by Deb Kastner
Not to be deterred, her aunt hefted one of the bags, then led the way up the broad porch steps. “I’ve got your room ready—the one you always liked in the summer because of the shade from the red oak.”
“I remember when the tree was only a sapling.” Lindsey paused on the top step. The elegant whitewashed Central Texas farmhouse she’d visited so often throughout her childhood looked the same...and yet not. Time and neglect had taken their toll.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Audra sighed as they walked into the wide foyer. “Since Charles—” A small choking noise sounded in her throat. “I haven’t had the will or the wherewithal to keep up this place. I’ve already sold off most of the herd to keep from going completely under.”
“It’s okay. I’m here to help.” Lindsey gave her aunt a gentle squeeze. “It’s time someone took care of you for a change.” Audra’s dismissive wave couldn’t hide the moisture filling her eyes.
Jaw clenched, she hefted Lindsey’s suitcase and marched up the curving carpeted staircase. “Don’t know what I’d have done the last few months if not for Spencer pitching in—though his dad and grandpa most likely don’t approve.”
At the mention of Spencer Navarro, Lindsey’s heart threw in an extra beat. As a young teenager, she’d harbored a major crush on the ebony-haired, dashingly good-looking boy whose family owned the neighboring horse ranch. Didn’t matter that his identical twin brother, Samuel, was the more outgoing and fun-loving of the two. Something about Spencer’s quiet nature and gentle way with horses had enthralled her from the first time they’d met.
That is, until the summer after her seventeenth birthday, when he’d cruelly broken her heart. Humiliating her in front of all his friends at the Gabriel Bend Fourth of July picnic, he’d stated loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Beat it, Lindsey. Navarros and McClements don’t mix.”
Shaking off the memory, she rolled her suitcase to the end of the four-poster bed. “Does Spencer still have the beard?” It had been a new look for him when she’d glanced his way at Uncle Charles’s funeral. At least he and his mother had had the courtesy to show up and pay their respects, even if his father and grandfather couldn’t put aside the long-standing Navarro-McClement feud long enough to do so themselves.
“The beard’s a nice change. Manly, don’t you think?” Audra patted Lindsey’s arm. “Let’s get the rest of your things upstairs. Then you can freshen up while I get supper on the table.”
“I’m fine, Aunt—I mean, Audra. Really, I don’t want you fussing over me.”
“But this is your first night here, and you’ve had such a long drive from St. Louis.” Already bustling toward the door, Audra turned with a bright smile. “I’m cooking your favorite—pot roast with new potatoes, peas and baby carrots.”
“I can smell it already.” Lindsey inhaled appreciatively, then linked arms with her aunt. “The rest of my things can wait till morning. Tell me what I can do to help you in the kitchen, and then we can sit down for a nice, long chat over supper.”
Predictably, Audra refused to let Lindsey lift a finger while she bustled around the kitchen setting out dishes and flatware, filling glasses with iced tea, and tossing a garden salad. A glance at the built-in desk next to the fridge revealed a chaotic stack of paperwork—mostly bills, judging from what Lindsey could see from where she sat. Would her aunt think her too forward if she took a closer look? It was part of the reason she’d come after all—to try to make sense of her aunt’s financial nightmare in the wake of Uncle Charles’s illness and death.
Before she could act on the impulse, a knock sounded at the back door. “Would you get that, honey?” Audra paused in the middle of transferring the pot roast and veggies to a platter. “It’s probably Spencer. The sweet boy brings me my mail sometimes so I don’t have to trek all the way down to the road.”
The hitch in Lindsey’s heartbeat returned. She rose stiffly, then tugged at her jeans and sweater on her way to the door. Opening it, she pasted on a cool smile for the man in the denim jacket and cowboy hat. “Spencer. Long time no see.”
Dark brows shot up over eyes the color of richest sable. “Lindsey?” Her name came out in a surprised squeak. “Didn’t realize the strange car out front was yours.”
“The Missouri plates weren’t a dead giveaway?” Seeing him again up close—and with the neatly trimmed facial hair making him look even more rakishly handsome than she remembered—it was all she could do to keep her tone casual.
“Guess I wasn’t paying attention.” He tapped a stack of envelopes and advertising flyers against his palm. “I brought Audra’s mail.”
“Thank you.” She swallowed. “I hear you’ve been kind to my aunt.”
“Just being neighborly.” Handing her the mail, he nodded and turned to go.
Audra joined Lindsey at the door. “Spencer, maybe you could help Lindsey bring in the rest of her luggage.”
“Uh, sure. Anything I can do.”
“I told you it can wait.” Lindsey flicked her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure Spencer has better things to do, and we were about to eat, so—”
“Go on, honey.” Audra winked as she reached for the mail Lindsey held. “I’ll keep supper warm. And you’re certainly welcome to stay and join us, Spencer.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but my mom already has something in the oven.”
“Another time, then. Lindsey’s going to be here a good long while, so you two will have lots of time to catch up.” With a satisfied nod, Audra returned to her meal preparations.
Lindsey folded her arms in a vain attempt to quell the awkwardness of the moment. “It’s fine if you need to get home, Spencer.”
He looked almost ready to take her up on the reprieve. Then, with a barely disguised sigh, he said, “No rush. Mom doesn’t usually serve dinner until closer to seven.”
“If you’re sure—”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”
“But you didn’t offer. Aunt Audra volunteered you.”
“Semantics,” he said with a sharp laugh. “Want to stand here arguing about it or shall we get the job done?”
She flinched. “I’ll grab my keys.”
Amazing good looks included, Spencer Navarro hadn’t changed much over the years. Seemed his easy rapport with horses had never transitioned to effective people skills.
Either that, or he found Lindsey’s presence even more offensive than he had twelve years ago.
* * *
Open mouth, insert foot. The story of Spencer’s life. It was obvious Lindsey hadn’t forgotten his teenage stupidity. Hadn’t forgiven him, either.
Clamping his teeth together, he marched around the side of the house to where Lindsey had parked. Did the woman have any clue how badly she intimidated him? Smart, classy Lindsey McClement could do no wrong in his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to do anything right in hers. Hence, the fateful moment when he’d snubbed her in front of all his friends because...well, he hadn’t really had a good reason, except that a group of his grandfather’s cronies had been watching from across the street. Although Dad and Tito—short for abuelito, the Spanish word for “grandpa”—usually turned a blind eye to the twins and Lindsey hanging out together on the ranch, fraternizing with a McClement in public wasn’t so easily tolerated.
The front porch light blinked on, and Lindsey trotted down the steps. Keys in hand, she popped the trunk. “If you wouldn’t mind getting the heavier suitcases, I’d appreciate it.”
He stared wide-eyed at the array of luggage, bags and boxes. “Wow, looks like you’re moving in.”
“I am, actually...for now.” She edged around him to scoop up a couple of bulging shopping bags.
“But I thought you had a great job at some big financial firm in St. Louis.”
“Had being the operative word. I quit last week. And the job wasn’t that great.�
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He’d obviously hit on a sore subject. “Sorry.” Unsure what else to say, he manhandled a two-ton suitcase out of the trunk, then tromped inside behind Lindsey.
Upstairs, they followed a threadbare carpet runner down the long hallway. At the far door, Lindsey showed him into an airy but cluttered guest room. The branches of a scraggly oak tree clawed the window screen.
“Anywhere’s fine,” Lindsey said, motioning toward the monster suitcase pulling his shoulder out of its socket. “I’ll figure out later where everything will go.”
He maneuvered the behemoth over to a mirrored armoire. “Forgot how big this house is. A lot to manage for someone living alone, not to mention trying to keep the ranch going.”
“We’ll find a way. There’s been a McClement living in this house since my grandpa settled here more than sixty-five years ago.” Almost to herself, she added, “And if I have any say in the matter, that isn’t going to change.”
Spencer didn’t risk a reply. No sense bringing up how his grandfather and Lindsey’s had once been best friends and together had invested in the original ranch holdings, now split down the middle by a couple miles of barbed-wire fence.
More importantly, he couldn’t imagine why Audra Forrester would want to stay on here by herself. She and Charles had moved in nearly twenty years ago so her parents could age in place. The elder McClements had since passed on, and it had been just Audra and Charles puttering around in the huge old house while struggling to keep the family cattle business going. Even with Charles coming home from Iraq a paraplegic, they’d both been determined to carry on. Somehow they’d made it work. Feuding families or not, Spencer couldn’t help but admire such courage.
A year ago Charles had gotten sick with the flu, which had turned into pneumonia, and his lungs never fully recovered. He’d had one infection after another, and when he caught a cold a few months ago, it proved too much for his weakened system. The sight of Lindsey comforting her weeping aunt at the graveside, Charles’s wheelchair standing empty nearby, had almost done Spencer in. Considering his and Lindsey’s history, any words of sympathy he’d hoped to offer would have come out sounding useless and hollow, so he’d left that duty to his much more tactful mother and quietly slipped away.
Of course, if Audra did sell the property, Lindsey would have no more reason to visit Gabriel Bend. Not that he’d seen her that often the past several years. Following his public rebuff, those lengthy summer vacations at her grandparents’ ranch had come to an abrupt end. He’d heard she’d gone on to a prestigious college, then accepted the allegedly not-so-great job in St. Louis. Charles Forrester’s funeral was the first time in years that Spencer could remember her being in town for more than a couple of days at a time.
They made two more treks upstairs without much more than an “Excuse me” or an “Oops” as they tried not to get in each other’s way. After the final trip, Spencer paused in the foyer, hand on the doorknob. “It’s good you’re here. For your aunt’s sake. She’s had a rough time.”
“Yes, she has.” Mouth firm, Lindsey glanced away. “I’m grateful for how good you’ve been to Aunt Audra since Uncle Charles died. But I’m here now, so...”
“Right.” He pulled open the door. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Spencer.” Arms crossed, she released a slow breath. “It’s just that...since we’re likely to cross paths now and again... I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“Good. Thank you for understanding. And thanks again for helping with my stuff.” She rested a hand on the side of the door, preparing to close it behind him. “Say hi to your mother for me.”
“Sure. You, too.” Striding out to the porch, he rolled his eyes at his lame reply. Good one, Navarro. Articulate as ever. His brother, a successful commercial real estate broker in Houston, would have had no trouble coming back with something charming and witty.
Or could this be Spencer’s chance to offer a long-overdue apology?
He halted and turned slightly, fingertips stuffed into his back pockets. “Lindsey, I wanted to say I’m sorry about—”
“Hey, looks like you’ve got company.” She leaned in the open doorway.
He looked toward the road, where a mud-encrusted sheriff’s department SUV pulling a two-horse trailer passed through his entrance gate. The trailer rode too heavy to be empty. “Better get home. Looks like the livestock deputy’s delivering the rescue horse he called me about.”
“A rescue?” Lindsey’s brows drew together.
“Yeah, the deputy sometimes calls on me to foster a horse until it’s healthy enough be rehomed—when my dad allows it, anyway.” Frustration gnawing, Spencer frowned. “He’s concerned about something contagious being spread to our quarter horses.”
“I can see how that might be a problem.” Lower lip drawn between her teeth, Lindsey studied him. Her gaze softened. “Your love of horses—it’s one of the things I always most admired about you.”
He swallowed his surprise. “Thanks. I didn’t think—”
“You should go.” She nodded toward his driveway, where the deputy was unloading a horse from the back of the trailer.
“Right. See you around.” Before this conversation became even more uncomfortable, he jogged down the steps and headed across the field toward home.
And thought about Lindsey the whole way, back when they were innocent kids who couldn’t have cared less about a stupid family feud. He’d once thought of Lindsey as just a city kid having fun playing cowgirl for a few weeks every summer. Until they were teens, anyway, when he’d started seeing her in a whole new way. Then, watching his much more outgoing twin flirt with her, he’d accepted that he could never compete with Samuel’s charisma.
Sam. Right. Which might be the true reason he’d so callously brushed her off that summer. He loved his brother, but it sure was hard sometimes living in Samuel’s shadow.
* * *
Watching Spencer go, Lindsey suffered a shiver of disappointment. A part of her wished she’d offered to help Spencer with the rescue horse. As a kid, she’d spent many steamy summer mornings working alongside the Navarro boys as they mucked stalls and groomed horses. Samuel had typically hurried through chores so he could do something fun. Perhaps it was Spencer’s thoughtful way of making sure everything was done right that had first captured her heart. After chores, when the three of them would saddle up to go gallivanting across the pastures in search of adventure, she’d try to stick close to him, though he’d never seemed to return her interest. Too bad she hadn’t gotten the message.
Even so, Lindsey’s summers in Gabriel Bend remained among her happiest vacation memories. In fact, after her parents separated the year she’d turned twelve, those weeks spent at the McClement ranch had become her lifeline.
Stomach clenching, she went inside and quietly closed the door. Everything had changed after Dad walked out. Mom had been a total wreck, and if Audra hadn’t taken Mom’s side instead of her selfish brother’s, things would have been even harder.
“Lindsey,” Audra called from the kitchen, “supper’s ready whenever you are.”
“Coming.” Suppressing a surge of bitterness toward her traitorous father, she strode down the hall. Perhaps someday she could forgive him for turning his back on the family, but it hadn’t happened yet. If he’d shown even the slightest remorse—but no, he seemed perfectly content living somewhere near Tulsa with his current live-in girlfriend and her two kids from her own failed marriage. Guess they deserved each other.
Audra was ladling gravy into a deep-sided bowl. “Haven’t heard so much tromping up and down that creaky staircase since you and your mom used to come for summer vacations.” She chuckled. “How many trips to your car did it take?”
Lindsey narrowed one eye in thought as she took her chair. “Three or
four? I lost count. But I’m sure my quads will remind me in the morning.”
“Nice that Spencer could spare a few minutes to give you a hand. He’s such a sweetheart.” Finger to her chin, Audra surveyed the table. “Did I forget anything? I have artificial sweetener if you’d prefer.”
Lindsey seized her aunt’s hand and cast her a chiding smile. “Everything is fine. Sit down right now and stop fussing.”
Giving a weak laugh, Audra obeyed but frowned as if it pained her not to be doing something more. Her compliance lasted about five minutes before she hopped up to add more ice to Lindsey’s glass, then a few minutes later to refill the gravy bowl. The dear woman didn’t know how to stop taking care of others and just be.
After supper, Lindsey put her foot down. “I am doing the dishes, and if you move from that chair, I will escort you from the kitchen and bolt the door.”
Audra feigned a pout. “Can I disobey long enough to give you a hug?”
“Fine,” Lindsey said, rising, “but stay in your chair and I’ll come around to you.”
As they shared the embrace, she noted again her aunt’s gaunt frame. Though Audra had served herself an ample portion of pot roast, far too much remained on her plate. Lindsey briefly debated whether to mention her concern but decided it could wait. After a few days of combing through Audra’s financial mess, perhaps she could relieve her aunt’s worries enough that she’d relax and start eating better.
