An August Bride

by Debra Clopton

  Sliding into the seat, she was relieved when he stepped out of her way, allowing her to pull her door closed.

  She had to get out of there.

  She did not belong here.

  Why, then, did she feel so rotten? It wasn’t until she was far down the road toward Corpus that she realized she’d forgotten all about looking at the pavilion and talking about catering.

  The fact that she was failing her staff—whom she loved—made her heart ache. But she would just have to figure something else out. She had to. Because she couldn’t work with Brent.

  She knew that now. Understood that she had to keep as far away from him as possible.

  He was a blamed fool. Brent jabbed the posthole digger into the hard earth and rocked it back and forth and hauled out the last of the dirt. Tossing the two-headed shovel to the side, he stared into the scalding August sun and berated himself one more time. He’d been doing it ever since watching Kelsey’s taillights disappear over the hill yesterday.

  The scene played again and again through his mind relentlessly. He’d blown it.

  Moving to the tailgate of his truck, he hefted the new gate post to his shoulder and carried it to the hole, letting it drop into place with a dull thud.

  He wiped his shirtsleeve across his forehead and closed his eyes for a moment. Kelsey had been right. He’d plowed right through everything she wanted and pushed for what he wanted.

  Now what?

  He wanted to go after her and try to make sense of everything. But he couldn’t make sense of it himself. And he couldn’t do what she asked—which was to leave her alone. He wanted Kelsey.

  Pure and simple, he wanted her in his life. He’d never met a woman who captured his every thought and dug into his heart like Kelsey did. He knew they could have something special . . . something lasting. Forever, if she’d give them a chance.

  But he lived on a ranch and she didn’t want to.

  So what was he supposed to do about that?

  He kicked the dirt back into the hole with the side of his boot. When it was done, he hung his head and prayed.

  He didn’t have the answers. He couldn’t very well throw her over his shoulder and make her marry him just because that was what he wanted. They’d known each other three days. She’d think he was crazy.

  Time and space. That was what she needed. She needed time.

  And he would give it to her. If it took every ounce of willpower he had, he’d give it to her.

  Kelsey! You have found your calling,” Lillian Sebastian raved as she swept through the bistro door two weeks after Kelsey had run from Brent’s ranch. A dull and stagnant cloud had been hanging over her ever since. Lillian’s excited declaration was just what she needed to put a little oomph in her otherwise oomph-less day.

  “I take it your family enjoyed the platters we fixed up for you?” she asked, forcing herself to sound excited. That was what she needed to do. Fake it till it happened. Lillian was the wife of a well-respected lawyer in town and they all attended the same church. They’d ordered several large platters of specialty Danish and pastries along with sandwiches and soups for a family party. Kelsey had decided to go ahead with the Sunflower Bistro catering program and it was starting to pick up.

  “Are you kidding?” she asked in her thick Texas drawl. “They fought over the last Danish—I kid you not—practically licked the bowls of that to-die-for potato soup, and there were not even crumbs left of those Monte Cristo sandwiches. Seriously, Kelsey, I’ve never tasted food like yours. Your twist on recipes is unique. Simply amazing. You should speak to my husband, Bill, about the process of franchising this place. Tell her, Julie,” she called to Julie in the kitchen. “You’ve told me that Kelsey taught you everything you know. And you are doing an excellent job.”

  Kelsey stared at Lillian in astonishment. Bedecked in a pristine white suit, Texas-sized jewels, a mixture of lamb chop—sized turquoise and diamonds the size of a pecan pie, Lillian and her praise were overwhelming, to say the least.

  Julie stuck her head through the kitchen pass-through. “Absolutely, you are doing a great job, Kelsey,” she agreed. “I could barely butter toast when we met at the shelter. Mrs. Sebastian, you probably don’t know that Kelsey gave me this job when I was helpless and homeless.”

  From where she was clearing a table in the corner, Candy cocked a skinny hip and grinned. “I think it’s a great idea too. I was in the same situation and Kelsey helped me too. Think of how many others you can help if you have more restaurants.”

  “See there,” Lillian continued. “I doubt you’d have any problem getting investors if you needed capital. I’d back you in a heartbeat. As would some of your other clients.”

  Franchise. Kelsey rolled the idea over in her mind. “I’ve never really thought about franchising the Sunflower. I’m not sure it’s something that interests me.” Right now nothing did, but what Candy had just pointed out about helping more people appealed to her very much. She had to pull herself out of this funk hanging over her. Still, it was a large commitment. “I enjoy working hands on and the freedom I have just the way it is.”

  The classy blonde smiled. “Well, young lady, you’ve got a gold mine here if you are aggressive and make a plan. Bill is an expert. I’d urge you to consider this. You’ve got a future to think about. And you’re so young and single—no husband or kids. You have nothing to hold you back. Think about it. I’ll tell Bill you might be calling. Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you that my niece’s wedding plans have changed. There was a fire and the venue burned to the ground over the weekend. So, as you can imagine, we are frantic to find a place. We have a few on our list, but they’re mostly places we’d already decided against before, so none of them seem promising. If you hear of something you think might be perfect, could you let us know? Got to rush. Call Bill.”

  “Sure,” Kelsey said, her mind churning. She’d agreed to cater Lillian’s niece’s wedding reception, though at the time she’d almost turned the opportunity down. Thankfully, Lillian was very good at getting what she wanted out of people, which had helped Kelsey see the light and was what had gotten her to think about more catering opportunities. Still, feeling a little like she’d just been rolled over by a very classy steamroller, Kelsey watched Lillian leave. No husband or kids—right now not having them did not feel like an advantage. Not when her mind was so full of Brent and the idea that if she just gave in she could very well have a future with him.

  Was it real, though? And was it the future she wanted?

  Candy stared at her. “I can tell you aren’t feeling it. Though you haven’t been feeling much of anything since that weekend you went to your hunky cowboy’s ranch.”

  “He is not my hunky cowboy,” Kelsey snapped. “Honestly, Candy, I barely know the man.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Candy threw up her hands. “Hey, I’m just making an observation. Lillian’s right, you know. You’ve got the goods going on here with all the wonderful food and desserts. However, if you’re not feeling it, then you need to do what your heart tells you.”

  Her heart? Ha! She’d leave that out of it for now. The fickle, thumping lump was causing her all kinds of problems.

  Scowling, she went back to the kitchen where she’d been finishing up a large batch of vegetable soup to go with the sandwiches that she and Julie had made earlier.

  “It’s true, Kelsey,” Julie said from where she was working on an order for a group out on the deck. “You are an amazing baker and cook. And you have the best heart. I’m amazed every time I turn a lump of dough into something people will eat. And it’s because of your generosity.”

  “Ditto!” Candy agreed, following Kelsey into the kitchen and setting two dirty plates in the sink. “Y’all are making me want to learn to cook.” She grinned. “Not really. I’m good right where I am. Kelsey, I’ve got a little apartment all to myself and a cat I can feed, and it’s all because you brought that amazing soup to the shelter and gave a gal like me a shot. You deserv
e the best. Lillian isn’t telling us anything we didn’t already know.”

  “Y’all, stop.” Kelsey stirred the soup. “I love you gals. Y’all deserve credit. You’re the ones who did all the work. You showed up every day and made it happen.”

  Candy gave her a yeah-right look. “Whatever. You know what you did and we know what you did, giving us a shot. You’re doing the same for Roxie now, giving her a hand up. This little bistro is a powerful place because of your heart. Only, the way I see it right now, you haven’t been yourself lately. And I got a feeling it has to do with that delicious hero who pulled you out of the ocean.”

  Kelsey stared at Candy in dismay.

  “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m just stating the facts.”

  Julie gave her a tiny smile. “That’s right. This place is fantastic without a franchise. I have to agree with Candy, though. You haven’t been yourself. It’s easy to tell something is wrong. Do you need to talk?”

  Tears filled Kelsey’s eyes. These two were so important to her. They’d come through far more than she’d had to and they inspired her.

  “Group hug,” she said, walking over to Julie and waving Candy over to join the hug.

  “I can’t talk about it,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But thank y’all for caring.” She released them, sniffed, and went back to her soup. “Y’all just gave me exactly what I needed—a reminder of why I love this bistro and the life I’ve made for myself here. It is a blessing to me and has been from the day I saw my dreams inside those empty windows.”

  It was true. And as she took a deep breath, she felt so much better. “Okay, back to work.” She laughed. “It’s going to be a great day. And I have to get this soup over to the shelter by four.”

  She tasted the soup, the flavor as good as its tantalizing aroma. She loved soup—comfort food number one. She added a couple of dashes of salt, then stirred. For the first time in days she felt some semblance of calm. This was where she belonged.

  But you miss him.

  It was so true. How that could be, after only knowing him for such a short time, was unbelievable.

  Especially when she didn’t want to.

  Everything she’d told him that afternoon had been true. She wasn’t interested in cowboys or ranching. And yet she kept thinking about how much she’d enjoyed being on the ranch, seeing the foals, and riding Ransom, racing Brent.

  In her heart of hearts, she knew he wasn’t like Lance. She knew that she’d judged cowboys unfairly and that it was what was in a man’s, any man’s, heart that counted. Then again, it had been two weeks and she hadn’t heard from him or seen him the entire time.

  If he’d really cared, would he have given up so easily?

  Okay, this is ridiculous.

  She glanced at the clock. It was time to load up the food. She grabbed the large cake box full of assorted sandwiches on fragrant bread, then headed out the back door.

  “You need help?” Julie asked.

  “Nope, I’ve got it.” The afternoon warmed her with its startling beauty. The clouds gleamed so white against the baby blue sky that she looked up to admire them—and missed the step down.

  “Gotcha,” a familiar voice said, and Brent stepped into her path. Grabbing her around the waist, he plucked her out of the air and steadied the box with the other. Somehow both she and her sandwiches made it through as he set her upright.

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” he drawled, looking at her from beneath his Stetson, that devastating smile quirking into a lopsided grin.

  Kelsey stared at him. He was here. After all the torture she’d put herself through for two weeks and then the little heart to heart she’d just had with herself, she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be happy or mad that he had finally showed up.

  Mad. Definitely mad. And elated.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her heart making such a racket she could barely hear herself asking stupid questions.

  “Saving you—again,” he teased.

  He looked better than . . . well, better than everything. “Right.” She couldn’t keep herself from smiling. She took the box from his hands and placed it in the rear of her car.

  “Where you going?” he asked.

  “On a delivery.” She scooted past him and headed back into the bistro, her stomach tied up in knots.

  “Well, hello, cowboy,” Julie crooned. “You must be the handsome hunk who rescued our Kelsey from the bay. Candy wasn’t lying.”

  Kelsey glared at her friend.

  “Hi, I’m Brent.”

  “And I’m Julie,” she answered as she shot a grin at Kelsey. “So, now I know where your mind has been for the past couple of weeks, boss.”

  Brent looked pleased with himself. “Oh really?”

  Kelsey’s mouth dropped open and she slammed it shut again. Spinning, she reached for the soup.

  “Whoa, I’ll do that,” Brent said, moving in beside her, his hands grabbing the handles. With reluctance, she forced herself to let him have the pot. “Where do you want this?”

  She knew when she was beat, and on this she was. “In the trunk beside the sandwiches.”

  She trailed him as he led the way to the door. His muscles flexed as he placed the heavy pot in her trunk and her mouth went dry, remembering how they felt around her. He looked up and caught her looking. Drat.

  He quirked a brow. “You were going to carry that pot? All by yourself?”

  Relieved that this was his question instead of one about her ogling his muscles, she relaxed. “Not exactly. I was going to try. I’m realizing that I could never have done it alone. I made more soup than usual this time. Thanks for taking over for me.”

  He smiled, charm oozing from him. “You’re welcome. I was wondering how you could carry that heavy pot. My muscles were groaning. That had me thinking I was getting soft.”

  “Hardly.” The word was out before she could stop it.

  He chuckled that husky chuckle that she liked. Loved.

  “Training horses and wrestling cattle do that.”

  “Better than a gym any day.” She surprised herself with her sudden laugh. He winked and her insides tightened. She stepped back. “I, um, I need to go. This is supposed to be there in fifteen minutes,” she said, pausing to check her watch. Time had sped by.

  “Can a cowboy catch a ride?”

  He wanted to go with her. “Sure, I guess. It may take awhile. I never know.”

  “I’ve got all evening.”

  “Why did you come by?” she asked, shutting the trunk.

  “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He stared at her over the hood of her car. “Is that okay?”

  Her mouth went dry. She nodded. “Sure,” she said, then got in the car and fumbled with her seat belt as he got in beside her and buckled up. He’d come to see how she was doing. She had to hold back a smile as she pulled out of the drive and headed down the road.

  All the air had been sucked out of her small car—she was going to suffocate. She glanced at Brent. He seemed to be breathing fine.

  He turned those deep expressive eyes on her and her heart jumped in her chest like a sailfish on a hook. Oh dear.

  “So, where are we going?”

  She’d just told him two weeks ago that they weren’t going anywhere.

  “Is it a catering job?”

  “Oh! The soup. No, not a catering job. We’re taking this over to the shelter for displaced families. A few other restaurants in the area supply the evening meals. I only serve fresh food at my bistro and advertise it that way.” Okay, so now she was rambling. Of course she sold fresh food at her restaurant.

  He turned and studied her. She kept her eyes on the road. “So, instead of wasting the leftover food, you put it to good use.”

  “Yes, that’s what I meant. Though it’s not technically leftovers. I plan for the meals, coordinating my menus so that I can combine what I don’t end up using into a hearty soup and sandwiches the same day, li
ke this one. This is one of the favorite parts about being my own boss.”

  She pulled into the parking lot of the church-supported shelter. Together they carried in the food and set it among the other food that had been delivered by other restaurants. Although there were plenty of volunteers, she and Brent stuck around and helped serve.

  It was all she could do to keep her mind on what she was doing over the next two hours. She’d been so distracted watching Brent make himself useful. He’d stepped right in and helped serve food. Then he’d grabbed a tea pitcher and a coffee pot and began walking through the dining area offering refills. That he would be willing to serve like that touched her. She wondered about his ranch duties. Her dad would have never taken time to do something like this. She didn’t understand Brent in many ways. But, unlike her father and all of his nonstop work, Brent seemed successful at his ranch despite taking time to enjoy his life.

  When they finished and Brent had taken out the trash, which he’d insisted on doing, Kelsey drove them back to the parking lot behind the bistro. Julie had closed it up for the evening, so Kelsey left the washed pot in her trunk. Brent’s truck was parked several spaces down the less-packed parking lot now.

  “Thanks for helping me,” she said, confused by the emotions she was feeling. He’d jumped right in there and joined in like he’d been ladling soup all his life. He’d been kind and concerned and helpful. Brent Corbin was one of the good guys.

  He was a great guy.

  He was still a cowboy.

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it. You’re doing a good thing, Kelsey. See you later.”

  That said, Brent strode toward his truck. Kelsey watched him go, feeling sad and a little shocked that he was leaving so abruptly. He’d never said why he’d come by. She had the sudden urge to call out to him and ask him if he wanted to grab a bite to eat somewhere . . . or take a walk on the beach. She caught herself just in time and instead watched him climb into his double-cab black truck. He backed out of the space, tipped his hat at her, then drove off into the sunset.