by Amber Kelly
“Can we help you?” I ask Mrs. Reid.
“No, no, dear. I’ve got it. I just get discombobulated and forget where I put things sometimes.”
She finally locates the small dessert plates and three teacups and brings them to the table and sets them down.
“Now, I know I have tea bags here somewhere. Walker always makes sure I have them,” she says as she disappears into the pantry.
She returns with a box in hand and offers us each a bag for our cups just as the kettle starts to whistle. She turns to grab it, but I jump up.
“Oh, please, let me,” I offer. “It’s the least I can do. You are being so kind.”
She smiles and sits at the head of the table, and I pour the steaming water into our cups.
Sonia is remarkable at handling her and guiding the conversation. By the time we finish our tea, she has exacted a ton of information from Mrs. Reid. We know her daily routine, her favorite foods, what television shows she likes to watch, her nap time, and her favorite cut flowers—all without her suspecting for a moment that she is being interviewed. We are just three girls chatting over tea and pastries.
Before long, we are in the living room, watching Family Feud and helping her sort clean laundry. It’s three hours later before we say our good-byes. She gives us each a hug and gladly accepts Sonia’s offer to drop by the next day for tea before waving as we drive away.
“She’s very sweet. She is also losing her hearing. She could be in the early stages of age-related dementia, or more than likely, she’s slightly confused because of the combination of medications she’s on. I looked at her list Walker said would be on the fridge, and if she’s taking a couple of those too close together, it could be affecting her cognitive functioning,” Sonia surmises.
“So, are you going to take her on?” I ask
“Yeah. I think we’ll get along just fine, and I might even be able to help straighten her out with taking her meds on a different schedule. We’ll work on it and see if she improves.”
I’m so glad. I know this will be a huge burden off Walker’s shoulders.
Walker
“You want to check out the new place Shane Anderson and his son opened up later?” Payne asks me as we hose off in the barn. He came out this evening to pitch in and help with the fence.
“What new place?” I ask.
“Poplar Falls Brewing. They moved into the spot beside the Dancing Dragonfly bookstore on Main Street,” he answers.
“Guess he got tired of making his own brew in his backyard and selling it out of the trunk of his car,” I muse.
“Yep, now, he has an establishment where he can sell his private label and a few other local brews. Foster told Myer they have over twenty beers on tap and a couple of hard ciders. I walked by there the other day on the way to drop off Beau with Dallas at the bakery. It looks pretty awesome inside. It has seventy-inch televisions to watch games, large picnic-style tables, and dartboards.”
“Sounds good to me. I like Anderson’s microbrew. They sell grub?” I ask.
“Yes, they sell sandwiches and wings.”
“Perfect.”
We each finish hosing off and pull on a thermal and a clean pair of jeans.
“I’ll let Doreen know I’m not staying for supper tonight. Be right back,” I tell him as I head to the back door of the house.
Elle and Sonia are setting the table when I peek in.
“Will you let Doreen and Ria know that I’m heading out and I won’t be staying for supper tonight?” I ask.
“Sure. You got a hot date?” Sonia asks.
“Nah, I’m just going to grab a beer and wings with Payne in town.”
“Elle and I spent the afternoon over at your momma’s place,” Sonia says, and I walk the rest of the way in.
“And what did you decide?” I ask.
“I charge fifteen dollars an hour, and I’ll spend at least two hours a day with her. That’ll come to about six hundred a month, cash, if you want me,” she says, putting the offer on the table.
“It’s a deal. I’ll pay the first month up-front. I’ll leave the money at Mom’s house in the morning, and you can pick it up there.”
“Works for me. You can leave it in an envelope with my name on it on top of the refrigerator. I’ll spend the rest of this week just getting to know her and letting her get used to me, and then you and I will sit down together and discuss her care. I think she might need to switch up a few things, like when she takes her medication and stuff like that. Which I’ll handle every day but I want to keep you in the loop with everything I do.”
I give her a hug. “Thank you,” I say as I release her.
She has no idea what a relief it is for me to just know she’ll have her eyes on Mom when I can’t.
“You’re welcome.”
We hear a horn beep outside.
“That’d be my impatient passenger,” I say as I head back to the door.
Elle looks up. “What, no good-bye hug for me? I went with her to see your momma today, you know,” she complains.
I quickly turn back, pick her up off the floor, swing her around, and squeeze her tight before I place her back on her feet.
I tap her nose with my finger. “Good night, Elle,” I say, and she grins.
“Much better,” she says breathlessly.
Another quick succession of horn blasts fills the air.
Ria comes in the door. “Goodness, why is Payne making such a racket out there?”
“Trying to light a fire under me,” I say as I place a kiss to her cheek when I rush by her.
After I climb in the truck, we head to town, and I feel like celebrating.
“This place is nice,” I admit as we carry our frosty mugs to one of the tables.
The Thursday night game is on above the bar, and the waitress brings us extra napkins and a couple of small plates with two glasses of ice water.
“Your wings will be up in a minute,” she says before disappearing behind the bar.
“You know my aunt and uncle are opening up a barbeque place beside Doc Haralson’s office at the first of the year,” I tell him.
“Awesome. I like having a few new spots in town for grabbing a hot meal and a cold beer. Us bachelors need more options,” he says.
“Ain’t that the truth?” I agree.
After we eat, we play a few games of darts and order another round of beers when a couple of girls we know join us. We buy them each a cider and spend the next hour trying to teach them how to throw a dart straight. It doesn’t work, but it’s fun, trying.
“You girls want to come back to my place for a nightcap?” Payne invites when Anderson tells us it’s closing time.
“Sure, if you guys want to continue the party?” the brunette answers for them as I pay our tab.
“I think I’m going to head home and turn in, man,” I say as I put my card back in my wallet.
“Really? But it’s so early.” Her blonde friend pouts up at me as we exit to the parking lot.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m beat tonight, and I have to be up bright and early to put in another long day. I’ll take a rain check though and cash it in for a nightcap another time,” I say as I slide my phone from my pocket. I hand it to her. “Put your number in here.”
She takes my phone and taps her name and number into my Contacts.
I make note of her name before hitting Add and putting my phone away.
I pull her in and kiss her before promising, “I’ll call you later, Sherry.”
“You do that,” she says before walking to her friend’s car.
“I’ll catch a ride home with them. You sure you don’t want to join us, man?” Payne asks.
I shake my head. “You enjoy yourself though,” I encourage.
He slaps me on the back. “Oh, I will,” he says before trotting out to their car.
Sherry waves and blows me a kiss through the back window as they peel off.
Who am I, choosing rest over a night o
f fun with a willing female?
This responsible-grown-up shit is for the birds, I tell myself as I walk to my truck.
My phone chimes with a text. I pull it out, thinking it’s probably Sherry trying one last time to convince me to follow them to Payne’s house.
Instead, it’s a message from Elle.
Us girls got tipsy and painted our own pottery tonight. I made these frames. I think they turned out pretty awesome. What do you think?
I click to download the attached photo, and it’s of the nightstand beside her bed. Sitting side by side in matching purple frames are the picture of her and Braxton and their mom and dad with the snowman and the one of us from the other night with our snowman.
I reply with the thumbs-up emoji because I’m a guy, and that’s how we reply to everything.
She returns my text with a heart emoji.
I smile to myself and drive home to get some sleep.
Elle
We leave for Fort Collins in two days. I’m actually looking forward to having a couple of days away. We’ve all been so busy the last two weeks with the guys getting the pasture ready while Sophie and I have been getting everything scheduled for bringing the new stock home, assisting with the Halloween Trunk or Treat at the church this past weekend, and helping Aunt Madeline set up one of the spare bedrooms downstairs as a sensory room for the children she has coming in for therapy starting after the holidays.
Now, Aunt Doreen and Aunt Ria are recruiting us all to get the house decorated and ready for Thanksgiving.
This is my favorite time of year. I love the holidays, always have, and with the new friends and family members and marriages and the ranch expansion, there is even more reason to be merry this year.
Bellamy will be home the week after we return from Fort Collins, and she’ll be here for almost two weeks for Thanksgiving break. She, Sonia, and I always spend Thanksgiving morning and afternoon in Aurora, volunteering at the rescue mission, preparing and serving a hot, classic Thanksgiving meal to the homeless before coming back and having dinner with our families. Gram started the tradition when we were little girls, and we haven’t missed a single one in over twenty years.
Gram always said that serving others teaches us to be grateful for what we have and to remember to never take anything for granted.
I miss her. The holidays aren’t quite the same without her here with us. Our family is like a puzzle. We lost another important piece when she went to be with Jesus. That’s a total of three missing pieces lost forever, so our puzzle will never be complete again. But we did recover one lost piece when Sophie found her way back to us, so yes, we’re incomplete, but we’re still a beautiful work of art.
I’m scheduled to take the Certified Occupational Therapy Assistant exam for National American University in December, and if I pass, I can enter as a second-year student for the winter semester. Many of my classes from the community college will transfer over and count toward my associate’s degree. Once I have that, I will be certified by the National Board for Certification in Occupational Therapy and start working with Aunt Madeline as a legitimate OT assistant, which will help her get approval to take on more hippotherapy clients next fall. The university offers a combined online and on-campus format. That will allow me to do the bulk of my classes from home, and I’ll only be required on-site at their Centennial campus for a few lectures, labs, exams, and a handful of hands-on demonstrations, which will fit perfectly into my schedule with Sophie.
For the first time ever, I feel like I have a plan and am moving in the right direction in life. Nothing about working with special needs children feels overwhelming or scary to me. I look forward to being a positive part of their journey and to hopefully be a bright light for their parents.
I sit on the porch and wait for Sonia to pick me up. I worked with Sophie this morning, and now, I’m making the post-office run to check the ranch’s PO box and then swinging by the bank to pick up Rustic Peak’s corporate credit card, which Sophie ordered in my name ahead of our trip. Then, Sonia and I are having lunch in town and heading to Denver to pick up Charlotte at the airport.
Walker pulls up on a tractor and stops in front of the steps.
He whistles. “Look at you. Where are you headed?” he asks.
I look down at my black jeans and off-the-shoulder red sweater. “Lunch,” I answer.
He hops off the tractor. “Lucky lunch date. You look gorgeous in red,” he says as he makes his way on to the porch.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting his compliment for the fact that I know he means it. “Are you taking a break?” I ask.
“Just coming to grab the sandwiches Doreen and Ria made for us and taking them out to the guys,” he says.
“Are you guys close to finishing up out there?”
“Almost. We should get the last posts wired up before we leave tomorrow. One of the crews Jefferson hired will work while we’re gone this weekend and make sure everything is secure and ready before we return on Monday.”
“I know you guys are relieved. You’ve worked so hard. I still can’t believe you pulled it off in time.”
“What? Woman, there is nothing we can’t get done if we want it bad enough,” he says with a grin.
“So cocky,” I tease, and his lips twitch.
“Say that again,” he dares.
“Say what?” I ask as I feel myself starting to blush.
He leans over and says in my ear, “You know what. I like hearing that dirty word come out of your sweet mouth.”
Now, I know my face is as red as my sweater.
“Cocky is not a dirty word,” I point out.
“I still like the way you say it,” he teases me.
The front door swings open, and Aunt Ria comes bouncing out, with a loaded tray in hand.
“Elle, dear, can you do me a favor and take this up to Sophie in the office?”
“I’ll get it, Ria,” Walker offers as he walks over to relieve her of the platter holding a tea pitcher and sandwich.
“Thank you, Walker,” she says as she hands it over and scurries back into the house.
He carries it down the steps and in the direction of the barn. As he passes me, he says, “Have fun on your lunch date.”
I stay silent as I watch him climb the steps up to the office. Was he flirting with me? Is that what just happened? I know Walker flirts with everyone, but something about that exchange felt different.
He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me one last time before he disappears behind it.
A shiver runs down my spine just as Sonia’s car drives through the gate.
“What do you really think of Walker?” I ask Sonia on our way to town.
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I just want your true, general opinion of him.”
She slides her eyes from the road to me. “You like him,” she accuses.
“Of course I like him.”
“No, you like him, like him,” she stresses.
“Just answer the question,” I say in frustration.
She thinks for a minute and then answers, “Well, he’s charming and funny, a little mysterious, dependable, but also kind of wild. He can be a jackass for sure, and he loves the ladies—and I do mean, all the ladies. And they sure do love him right back. He can drink like a fish, and he plays hard, but he works hard, too, so that’s okay, I reckon. He is sexy as hell. And that voice! His voice could melt the panties off an ice queen. And when he plays that guitar, damn.” She sighs.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“Bells and I have always crushed on him and Braxton,” she admits.
“Not me. I always thought of Walker as a big brother, I guess, but lately, I don’t know. He’s always been a huge flirt, but it feels different, or maybe I’m just taking it differently. I’m so confused.”
“I’ve noticed it too,” she says.
“You have?”
“Uh-huh. He looks at you now. Really looks at you. Espe
cially when he thinks no one is paying attention.”
“What do you think it means?”
She pulls the car in front of the post office and puts it in park. Then, she turns to me. “What do you want it to mean?”
“It’s Walker. Even if I did want it to be something, he is never going to settle down, right? It would just be a fling, just something casual. God, what am I saying? That’s nuts. There is nothing between us. I’m just being hypothetical.”
“There is nothing wrong with fantasizing about the hot rancher who shows up to your house to work every day. But be careful. You’re right. He’s not boyfriend material. He’s a bad boy you take for a spin but don’t get your heart tangled up in, which isn’t your style, Elle. You are not that girl. Besides, Braxton and Jefferson would lose their damn minds if he crossed a line with you. Flirting? They are used to that. Hell, he flirts with Doreen and Ria. He still flirts with Dallas and Sophie even though they are married to his best friends. He flirts with anything, but if they thought he was taking it further with you … they’d flip.”
I know she’s right. Braxton would kill us both—Walker, literally.
“You’re right. Of course you’re right. I need to stop thinking of him as anything other than Braxton’s friend and coworker. I need to get out more. Meet new people and date.”
“Are there still no sparks between you and Dr. Haralson?”
I shake my head. “He’s great. It’s not that I’m not attracted to him. I just think he needs a friend more than anything right now. I can’t put my finger on it. He’s a good man, but he’s not ready for a relationship.”
“Bummer. He’s so dang handsome. I had high hopes for him and you.”
“So did everyone else, but I don’t think it’s meant to be, just poor timing.”
“A bad boy or a good man—that’s every girl’s dilemma. The fact is, we want both, yet somehow, I always get stuck with one and not the other,” she says with a frown.
And that is the truth of it all. We want the one who is a little naughty. The one who can light a fire in us with one wicked glance, but we also need the one we can count on. The one who will love us through all the hard shit life can throw at us.
