A Randall Thanksgiving

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A Randall Thanksgiving Page 15

by Judy Christenberry

Harry followed him out of the office. Once they were seated at the café and had given their orders, he eyed Mike assessingly. “Why aren’t you eating lunch at home, Mike? Is Caroline working today? It is Saturday, isn’t it?”

  “No, she’s off today. It’s Jon’s Saturday.”

  “Then—”

  “Oh, Melissa called to ask if she could come visit Caroline. My wife suggested I get lost,” Mike added with laughter.

  Melissa was in town? Would she stop by the Sheriff’s Office? She knew he was on duty. Harry squelched the urge to rush back to his desk in case she dropped in. “Uh, did Caro say why Melissa was coming into town?”

  “No, I thought maybe you knew,” Mike said, raising one eyebrow.

  “No! I have no idea.”

  Mike stared at him. “You sound pretty down. Did things not go well last night?”

  “They went great until the end.”

  “I meant with Melissa,” Mike said.

  Harry kept his voice low. “There’s nothing between us. She’s going back to France.”

  “You believe that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? That’s what she’s told me every time I got near her.”

  “I’m wondering. She said that, but she seems to be doing things that indicate she’s putting down roots.”

  “Like what?”

  “Caroline said she’s promised to take care of her mother. She doesn’t think she’ll leave her family again. It’s been clear they’ve missed her terribly.”

  Harry sat there staring into space. Then he said, “She’s always told me she plans to return to France.”

  “You haven’t been acting like you believe her.”

  He shrugged. “I pretended to myself it wasn’t true. That she’d change her mind. But she still says it, so I believe her now.”

  The waitress arrived with their orders, and Mike sat there quietly until she departed.

  “Have you told Melissa how you feel about her?”

  “Why would I tell her that, since she’s leaving?”

  “To find out if it might be enough to make her want to stay, Harry. You’ve got to give her a reason.”

  “Someone said she’d probably get over her anger with Pierre. They seemed well suited to each other. Did you see them dancing together last night? Did you hear him tease her about having a sweet tooth? I didn’t know that about her.”

  “I don’t think those things matter.”

  “I do.”

  Both men started eating their lunch, though Harry couldn’t even taste his food. He was too busy thinking about Melissa.

  Damn! Should he tell her how he felt? He grimaced. Why put his heart out on the counter for her to chop into little bits before she left the country?

  “Damn!” he repeated, this time out loud.

  “What’s wrong, Harry?”

  “Did I say something?” he asked warily.

  “Yeah, you said ‘damn.’ Why?”

  With a big sigh, Harry said, “I tried not to fall for her, but I just realized I have. I’m in love with Melissa.”

  “Congratulations!” Mike said with a grin. “Have you decided to tell her?”

  Harry blew out a long breath and gave his boss a pensive look. “To tell you the truth, Mike, I don’t know.”

  “OH, CAROLINE, this is great!” Melissa exclaimed when she entered the house.

  “It is, isn’t it? I wasn’t sure until I got here how nice this house would be for me. But now that there are four of us, it’s a little small. Besides, we need a housekeeper.”

  “With both of you working, I guess that would be a help.”

  “Yes, and it would provide some stability for our children. Sometimes Mike and I both have to respond to the same emergency. That makes it very difficult.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Caro led her into the kitchen, where she poured lemon iced tea and offered Melissa a seat at the table. “It hit me early on. Our first real date was at a French restaurant in Buffalo. A Rawhide lady shot her philandering fiancé right in front of us. Mike handled the shooter and I tended to the dead man’s date, who also got shot.”

  “Wow. That was an even more interesting date than last night.”

  “Yes. I hope the events last evening didn’t spoil things for you and Harry.”

  “No, they didn’t,” Melissa said, hoping to keep her voice even. Evidently, though, her cousin was more intuitive than Melissa had thought.

  “But something spoiled it?”

  She decided to confide in Caroline. “Ever since Pierre arrived, Harry doesn’t seem interested.”

  “I really like Harry,” Caroline said softly.

  “So do I,” Melissa whispered.

  Caroline took a sip of her iced tea. After a moment, she said, “Did you ask him why?”

  “No, but he’s made it clear he isn’t interested anymore. Last night he didn’t even kiss me good-night. Did Mike ever do that?”

  “Yes, at one point he told me to stop feeling sorry for myself, and left me standing there. It made me figure things out.” She had a dreamy smile on her face.

  Melissa wanted a smile like that. One that told of long nights in a lover’s arms, of days spent together, of shared burdens and victories.

  But all she’d had were Harry’s goodbye kisses.

  “Melissa, maybe there’s a reason Harry thinks you’re going back to Pierre.”

  “Do you think he believes I would tolerate a man who isn’t faithful? I’d never do that.”

  “I don’t think your father would, either.”

  “I know Dad wouldn’t. When he realized Pierre had two-timed me, he told me to get him out of the house,” Melissa said, squaring her jaw.

  “I think you need to talk to Harry,” Caroline stated.

  “I’m not sure I can. He’s made it clear he’s not interested.”

  “And you don’t mind if he moves on?”

  Melissa considered the question, and finally said, “Yes, I do.”

  “So you’re in love with him?”

  Undeniably. Thoroughly. Irrevocably. Absolutely.

  She loved Harry Gowan.

  “Yes.”

  The admission didn’t seem to shock Caro. She calmly asked, “So what happens to going back to France?”

  “I decided yesterday I’m not going back to France, other than to pack up my belongings.”

  “Really?” Caroline cried with a big smile. “I’m so glad you’re coming home!”

  “I’m not. I’m thinking of settling in New York.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to sell my jewelry.”

  “Are you going to personally sell it, not put it in stores?”

  Melissa thought about that question. “No, I was going to contact some high-end shops.”

  “Then why not live here and go to the city when you need to?”

  “It’s not easy, Caro. I need to hire some interns or workers to help me. It takes time to turn out jewelry, even if I already have designs ready.”

  “Maybe you could build your workshop on the empty property across the street, and add a couple of apartments over it. Let the internship include a place to live.”

  Melissa had to admit the suggestion was a good one. “That’s an idea, assuming I find the right people.”

  “And you could rent or buy this place. It would be perfect!”

  Melissa looked at Caroline. “You’re not just saying that to sell this house, are you?”

  “No. But I’d like it to go to someone who would love it.”

  “That would be easy to do. I guess you’ll be taking the furniture with you?”

  “Not really. The new house is much larger, and we’ve decided to furnish it with new furniture. Except for the paintings and those lamps,” Caroline said, pointing to the living room. “Otherwise, we’d be glad to include the furniture if the new owner wanted it.”

  Melissa debated her answer. She had to admit that not only did her cousin’s idea sound appealing, i
t seemed thoroughly workable. She longed to have the type of happy life Caroline had found in this house. But could she live here without Harry? Could she live in his town without having him beside her?

  And could she live here and make her jewelry, as Caroline had suggested? Why hadn’t she realized that? That she could have a workshop here and sell to the American market?

  Frequent plane trips would be warranted, to New York and San Francisco, Seattle and Dallas—all the major cities—but she wasn’t opposed to travel. It’d still give her a taste of the sophisticated lifestyle she’d enjoyed the past six years.

  But the biggest plus was how close she’d be to her family. She wouldn’t have to hear the stories of their lives; she’d share them.

  She looked at her cousin, who regarded her expectantly.

  “Caroline, I want it. I want to build a workshop across the street like you suggested. But could you not tell anyone, even Mike, for a while? Until I figure out what’s going on with Harry.”

  “So you won’t want it if—”

  “I want it no matter what, but I don’t want Harry to marry me unless he loves me, unless he can’t stand to let me go. If he knows I’m staying, he may just think I’m convenient.”

  “I think you’re wrong about Harry, but I won’t tell Mike until I have to. I’m thrilled that you want to buy my house. I’ll keep the price low.”

  “I won’t be buying it. Dad promised to buy it for me as a gift,” Melissa said with a giggle. “So price it however you planned. He can afford it!”

  Caroline laughed with her. “Boy, he really does want you to stay, doesn’t he?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It didn’t take Harry long to realize he wanted to talk to Melissa. But it was too late to casually drop in at Caroline’s.

  He was too restless and fidgety to remain at his desk. Instead, he propped himself against a post out on the sidewalk in front of the office, watching the citizens of Rawhide pass by, greeting them all by name.

  He’d been out there at least half an hour when John Randall walked up.

  “Hi, John,” Harry said with a smile, hoping his friend was still talking to him.

  “Hey, Harry. Have you seen Melissa?”

  “No, I haven’t. Mike said she was having a visit at Caroline’s.”

  “Oh. I just knew Mom told her to stop by and remind you about Sunday dinner. She said she’s really looking forward to visiting with you.”

  His heart beat faster. “Melissa said that?”

  “No,” John said with a laugh. “Mom said that.”

  His pulse rate slowed back to normal. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint your mom. She’s a sweet lady.”

  John nodded in agreement. “I’ll tell her you said that.” He pulled a cell phone out of his coat pocket. “Excuse me while I see where Melissa is.”

  Harry stood there, pretending not to listen as John spoke into the device. “When are you coming…? Okay, I’ll meet you at the truck.”

  He turned off the phone. “She’s on her way now.”

  “Where are you parked?”

  He nodded down the street. “By the general store. I’ll just wait here until she comes by.”

  “Good. I’ll enjoy the company.”

  “What are you doing out here, anyway? Don’t you know it’s cold?”

  “It’s not so bad in the sun, and I get to visit with a lot of people I don’t see during the week.”

  “That’s true. And you don’t work on Sunday.”

  “Yeah,” Harry said, looking the other way to check if Melissa was coming.

  “I’ll tell you when I see her,” John said with a grin. “That way you don’t have to throw your back out trying to spot her first.”

  Harry’s cheeks flushed as he muttered, “Thanks.”

  After a minute, John said, “You two didn’t have an argument, did you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Melissa can be hard to understand. Mom says it’s because she and Dad are a lot alike.”

  “I don’t think that’s our problem, I think it has something to do with Pierre,” Harry said dryly.

  John stared at him. “I don’t think she’s interested in him.”

  “Maybe not now, but she’s going back to France, where he’ll be.”

  “Yeah. I don’t like the idea, but she still seems to be planning to do that.” John’s expression turned serious. “We’d all like for Melissa to come back home.” Then he said, “Uh-oh. Here she comes now—and look who’s with her.”

  Harry fought the desire to turn and gaze at her. It seemed a long time since he’d seen her, though in reality it was just last night.

  Before he could give into his urges, Mike stepped outside the office.

  “Hey, John. You helping Harry pass the time?” he asked with a smile. Then, following the young man’s gaze, he noticed the Frenchman walking with Melissa. “What the heck…?”

  Harry turned then and his eyes zeroed in on Melissa, who looked radiant in a navy peacoat with a bright fuchsia scarf and mittens. Unfortunately, she had another accessory. Pierre de Leon.

  Harry could feel his blood boil.

  He held on to his temper as the duo made their way toward the Sheriff’s Office.

  Melissa smiled as she greeted him. “Hello, Harry,” she said, neglecting the other two men. “If you’re still coming to dinner tomorrow after church, would you mind giving Pierre a ride? He’s not sure he can find his way by himself.”

  Harry looked at Pierre and prayed his eyes weren’t shooting the daggers he wanted to thrust at the man. “I thought you were leaving tomorrow.”

  “Mais oui, but my flight does not take off until seven in the evening.”

  “Then I’d be glad to give you a ride,” Harry said through clenched teeth.

  Melissa sent him a brilliant smile. “Good. I’ll wait for you in the truck, John. It’s rather cold out today.”

  With that, she walked away.

  The four men stood there, none of them knowing what to say, until Pierre broke the silence.

  “I shall meet you at what time?” he asked innocently.

  Either the man was that dumb, or he was rubbing Harry’s nose in it. Still, Harry had promised Melissa.

  “Be here at twelve-fifteen, or else I’ll leave without you.” He’d drive him, but he didn’t have to be nice.

  “Then I will bid you goodbye.” Pierre turned and strolled down the street before Harry realized the arrogant guy hadn’t even said thanks.

  “I hear he has a date tonight,” Mike said.

  “With Melissa?” Harry asked despondently.

  “Nope. With a young woman he met last night at the steak house after Melissa and you left.”

  “She doesn’t know, does she?”

  John frowned. “Maybe I should tell her.”

  “I don’t think you should,” Harry said. “You don’t want to break her heart, do you?”

  “I want her to know what she’s getting into if she links up with that Pierre!” He said goodbye and followed his sister to his truck.

  After John walked away, Mike asked, “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. You know how it is when a woman messes with your mind.”

  Mike laughed. “You got that right.”

  JOHN GOT INTO THE TRUCK and slammed his door.

  Melissa knew he was letting her know he wasn’t happy with her. “What?”

  “I’m just telling you now, little sister. When Harry comes to Sunday dinner, you’d better mind your manners and not flirt outrageously with Pierre!”

  “When have you ever seen me flirt outrageously with Pierre?”

  “I haven’t, but I didn’t expect you to invite him to Sunday dinner either.”

  “He invited himself, John. What was I to do?”

  Her brother shook his head. “What’s going on with you and Harry anyway?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right.” John threw the truck into gear and backed
out of his parking spot. “You can explain it to Mom if you don’t mind your manners. She won’t accept that kind of answer.”

  “I can’t explain, John. Please,” Melissa said, unable to hold back a few tears that slid down her cheeks.

  He looked at her and then pulled to a stop at the side of the road. “I’m sorry, sis,” he said, and reached out to wipe them away. “Did Harry do something he shouldn’t? Do I need to go talk to him?”

  Melissa smiled as she rubbed away more tears. “No, he didn’t do anything I didn’t ask him to do. But I don’t think he’s serious about—about us. And it h-hurts.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yes, but not in so many words. I—I could just tell.”

  After he pulled back onto the road, John said, “If it helps any, Harry’s still interested.”

  “You talked about us?” Melissa said.

  “Hell, yeah! We all want you to stay. We miss you, sis.”

  Melissa buried her face in her hands.

  “Did I mess up?”

  Melissa, who was crying again, shook her head. “No, I just— I want a marriage like Mom and Dad have.”

  “And you can’t have that with Harry?”

  “I could. If he wanted to marry me no matter what. But if he married me because I’m a Randall and it’s convenient, it would be a disaster.”

  “You think Harry is like that? I don’t.”

  “You weren’t there, John.”

  “No, I won’t argue that, but I think he’s in love with you.”

  Melissa just closed her eyes. thinking how amazing it would be if that were true.

  AFTER DINNER THAT NIGHT, John pulled his mother aside. “Uh, Mom, did Melissa tell you Pierre is coming for dinner tomorrow?”

  “Along with Harry?” Camille asked. “Why?”

  “She claims he invited himself.”

  “I see.” Camille hesitated as she brought the coffee mug to her lips. “That won’t be a good combination—Pierre and Harry.”

  John nodded. “She and Harry are having problems. And Mike told us that Pierre has a date tonight with a woman he met at the steak house last night. Should I tell Melissa that?”

  “No, dear, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Melissa seems to think Harry is dating her because she’s convenient. I don’t read him that way at all.”

 

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