Their Wander Canyon Wish

by Allie Pleiter

  She started around him, nervy old bird that she was, but he stepped in her path again. “You’re not talking to her, either.”

  “Excuse me?” she snapped.

  “I said you’re not talking to her, either, unless it’s to say how glad you are to see her and her adorable girls in church today.”

  She blinked at him for a moment, startled, and then narrowed her eyes in determination.

  Wyatt wasn’t having it. “Or maybe how delighted you are to see me. It’s been what—three years?” He spread his hands and raised his voice just enough to be heard by anyone nearby. “I’d think you be just tickled to see me back in church, Mrs. Binton. You are, aren’t you?”

  Her mouth shut so abruptly Wyatt heard her teeth clack together. God probably frowned on him enjoying baiting Old Biddy Binton as much as he did, but Wyatt seemed to remember God having a soft spot for defending the weak. And Wyatt was certainly feeling up to the job of defending Marilyn and her girls this afternoon. Make her back down, Lord, he stunned himself by praying. I might not do You proud if she picks a fight.

  God seemed to hear him, for Norma Binton turned on her sensible orthopedic heels and stalked off toward the table of baked goods without so much as another word.

  Marilyn gave him a look that was so filled with relief Wyatt felt his stomach do a flip. Life didn’t hand him many opportunities to play the hero—he’d forgotten what it could do to a guy. “Thanks.” She practically exhaled the word.

  “My pleasure,” he said, meaning it. He shouldn’t enjoy putting Norma Binton in her place like that. Especially not in church. But it made him feel ten feet tall for fending off whatever mean-spirited comment she was gearing up to launch at Marilyn. It had cost Mari a lot to show up today, to at least try to stand tall against what she was so sure was coming at her on account of Landon.

  Marilyn wasn’t entirely wrong. He’d lived in Wander long enough to know what small towns could do. He wouldn’t be able to shield her from every mean comment, although he would sure try. He wanted to take her hand, or hold her again, but knew this wasn’t the place. He wouldn’t do anything to topple her unsteady composure, not here in front of too many eyes.

  On their carousel ride later, however, he wasn’t sure he could master such restraint. His hands itched with the feel of her fingers entwined in his, and the way her head lay against his chest when she cried by the stream felt burned in his memory.

  Marilyn stared after the woman, now inside a knot of Wander women in deep conversation. “She won’t be the last.”

  “Who knows? Maybe they will stay quiet.” he replied, tamping down the urge to go declare his protection against the whole lot of them. They all never liked him anyway, so he had nothing to lose for Marilyn’s sake.

  The resignation in Marilyn’s eyes made him want to go hit something. Why did the kindest people have to learn how mean life could be? “Okay, so not likely,” he admitted. “So maybe we stay five more minutes just to show them you won’t scare off, and then we make a break for the carousel. The way the girls are boasting, I won’t be able to keep everyone else out much longer.”

  “And then you’ll get to play hero,” she said, her smile lighting a glow under his ribs. “Mr. Carousel Man.”

  I just did play hero, and it had nothing to do with that carousel. In truth, he took far more pride in fending off Norma Binton than in any community praise he might get for repairing the Wander Canyon Carousel. And that wasn’t about any public reputation. It was about a personal involvement. About the crazy level of care he was coming to feel for Marilyn. And her girls. He’d have stayed up all night just to fix the carousel for the three of them and no one else.

  And that scared him.

  For the first time in his life, he felt the urge to be careful with a woman. Careful. Him. He knew he had to tread carefully with her tender heart, to safeguard her wounded spirit. All this with the last woman on earth he would have pegged to throw him for this kind of loop. He’d just gone to church for her, for crying out loud.

  “And you know how much I like playing hero,” he said, dragging himself away from all such dangerous thoughts. He gave her a sly wink, a flash of his old self who would have enjoyed the double meaning of a man who never played hero. It didn’t quite work, because for Marilyn he did like playing hero.

  A pair of middle-aged couples Wyatt recognized as friends of Ed and Katie’s started walking toward him and Marilyn. One of them had the nerve to be holding the newspaper with those headlines about Landon. They had a look he knew all too well on their faces. It was the polite but sharp look that always preceded words like “I don’t mean to be unkind, but...”

  He stepped in front of Marilyn and gave them his darkest “don’t mess with me” glare. They slowed, but didn’t stop.

  He reached behind him and took Marilyn’s elbow, guiding her in the other direction. “Yep, we’re done here. Hey girls!” he called across the lawn. “Ready for that private carousel ride?”

  His words had the intended effect, announcing to the crowd that the carousel was now working but that only Marilyn and the girls were allowed to ride for now. He was fully ready to declare, “I fixed it—who rides is my call,” but folks were so startled that no one said a word. They all just stared as he and Marilyn gathered Margie and Maggie and headed toward the red carousel barn with something close to heads held high.

  He’d let the rest of the town in when he was good and ready, but for right now he was going to lock that door tight behind them. He was going to give this family their own burst of happiness with no one around to ruin it.

  Champion of defiance indeed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As they walked the block and a half to the carousel building, Marilyn was grateful for the girls’ nonstop excited chatter. It not only bathed her like an oil of grace, but it covered the growing pull between her and Wyatt. He was well on his way to winning her heart. With a carousel and a church service—who would have guessed? After all the stress and dread of the morning, she loved that the girls felt as if they’d been given a fabulous prize in this first ride.

  “I’m so glad we helped you fix the ride!” Maggie said as they reached the bright red building. Marilyn’s heart warmed with how they considered themselves helpers in Wyatt’s accomplishments. He’d been so good to them. He’d been so good to her.

  Wyatt unlocked the big red door and spread his arms wide in grinning triumph. It was such a small thing—this victory ride—and then again not small at all. In fact, it felt like the first big happy thing in far too long. “First things first.” Wyatt hoisted a girl in each arm and raised them toward the sorry little Out of Order sign that had marked their first meeting.

  “Yank it down, girls!” he commanded with mock authority.

  With a whoop, the girls pulled down the sign and proceeded to cover Wyatt in hugs and giggles. She watched him try to stay coolly above all the affection, but the moment he gave in cracked her heart open. He squinted his eyes shut and hugged the girls back, head thrown back in an unguarded laughter she felt fill her own chest.

  Wyatt caught her eyes as he lowered the girls to the ground, and the connection shot through Marilyn before she could stop it.

  The girls dashed ahead into the building, and Wyatt held out his hand to her. “I got an ostrich in here with your name on it.”

  She couldn’t have resisted for all the world. Suddenly a trip around that circle on a wooden ostrich called like the happiest thing in the world.

  “Does it really work? You fixed it?” Maddie came back and began yanking Wyatt’s arm toward the ride. Marilyn was grateful her exuberance broke the spell of Wyatt’s eyes and the warmth of his hand on hers. She’d wanted this moment, even prayed the carousel would be fixed. But now that it was here, it felt wonderful and dangerous and weighty all at the same time.

  “It really works,” Wyatt boasted. “And now
you get the first ride, just like I promised.”

  A pinch of shame rose in Marilyn’s chest for having doubted him. The events of the past year had knocked too much out of her. Maybe today really could mark the return of the optimism she’d felt gone from her life. From her whole spirit. Wouldn’t that be something?

  Wyatt went into the center column to hit the power switch, illuminating the myriad golden twinkling lights. Then he came back out and stood in front of Maddie, dramatically scratching his head. “Wait, wait, don’t tell me... I’ll remember... You like the rooster.”

  “Yep!”

  Wyatt scooped her up and trotted around the platform until, with great ceremony, he deposited her on the colorful bird.

  “Safety first,” he teased as he snapped the strap around her waist. She grinned, nearly bouncing on the rooster’s wooden saddle in her delight.

  He turned back to Margie, making the same show of searching his memory. “You like the seahorse, don’t you?”

  Maggie bobbed her head up and down in a happy nod. Marilyn found herself deeply touched by how he’d remembered.

  “Up you go!” He set Maggie on the seahorse with great ceremony.

  Marilyn suddenly realized she was next. Not at all ready to be lifted onto her mount by Wyatt, she tried to effect a casual run to the ostrich and jump on. It ended up instead looking like a goofy scramble, one she was sure broadcast her reluctance to let Wyatt get that close.

  He, of course, was unfazed by the display. He strode over to her, holding her gaze for far too long, and then gently snapped the safety strap into place. How he made the simple act so dashing was beyond her. What his eyes did to her breath was beyond her, too. She found herself saying a quick flash of a thankful prayer that both girls’ animals were within sight. He wouldn’t try anything with the girls watching.

  Worse yet, she wasn’t actually sure what she would do if he did.

  As if he’d read her mind, Wyatt winked at her. “Just relax and enjoy the ride,” he said as he slowly turned and stepped back down toward the carousel’s center pillar.

  “Ladies,” he said with all the showmanship of a circus ringmaster, “I give you the fully repaired Wander Canyon Carousel!” With that, he reached into the pillar and threw the lever that brought the ride to life.

  Marilyn felt the mechanism whir to life, her ostrich rising on its pole as the calliope’s happy notes filled the air. The girls’ gleeful shouts and the dance of the lights against the walls felt like pure joy. She clung to the pole, welcoming how happy, dizzy and light she felt.

  Wyatt seemed to move around the ride as if born to it, as if the lights and movement didn’t faze him in the slightest. He stood over each of the two girls’ rides, pointing things out and talking with them as if they were queens on golden chariots.

  She held her breath as he strode around the arc of the platform, leaning in just a bit against the force of the spin. He stopped at the unicorn next to her, planting one foot into a stirrup and hanging on so that he rose and fell in counterbalance beside her. It placed him just close enough to let her feel his presence, but not so close that the hum of panic lingering just under her skin got the chance to take over.

  “Thank you,” he said, leaning toward her as they rose and fell in opposite waves. The dual movement was as exhilarating as it was unnerving. They were only two words, but his eyes said far more. Shouldn’t she be thanking him?

  He’d changed. The constant edge she’d seen in him, the defiance she’d always thought defined him, had softened. Marilyn was already off balance from the rotation of the ride, but it was Wyatt’s eyes that truly made her grip the pole in front of her in order to hold steady. The man’s eyes were breathtaking. Deep and rich and yet bright and gleaming. Filled with all the vibrancy she felt gone from her life.

  Despite the storm still brewing outside these walls, Wyatt seemed to illuminate parts of her she’d consigned to darkness after Landon died. Even before Landon died. Life had been neat and tidy and...well, bland...for so long. Except for the girls, of course. They had always been the beacon pulling her onward, even in grief. Now life was messy and misdirected and confusing, but it felt like life again. Whirling around this glittering space, surrounded by music and laughter and whimsy, Marilyn felt possibilities open up before her. As if there really could be a happy ending despite what any paper chose to print. It was a startling, scary thing.

  Something told her if the girls were not nearby, he might have kissed her. Her. The last person in the world to catch Wyatt Walker’s attention. She was as sure of it as she was reluctant to believe it. Marilyn was grateful for the noise and movement, sure the dazzle of Wyatt’s eyes would overwhelm her in silence.

  He would have kissed her. She knew it. And she would have let him, even kissed him back. Worse yet, his eyes told her he knew what she was thinking.

  Marilyn shut her eyes and gripped the carousel pole as if a hurricane was blowing through. Wasn’t it? Oh, Lord, her heart yelped in prayer, could this really lead anyplace safe?

  * * *

  They ended up going through three cycles of the ride. Nobody wanted it to end. But as the carousel was slowing down the third time, Wyatt knew his resistance was failing. If he so much as took Marilyn’s hand to help her off the ostrich, there’d be no going back. If he touched her even for a second, he would kiss her. Whether it made sense or not, whether the girls were watching or not. And for once in his life he was going to show a little restraint. Make that a whole lot of restraint.

  “Okay, little ladies, all done here. Time to get you back home.” The words out of his mouth sounded so responsible. What was happening to him?

  The twins whined and pouted as he unbuckled them and lifted them from their mounts. “Aw, do we hafta?”

  “I think we’ve taken up enough of Mr. Wyatt’s time today,” Marilyn said as she slipped down from the ostrich.

  That wasn’t true. He had all the time in the world for Marilyn and her daughters. He couldn’t stop thinking about her or the girls. A mom with two kids—how had that happened? He couldn’t figure out how she’d managed to poke her way into his world. She had toppled things he didn’t know how to put back in order. It felt like a tornado had blown through his life.

  Not the least of it was the dyslexia thing. Oh, sure, he’d denied it at first, but he knew she was right. Marilyn had offered an explanation to something that had chased him all his life, and it had sent everything askew. Including his heart. The whole thing was beyond irrational, beyond understanding, and worst of all, beyond his control.

  As he locked up the building and they turned to walk toward where the car was still parked at the church, Wyatt felt Marilyn’s hand slide into his. The simple gesture took his breath away. What was the word Dad always used when he talked about how hard he fell for Pauline? Thunderstruck. He understood now how Dad and Chaz talked about the loves in their lives now.

  Love? Love? It made him crazy how the words seemed to fit what he was feeling.

  There was only one problem—and it was a whopping one. Wyatt knew he was the last person on earth who could give them what they really needed. No dyslexia clouded his ability to see that. Fun was his thing. Commitment and stability were not. Even if he gave in to what he was feeling, it would surely burn out fast. He’d fail them sooner or later, walk away the way he always did when things got tough. They deserved so much better than that.

  The smart move would be to run in the other direction, right now. But he couldn’t. Even as he loaded the girls onto their booster seats in the backseat of his pickup—there were booster seats in the backseat of his pickup truck!—he knew he was powerless to cut them out of his life.

  They reached the Ralton house far too soon. The girls piled out of the car and rushed up to the front door, where Grandma stood waiting. He heard them gush about riding the carousel, but it was mostly noise behind the roar of his own heart and t
he look in Marilyn’s eyes.

  “Thank you for today,” Marilyn said, her expression telling him what he already knew. There were a million things they needed to say to each other, and all of them would have to wait. “For everything. I don’t... I don’t know how I could have gotten through today without you.”

  “I was glad to do it,” he said as he pulled the booster seats out of his truck and set them on the front sidewalk. He was glad to do it, but glad was so far from the full power of what he was feeling.

  “Mari,” Katie said with an unmistakable insistence. “Supper’s almost ready.”

  He cracked a smile as Mari walked him back to the truck. “I think I hear your mother calling,” he joked as he got into the vehicle just to keep the safety of the door between them.

  She laughed. He wanted to capture her laugh and tuck it away someplace. Nothing had ever made him feel like he did when she laughed.

  Marilyn sighed and bit her bottom lip, resting her hands just inside the truck’s open window. “Wyatt...”

  If she said his name like that one more time, he’d lean out the window and kiss her no matter what the consequences. Wyatt put his hand on top of hers. “G’night.” Dumb, but he couldn’t think clearly enough to come up with something better to say.

  “Good night, Wyatt.”

  It took everything he had to put the truck in gear and pull it out of the driveway. The ride home was too silent. The garage was too empty as well when he got there, and his apartment felt blisteringly silent when he opened the door. He was pretty sure the silence and his heart would haunt him all night, and they did.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ron Camden pulled a rusty truck into the garage bay late Monday morning. The engine knocked and rattled as it shut down, the door giving a mighty squeak as Ron climbed out of the cab.

  “I can’t believe you’ve kept that thing running,” Wyatt said. If a vehicle could look as if it were gasping its last breath, this one did. He’d been hopelessly distracted all morning. Maybe this problematic truck would force his attention back to his work.