Pick Me

by Tanya Hanson

  Wasn’t it time to let loose about his past career as a mega-model spokesperson and his current plans to make Winsome Hill his permanent home? “Kelsey…”

  “Oh gosh, Landry!” She jumped up, stuffed her phone in her purse, and dug in it some more. “Maggie’s already got us a table. The Crawly Crab will only hold it fifteen minutes if the whole party isn’t there. I’ve gotta leave right now, I’m sorry. Thanks for the coffee. Please, let’s get the carrots started soon. Or something else, okay? Thanks. My number’s on it.” She handed him a Homewood business card, squeezed his shoulder, as a friend might. But her eyes definitely flirted and his toes stabbed with heat.

  It had been a real date in his book.

  Chapter Four

  Kelsey’s smartphone sang her awake at six thirty Saturday morning. MOM lit up on the caller ID.

  “What’s wrong?” She didn’t bother even with a hello. Early morning calls never brought good news. Her heart pounded in a way she didn’t like.

  “Oh, honey, calm down. Nothing serious. I just wanted to reach you before you left for the rescue. I know you go in early. I’m sorry but…we won’t be making it today.”

  “Why not? Is everything okay?” Kelsey willed her heart to slow. “Tomorrow maybe? I’ve got a nice dinner planned.”

  Or not. Not exactly a chef, and trying out a new recipe to boot…maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

  “I wish. Daddy took us all to lunch at Tostina’s yesterday.” Her mother’s tone was pretty calm, which helped Kelsey relax. “I don’t know if it’s food poisoning or a bug, but he and Drew and the baby have been up all night sick.”

  “Oh, ick. Oh no!” Kelsey shuddered but grinned, too. Baby? Delia was already three years old. “I’m so sorry. Let me come down and give you a hand.”

  “Absolutely not. If it’s contagious, you don’t need to catch it. Diana and I have everything covered. We’re only a block apart. We’ll make it next weekend. I wanted to let you know early. Before you got anything started.”

  “All right then. Tell everybody to get better, and you stay well, okay? Let me know if you decide you do need me.”

  She kissed into the phone, then snuggled back into her pillows, eager for a few thoughts of Landry before she got up for the day. Once again, the heat of his shoulder tingled across her fingertips.

  Oh but she wished she hadn’t had to run off. Had she shared too darn much about Gunnar? What guy wanted to hear about another man she hadn’t been able to hang on to?

  Maybe Landry thought she had loser tendencies? Or stuck around Ten Oaks because she was afraid? What did he mean, though, that whatever had brought her to Ten Oaks, he was glad it had? She’d never quite looked at Gunnar’s abandonment as another chance for someone else.

  She groaned. Maggie’s pronouncement that she’d have been just fine if Kelsey had cancelled the fish taco plans had only made matters worse.

  After a couple of fitful catnaps, she made a cup of coffee—coffee!—with her singleton brewer, climbed into jeans, and headed to the rescue.

  Maggie was already weighing hay. Each bale pulled apart into “flakes” and while the same approximate size, each flake was different in density and weight. Since some horses needed to gain weight, others lose it, feeding the proper amount of hay, by pounds, was important.

  “I told you last night, and I meant it. You can always change plans with me if there’s a man involved.” Maggie plunked hay in a four-wheeled cart, used the classroom tone she had perfected.

  Kelsey filled feed buckets with alfalfa pellets and the individualized supplements each horse required, and stopped at the barn door with her load. Hope her facial muscles screamed the indignation she felt.

  “You make me sound needy and desperate. I am neither.” She did wish her hands weren’t full, though, so she could check the phone stashed in her pocket. Just in case Landry had called.

  “I didn’t mean that. I meant Ten Oaks is a small town. Not that many single guys running loose. And I think…” Maggie’s mouth pouted. “I think you’re done with the big-city types.”

  “Well, you managed to find Doug.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Maggie’s gaze turned dreamy under the brim of her ball cap.

  “The thing is, I’ve got ten tons of vegetables and nothing to do with them. I doubt Milk and Honey takes returns.”

  Milk and Honey brought Landry roaring into Kelsey’s head. Not that she was plotting to see him again.

  Maggie helped her out. “Well, you could try. I know you want to see Landry again.”

  “Shut up. I’ve been thinking…there’s that little housewares boutique on Hill Street. Behind Main.”

  “Oh yeah. Kitchen Contraptions. I bought a bridal shower gift for Miss Doulton there. Why?”

  “Miss Doulton?”

  “Louise Doulton. Head of the school board.”

  “She’s like sixty.”

  Maggie shrugged. “Somebody loves her.”

  Kelsey shot her an eye-roll. “I’m thinking if anybody has heart-shaped molds, they do. Then I’ll call Landry and maybe plan to meet at the school garden someday after school. Someday next week. If I let the class know in time, I bet a few of the kids could help, too.”

  “Or not. Then you can have him all to yourself.” Maggie blinked fast, and Kelsey punched her arm. “You know what, Kels.”

  “What now?”

  They headed for the stalls. Anticipating their breakfasts, the horses sputtered whickers of affection.

  Maggie stopped to fill Comanche’s slow feeder. “Maybe you should pick an easier project. Landry himself said it was just theoretical. And you’re dealing with nine year olds. They want results now. Maybe heart-shaped cookies for them, and, you know. Cutting heart-shapes right from grown-up vegetables for the horses.”

  “I dunno.” Kelsey dumped in the pellets, reluctant to discard her initial venture. Especially if it meant working side-by-side with Landry for weeks and weeks in a garden…

  And maybe a whole year, too.

  “Okay, then.” Maggie paused with Ahab’s hay in her hands. “Since I think what you really mean is a reason to see Landry again. And again.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Make me.” Maggie grinned out the fourth-grader threat. “I at least have your dilemma decided for tonight. You know, all those veggies you have.”

  Kelsey groaned and bent down for another bucket. “What’s that? Don’t say I have to can them or get a dehydrator. Or make vegetable noodles with your pasta-maker. Or anything else I am so not interested in.”

  “Well, you should be interested in this. Calling Landry and inviting him for dinner. It’s the perfect solution.” Maggie nodded so hard her cap bobbled. “He’s already offered to help you cook. So he’s probably free. Your vegetables won’t go to waste. And you’d be so busy there wouldn’t be any awkward first-date moments.”

  Dang Maggie was good.

  “Well, we didn’t have any awkward moments having coffee.”

  “Last minute coffee at the Brew Bask does not constitute a date. Now, admit my idea has merit.

  Kelsey had to admit it did, and then some. Pellets clattered into metal feed bins. “Okay, you’re right. It’s a great idea. There’ll be so much food; you and Doug could come too.”

  Maggie glared. “Assistant Fire Chief Douglas Dunn Thompson and I have had exactly two real dates so far. Considering the first quick coffee does not count in my opinion. That’s not enough romantic history yet to double with somebody. Much less somebody just starting out with somebody else. So thanks, but no. Now…I can get the guys in the west stalls fed without you. You dig out your phone and call Landry. It’s the perfect reason.”

  “I won’t seem…grasping or forward?” Sounded delicious no matter what.

  Maggie dropped everything, placed her hands on hips and rolled her eyes. “Girl, this is the twenty-first century. If women didn’t make some of the moves, the human race would cease to exist. Besides, this man has already said he’s
glad you moved to Ten Oaks. So get down and dirty and make him gladder.”

  “Okay.” Kelsey’s fingers shook as she dug the phone from her jeans and found the quiet shade of an orange tree. All those awkward teenage phone calls hummed in her memories. Hearing Landry’s voice over the airwaves, what was that going to be like?

  But she didn’t have to. Both disappointment and relief brushed her. He’d texted instead. And not chat-abbreviations either, which in her opinion was another language in itself. Real words. Correct punctuation.

  Not sure if you’re an early riser so holding off calling. Wish you’d been able to stay longer at BB. Hope the tacos were tasty.

  And maybe relief won out. She wasn’t in the sensibility to hear a no, no matter what he’d said yesterday. Reading it would be better. Thank God for modern tech. And well, she started out with the one abbrev she actually did use.

  @ the rescue. Yeah, good. Family plans changed. How about ratatouille for two tonight?

  Since she was expecting the written word, her phone all but jumped from her hands when it rang a second later.

  “’Morning, Kelsey. And yes. I can’t imagine anything finer.” His deep voice brushed her with heat and tickled every nerve ending….

  “Hi.” She fought for breath, reliving the teenager she’d been when the biggest man on campus had actually asked her to Homecoming. Like she had back then, she gulped three more times before attempting to speak again. “Good morning. I was so glad to get your text. Listen, the Hunter herd is down with a bug, and I’ve got all your sister’s goodies to cook up. I’d so love a hand.”

  “Wow. Sorry ’bout that. Hope the herd is better soon. But yeah, I’d love to lend a hand.”

  “Great!” She tingled at his sultry tone, and her confidence soared. “They’ll be up here next week. But I want the extreme farm to table experience when they get here. Not something wilted and a week old. So who better to try out my new recipe on? And I’d love a sous chef. Then, too.”

  She hoped he could hear her flirting back…

  “What if…what if…” His voice slowed, and her heart sank at some complication or delay in her plans. “What if I picked you up and the veggies, too? My kitchen’s up and running and fully stocked, but totally virgin.” He’d been speaking fast like he expected a no. “I’d be honored if you’d share the first meal with me. You’d be my first real guest.”

  That was unexpected, and somehow hot, him inviting her for a first. And it meant she didn’t have to dash home and clean. She was tidy enough, and her parents weren’t picky at all. But this was a real first date.

  “Okay then. I, um. Yes! Five-ish?” Her tongue tied itself into a hundred knots. Five-ish would give time for wine first. Her place was shipshape enough for that. What to wear? Not jeans, she wasn’t up to learning to ride just yet, so no need to seem like it. One new skill at a time. Ratatouille and heart-shaped carrots would be plenty.

  But Laraine’s Boutique was right next to the house wares shop and sold casually elegant outfits suitable for a date and then the classroom and weren’t stupidly expensive…

  “I can’t wait. See you then. Text me your address.”

  “Okay. It’s just off the highway at Brookstone…”

  “You at the rescue?”

  “Oh yeah. The horses like to eat on a regular basis, and what goes in, must come out.” Oops. Maybe mentioning equines would elicit another invitation to ride, but Landry held off. For that same reason, though, she feared even inquiring about Big Jake or even mentioning McClintock because she figured if you got one, you got the other one. “I better get back to work. The horses do not tell time, and as soon as they see me, they want grub.”

  “Well, I hope you satisfy their hunger.” Landry’s words, coupled with the heat of his tone got her toes boiling inside her boots.

  ****

  At five p.m. Landry parked his truck along the country road of a rural estate that had seen better times. But he liked the look a lot better than the manicured neighborhoods in upscale Los Angeles enclaves. Oak tree branches held out friendly arms, a squirrel scavenged for its dinner under a native Coulter pine. Amy would love that. But nerves like Landry hadn’t had since junior high scaled the mountain range of his backbone.

  Nope. Not anything about frat initiation had so riled him. He hadn’t been this jumpy even waiting for the Francie fake-date with an entire TV crew.

  Warm evening air rustled through his hair as he walked along a slightly overgrown flagstone path to the guest house. Why was he nervous? He and Kelsey had already survived the coffee-date. Even though something so casual and last minute didn’t really constitute a date in anybody’s playbook.

  He knocked, fingers trembling. Maybe it was showing off his home to someone he could see therein by his side.

  Stupid boy, he scolded himself. They’d just met two days ago.

  “Hi Landry.”

  The door opened and his breath hitched. Fluttery pink blouse, flowery flowing skirt and ballerina flats suitable for a walk around Winsome Hill. He nodded. “Nice.”

  Kelsey blushed, smiled. “Come on in. A glass of wine maybe?” She motioned to a bottle of California red breathing on an old-style Formica counter next to cloth bags of vegetables.

  “Sure.”

  She poured. “Let me show you around. It isn’t much, but if you know generic apartment housing, you’ll appreciate why I adore it.”

  Simple Craftsman house that matched the bigger place fifty feet away. A piece or two of Stickley he wondered if she owned.

  “The Mission style stuff came with the place.” She read his mind. “But most of the furniture is mine. I kinda wanted to feel at home right away.” Her pretty face frowned. “I changed the curtains, though. So musty and sun-worn.”

  Long creamy sheers brushed the dark hardwood floor and softened the brown moldings, complemented her comfy blue-gray couch strewn with blood-red pillows. Bathroom and kitchen tiled in original rosy pink and magenta. It was all old-school, and it all fit. She didn’t show off the bedroom, and he kinda liked the ladylike reserve.

  “I like it.” He sipped wine, meaning he liked everything he saw and tasted. Most of all, her. He was thrilled she’d agreed to let him come get her. Like a real date. He’d been raised a gentleman, and he didn’t want to disappoint.

  And Winsome Hill sure wouldn’t disappoint. But soon she’d be right there next to him in his brand new kitchen. Observing his culinary skills which, though considerable, no doubt promised to be shaky, what with a razor-sharp mandolin in hand and her eyeshot on his every move. Maybe they ought to stay…

  “We can stay here if you’d like,” he said, but hoped she wouldn’t agree. It was almost sunset and Winsome Hill had one heck of a view.

  “Not a chance. I want to go to this bachelor pad of yours. Amy said it’s got to be seen to be believed.”

  “The view, maybe. I tried to keep things simple.” He packed her bags behind his seat in the crew cab, then helped her in the truck. The drive took maybe ten minutes. “How’d the service day go with Maggie’s class?” he asked finally. The silence was gentle, comfortable, but he did want to know.

  “Well, Maggie excused me since she had plenty of parent chaperones. I…did some shopping downtown.”

  “Glad for that. You look stunning.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Thanks kindly, but mostly I found heart-shaped cookie cutters at the kitchen shop. Maggie convinced me to try something simple. She figures we can cut lettuce and squash into heart-shapes. I agree.”

  “Darn, I wanted to see if my theory would work.” Disappointment drizzled through him as he braked at Knotting Hill Road. If dating her didn’t work out, at least he had the gardening project to look forward to. He’d even stopped in at that selfsame kitchen shop this afternoon.

  “I’m not saying no to the carrots.” Her perfume drifted up his nose. Its flower scent seemed to match her outfit. “I’ll look for molds on the internet. Kitchen Contraptions doesn’t carry them.”r />
  Landry had found that out but only grinned.

  She went on. “I’m kind of looking forward to attempting them. For next year. But we’re talking little kids whose attention span is right now.”

  “I gotcha.” Relief simmered across his back. He’d help her look for the molds, too.

  They drove past Milk and Honey, sleepy now, and headed north up the skinny asphalt road to Winsome Hill.

  “Gosh, it’s beautiful up here. Even with the drought, we’ve had enough to rain to green things up.” Around them, citrus orchards already started their bloom in the warm late winter. Off into the distance, the hills tufted with clumps of oak trees that looked like dark green sheep.

  Landry nodded. “I know. It’s been a long time since Milk and Honey has been so pretty.”

  “You’ve lived with Amy then, while the house got built?”

  “Yep. I came back a few months ago. Even though I never really left, you know? I had an apartment in Denver where the clothing line is headquartered. I needed a home base. I was a…model.”

  “So you said. A model.” She shook her head, smiling. “I love it.

  He flushed. “But I spent a lot of time in places where men wear jeans. Like NASCAR and Ayers Rock in the Outback, Bryce Canyon. Jackson Hole. And in places where they don’t, after the company went global. Like um, Red Square. Petra, Turkey. A monastery in the south of France. Even wore a pair while swimming with dolphins in a sea park.”

  Kelsey laughed. “Wow. You saw so much of the world.”

  “Yeah, for a while. Not so much these days, though, with digitalization and photoshopping.”

  They parked underneath a white alder tree. “Look.” Landry heard the reverence in his voice. “I was hoping…after last night’s sunset was so spectacular, we’d get the ‘pink moment’ again.” He grabbed the grocery bags and led her up the redwood steps to his deck.

  He leaned into the deck rail, and Kelsey leaned into him. His heart thrummed. “I always thought it was some hog-wash urban legend,” she said. “Until I saw it the first time. You know.”

  She tensed a bit, and he understood perfectly. Gunnar had showed it to her once upon a bad time.