by Liz Isaacson
“We’re next. So you want brisket and ribs?” Dwayne asked, bringing her back to this moment in time.
Felicity nodded as she took a deep breath. “And cole slaw, and baked beans, and some of that potato salad.” She beamed up at Dwayne, who chuckled and shook his head. He probably felt like he was on a roller coaster too, and Felicity’s self-consciousness kicked in.
She appreciated that Dwayne had shared his past with her, and she wanted to do the same. “So,” she said, and he looked at her. “My father had a stroke and fell. He didn’t wake up from his coma and lost all brain activity.” She hugged herself as if cold, though the sun was near its pinnacle. “He was brain dead, and we took him off life support.”
Felicity glanced behind her to find the man who’d started all of this wearing a horrified look.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t—”
“It’s okay,” she said at the same time Dwayne’s fingers closed over hers. “How could you know?”
“Next,” the cashier called, and Dwayne tugged her to the order window. He listed all the things they wanted, and then turned to the man behind him. “We’ll get yours too.” He stepped to the side to make room. “Tell ‘im what you want.”
“No.” The man shook his head. “I’ll get theirs.” He moved into position and put in his order, paid, and moved out of line. “My name’s Collin. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Felicity said as she took a plate laden with brisket and baked beans from a server. “From the looks of this, I’d yell at the people in front of me to get going too.”
The scent of the tomato-based sauce, the tang of the vinegar, and the heat through the paper plate set her mouth watering.
“You’ve never been to Honey’s?” Collin asked.
“This would be the first time.” Felicity watched Dwayne collect forks and napkins. “My…friend said it’s the best barbeque in Hill Country.”
Collin collected his order too. “Well, he’s right.” He tipped his cowboy hat and moved away, clearly not wanting to join them for lunch.
“There’s shade over there.” Dwayne nodded with the brim of his hat to her left. She went in that direction, everything inside her settling down. Dwayne hadn’t had time to react to how her father had passed, and Felicity didn’t think the conversation was over. But at least she’d trusted him enough to tell him.
She’d never done that before.
And she’d never had such juicy and delicious brisket either. She moaned on the first bite, not even caring if she had sauce all over her face.
Dwayne sat across from her on the end of the picnic table and stared at her for an extra beat, his blue eyes darkening with desire before he chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”
“We should come here every weekend,” she said, reaching for a napkin.
“I’ll cater it for our next ranch event,” he said. “Maybe my parents would like to have a Fourth of July picnic at Grape Seed.” He seemed serious, and Felicity just smiled.
“I’m real sorry about your dad,” he said, leaning forward. “Making a decision like that….” He shook his head and hadn’t taken a single bite of his food yet. “My mom—” He cleared his throat. “My mom said for a few hours while I was in the coma, one of the doctors thought my brain activity had ceased. She said she couldn’t even imagine taking me off life support.”
Felicity didn’t know what to say. Her heart bounced around in her chest, beating irregularly as if it had forgotten how to do its basic function. She forked a bite of baked beans into her mouth just for something to do.
He stared at his plate, his cowboy hat blocking the view of his face. “She went to the chapel in the hospital and prayed.” Dwayne lifted his eyes to Felicity’s. “Says that right after that, my brain readings improved.”
Felicity could barely swallow her food. She too was well-versed with praying in a hospital chapel. Why hadn’t God answered any of her pleas to help her father? Did God love his mother more than he loved Felicity? How could He save Dwayne and not her dad?
She hadn’t talked about her faltering faith since her father’s death, not even with Gordon. Certainly not with her mother, who’d seemed to make it her personal mission to help everyone around them who was also suffering. As if that would somehow ease her own heartache.
“What’s wrong?” Dwayne asked, his voice barely carrying across the picnic table.
Felicity shook her head, willing herself not to cry again.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said. “I was just saying that I can’t imagine having to make a decision like that. It must’ve been terribly hard.” He watched her without a shred of guile in his expression. The man was simply good.
“It was hard.” She cleared her throat. “And I don’t go to church because God didn’t answer my prayers the way he answered your mom’s.”
Chapter Twelve
Dwayne’s fork froze halfway to his mouth with his first bite of food.
Felicity gave a light laugh that didn’t mirror how she felt inside. “I had to go buy this dress yesterday,” she admitted. “I didn’t actually bring any church clothes with me.”
He just nodded and said, “That’s understandable.”
Was it? Felicity wasn’t even sure herself, but she was desperate for something lighter to talk about. All the drama, the crying, the confessions, they didn’t belong with such delicious food and such handsome company.
“Let’s talk about something else for a while,” she said.
“I have an obsession with guacamole,” he said. “We can talk about that.”
Felicity couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her mouth. “Food obsessions. Yes, let’s go down this path.”
“What’s one of yours?”
She took another bite of brisket. “Meat, obviously.”
“I already told you about my caramel popcorn addiction.” He finally took his first bite of coleslaw.
“Chicken pot pie,” she said. “I can’t get enough of it.”
He smiled, revealing his straight, white teeth. She liked making him smile. Wanted to see him do that everyday and be the reason he did.
“Let’s see…oh, bacon. Everyone loves bacon.”
Felicity gestured to the meat on her plate. “Salted cured pork. What’s not to love?”
“I’ll tell you what I don’t love. Lasagna.”
“Really?” She giggled as a breeze tickled her arms. “What don’t you like about it?”
“My mom used to make it when I was growing up.” He took a big swallow of his iced tea. “She put these huge fennel seeds in the sauce. I hated those.”
“No fennel seeds. Got it.”
“Do you do a lot of cooking?”
“Not a ton,” she said. “But my mother managed to make me proficient in the kitchen.” Felicity flashed him a smile that felt crumbly around the edges. “She’s happy about that, at least.”
Dwayne reached over and touched her hand, his fingers there and then gone. His skin on hers gave her courage for some reason. Made her feel worthy of something she hadn’t thought herself worthy of in a long time. Love. Acceptance.
“And for the record, I really don’t like cantaloupe,” she said in an attempt to distract herself from such deep, self-probing thoughts.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” he said in a playful, flirtatious tone. “There’s nothing better than cold melon on a hot summer day.”
Felicity smiled at the same time she rolled her eyes. It was nice to have him to talk to, as she hadn’t had someone to share her life with in a while. Even before her father’s stroke and death, Felicity hadn’t really confided in him the things she’d needed to. Her worries over only having horses for friends. Over growing old alone, with only the ranch to show others what her life had meant.
As Dwayne cleared their empty plates and took her hand in his with a quiet, “Want to walk a little?” Felicity realized with crystal clear clarity what she’d been miss
ing in Marysville.
Dwayne Carver.
She stepped with him, the strength of his presence next to her comforting and deep. It seemed natural to send a prayer of gratitude to the Lord for leading her to Grape Seed Falls and the ranch there which needed a horse trainer. So she did.
But really, she wondered if God had known all along that it was Felicity who needed the ranch, needed Dwayne, in her life.
Dwayne drove toward his sister’s place after dropping Felicity back at her house. He’d spent the drive back to Grape Seed Falls in near-panic mode as he contemplated kissing Felicity before separating for the evening.
He hadn’t known if he should walk her to her front door or not. Hadn’t wanted to kiss her in broad daylight, with the possibility of her neighbors seeing. Didn’t think he could walk her to her door and not kiss her.
So he’d sat in his truck and said, “Thanks for comin’ with me. I had a real great time. See you tomorrow.”
She’d echoed the words back to him, tucked her hair, and scampered up the front walk to her door.
And he’d been driving in circles around town, trying to decide if he wanted more company—especially Heather’s—or if he should head back to the ranch and go through everything alone.
In the end, he pulled into Heather’s driveway and made his way to her porch. She exited the house before he arrived and leaned against the pillar. “Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up.” She grinned and filled the air with a laugh.
“I need some advice.” He climbed the steps and went inside. “Do you have any coffee?”
“Coffee? Oh boy.” She closed the door behind him, sealing in all the blessed air conditioning, and gestured him into the kitchen. “Gonna be a long night?”
“I’m fixin’ to ask for your help,” he said. “That requires caffeine.”
She swatted him as she passed and turned on the water to fill the coffee pot. “So you go to pick up Felicity for church and then you two disappear. Sounds risqué.”
“We went to Honey’s Hickory. Nothing risqué about barbeque.”
“Our mother was speculating from here to Vegas about what you two were doing.”
Dwayne settled onto a barstool at Heather’s counter. “Our mother has an overactive imagination.”
“She got married when she was nineteen,” Heather said. “I think she’s actually disappointed in us.”
Dwayne chuckled and said, “Nah. She told me lots of times ‘Don’t get married too soon, Dwayne. Go see the world. Do something before you can’t.’”
Heather turned from where she was scooping coffee granules into the filter. “She said that?”
“More than once. I don’t think the Marines was what she meant.” His parents hadn’t exactly been disappointed, but they hadn’t been pleased either. After all, they’d already seen the dangers of war with Dwayne’s cousin, Squire. He’d joined the Army and been through a lot before he was ultimately injured and honorably discharged too.
“She never told me that,” Heather said, returning to her task. “I’m sure I’ve disappointed her by remaining single for so long.” She spoke in a quiet way that alerted Dwayne to her pain.
“You’ll find someone, Heather.”
She tossed him a glare over her shoulder. “We’ve already talked about this.” She finished prepping the coffee and joined him at the bar. “I want details about you and Felicity.”
Dwayne had come here of his own free will, so he heaved a breath and started talking. He finished with, “So yeah. That’s it.”
“You didn’t even walk her to the door?”
“It’s four o’clock in the afternoon.”
“So you think a kiss can only happen after dark? Is that it?”
“No.” A flush rose through his chest. “I’m…what are we if I kiss her? You know? She works at the ranch. What if we break up?”
Heather stirred her second cup of coffee, the first getting drained while Dwayne had related everything that had happened between him and Felicity over the past week. His sister at least seemed to be thinking about his questions.
“Well, since you don’t exactly date that much, I think if you kiss Felicity, she’d be your girlfriend.”
Dwayne tried to swallow, but his throat was so tight, he couldn’t. He’d thought the same. If he kissed someone he felt as strongly about as he did Felicity, she’d definitely be his girlfriend. After all, he didn’t go around kissing every woman he met. Or even meeting women.
He wasn’t sure how to feel about having a girlfriend after being single for so long. Part of him wanted to have that other person to confide in, to talk to, to have and to hold. Part of him thought he was doing just fine on his own. Sure, maybe the evenings were lonely sometimes, with just him and the dogs and that silent guitar, but at least his heart was whole.
“She does work at the ranch,” Heather said. “But I don’t see why it matters. You run the ranch, not the horse training.”
“I run it all.”
“But you don’t have to. If you broke up, you could get Kurt to oversee what Felicity does. You wouldn’t have to talk to her or anything.”
Dwayne couldn’t imagine what it would take to make him want to avoid Felicity. Every cell in his body and brain right now wanted to be with her, talk to her, learn more about her, kiss her.
Kiss her.
He really wanted to kiss her.
“I guess that’s a good point.” His voice came out a bit strangled, and he swallowed a mouthful of coffee to clear the emotion. “I—she seems, I don’t know. Broken up about her father’s death.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“How do I handle that delicately?”
“Same way you did today. Ask her questions. Let her talk. Hold her when she cries.”
Dwayne hadn’t thought he’d done anything special. Certainly not anything grand or helpful. But maybe he had. Maybe just being there and offering a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear had been enough.
He finished his coffee and stood. “Thanks, Heather.” He hugged his sister, fiercely glad he had her to talk to. “Want me to set you up with one of the cowboys? Every one of ‘em out there is single. They’re not bad guys.”
She cast her eyes toward the ceiling as if praying for patience. “They’re cowboys, Dwayne.”
“You like cowboys.”
“I’ve dated too many of them to like them.” She sniffed and Dwayne sensed she was hiding something. What, he didn’t know.
“So which one do you want to go out with?” he asked.
Heather met his eye with a wary edge in hers. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
Dwayne raised his right hand in the Boy Scout salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“Well….” Heather shuffled her feet and couldn’t look at him. Her face turned a bright shade of red, and Dwayne chuckled.
“Oh, you really like this man.”
“He doesn’t work at your ranch.”
“Oh, even more mysterious.”
“But you know him.”
“So am I guessing?”
She shrugged and didn’t offer a name, so Dwayne started thinking. “I know him. He doesn’t work at the ranch. He’s a cowboy….” Honestly, it could be anyone who lived in Grape Seed Falls. The town was surrounded by half a dozen ranches, twice that many orchards, and parks and recreational areas that used horses. Even the mailman wore a cowboy hat on his route.
“I don’t know, Heather. Just tell me.”
“You talked to him this week.”
“And he doesn’t work at the ranch?” Dwayne had only gone to—“Levi?”
Heather’s blush intensified, if that were even possible.
Dwayne’s brain clicked through pieces, taking precious seconds to make them fit together. “Is that why you go ride at his place every Friday?”
“He doesn’t even know I’m alive,” Heather whispered. “It’s pathetic, really.” She seemed so broken that Dwayne’s heart cracked for his sister.
“You absolutely will not.” Heather looked up with fire in her eyes. “I’m—managing.” She choked out the last word.
Dwayne didn’t know what to say, so he pulled her into another hug. “I won’t say anything. But he’s a fool if he doesn’t see you standing right in front of him. Someone ought to tell him.” Dwayne wasn’t sure where Levi was on the girlfriend spectrum. He wasn’t dating anyone that Dwayne knew of, but Dwayne didn’t keep tabs on who was with whom around town.
“But it’s not going to be you.” Heather pulled away and flashed one of her brilliant smiles. “Now you better go let Mom and Dad know you didn’t get married this afternoon.”
That was a conversation Dwayne didn’t want to have, but he headed for the door with, “All right. See you later, sis.”
He didn’t go straight home, though. As the sun sank toward the west horizon, he drove down Bartlett Street one more time, his craving to kiss Felicity warring with his duty to get home and get ready for another long week of ranching.
Please help her, he prayed as her bungalow came into view. Heal her hurt. Let her know You care about her, even though her dad died when she asked You to save him.
She hadn’t said those words exactly, but he’d understood her meaning all the same. Dwayne hadn’t spent any time wondering why he’d had to go through a bombing. Why his life had been spared. Why he’d had to learn to speak and think and sleep through the night again. He’d accepted God’s will for his life, but he knew that wasn’t an easy thing to do.
“Help me help her,” he whispered as he turned at the end of the street and went by the Hammond’s peach orchard. “If I can, let me help her.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dwayne’s radio went off before he’d even finished dressing in the morning. “Coyotes in the herd in sector nine.” The distance and warbling of Kurt’s voice didn’t erase his concern.
Dwayne grabbed his hat, stuffed his feet into his boots, and left his house. He hadn’t eaten breakfast or brushed his teeth. Didn’t matter. His cattle were more precious than calories or cavities.
