by Tanya Hanson
“Swedish hearts?”
“Oh, a craft for my class. I’ve got to get a page full of grown-up directions simplified to third grade level.” She wrinkled her nose. Wished she hadn’t shown the rugrats a picture of the things and gotten their danders up.
“You go all out, huh? Braided hearts. Heart-shaped carrots.” His sexy grin stopped her breath.
“Oh, goodness, the carrots are for the horses!” She scuffed her feet in a turn to leave. She ached to stay for a million reasons, but needed to leave for a million more. That gaze of his just about tied her feet to the ground in front of him. “Well, good-bye. I gotta go. Thanks for the information.”
“Glad you stopped by. And Kelsey, when you’re ready to follow those steps, Milk and Honey’ll do what we can.”
Did his parting remark suggest he wanted to see her again? Back at her car, he waved first, still watching as she drove off. His gaze glinted in the rearview mirror before she turned onto the highway and home. In the last flash of sight, Landry finally moved, busied himself locking the chain-link gate. And foolishly, her heart tweaked a little. Even though she’d said no, twice or was it three times?—she wished he’d said I’ll do what I can.
She sighed. You can’t have it all.
****
Landry stalked to the house and banged the screen door behind him. His furrowed brow stared back at him from his sister’s hallway mirror. A long, long time since any woman had said no to being with him. He didn’t much like the feeling.
Truth was, most times he did the refusing. Holding off pop stars seeking Americana photo-ops, keeping at bay minor European royalty in pursuit of a Wild West cowboy. Or the current divorced/separated/estranged Housewife of Somewhere Stupid wanting to appear wholesome.
He grumbled. And coffee wasn’t even a date.
On his way to the kitchen, he passed a credenza crowded with framed pictures. All the right family ones, but far too many of him.
From inside Amy’s fridge, he grabbed a bottle of cold water, held it against his hot face, then slammed the appliance door. Grunted, wondered at his pique. Maybe because he had decided to come home. To stay this time. Maybe try to find what Amy and Declan had had. Something real.
Even though it hadn’t lasted long enough for his sister. Iraq…There was something different about Kelsey Hunter. Something real about a hard-working woman in tight jeans helping out critters. He took a long swig, remembered. Stretchy pink tank top damp in the right places. Righteous dirt underneath her fingernails. Cinnamon freckles sprinkled across her nose, bright eyes, and brunette hair just a tad lighter than dark-roast coffee mixed with cream. All delicious.
Coffee!
“My goodness, big brother, what’s the deal?” Amy interrupted, trudging in from the living room. She reached for her car keys from a basket on the granite counter. Joy flitted across her face even now. The old house’s kitchen renovation had been his gift to her two Christmases ago. Sometimes his shoulder still felt the damp tears of her gratitude.
For a flash, he glanced out the window up into the hills. He couldn’t see the construction site from here, but he knew exactly where it was. Winsome Hill, the eco-friendly house he was building for himself. Amy had great taste all her own. Her choices for the place had been spot on. Just the right touch of woman for a bachelor pad.
And not so much to threaten another woman.
“You look like you’ve gone and lost your best friend,” she said.
Landry grumbled. He hadn’t had any real friends for far too long. Just hangers-on. Sycophants. An “entourage” of butt-kissers eager for handouts.
“Don’t you have to get Corky at soccer practice?” He grumped, sublimated Kelsey out of the conversation. As well as any visions of her next to him at Winsome Hill.
Amy shrugged. “He’s at Murphy’s. I’ll be on my way in a second. What’s wrong with you?”
“Why do you keep out so many pictures of, you know, all those pictures?” He pointed. Magazine covers. Headshots. Stills from commercials…
“Now come on, Lan. Those pictures were Mom’s, for one thing. She was very proud of you. We all are, still.”
Mom. They were both quiet for a little while, turning in the same motion to the display of frames across the open kitchen. Landry’s heart panged, again. Breast cancer. At least Amy had been tested and found negative for the gene.
“I just…” His next contract was due to be signed by the end of the month.
Amy touched his shoulder. “I miss her, too. But Tall Timber Jeans made you a media star, Landry. Gave you success. You’ve been able to take care of all of us. I mean, Mom got top-notch medical treatment. Corky’s college fund—no matter where he enrolls. And well, everything you’ve done to rehab this house and get my dream up and running. I’ll never have to worry again.”
He nodded but tightened his jaw. “I know. I know. I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. It just seems time for something else other than getting plastered all over billboards and the internet. And I guess I’m not sure just what that is. I mean…” He waved his hands. “You’re set here at Milk and Honey Farms, but you don’t really need me. And I’ll be moving to my own place next week. Soon as the new bedroom furniture is delivered.” Close enough not to be in anybody’s hair.
For a flash, he was grateful he had the funds for the custom-made pieces—nothing store-bought quite fit with all the low-slung windows and curved spaces.
“Landry, there’s always a place for you here, you know that. I kind of understand, though.” Amy ruffled his hair. “You know, how big changes force us…into decisions. But at least you have a choice.”
Her voice softened. Declan…
“But bro, know this.” Her smile was real. “You became the Tall Timber Man for two reasons. Your face and your butt. You’ll be hard to replace. And there will be hearts breaking all over the world.”
He barked a laugh and smacked her playfully on her own behind.
“So what’s really wrong?” She slid her stylish glasses to the bridge of her nose and peered over the frames like a professor. “I don’t think it’s really Tall Timber Jeans.”
“Um, just met an interesting woman is all.”
“Ah.” Amy’s eyes brightened. “You? Tell me more?”
“Don’t get excited. Not much to tell.” He took a long swig of water to cool down his thoughts. Shrugged to settle her down. “A customer. Make that potential customer. She was mucking at the horse rescue up the road and came by with some questions about carrots.” Didn’t buy a thing, but as Amy had just reminded him, Landry had made sure his sister had no financial worries.
“So? You didn’t know the answers. Don’t get your ego tweaked.” She chuckled. “There’s always the internet. And just saying, hey I don’t know but I’ll find out.”
Find out? Sure he wanted to find out more. “Something about growing heart-shaped carrots.” He leaned against the mahogany Shaker-style pantry door.
Amy put the keys down, eyes narrowed into brown slits. “I know that look. There’s something more going on. Or more you want to go on.”
“Maybe. But don’t start planning a wedding.”
Landry tried but failed to overlook the zing he’d felt meeting Kelsey from the get-go. At thirty-six, he wanted more than casual hook-ups but rarely felt a thing upon meeting someone. He ached for the real deal. Their father had taken off with a new family and never looked back. Landry had sworn to never be that guy. So he was cautious, if not downright paranoid.
“Ames, you know how tired I am of the Hollywood types.” The more ex’s the merrier. Just like karats in a diamond…
“Oh, yeah, I see. You want a country girl.” Her hands clenched with faux excitement. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Ten Oaks is a small town. Describe her. Maybe I know her from Corky’s Boy Scout troop or church or something. Maybe I can set something up.”
Might as well jump in. “You just might know her. I’m pretty sure she said she teaches at Homewood.
Where Corky goes, right? Kelsey Hunter. Single. Third grade.”
“Hmmmm.” Amy’s smile went sideways in thought. “I doubt I’ve met her. The primary grade classrooms are way across campus from the junior high kids.” Her voice slowed; her eyelashes flickered, sparkled with wet “I can’t believe Corky’s almost a teenager.”
Landry’s heart ached at her tone. Declan hadn’t lived long enough to learn his baby’s gender. Time to jump back to the present before wiping away tears.
“Maybe I could join the parent volunteer group and meet her,” he said. “Or hang out at the horse rescue.”
Amy glared at him. “Nope. Too stalkery. But like I said, Ten Oaks is a small town. If it’s meant to be, you’ll meet up with her again. Maybe she’ll even come back here to buy those carrots or something.” Her pretty face twisted in thought. “Hmmm. Kelsey Hunter? You know, I think I remember some scuttlebutt about her.”
“You mean gossip?”
She flushed.
Landry rolled his eyes. “Of course. It’s a small town. Do I need to believe it? Or even hear it?”
“Yeah. She’s the L.A. girl who fell hard for Gunnar. He even got her got her to move here. So be gentle. She didn’t even know about Elise and the kids. Until the day they came back, you know.”
“Bastard.” And Gunnar Ragner was. Spoiled rich kid. Fancy movie director’s son…divorced parents each determined to buy his love and shove his raunch under the rug. Never man enough to deal with the consequences. But if Kelsey’d loved him, did that mean she was a celebrity chaser? Yet… “She didn’t run back home.”
That had to mean something, didn’t it? Her heart can’t be that broken. Her spirits that crushed. Seems Landry had come back at a good time.
“Yeah, she’s still here. And the Ragners are gone. Maybe she’s got a thick skin. Or has a contract at Homewood to fulfill. I don’t know.” Amy started to move, but looked back at him. “But as a woman, I suspect she might not even be ready after something like that. Especially another rich dude with celebrity ties.”
Landry’s mood darkened. “I’m no rich celebrity.”
She punched his arm. “Your bank account says different, big brother. And yes, you are a celebrity, Mr. Mega-model. Magazine covers don’t lie, and you were on the Bill Busby Show just last month. But…” She chewed a lip. “At least you don’t have a wife and kids you need to lie about. Just, you know. Take it slow.”
Chapter Two
Kelsey stretched her legs over the coffee table and swirled the malbec around her glass, headed in for a sniff. Laughed at herself. Like she could tell the difference. A smidge of guilt brushed her, though. California’s wines were world-renowned and here she was, indulging in something from Argentina. And a cheap vintage at that in a dollar-store goblet.
Cheap or not, she took a long, appreciate sip. She deserved this splurge. Deciphering the upcoming project had gone down as easy as the wine. If she prevailed upon enough of the stay-at-home moms to be teachers aides for an afternoon, the braided hearts would work out just fine. And they opened up into little two-sided baskets Kelsey could fill with a treat or two.
And if the new yoga pants were any more comfortable, she’d be settling in for a long winter’s nap.
Her grandma’s antique mantel clock chimed eight times. The fireplace had been the principal reason she’d rented this charming place. No such thing as urban cracker box apartment complexes in hilly Ten Oaks.
She got up. Time to hit her DVR recorded list for a Heart-to-Heart Talk marathon. Since it was Valentine month, the cable channel played reruns of the long-ago romance game show in ten-episode chunks, repeated over and over. Oh, how she loved the show. Never tired of it. Loved walking backward in time to the days of her girlhood when the whole of life stretched ahead and you almost touched every dream. Simple, uncomplicated. When you never imagined a louse for a lover. First in college. Then…Gunnar.
Nope, girls always imagined a hero.
For a weird second, Landry Mills flashed inside Kelsey’s head when she reached for the remote. Not a knight in shining armor on a white horse. A cowboy on, say, Comanche from the rescue, as soon as the gelding was rehabilitated, ready to trust a rider again. Then she shuttered her mind. Was she ready to trust again? Landry had clearly said no spouse, no kids. But Gunnar had done the same. No spouse due to divorce. Her heart panged. And no mention of kids despite three of them.
Then his not-even-legally separated wife and kids had come back from her folks’ place in Oregon, seeking reconciliation, Last May. Just in time for Mother’s Day.
No. Her heart panged again. It’d be hard to trust again.
Her smartphone wiggled, spat out the ring tone she’d promptly changed from Stand by Your Man to Kiss This. Yes, she’d make it on her own.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Babygirl.”
Kelsey could almost hear her mom’s smile. And she might be thirty one, but had accepted she’d always be an infant. Her dad yelled a hello from the background where it sounded like a House of Cards binge going on. “Just wanted to invite you to Sunday dinner. It’s been quite a while. The kids miss you.”
Kids. Her older brother Drew’s darling boy and girl.
Kelsey missed them back, but… “Thanks, Mom. I miss you all, too, but I’ve got a lot going on. You were a teacher, too. We did report cards just before Christmas break, but I’ve already got progress reports to write.”
“Ugh. I do remember those days, but…”
Before guilt prevailed, Kelsey had to step in. “Mom, I am really okay.” She knew the real reason for the call. It was the normal time of year for teachers to look for another school. And she didn’t need to run home and cry on her mommy’s shoulder. “I know you don’t get it, but I like it here. Things didn’t work out quite like I planned…” She swallowed one last gasp of bitterness. “…but that happens in different ways to everybody, all the time. I like Homewood. For once, the principal isn’t a toad. The school is well-funded. I don’t have to buy supplies for my students. They love me. Their parents respect me. And I love Ten Oaks…”
A vision of Landry Mills wiggled inside her head, and she stilled it. And she didn’t, wouldn’t, say out loud that she refused to go back to her old life and admit failure. To own up that all her instincts had been wrong. Not to mention the salary at an upscale private school beat out the hassles and overdrawn checks down in L.A.
“Honey, we…” Her mother tried to get in a word sideways.
“Mom, I got royally screwed. Hideously dumped. But I’m fine. Truly. I can hold up my head. School’s great. I love volunteering at the horse rescue. And I’m sure not going to crawl back home with my tail between my legs. Please accept it.”
She was going to make it all on her own here in Ten Oaks.
Still, refusing coffee with the hot cowboy seemed a bad decision now.
Oh, well.
“All right, Kels. How about I talk everybody into driving up there weekend after next? The kids sure enjoy petting those horses. And your dad wants to try out Ten Oaks Golf Course.”
“Sounds like a plan. Hug Daddy, please.” Kelsey chuckled. She loved them all dearly, but the distance was a good thing. Especially with the circumstances that had led her here. No sorrowing eyes and weepy smiles to deal with on a daily basis. Even if the grownups of Ten Oaks pitied her, her students didn’t, and she read only love in their eyes. “Bye, Mom. Hug everybody for me.”
She made kissy sounds like she’d done for the horses before hanging up and hitting rewind. Aw, she’d seen this rerun not long ago, but in her mind, each episode was a keeper.
Heart-to-Heart Talk’s premise was simple. An attractive contestant of either gender, faced three potential dates of the opposite. For every question the contestant asked, the three held up a twelve-inch plastic enlargement of the traditional conversation heart candies. The big heart bore a pertinent comment. The contestant selected the best response, and then asked for elaboration.
Right n
ow, a pretty woman with a wavy perm and a strapless leopard print dress sat in front of three handsome men clad in various stages of grunge.
“What’s the most important thing you’d like me to know about you?” she moaned into the camera, trying to be coy. Her cleavage said otherwise. Somebody ooh-la-la-ed from the audience. Everybody else howled.
Yellow heart: Bad boy.
Pink heart: Kissable.
Blue heart: Dr. Love.
“Oh, pick Kissable,” Kelsey mumbled into Gram’s soft throw of colorful crocheted squares. His jeans were the least ripped, and his hair looked like it might have been washed in the last week.
But “Aggie” picked Dr. Love, listened, rapt, to his remarks, then covered all bases by kissing him lightly while crooning bad boy, hand in hand. The herd, except for the moderator, left the stage. The new couple was bound for an Italian restaurant somewhere on Melrose.
The audience clapped and catcalled, and Kelsey fast-forwarded through it all and a half dozen commercials as well. No escape, even on cable. Then she rubbed her eyes, hard. She hadn’t had too much wine. After all, tomorrow was a school day, but for some reason, the next contestant hustled on stage and morphed into a younger version of Landry Mills. Well-fitting jeans, classic white western shirt with stud buttons…
No, it couldn’t be. Kelsey was finally losing her mind. But that rugged, blond-brown hair…
The Moderator, in a fancy suit with, very white teeth: “Before we introduce your ‘threesome’”—he gave a wicked, suggestive chuckle—“tell us about you. Your name, hometown. Occupation.”
“Landry Mills. Ten Oaks, California. College student.”
It was him! The voice had graveled with time, but she’d know it anywhere. Kelsey’s heart stopped. Good heavens, the guy was made for a camera. Of course. She’d seen this rerun a thousand times. That’s why he’d looked familiar earlier today.
Wow. Her skin prickled in such a good way.
“So where’s Ten Oaks?” Moderator’s teeth seemed bigger.
“Small town in the hills of western Ventura County. Just below the Topa Topa Mountains.”
