His Forever Valentine

by Marie Ferrarella

  They didn’t believe her, not that she could actually blame them. At her heaviest, she’d weighed in at one-twenty. These days the scale only reached up to one-twelve and that was after she gorged herself.

  “All right,” Val said gamely. “Let me see one of your menus.”

  Miss Joan obliged, presenting her with a laminated double-sided page. Turning toward Rafe, she asked, “You don’t need one, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Not unless you changed it recently.”

  Miss Joan smiled, then quoted one of her favorite sayings. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” She’d been using the same menu now for the past couple of years and business was just as booming now as it ever had been. “The only thing different is that we have some really good pastries these days, thanks to Gabe’s fiancée,” she interjected for Val’s benefit. “But there’s no sense trying to put that down on a menu ’cause Angel changes it every day, making whatever it is that moves her at the time.” Miss Val leaned in and lowered her voice. “She’s also helping me keep Eduardo in line,” the older woman confided, nodding her head toward the kitchen. “The old coot’s stopped talking about retiring and leaving me stranded ever since I hired on Angel back in early December.”

  Pausing for effect, Miss Joan smiled triumphantly. “She and Gabe’ll be getting married soon, I expect.” That had been for Val’s benefit. And then she looked at Rafe. “That only leaves three of you Rodriguez boys at home,” the woman pointed out as if it wasn’t something that Rafe was keenly aware of. Miss Joan’s amber eyes shifted back to Val. “Made up your mind yet, honey?”

  Maybe it was her imagination but she could have sworn that the way the woman asked the question, she wasn’t really talking about lunch.

  Be that as it may, Val was not about to get herself caught up in something that she had no intention of taking part in. Her mother and her mother’s friends had already tried to get her to begin going out socially again. But anything other than a girls’ night out was still out of the question as far as she was concerned.

  Maybe it always would be.

  All she knew was that she was not about to dive into the deep end of the pool again. Not even with a mask and water wings to protect her. One broken heart was more than enough for her.

  “I think I’ll have the chicken enchilada,” Val decided, handing the menu back to Miss Joan.

  “Just one?” Miss Joan asked, accepting the menu.

  Most likely she could do justice to at least two enchiladas, but she didn’t want to commit herself to more than one until she knew what it tasted like. She could eat one no matter what it tasted like. Two, however, would be pushing it.

  “For starters,” Val answered pleasantly.

  “But you could eat more,” Miss Joan pressed.

  “I could,” Val allowed.

  Miss Joan smiled her approval. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

  * * *

  “WHERE ARE YOU staying?” Rafe asked.

  It was the tail end of the day, one they had spent together. After lunch at the diner, he had taken her around to see the rest of the town. He’d introduced her to the people he felt she might want to meet and would want to possibly introduce to her boss once the deal to film here had been finalized all around.

  The idea of that taking place began to fill him with a degree of enthusiasm. It would definitely be a change of pace for the town, not to mention that it meant he’d be able to see Val for a while. The possibility of that made him smile even more. A sense of anticipation began to take hold of him.

  After they’d finished with the town, Rafe had also acted as her tour guide for the outlining areas, as well, bringing her to the reservation where Joe Lone Wolf, one of the deputies who worked with Alma, had been born. The tour was a deliberately slow process that allowed her to absorb the majesty of the remote area.

  He enjoyed watching the way her face lit up when she took in a particularly breathtaking view. Val genuinely reacted to the land the way he did and he particularly liked that.

  But now the sun had begun to set and although he had a feeling that she was trying desperately not to show it, Val was getting tired. With that in mind, he’d taken her back to the diner—and her CRV—and insisted on buying her dinner, which he managed to do over her protest.

  When they came back into the diner, Miss Joan had greeted her as if she were an old friend rather than someone she’d met just that morning.

  After being given the full tour and enjoying the local color, Val had to admit that part of her could see the very real appeal of living in a place like Forever.

  But she shut away that thought almost the moment it popped into her head. This was a nice place to visit, but she belonged in the hustle and bustle of a place like Hollywood, not in a place where, if you listened really hard, you could hear the cacti growing. She needed excitement more than she needed tranquility.

  “Why?” she asked him, referring to Rafe’s question as to where she was spending the night. “Are you looking to get yourself invited over?”

  The second the words were out of her mouth, she realized that she’d attributed traits to him that were unwarranted. He hadn’t hit on her once today, being nothing but the perfect gentleman, even when he’d fallen on top of her, saving her from the bull. She had to admit that it had caused her to wonder if there was something wrong with her, but that was just her insecurity.

  “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m afraid I was just thinking about the guys back home. They tend to be a little, let’s say, pushy.”

  He couldn’t say that he blamed those men. The woman next to him not only had a gorgeous face, but she had a killer body, as well, the kind that could make many a man sit up and beg. She was probably accustomed to that sort of behavior and he didn’t want to get lumped in with a crowd of other men. He wanted, for whatever short duration, to stand out from the crowd. The crowd of men who called her and insisted on leaving text messages. He’d heard her phone signaling her all day.

  “Wasn’t trying to be pushy or get invited over,” he told her quietly. “I was just going to offer to accompany you there and make sure you got in safely. And,” he admitted, “to be honest I was also kind of curious who you were staying with.”

  “Staying with?” Val echoed, slightly bewildered.

  “Yeah. Forever doesn’t have a hotel or motel, although there’s been some talk that they just might start building one for visitors. But I didn’t see a trailer when I took you out on that tour of the area.”

  She laughed, going for the sidebar first. “I’d suggest that your town council give the okay to start building fast. Film groupies tend to like to visit where a movie’s been filmed.”

  His eyes widened. She could see that even in the growing darkness. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope,” she answered, drawing an invisible cross over her heart. “You’d be surprised how loyal some movie fans can be. If the hero kisses the heroine by that tree,” she pointed to one in the distance, “they’ll want to come here and carve their initials in it. As for where I’m staying,” she continued, “it’s a hotel clear in the next town.” Mission Ridge, she thought it was called.

  “That’s fifty miles away,” he pointed out.

  She nodded. “I know. That didn’t sound like much this morning when I started driving around, looking,” Val admitted. “But now, I know it’s going to feel more like five-hundred miles than fifty.”

  Rafe made her an offer that he felt was only polite. “You could stay at our place if you’d like,” he told the young woman.

  She smiled. “You mean stay at the Old Homestead?” she teased. “Tempting as that sounds, I think that just might give your Miss Joan a bit too much to talk about. She already looks as if she’s envisioning the two of us being an ‘item,’” Val replied, using the old-fashioned word she
felt would probably come more easily to the other woman’s tongue.

  Rafe supposed that he could see her point. He didn’t want to seem as if he was pressuring her, he was just looking out for her. “If it made you feel better, you could stay at Alma’s.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she absorbed what he was telling her. “You’re volunteering your sister’s place?” she asked. And then humor curved the corners of her mouth. “I don’t know if she’d take kindly to that. Besides, didn’t you tell me that Alma recently married Miss Joan’s stepson?”

  “Yeah, I did. She did,” he added. “But he’s cool. He won’t say anything to Miss Joan, especially if you don’t want him to.” He put a hand on her shoulder, intending to create a bond to get his point across. However, he could feel something else happening, as well, something transcending a mere bond. He tried to put it out of his mind as he told her, “Hospitality’s important to us out here and besides, you look like you might just be too tired to drive. I counted five yawns in the past hour and I sure as hell hope it’s because you’re tired and not because of the company you’re keeping.”

  She laughed softly then and the sound went straight to his gut. “Definitely not the company,” she assured him. She pressed her lips together as she thought over his offer. It definitely had appeal. “You sure your father won’t mind if I turn up on his doorstep?”

  “What he’d mind is if I let you drive your vehicle all the way back to Mission Ridge in your present tired condition. Even with my following you, it’s still asking for trouble,” he pointed out.

  She thought about it for a moment. She loved being independent, but she had to admit that he did have a point. She had stayed out longer than she’d intended. She’d gotten caught up in the conversation and the stories he had to tell. It had made her lose track of time and now she really did feel rather wiped out.

  Although Val was fairly sure that she wouldn’t drive into some ditch, there was no sense in taking chances. The cemetery was filled with people who didn’t think that they would fall asleep on the road.

  “Okay, if you’re absolutely positive that your father won’t mind, we can go back to your family’s ranch.”

  Rafe grinned at her. “Dad won’t mind, but out of curiosity, why didn’t you pick Alma’s place?”

  There was a very simple reason for that. “Because, according to what Miss Joan said, Alma and her husband haven’t been married all that long and newlyweds don’t need to have a third wheel hanging around them.”

  He hadn’t thought about it that way. “Maybe you’re right,” he agreed for form’s sake. He was actually thinking that he was glad she’d decided to come back to the ranch with him. “Tell you what,” he began. “Why don’t we leave your vehicle here and I’ll drive us to the ranch?”

  “Leave it here?” she repeated, glancing at the CRV uncertainly. She didn’t like the idea of leaving a vehicle unattended overnight. Where she came from, that was how cars got stripped.

  “Sure. Nobody’ll bother it,” he assured her, “and since you’re coming to our ranch, I’ll be there in the morning to bring you back to town—and to your car. There’s no point in both of us driving there and back—and there’s always that danger that you might fall asleep behind the wheel—which is what we’re trying to avoid by your staying at the ranch in the first place.”

  She nodded and had to admit that he was making sense. “Okay, you win. Take me to your place.”

  He ushered her over to his Jeep. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  She wondered if it was her imagination, but his grin did look rather wicked.

  Chapter Seven

  On second thought, it wasn’t a wicked grin, it was just sleepy, wishful thinking on her part, Val decided, nothing more. If she wasn’t so sleepy, she would have been able to hold the thought at bay—or maybe it wouldn’t have even occurred to her in the first place.

  She’d already told her mother, all of her friends and even herself a couple of times that she didn’t want to venture into the turbulent waters of a relationship again yet—no matter how enticing the man in the center of those waters might be. For now, she was done with that.

  Maybe forever.

  Granted, she’d gotten married much too young and, who knew, had Scott lived they might have even been divorced by now—although she rather doubted it.

  But she was smart enough to know that the man you love at eighteen is not always the one you still love at twenty-six; while Scott had a lot of adorable aspects to him, there had been some serious points of conflict between them that had only begun to emerge just before he’d died.

  Still, her heart told her that they would have survived all that and continued to be in love. Now she’d never know. All she did know was that she just wouldn’t go through that pain of loss again.

  “You look serious,” Rafe commented, looking at the expression that had descended over her face as she got into the Jeep.

  Val began to buckle up. She’d been smiling or on the verge of smiling all day and he’d gotten accustomed to seeing that smile on her face. Right now, she looked as if she was a million miles away, trying to figure out how to get back.

  “Something wrong?” he asked. When she made no answer, he tried again. “Anything you want to share, or that I can do?” he prodded. Getting in, Rafe pulled his seat belt out and secured it.

  “Hmm?” His voice had broken into her thoughts and she realized she’d gotten sidetracked again. Instantly, she flashed a wide, yet weary smile in his direction. There was no way she was about to tell him what she was thinking.

  “No, this is my tired face,” Val apologized. “You were right. Driving an extra fifty miles right now would not be a good idea, but I’m still a little concerned that your father is going to think I’m trying to take advantage of him by turning up like this.”

  “Not a problem,” he assured her. “Trust me, there’s nothing Dad likes better than being taken advantage of by a pretty girl.” Rafe inserted his key into the ignition, turned it and let his Jeep warm up. “And you definitely qualify.”

  Val laughed softly, shaking her head. It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard the words before, but coming out of his mouth, they somehow sounded nicer. She could even half believe that he meant them.

  “You keep flattering me like that,” she warned, “and you’re going to wind up giving me a swelled head.”

  “I don’t flatter, I call them as I see them,” Rafe told her, trying to sound as serious as he could. “And from what I’ve seen today,” he continued, being honest, “you seem pretty grounded to me. Grounded people don’t get swelled heads.”

  “How would you know that I was grounded?” she questioned with a small, dismissive laugh. He’d only known her for—what?—twelve hours? Less?

  “If you weren’t grounded, you would have eaten up the attention you were getting at the diner. Eaten it up and played it up,” he added.

  “Have it your way,” Val said with a surrendering sigh. “I’m too tired to argue the point.” And she was. The rumbling engine was all but lulling her to sleep and she was fighting hard to keep her eyes opened. “Try me again tomorrow,” she told him.

  “Deal,” he answered, then angled his head slightly in her direction as he backed out of his parking spot. He turned the vehicle around and headed for the outskirts of town and his family’s ranch. “Hey, this okay?” he asked her.

  The question seemed to come out of the blue. In addition, her eyelids began to feel as if each weighed just slightly less than a ton apiece.

  “Is what okay?” she asked. As far as she could see, nothing readily applied itself to the word this at the moment.

  “The radio. I’ve got the station set to country, but if you’d rather listen to something else, I can switch stations for you,” he offered.

  “Country’s fine,” she tol
d him, then added something that surprised him, since she came from the Southern-California coast. “I like country music.”

  He spared her a puzzled look. He would’ve expected her to favor some kind of popular, trendy music instead. “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.” Damn those eyelids, why were they so heavy and so impossible to hold up?

  He wondered if she was pulling his leg. “Why?” Rafe pressed.

  Her mind was drifting and she almost asked “why what?” before she remembered what the fledgling conversation was about. Country music. Something she’d recently gotten into.

  “Because a lot of the songs tell a story. Makes me think,” she answered in a low voice that turned into a whisper with the last word.

  Just then, his engine made one of its odd noises, the way it did on occasion, and it managed to drown out the sound of her soft voice. He was about to ask Val to repeat what she’d just said when he saw that her eyes were now shut and her breathing had become very even.

  Rafe smiled to himself knowingly. “Looks like the mighty location scout is pretty human after all,” he mused aloud.

  He turned his attention back to the darkened road and continued to drive. Rafe absently wondered how long it would be before her scent faded from the interior of his vehicle.

  Not soon, he hoped.

  Reaching for the radio dial—the radio was as old as the vintage Jeep he drove—he lowered the volume a little just in case a loud song suddenly came on. He didn’t want to chance waking her. He had a hunch she drove herself pretty hard and needed this rest.

  An old, classic crying-in-your-beer song came on just as he straightened in his seat. The next moment, he became aware not of the words he heard but of the soft pressure against his shoulder. Val’s head had fallen to the side and made contact with his shoulder. Fast asleep, she was using him as a pillow.

  He supposed he could just gently push her back into her previous position, but again, he didn’t want to wake her. And besides, he couldn’t exactly say that he minded having her lean against him like this.