by Liz Isaacson
“Well, I have five thousand dollars.”
He sank onto the couch. “That does change things.” He took out a stubby pencil and a notebook the size of his palm and started writing. He muttered to himself, glanced up at the ceiling a few times, and then ripped off the page.
“For five thousand dollars, I can do it all except the roof.”
“What can you do with the water heater and the roof?” It wasn’t her cottage. The Shepherd’s could pony up more money to fix the roof. She’d lived in Texas her whole life, and she knew it hardly ever rained in the summer.
“The water heater, the roof, and that curtain rod.”
“Everything but the roof then.” Navy extended her hand for him to shake, and he got to his feet.
He studied her fingers for a moment and then put his in hers. A zing shot up her arm and down her ribs, and a spontaneous smile spread her lips.
“Deal,” he said, pumping her hand.
“When do I pay you?”
“When the job’s done.”
“How long will that be?”
“Three weeks.”
“Do I need to be home?”
“Why? You have big plans for while you’re here in Bride?”
“Yes,” she shot back. “I’m planning to read a book a day, soak in the sun, and maybe do a little touring around Hill Country.”
Gavin laughed, the sound fun and filling the cottage in only a moment. Navy tried not to bask in the tonalities of his voice, let them infect her, but it was entirely impossible. Gavin Redd possessed some serious Southern charm, and she had no defense against it.
“We really should go to karaoke night,” she said when he’d quieted.
“I believe you promised me dinner.” He inched closer to her.
“Oh!” She spun, her ponytail whipping around with her. “The sliders.” She hurried to the oven where she’d put them to keep them warm and opened it.
Smoke came out, and she groaned. She slammed the oven closed and flipped it off before turning and pressing into the appliance. “Let’s go to The Stable. I’ll buy another order.”
He chin-nodded to the stove behind her. “What are you going to do about that?”
“Have my handyman clean it up.” She grinned and added a bounce to her step as she went to grab her purse from the dresser in her bedroom. Gavin didn’t move. “Shall we?”
His gaze had turned into a glare again, but it softened after only a few seconds. “Fine. But no karaoke.”
She giggled and resisted the urge to slip her hand into the crook of his elbow. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m a lot of fun.” He followed her out the front door. “Want me to drive?”
“Sure.”
She waited until she was settled on the passenger side of his truck before saying, “If you’re so fun, why can’t we do karaoke?”
“I don’t sing.”
“Well, I do.”
“I’ll drop you off then.”
“No,” she said quickly. Her heart raced. “What else is there to do for fun around here?”
“You mean besides visiting the matchmaker and then sniffing out a prospective groom?”
Navy’s annoyance shot into the atmosphere. “Oh, come on. Why are you so negative about how your town was founded?”
“It’s a strange thing to believe in.”
“It’s something.” Navy crossed her arms as if trying to hold herself together. “Sometimes people just need something.” She hadn’t meant to sound so wistful, so vulnerable. She normally didn’t show that side of herself until much later in a relationship. Only her closest friends got to know about her fears, her disappointments, her dreams.
“I get that,” Gavin said, and Navy glanced at him.
“So what’s your story?” she asked.
“My story?”
“Yeah, why are you here? How long are you going to be here?” She twisted toward him a little more. “Ever danced around the Ellora Shepherd statue in the dead of night when no one would see you?”
He scoffed; his fingers tightened on the steering wheel; he accelerated.
Navy sensed a really juicy story. She leaned forward because she didn’t want to miss a single word.
6
Gavin couldn’t ignore the chemistry between him and Navy. He wanted to, if only to protect himself. For all he knew, Grandmother had matched them and he simply didn’t know it yet. Good thing was, Navy didn’t either. That, or she showed an incredible amount of restraint.
Grandmother didn’t normally match women with a specific man anyway. No, Navy had probably gotten some advice about where to hang out to meet her match. Or what cologne to watch for. Or even something like a star sign or a birthstone.
“I was born in Dallas,” he started. “My aunt still lives there, but my parents are in West Virginia now.”
“Siblings?”
“No.”
“Intriguing.”
He wasn’t sure why being an only child mattered at all—unless it was something Grandmother had told her to watch for. He suddenly didn’t want to share anything with her.
“And now I live here to help my grandparents. They’re getting older.” He nonchalantly waved one hand and pulled it off pretty well. “I mow the yard and fix up things around the house. That kind of stuff.”
A hundred yards passed under the truck’s tires before she said, “That’s it?”
“I’m pretty boring.”
“You are not,” she said. “There’s more, and you’re just not telling me.”
Gavin’s teeth worked against themselves. “What did my grandmother tell you?”
“I—well—”
“See, I’ve been approached by her clients before, and well, I’m not interested in that. To be blunt.”
Navy sputtered for a moment. “That was blunt.”
“And I’ve dated a few blondes too,” he said. “Didn’t end well for me. I’m thinking I need a brunette. No offense.”
“No offense?” Navy sounded incredulous. “Well, then, none taken.” But she clenched those arms tighter around her body and stared out her window.
Minutes passed while he navigated through weekend traffic downtown and finally found a parking space way down by the Bark Park. He cast a look at the dogs running in the fading light and realized it had been too long since he’d brought Blue to his favorite patch of earth: Bride’s Bark Park.
He would tomorrow, after church. He cast Navy a glance as she joined him near the front of the truck. “Do you have dogs?”
“Three,” he said. “Well, really only one. The other two are my grandparents’, but they’ve sort of adopted me as their dad.”
“I had a cat in Amarillo.”
He detected the note of sadness in her voice. “What happened to her?”
“I had to give her to my aunt so I could come here. But my aunt loves cats, and she really wanted me to come, so it’s okay.” She tucked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “She was matched here, you know. Fifty years ago.”
“Grandmother did it then,” Gavin said. “She just celebrated her fifty-second anniversary as Bride’s matchmaker.”
“I know. My aunt told me all about her.”
Gavin wasn’t sure where this conversation was going and if he’d like it. He glanced way down the block to where the karaoke bar sat, and he turned away from it. Anything was better than that. He didn’t want to tell Navy that he actually sang just fine. He just didn’t do it in public after the Debbie Debacle.
He stepped toward The Stable instead. “Did your aunt find her match?”
“Yep. She and Uncle Marvin have been married for forty-nine years.”
He froze, his heart rat-a-tatting in his chest. “Uncle Marvin?”
Forty-nine years screamed through his mind.
“Not only that, but Aunt Izzie found Uncle Marvin the very next day after your grandmother’s matchmaking reading. The very next day!” Navy sounded absolutely delighted and hadn’t see
med to notice that Gavin’s muscles had seized.
Navy was the niece Izzie was always mentioning. His “Aunt Izzie” and “Uncle Marvin” were her blood relatives?
What were the chances of that?
Gavin didn’t know, but the scientist in him told him that it was probably a really minuscule percentage. The romantic side of him whispered that maybe he and Navy were meant to be. The realist wanted more time to explore, to hold the woman’s hand, to maybe see if a beautiful blonde woman wouldn’t chew him up and spit him out.
“Marvin worked at Sterling Ranch,” Gavin said, his voice tinny. “When it was still a working ranch. They live in Amarillo now.”
Navy froze too. “How do you know that?” Her lovely eyes widened and searched his.
“I stay with them every year when I go do the auction in Amarillo.” He took at step, but Navy didn’t. “Just talked to Aunt Izzie today.”
Navy caught up to him. “But she’s not your aunt.”
“No, but I call her that. She’s my grandmother’s best friend.”
“She is my aunt.” Navy’s voice sounded strangled, alien. “She’s the reason I came to Bride.”
Gavin couldn’t believe that, if only because it made things a lot more complicated than they needed to be. He didn’t believe in magic, or legends, or myths. He barely believed in coincidences. He shook his head. “You came to Bride because you work a demanding job and needed a break.”
“I came to see your grandmother.”
Gavin’s jaw hardened. He really wished Navy would’ve come for another reason. Any other reason. “Whatever,” he said, pulling open the door to The Stable. “Let’s take our food over to the park. You want to?” He didn’t want to eat under the scrutiny of the townspeople for a second night in a row. Thankfully, Navy agreed, and twenty minutes later, they found a bench under a tree and Gavin finally got to eat his buffalo sliders.
Gavin’s mind didn’t stop turning until he slid onto the bench beside Grandmother the following morning. The sunlight streamed through the stained glass window in front of him, and he closed his eyes against the blue and purple light that bathed this section of the chapel.
And just like that, his mind started up again. He’d barely slept. Barely been able to brew a pot of edible coffee. Barely been able to do more than the involuntary bodily functions.
All because of Navy.
She was like a parasite, taking his systems down fast.
He’d wanted to call Aunt Izzie again and ask about her niece. He dismissed that as too obvious, and besides, he enjoyed the weeks and months it took to get to know a woman. At the same time, his brain urged him to go a little faster this time, because Navy wasn’t going to be in town for very long.
Then he’d think, Six months is a long time. She’s been here for three days, and you’ve seen her each of those.
“Can I sit with you?”
He glanced up to see none other than the very woman who’d been plaguing him. Navy batted her dark eyelashes and put that gorgeous smile on her face. Did she know she could charm armies with that smile?
Something told Gavin that no, she didn’t. She probably knew she was pretty, but she had no idea the havoc she was wreaking on his pulse, his stomach, his muscles, his brain, his very life.
“Scoot down, Gavin,” Grandmother said, probably not for the first time judging by the slightly acidic bite in her tone.
Gavin scooted. Gavin started straight ahead. Gavin wanted to bolt, because church was his escape. It was where he came to reset himself for the week. To renew his faith. To reevaluate what he should be doing with his life.
“Glad I made it on time,” Navy said a bit breathlessly. “I couldn’t find anyone who knew for sure if the time was ten or eleven.”
“Pastor Adams changed it to eleven a year ago,” Gavin said woodenly. “Gets more people here if it’s a bit later.” He personally didn’t understand that, but he also rose at the crack of dawn. The dogs needed to be taken out, lawns needed to be mowed before the heat of the day, nails needed to be hammered before housewives grew cranky.
“Now I know.”
The presence of Navy next to him was anything but soothing. She smelled like flowers and soap and something more sensual that Gavin couldn’t name. She wore her nails short and her hair in loose curls around her face and a dress the color of plum skins. With a broad white stripe near the hem, which just reached to her knees.
She was the picture of beauty, and Gavin wanted to slip his hand into hers. He’d touched her before—the bathroom episode played through his mind during the opening hymn. He couldn’t concentrate on anything the preacher said. He thought that if he could just hold Navy’s hand, everything inside him would finally settle.
So he reached over and folded his hand over hers. His fingers slipped between her thumb and fingers, and he simply rested his hand on top of hers.
She startled a little and turned her face to his. All his bravery had been used on getting his hand across the six inches between them, so he couldn’t look at her.
Pastor Adams’s words became audible. With every moment that she didn’t pull her hand away, Gavin’s pulse steadied. After about thirty seconds of the awkward hand position, she turned her hand and their fingers found their way between each other. Naturally. Easily. Like her fingers belonged in the empty spaces between his.
A smile crossed his face against his will. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to hide, and he slid his eyes toward her without moving his head.
She was smiling too.
7
Navy didn’t hear a word the pastor said after Gavin claimed her hand. Oh, no. She spent the next hour obsessing over her choice to accept his fingers into hers.
When they stood to sing the closing hymn, she clasped her hands in front of her and mouthed the words. Gavin next to her belted out the lyrics in a rich baritone that gave away his singing ability.
“You do too sing,” she hissed as they sat down for the closing prayer.
“I can,” he whispered back. “Obviously. But I don’t sing.”
“You mean in public.”
“Shh.”
She bristled. He’d just shushed her. Shushed her! Sure, okay, an elderly woman had just started the prayer, but really?
She leapt to her feet before the final “Amen,” finished and made it to the back of the chapel before most patrons had even stood. She escaped the church with its quaint red brick and charming stained glass window. She’d had no idea if Gavin attended this church or not, but she couldn’t say she was disappointed. Seeing his charcoal-colored cowboy hat had actually made her heart thump in anticipation.
And then he’d held her hand. She wandered over to a large bur oak and leaned against the trunk. At least you know the feelings between you go both ways, she thought. He’d been a mystery for those first few days, and she smiled. She liked mysterious men.
In Amarillo, she told herself firmly. You like mysterious men who live in Amarillo.
She twirled the banded silver ring on her thumb. Around and around it went, in time with her spiraling thoughts.
You’re a nurse. You can work anywhere.
But I live in Amarillo. My family is there.
You left for six months.
But I like my job in Amarillo.
Around and around, until Gavin said, “Hey, there.”
She turned toward him, her panic doubling when she felt something crawling on her arm. She yelped and brushed at the huge black bug.
Gavin stood as still as a statue, his face unchanging.
“What was that?” She examined the ground for the horrible insect.
“You don’t have bugs in Amarillo?”
“Of course we do.”
“Maybe you should dance around the statue, praying to rid the South of nasty animals.”
She cocked her head, trying to read his mind. Of course she couldn’t, but she did deduce that he really liked teasing her.
“Earth would be improved
without snakes,” she said, playing along with him. “I don’t know what the Good Lord was thinking by putting them here with us.”
Gavin’s tough guy façade broke, and he grinned at her. “Navy.” He ducked his head, and she found his shyness adorable. When he looked at her again, redness resided in his cheeks, and she liked that too.
“Do you want to come to the bark park with me and my dogs?”
“When?”
“Right now. I mean, this afternoon.” He shrugged, exhaled, and glanced away. “I’m forty years old. You think I’d be better at this.”
You’re more suited to a mature man.
Nancy-the-Matchmaker’s words appeared in her mind. “You’re forty?” she asked.
He stroked his beard. “My gray hair didn’t give it away?”
She shook her head as a thrill the size of a yacht went through her. “My dad went gray when he was about thirty.”
“Hmm.” Gavin extended his hand toward her and said, “Want me to drive?”
“I don’t actually own a car,” she said. “Well, I do. But I left it in Amarillo.”
“Let me guess. You took the bus down here.”
“It’s part of the legend.”
“I’m aware.”
Navy let her feelings radiate with a bit of hurt for a few steps. “You do realize I’m not whoever broke your heart, right?”
His cowboy boots stuttered against the concrete. “I never said—”
“You didn’t need to.” Navy gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sure, I’m blonde, and yes, I rode into town on a bus. Maybe I even hummed my way around the statue. Doesn’t mean I’m going to hurt you.”
“Women like you have.”
“You barely know me.” She started to withdraw her hand from his, but he gripped the ends of her fingers.
“I know,” he said. “I’m…sorry.”
That was all. Nothing more. No excuses. No further explanations either. Just an apology. While Navy would’ve appreciated another installment of his obviously bumpy past, she appreciated the simplicity of how he communicated.
“So there are three dogs,” he said as he opened the passenger door for her. “Blue is a yellow Lab.”
