircut. “A trim will be fine,” she said. The excited gleam in Kelly’s eyes made her nervous.

  “Oh, come on. You’ve got to let me do more than that. After all, you want to look sharp for all those job interviews you’re going to be getting soon.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Christa shifted in the salon chair. “I’ve got an interview in Dallas next week.” The call had surprised her. She’d only sent out a few résumés, and she hadn’t expected to hear back so quickly.

  “You don’t sound very excited.”

  “I am. But it’s...it’s with a really big marketing firm. They have some huge clients—oil companies and multinational corporations. A lot different from the boutique company I worked for in Houston.”

  “It’s still marketing work.” Kelly began combing out Christa’s hair. “I bet they have great benefits. And think of the people you’ll meet.”

  “I’m not sure big corporate work is what I want to do.”

  “Maybe you’ll find out things at the interview that will help you decide.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  “But first, I’m going to give you a terrific cut and some highlights—you’re going to wow them. Not to mention a certain hunk whose services you won at the raffle.”

  Christa moaned. “I’m still not sure I’ve forgiven you and Didi for setting me up this way. How many tickets did you buy?”

  The mirror reflected Kelly’s smug grin. “I’ll never tell. Besides, one day you’ll thank me. You and Ryder make a great couple, even if you don’t see it yet. What are you having him do with the four hours you won?”

  “He’s going to help my dad string fence. I might not even be there.”

  “Christa!” Kelly’s tone was scolding. “You have to be there. Your dad didn’t win the raffle—you did.”

  “That’s what my dad said when I told him. I said I was having Ryder fill in for me, so I could have a day off, but he said I have to be there, too. I’m at least hoping I can slip away early.”

  “You might change your mind after you spend a little more time with Ryder.” Kelly spun the chair around so that Christa faced away from the mirror. “He’s a really nice guy.”

  “I don’t have time for men right now,” Christa said. “Nice or otherwise. I need to find a job and a place to live and all those things. What are you doing?” She tried to turn the chair back to the mirror, but Kelly had locked it.

  “No peeking until I’m done.” Kelly picked up her shears. “It would be great if you got a job in Dallas. I could see you all the time. With the new highway making the commute time shorter, you might even decide to live here.”

  “I really hate to admit there’s anything good about that highway, but I guess you’re right.”

  “Although, now that you’ve lived in the city, small town life might be too boring for you.”

  “It’s not that. I just wish the town wasn’t changing so much—it feels like everything is moving away from me when I’ve only come back. Even my parents.”

  “Your parents are moving?” Kelly stopped snipping and put a hand on Christa’s shoulder.

  “No! At least I don’t think so. They’ve both been so distant I don’t really know what’s going on in their lives.”

  Kelly squeezed her shoulder. “Your mom is probably focused on getting well. And your dad is focused on your mom.”

  “Yes, that’s true. And I’d really like to help them, but they won’t let me. Mom only wants Dad to take her to her chemo and doctor’s appointments. And something’s going on with the ranch, but every time I try to ask about it, Dad brushes me off. He’ll talk to me about my job, or something in the news, but not about how he’s feeling, or what’s really going on in his life.”

  Kelly returned her attention to Christa’s hair. “He’s a man. And a rancher at that. They don’t call them the strong, silent type for nothing. You’re used to those touchy-feely city guys.”

  Christa tried not to pay attention to how much hair was falling around her shoulders. “Trust me—I never met one of those in Houston. I think they’re a myth.”

  “Maybe so. And speaking of guys I’d like to touch and feel, let’s get back to Ryder. What’s going on between you two, really?”

  Christa resisted the urge to squirm under her friend’s questions—questions she’d avoided asking herself. “Nothing is going on,” she said. “He’s a decent guy, but I’m not interested.”

  “You’ve been avoiding him.”

  “I’m not avoiding him.” This wasn’t one hundred percent true. Earlier in the week, when she’d seen Ryder’s truck parked at the Blue Bell, she’d decided to eat lunch at the Burger Barn instead. “I just have no reason to talk to him.”

  “Yes, you do. You won him in the raffle.”

  “My father is making the arrangements for that.” With luck, she’d have another job interview, and spend that day away from the ranch.

  “You don’t even appreciate the big favor we did for you,” Kelly said. “Fixing you up with the best looking guy in town.”

  “I’m sorry you wasted your money buying all those raffle tickets, but I’m not interested in Ryder Oakes.”

  “Why not? He seems interested in you.”

  Her heart beat a little faster. “You’re imagining things.”

  “I am not. I’ve seen how he looks at you. I figured out pretty quick that I didn’t stand a chance with him.”

  “He doesn’t look at me any special way.” But she had a sudden image of Ryder’s blue eyes studying her with an intensity that felt warm and intimate.

  “Maybe I was wrong,” Kelly said. “But I could have sworn he seemed interested in you. But I guess if he hasn’t asked you out...”

  “He did ask me out.” Christa couldn’t stop herself from telling this news; she never had been able to keep anything from her best friend.

  Kelly gripped Christa’s shoulder again. “Please tell me you said yes.”

  “I told him no. I’m not interested and I won’t lead him on.”

  Kelly moved around in front of the chair and frowned at her friend. “Christa, what is wrong with you? He’s good-looking, decent, intelligent, has a good job—what more do you want?”

  “I want a man with whom I have something in common. Ryder and I are too different.”

  “Oh, please! You’re both intelligent, good-looking and single. That’s all it takes to build a good relationship.”

  “We’re too di
fferent,” Christa repeated. “I’m emotional. He’s practical. Home is really important to me, and he’s never really had a home.”

  “Haven’t you heard that opposites attract?”

  “Not in this case.”

  Kelly shoved her shoulder. “I think you’re afraid.”

  “I am not!”

  The hairdresser returned to her spot behind the chair, her scissors moving quickly. Christa prayed she’d have some hair left. “You’re afraid. Come on—what’s the worst that could happen if you went out with him?” Kelly asked.

  Christa had lain awake more than one night thinking about this. “I’d fall for him and he’d leave me behind.”

  Kelly’s frantic cutting slowed. “Then you admit you could fall for him.”

  “I didn’t say it would happen. Only that it could. And I’ve had enough rejection for one year, thank you.”

  “A job is a far cry from a man. Getting laid off was not personal.”

  “It felt that way, whether it was or not.” And her parents hadn’t exactly rejected her, but they hadn’t welcomed her with the open arms she’d expected. Was it so wrong of her to want to avoid any more hurt?

  “But you’re going to get a new job. Why not a new boyfriend while you’re at it?”

  “Maybe I only want to deal with one challenge at a time. Job first. Then figure out where I’m going to live. Then, maybe I’ll be ready to get involved with someone—but not a man who doesn’t believe in emotional attachments to people and places.”

  “I don’t think Ryder is as cold as you make him out to be. Why not give him a chance? Dating him might even help you decide what you want to do about your job situation.”

  “I don’t see how Ryder has any relation to my job. Besides, he’d probably be like every other man I know—including my father—and try to tell me what I should do. Men always think they have to fix things.”

  “Think of dating Ryder as practice at taking risks,” Kelly said. “You risk going out with him and it isn’t so bad. So that inspires you to take a career risk—applying to some place you really want to work that you thought was out of reach, or something equally frightening.”

  Kelly was right about one thing. Christa didn’t like risk. “I hate to say this, but you’re almost making sense.”

  “Certainly, I am. I may not have a degree in psychology, but I’ve spent my life listening to women confess their deepest, darkest secrets within the sacred confines of a beauty shop. I know what makes people tick.”

  “So you think you know what makes me tick?”

  “Of course. You need to take more chances in your life.”

  “I’m taking one big chance now, trusting you blindly with my hair.”

  “That’s not a risk at all.” She stepped back and studied her work. “So far, so good. Let me mix some color and get to work on your highlights. And you can tell me all about what you and Ryder are going to do on your date.”

  “I never said I was going to date him.”

  “But what I said about risk made sense. You need more risk in your life. Why not start with Ryder?”

  Why not, indeed? “Maybe I’ll give him a call,” she said. Saying the words out loud made her feel slightly light-headed. “But only to get you off my back.”

  “Perfect. Now lean this way a little and let me work my magic.”

  She needed some magic in her life. She didn’t think Ryder was going to pull any rabbits out of a hat, or make the kind of change in her life Kelly said she needed.

  But she’d never know if she didn’t try. She’d go out with him and prove to herself that they were wrong for each other. Then she’d be able to see her next move more clearly.

  * * *

  RYDER DIDN’T EXACTLY look forward to spending a hot, bright Saturday fence building, but he’d made a bargain and keeping it was important. “I’m cashing in Christa’s raffle winnings,” Bud had explained when he’d telephoned. “Come out Saturday and I’ll put you to work.”

  Ryder’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drove toward the ranch just after breakfast. He’d have felt better about the work if Christa had been the one to call. Every time he felt the two of them were getting closer, she backed away. He’d never had a woman behave so skittish around him; she was a puzzle he needed to solve, if only so he’d know what not to do the next time he was attracted to a woman.

  It didn’t help that his mother had gotten involved. Every time they talked now, she asked about Christa. “The two of you seem to get along so well,” she’d said the last time they’d talked. “She’s interested in you, even if she’s not ready to admit it.”

  “I asked her out once and she turned me down,” he said. “I know how to take no for an answer.”

  “I don’t think she meant it,” Peggy said. “The raffle win gives you both a second chance.”

  His mom had sounded hopeful, but Ryder really couldn’t see the point. Christa had pawned him off on her father; he didn’t need any more proof that pursuing her would lead to a dead end.

  He parked his truck in front of the ranch house; no sign of Christa’s car. Adele answered his knock at the door. She didn’t look much different to him than she ever had, which in itself was a relief. “Bud said to meet him out at the north pasture,” she said. “Just follow the dirt road up past the windmill and the stock tank. You’ll see Bud’s truck parked up there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “When you’re done, come on up to the house for lunch,” she said.

  He began to relax as he guided the truck slowly down the dirt track that cut through the ranch. So what if he wouldn’t see Christa today? The day was clear and hot, the dry fields and rolling hills bathed in a golden summer glow. He drove past a small herd of glossy black Angus cows, yellow tags clipped to their ears like modish fashion accessories. He passed the stock tank and the windmill, the blades turning lazily.

  He understood Christa’s reluctance to let all this go, even as he understood that things never stayed the same. Not the way people wanted them to. Change came whether you wanted it to or not; learning to adapt was a gift in itself, one he wanted to share with her.

  He spotted Bud’s black Chevy parked in the shade of a cluster of post oaks, and pulled in beside it. As he climbed out, someone called his name, and he turned to see the rancher striding toward him. Christa followed a few paces behind him, her expression unreadable in the shade of a pale straw Stetson.

  He settled for trying to read her emotions in her walk. She copied her father’s long stride, arms swinging at her side. Her straight-cut jeans showed off her figure. A sleeveless snap-button shirt in a pink-and-blue plaid was the latest in cowgirl chic; how like her to be fashionable even when doing chores.

  Father and daughter were almost to him before he caught a glimpse of her face. The corners of her mouth turned down, almost in a pout. “Dad didn’t tell me you were coming today,” she said when she stopped in front of him.

  “Must have slipped my mind.” Bud shook Ryder’s hand. “I figured this was as good a time as any to collect your raffle winnings.”

  “Have you ever strung fence before?” Christa asked.

  “No. But I’m a fast learner.”

  “It doesn’t take a degree from Harvard,” Bud said. He handed Ryder a pair of fencing pliers. “The first step is taking down the old wire. You pull out the staples. Christa, you roll up the old wire as it comes loose.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I’m going to lay out the new wire.” He nodded toward the rolls of new wire standing a few feet from the fence.

  Ryder followed Christa to the first post. “I like your new hairstyle,” he said. She’d cut several inches off her long hair, and added lighter brown highlights.

  She put one hand to the shorter hair.
“Thanks. Kelly surprised me with this. I wasn’t sure what to think.”

  “It’s flattering. Very stylish.”

  “Thanks.” She turned her attention to the fence. “Be careful with the staples. They tend to go flying.”

  The pliers made fast work of pulling out the old staples, though a few were stubborn, clinging to the hardened oak fence posts as if they’d been welded in place. “How old is this fence?” he asked.

  “I think my dad said his father put it in sometime in the seventies.”

  “He did a good job.” He grunted as he applied pressure to a stubborn staple.

  “He built things to last. My dad is the same. They didn’t want to have to come back in ten years and do things all over again.”

  Was this another route to reminding him that he couldn’t understand that kind of permanence? “I always took pride in doing a good job,” he said. “Even if I wouldn’t be around to enjoy the results.” He straightened and moved on to the next post. She followed behind, rolling up the wire. “I saw your mom earlier,” he said. “She looked good.”

  “She’s having a good day. The new wig cheered her up a little.”

  “I wouldn’t have known she was wearing a wig. What do the doctors say?”

  “Not a lot. It’s too early to tell, I guess.”

  She didn’t elaborate, and they moved on to the next fence post. Though the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, he wasn’t going to let her cut him out. Not when the one thing they’d always been good at was talking to each other. “How’s your job hunt going?” he asked.

  “I have an interview on Friday in Dallas.”

  Not Houston. Did that mean she planned to stick around? “That’s great. Congratulations.”

  “Don’t congratulate me yet. I’m not even sure this is something I want.”

  “Oh?” He glanced at her. Beneath the shade of her hat, her eyes filled with worry.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, about finding what I really want to do.”

  “And what have you decided?”

  “Nothing, yet. But I have some ideas. I may be able to make them work in a new job, or I may have to try something completely new for me. Right now, I’m open to all options.”