“Marnie and her matchmaking.” Flint opened the fudge container, holding it out to share the sweet treat.
After they’d downed some coffee and finished the section of fence they were working on, Nick headed off to do the evening chores at his own ranch.
But his words echoed in Flint’s head. Why didn’t he go for it? What was stopping him?
The argument about women not being trustworthy simply didn’t hold water around Lana. She was one of the best people Flint had ever met, hands down. She thought of others, not herself, almost all the time, but she wasn’t prissy or judgmental; instead, she was a lot of fun, lighthearted, genuine. There was a depth to her, too, that he didn’t see in a lot of women her age. Maybe it was the problems she’d faced—losing her parents and then being left at the altar—that had given her a maturity and spirituality rare in anyone, let alone a twentysomething woman.
He was starting to trust her, he realized as he packed up his tools and headed for the barn. He trusted her not to hurt him and Logan on purpose. Not to leave them on a whim the way Logan’s mother had. As he looked up at the blue sky overhead and thought about what Marnie and Nick had said, he made a sort of agreement. All right, Lord. I’ll consider it. I’m listening.
* * *
“You and Flint are just...wow,” Katie Ellis, the boys ranch receptionist, said to Lana later that evening.
“Wow?” Lana asked absently. She was hanging up costumes that had just been delivered, hoping to get the wrinkles out without ironing. Everything had to be in place for the dress rehearsal later tonight.
“You have something so special.” Katie sighed. “I can just see it in his eyes when he looks at you, how he cares for you.”
“You have a good imagination,” Lana said briskly. She was so used to having this argument with herself that opening it up to another person didn’t even faze her. “Flint and I are becoming friends, but that’s all it’ll ever be.”
“I heard that, and it’s ridiculous!” Rhetta Douglass walked into the barn, with Macy Swanson right behind her. “We’re here to help you get ready for the dress rehearsal. What do you need us to do?”
“Besides talk you into going out with Flint,” Macy added.
Lana threw up her hands. “He hasn’t asked me out, okay? He’s my boss. He’s the parent of a kid in my class. He’s my temporary neighbor.”
“Still...” Katie trailed off.
Rhetta was nodding vigorously. “That doesn’t mean you can’t—”
“Stop!” Lana put her hands on her hips and glared at both women. “What word did you not hear in my description of our friendship? Date, right? We’re not dating!”
Rhetta raised her eyebrows at Macy and Katie. “Well, well. Somebody feels strongly about this issue.”
“I don’t feel strongly!” Lana exclaimed. Then, she heard herself and let out a big sigh.
There was no getting away from it, and no hiding it from her friends, either. She felt more for Flint than anyone should feel for a boss or a student’s father. She looked at him, especially lately, in a decidedly unprofessional way.
The other three women circled her, arms crossed.
“Come on,” Rhetta said. “Tell us what’s going on. And don’t you dare say ‘nothing.’”
“I need my privacy,” Lana protested, but she felt the beginnings of a smile.
“You need your girlfriends,” Macy said. “Believe me, falling in love is not something you should be going through alone.”
“I’m not falling in love! But okay. I like Flint a lot, and I’m crazy about his son.”
“And you’d like things to go further. Right?”
“How am I supposed to answer that?” Lana sat down on a hay bale, chin propped on her fist.
“Tell the truth,” Macy suggested.
“Believe in romance.” Katie sighed. “Like I would, if Pastor Andrew only gave me the time of day.”
“We’ll deal with your issue another time,” Rhetta promised. “Right now, we’re going to focus on Lana. Make her see reason.”
“I do see reason,” Lana protested. “I know what I know. Flint doesn’t ever want to marry again. For me to get all focused on him would be a huge mistake.”
“How do you know that?” Katie asked. “Because the way he looks at you...”
“You’re a romantic. You see hearts and flowers everywhere.”
“I see it, too,” Macy said frankly. “I think he’d go for you if you’d give him half a chance.”
Lana couldn’t help feeling a little surge of hope. If other people were seeing Flint’s feelings for her, then they must exist. Right?
But even if he had feelings, he also had plans, and Flint was nothing if not strong-willed.
“He’s decided not to marry again.” Lana recounted what she’d heard Flint say in the feed store. “He wasn’t saying it for effect. He was speaking the truth. To a close friend.”
Rhetta waved her hand. “Men never want to be pinned down,” she said, looking at Macy. “Right?”
“Right. Until they do want to.” Macy giggled. “Tanner was bound and determined he wouldn’t marry someone like me. And look at us now!” She held up her left hand, sparkling with a beautiful diamond.
“I don’t buy it.” Lana held out a cooler of sodas to the other women. “And I can’t risk it. I pressured someone into marrying me before, and look what happened. He backed out at the last minute. I’m not going through that again.”
“Flint would never back out,” Macy said. “He’s loyal to the core. And you care about each other. It’s obvious! We just need to find a way to help you along.”
“How about the mystery matchmakers?” Katie suggested with a smile. “They’ve been setting up families like crazy, and you, Flint and Logan are a perfect match.”
Lana shook her head. “Believe me, they’ve been on the case. But even they don’t want me to get together with Flint. They’re trying to match me up with other guys in town. They probably know the truth—Flint’s just not the marrying kind.”
“Show a little faith, honey.” Macy beckoned to the others. “Come on, we have a couple of things to do in the ranch house.” They left the barn, talking and giggling.
After they left, Lana sat down at a little table to fold the programs Bea had gotten printed in the office.
Could she have a relationship? Was Flint’s reluctance really just a guy thing? If he, deep inside, wanted to go ahead with something between them, could she join in?
Outside the barn, she heard the murmur of voices; it sounded like Marnie had stopped to talk with someone, and there was Rhetta’s deep chuckle. She heard a boy yelling, then another, the sound of running feet. That would be Logan, burning off some steam before dinner.
If she were to start up a relationship, she would want to do it with Flint. She could acknowledge that now. Somewhere in the past few days and weeks, seeing how hard he worked and tried, admiring his leadership on the ranch, noticing his care for Logan... Yeah. It had gotten to her.
She’d at least halfway fallen in love. Maybe more than halfway.
She hugged herself and leaned against the half wall of one of the stalls. Love. Against her will and her best intentions, she’d fallen in love.
“You okay?” Flint Rawlings’s voice startled her, and he materialized in the barn’s dimness. He was carrying a rope and the heavy Christmas star some of the older boys had made for the pageant, at school in their woodworking class.
She felt herself blushing and was glad for the low light. Could he read her thoughts, see the foolish expression on her face?
“Lana?” He walked closer. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Just working on the programs. We’re about all set up for the dress rehearsal.” Whew. She sucked in her breath, smelling h
ay and wood and the pungent scent of turpentine.
He nodded and put down what he was carrying. Then, hands on hips, he turned back to her. “So what’s left to do? I’m here to help, if you need me.”
He sounded relaxed, more relaxed than he had in a while. He wasn’t nervous. He hadn’t just had a revelation, as she had.
“I just need to get us set up for the first scene. And hang the star.”
He nodded and rolled up his sleeves. Having been here throughout the rehearsals, he seemed to know what to do. They worked together, moving the props into place for the roadside scene, where Joseph and Mary would walk toward Bethlehem, passing shepherds and sheep on the way.
Flint was a man used to hard work, and he did it without complaint, even with a smile. After a full day of working the ranch, he still took time to help with the pageant, quietly doing what was needed, without complaint and without any expectation of gratitude.
But she was grateful. “That about does it,” she said after they’d gotten the scene into place. “Thank you so much for your help.”
“Sure that’s all you need?”
“Well...there’s just the star to hang. I don’t think I can do that alone.”
“You shouldn’t. That’s what we males are for.”
“That’s sexist,” she said automatically.
“Just accept it. We guys like to help a pretty lady.”
Was he flirting with her?
She felt her face heating. Time to get businesslike. “Okay, so I want it as high as possible up over the stable. It’s nice and big, so everyone can see it, especially if we shine a spotlight on it.”
“At your service.” He disappeared into the barn’s storage room and emerged with a tall stepladder. He set it up behind the stable and climbed up, balancing on the top rung and holding the star for her to see. “Around about here, or higher?”
For an absurd moment, Lana imagined that they were married and hanging pictures in a new house. She’d be trying to get everything to look perfect, a wonderful home for them and Logan. Flint would be patient, as he was now; waiting, good-natured about it; he’d be a good partner in decorating as in so many other things.
She fanned herself with the small stack of pageant programs she’d picked up. “Maybe up a little higher?”
He was about to step up higher when she saw the ladder wobble. “Just a minute, wait.” She grabbed a chair and pulled it over, climbed up on it.
She meant to just steady the ladder, but somehow her hands ended up holding his muscular, jean-clad legs. He went still for a moment, then hitched the star up higher, tossed a rope over a rafter, and hung the star. “Just one more sec and this’ll be secure. Then you can look at it and see if it suits your fancy.” His voice sounded a little tight.
When she was sure he wasn’t going to fall, she let go of his legs and held the ladder, and a moment later, he was climbing down.
He reached the floor and immediately held out a hand to help her down.
Lana’s heart beat faster than it should as she stepped from the chair, holding his hand for balance. “I’m supposed to be helping you.”
His eyes held hers for a little too long, and he didn’t drop her hand. “We can help each other.”
Golden light slanted through the boards on the western side of the barn, revealing the dust motes that danced in the sun’s rays. Flint’s words seemed to be fraught with meaning.
Lana blew out a breath. It was getting very warm in here. She tugged her hand away from his and backed up to inspect the star.
Flint went over to the small, rudimentary light board and fiddled with the switches. A spotlight came on, illuminating the star, which she could now see had been beveled and painted with sparkly paint. The star glowed, turning a little in the warm air.
She couldn’t restrain a little hand clap. “It’s beautiful!”
Flint came to stand behind her, close but not touching her. “Doesn’t look half bad.”
As she watched it, the star seemed to twinkle.
“You okay with the placement? Want me to move it?”
“It’s good,” she said, half turning around. “It’s perfect. I was just thinking about...the star of Bethlehem and what it represents. New life.”
“New hope,” he said, nodding. “I’ve been thinking about that some, too.”
She hazarded a glance at him. “Have you?’
He reached out a hand and, with a gentle touch on her shoulder, turned her around to face him. He left his hand there, warming her shoulder.
They were standing very close together, close enough that she caught the woodsy, leather smell that always seemed to be a part of Flint.
“I feel a lot for you, Lana,” he said. “That’s another thing I’ve been thinking about.”
“What do you feel?” She was breathless.
He studied her, their eyes tight on each other. She couldn’t look away.
He did, though, and stepped back. “Thinking I’m not exactly right for someone like you,” he said. “Thinking I’m kind of old and beat-up for someone as young and pretty as you are.”
She laughed. “Yeah, you seem so old when you scramble around the rafters like a monkey.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “I don’t feel old. In fact, sometimes I feel more like a teenage boy who’s just fallen for a girl and doesn’t know how to handle it.”
Fallen for a girl. Had he fallen for her? What else could he mean?
Her heart gave a great, joyous thump, and she reached out both of her hands, grasped his bigger, callused ones. “I’ve fallen for you a little bit, too.”
“Oh, really?” He looked into her eyes as if reading her sincerity. Then he looked at her lips.
And then he pulled her close and brushed his mouth over hers.
It was the sweetest kiss Lana had ever felt. Partly because she could tell he was holding back. His shoulder muscles, under her hands, were tight, and he used his hands to keep her at a safe distance.
But even with all of his safeguards, the kiss burned her like fire.
She pulled one of her hands free to touch her own lips, her eyes wide as she looked at him. “Did that mean...”
“It means I want to—”
All of a sudden, the barn door behind them slammed shut.
They jumped apart in the sudden darkness. “Now, what’s that all about?” Flint asked.
“Kids playing, I’d bet.” It had happened before, a couple of times in rehearsal. “Or...” She snapped her fingers. “Rhetta and the girls, matchmaking.”
“Or Marnie Binder.” There was a smile in his voice.
She started toward the door, feeling her way, but Flint touched her arm. “Wait a second.”
“Yeah?” She looked up at him and saw his eyes had darkened.
“I was always taught to seize opportunities,” he said. “When you’re the younger of a bunch of brothers, you do that. How about if I kiss you again?”
He was letting her decide, and she almost wished he hadn’t, because she didn’t want to think about what it all might mean and all the reasons they shouldn’t do it. But he’d placed the responsibility on her, and she was nothing if not responsible. “I don’t know if I can...”
“We’re both a little scarred, Lana. We can’t move fast, and I don’t expect to. But I’m thinking, maybe, we should move toward something together.”
Her heart pounded hard, and her stomach swarmed with butterflies, and she couldn’t speak. But she gave a little nod, and immediately his hands came up to cradle her face. His thumb touched her lip, light as a bird’s wing. “So pretty,” he said. “Wow, you are so pretty.”
And then he lowered his head to hers and pulled her close. And this time, the kiss wasn’t gentle and sweet. Flint still held himself
back, but the passion and the promise left her trembling.
New life, she thought wildly as he broke the kiss and pulled her against his shoulder, both of them breathing hard. Was she ready for it?
Chapter Twelve
Flint was wired as tight as a new army recruit as he slid open the barn door, one arm still around Lana’s shoulders.
That had been some kiss.
He was tense from holding himself back, but lit up from the bright possibilities opening up in front of him. As bright as the glow of the setting sun, which momentarily blinded him as he slid a hand down to the small of Lana’s back and walked outside.
The voices brought him back, though. There were the women, standing over by the fence, Marnie and Rhetta on one side, Macy and Katie on the other, leaning together in that way women had when they were sharing secrets.
Pastor Andrew—for whom Flint could feel nothing but good-heartedness, now that he knew Lana wasn’t interested in him—stood talking to Tanner.
A murmur went around the group, and everyone turned to look at them. And for once, Flint didn’t care that everyone could guess their business, that the fact that they’d been kissing was probably written all over their faces.
Logan turned away from the other boys and the racetrack they’d built in the sand. He jumped up and ran toward them, leaping, barely able to contain himself. His words spilled out, loud and clear: “Is it true, is it true, are you getting married? Is Miss Alvarez going to be my mom?”
“What?” Flint squatted down to catch him. “No. No, son.” Logan had this tendency to get ahead of himself. What Flint and Lana were discovering about each other was so new. Flint didn’t want to threaten it by moving too fast. “You know what family is, and she’s not a part of it. It’s just you and me.” He chuckled as he hugged his crazy, overimaginative son.
Behind him, Lana gasped. She must be as surprised by the question as he was.
The others, kids and adults, had all turned toward them, but Flint was focusing on Logan’s face, which had fallen. Flint opened his mouth, trying to think of how to explain to a six-year-old the delicate pacing of adult relationships.
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