“You’re going to regret this.”
“Make me regret it all you like. I’m young, and I can handle it. But don’t make the mistake of retaliating against my grandfather. That, too, is against the law.”
Patricia pivoted on the heel of her sturdy black pump and started to walk away. Crystal decided to lob a parting shot. “Oh, I almost forgot. Tomorrow I’ll be bringing Tuck’s dog to see him. He’ll be leashed in all community areas, and I’ll hurry him into Tuck’s apartment. Tuck has a prescription from the physician for daily visits.”
Patricia’s shoes skidded on the slick tile as she braked to a stop. She turned and fixed Crystal with a fiery gaze. “As I said, I’m going to call the legal team. We shall see, Ms. Malloy. We shall see.”
Crystal wagged her fingertips at the woman in farewell. “Yes, we shall. It may be pertinent for me to mention at this point that I’ve been going over Tuck’s charges here. Twenty-five dollars for a tiny packet of cotton swabs strikes me as being exorbitant. Nineteen ninety-nine for a twelve count of Band-Aids also seems abnormally high. I’m wondering who gets that profit. Need I say more?”
Patricia’s high color drained by several hues. She pivoted and hurried away.
Tanner, still standing beside her, said, “I thought she might try to deck you.”
“Oh, well—thank you for staying close to protect me.”
He emitted a low laugh. “Actually, I felt pretty confident that you could take her on. Good job, Crystal. She’s rather scary.”
As praise went, it wasn’t too flowery. But Crystal felt proud of herself anyway. She hadn’t let Tuck down this time, and now she knew Marsha was right. Patricia Flintlock was overcharging these elderly people to skim money from the government.
* * *
“Pabst Blue Ribbon!” Tuck shouted when he saw the beer. “I’m surprised you remember, Crystal. That it’s my favorite, I mean.” He struggled up from his recliner and limped toward the kitchen. Laying his fingers against a can, he said in a softer, almost prayerful tone, “And it’s cold. I gotta call Burt.”
Crystal smiled. “I take it Burt enjoys having a cold one.”
“What workin’ man don’t?” Tuck greeted Tanner and shook his hand. “Aren’t you already in enough trouble?”
Tanner chuckled. “It’s fine. I’m off the clock and driving my own pickup.”
Tuck pulled his cell phone from his shirt pocket, punched in a number, and a second later said, “Burt, this is Tuck. I got cold beer. Come on over. Bring a friend if you want.”
* * *
The Mystic Creek Park lay in deepening shadow, with tall pine trees throwing dark outlines over the freshly mown grass. The smell of recently shorn blades rising from the sun-warmed earth held promise of summer days to come. Crystal and Tanner sat at a weathered wood picnic table with white sacks anchored down with take-out cartons. They’d gone for simple and ordered hamburgers and fries. Tanner had stopped at Flagg’s Market again to grab a bottle of wine. On his belt he carried an all-purpose tool that he’d thought featured a corkscrew, but it didn’t, so he’d dug the cork out with a tiny knife. They’d poured their vino into waxed soda cups and now sipped around bobbing bits of bottle stopper.
Enjoying the cool breeze but grateful for the shawl Tanner had suggested she bring, Crystal couldn’t remember a time when she’d enjoyed an evening with a man so much. Tanner had an easy, relaxed way about him. Maybe it came from being a single dad. He had learned to take everything in stride, could make the most of a moment, and didn’t seem too hooked on everything being perfect.
And yet it was.
He took a huge bite of his burger, pocketed it in his cheek, and said, “What? You’re looking at me funny.”
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking how down-to-earth you are.”
“Oh.” He swallowed. “Sorry. I know this isn’t the kind of dinner date most women imagine.”
“No! It is, Tanner. Lots of men get it all wrong. Wine her, dine her, impress her. It gets so boring. All that tension? I dislike dating because of it. It gives me a nervous stomach. Men trying so hard, and me feeling bad when I know right away he isn’t my type. Him blowing money he can’t afford and refusing to let me help pay. I want to say, ‘Can you just be you? Can you stop trying to be suave and talk about something real?’”
He laughed. “Here’s real. I’m worried about Michael. He’s staying all night with a friend. Other boys are there. The parents are supposedly supervising. But are they? He’s eleven, almost twelve. He constantly reminds me of that almost. He’s trying to tell me he’s almost a teenager, and that I’m way too strict.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin he kept tucked in his fist to keep it from blowing away. “But he isn’t grown up yet. He’s still only a boy. I worry. So many kids get messed up at his age.”
Crystal understood. Most of the kids she saw in her salon were growing up surrounded by small-town wholesomeness, but there were a few who seemed to have taken a wrong turn. A good deal larger than Mystic Creek, Crystal Falls was still a small community, though. The people there were community minded, cared about their neighbors, and offered the youth plenty of checks and balances. “I think the most important thing is to provide Michael with a loving home environment and sterling values. If he makes a mistake, he’ll know you’re there to help him.”
He nodded. “He’s a good kid. Pulls good grades. Respectful. I don’t really think he’ll ever do anything nuts, but I accept that it could happen. I try to spend a lot of time with him, keep him active in sports, and be a good parent at night. You know. Talking over dinner. Helping with homework. Family time after that. Listening to him when he talks. But it’s scary. Parents have such a small percentage of a day to be with their children. Teachers and other kids are influencing them most of the time.”
“True, but you’re the one who taught him values. I think that sticks. As a teenager, I’d start to do something I knew I shouldn’t, and I’d hear Tuck’s voice whisper inside my head.” She smiled. “I didn’t always listen, but my relationship with my grandfather kept me mostly out of trouble.”
A grin creased his cheek. “You’re right. No matter where Michael goes, he’ll have a little bit of home with him. Thanks for the reminder. I feel better. On to lighter topics. I didn’t mean to go all serious on you.”
“I don’t mind serious, and I enjoy conversations that aren’t predictable.”
Crystal peered into her wine, saw a tiny bug, and fished it out with her finger. Watching her, Tanner said, “You deserve a better night out than this.”
“I suggested the park, and there’s no such thing as better than this. At least not for me. I grew up in simple surroundings.” She rubbed the bug off her fingertip onto the rough table plank. “I spent my girlhood on a ranch. People tend to glamorize ranch life if they’ve never lived on one. A ranch does have pastoral views. Tuck’s house was really nice. He made sure my wardrobe was as good as any other girl’s. But there’s another side to ranching that’s far from glamorous. In spring the mud was ankle-deep, and it was commonplace to have calves in our bathroom, which served as a steam room for babies with pneumonia. In the summer, do you think bugs never got in the milk as I carried it from the barn to the house? Tuck always said, ‘Just some added protein,’ and plucked them out.” She took a sip of her wine and smiled at him. “And hello. That bug in my wine died happy.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “I like you. You’re refreshing.”
“I like you, too.” And as she said that, Crystal feared she might like him too much.
After eating their dinner and stowing their trash, they walked onto the natural bridge. It was a huge archway of rock, tunneled by rushing water over the centuries. A sense of timelessness settled over Crystal. How many people had fallen in love with each other standing right where she and Tanner stood now?
“I don’t suppose you’ve hear
d the legend about this place.”
He shook his head.
“There are several different slants, all on a similar theme. When two people stand together along Mystic Creek, they are destined to fall in love.”
He shuffled his feet as if to run for his life, which made her laugh. “We could still take in a film,” he suggested.
“Or just enjoy a lovely evening walk along the creek.”
He took her by the hand, adjusted his stride to match hers, and said, “Deer.”
Crystal scanned the area. On the far side of the stream, she saw a doe with a brand-new spotted fawn. “Oh, how beautiful is that?”
She glanced up and realized Tanner was gazing straight at her. “Pretty damned beautiful.”
Chapter Nine
Essie stopped at the front desk to ask Sedona, the gum-chewing blonde, if she could have Tuck’s apartment number. The girl glanced at a chart and said, “Twenty-three. But if Flintlock asks, you never got it from me.” She resumed doodling on a notepad.
“No worries.” Smiling, Essie made her way down the hall and tapped on Tuck’s door before she heard voices coming from inside. He had a guest, and she was interrupting. For all she knew, it could have been another woman. He was so damned handsome. She considered running but doubted her rickety knees were up to the task.
He opened the door. His craggy face creased in a broad grin. “Essie! Come in. We’re playin’ poker. I was about to deal another hand.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interruptin’. Come join us.”
He closed the door behind her and turned the lock. In a conspiratorial voice, he said, “To keep the wardens out. Burt and I are havin’ a beer.”
So that was his name. Essie had seen Burt from a distance as he stood along the creek angling for trout. He pushed up from the drop-leaf table, grinned at her, and stretched out a hand as Tuck made the introductions. “Now it’s going to get interesting. Three players keep the cards flowing better.”
Essie saw only two chairs, and she truly didn’t wish to interrupt them. But Tuck insisted on making her a glass of his special iced tea, Burt went to the community area to borrow a third chair, and before Essie knew quite how it happened, she was holding four aces.
“Sorry, gentlemen. Let this be a lesson to you both. Never invite an old cardsharp like me to play poker with you.” She pushed a pile of chips to the center of the table. They weren’t playing for money. Tuck said he needed to get rolls of pennies from the bank first so everyone could afford to buy in. “Call or fold.”
She caught Tuck studying her face. She got the feeling those blue eyes probed every nuance of her expression. Fortunately, she wasn’t bluffing, and she sensed that he knew it. “I fold,” he said.
Burt followed his lead, and Essie showed her cards. Both men burst out laughing.
The next time she glanced at her watch, two hours had passed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such fun. They’d talked and laughed and bluffed as if they’d played together for years. Burt got up to leave, enveloped her hand in his big paw, and told her he hoped she’d come back and play again.
Tuck insisted on walking her back to her apartment. She knew it wasn’t because he was worried she’d get lost or set upon, but it gave her a good feeling. She wasn’t used to feeling protected. Jake had been gone so long it seemed like a lifetime. Tuck dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek outside her door.
Lifting his head, he said, “You think she sits in her office and watches all of us on camera?”
She rested her shoulder blades against the wood panel and smiled up at him. “I’m sure they have surveillance in all the common areas.”
“Just bothers me to think someone can watch us kiss.”
Essie toyed with his shirt buttons. “There are no cameras in our apartments.”
“True, an’ I’ll keep that in mind for later.”
Though she knew it was bold, Essie asked, “How much later?”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ll leave that for you to decide.”
Before entering her residence, Essie watched him walk away. Then she went inside and kicked off her pumps, pleased that her feet still didn’t pain her when she went barefoot. No matter how old she grew, the young girl she’d once been still dwelled within her, and during her youth, wearing her one pair of shoes all the time had made them wear out faster. She still liked to go without footwear. It took her back in time, reminded her where she’d come from, and kept her humble.
Without turning on a light, she sat in her recliner and stared into the shadows of the living room. She’d never expected to fall in love again so late in life. But she was enchanted by Tucker Malloy. Funny, that. He was nothing like Jake, whom she’d once loved with every fiber of her being. Suave, sophisticated, and wealthy, Jake had shown her the world of the rich, yet he’d never lightened his grip on the harsh realities of poverty, which he’d experienced as a boy. They’d been a good match, she and Jake, each of them wanting to carve their own niche in the upper echelons of society. But they’d never lost touch with where they’d come from. They had understood each other—and admired each other. After Jake died, she figured that was it for her. A woman only met so many men who were perfect for her.
But now she’d stumbled upon Tuck. He was a diamond in the rough, and at this stage of his life, no amount of grinding and polishing would ever change him. His lack of secondary education was audible in his speech. The rigors of his profession, pitting himself against cattle and the elements on a daily basis, had been carved on every plane of his face. But he was a good man with a sincerity about him that charmed her—and seduced her. She doubted she’d ever meet another man who spoke to her on so many levels.
So what am I waiting for? At her age, leaping into a relationship was easy. Her assets were protected. It wasn’t necessary for her to find a man who’d be a wonderful father or pass on good genetics to her children. She had no need of someone accomplished in ballroom dancing or the social graces. All she wanted now was someone she could talk to, someone who could make her laugh, someone who made her feel desirable again. Was any woman ever so old that she no longer cared about being beautiful? Or too old to yearn to feel strong arms around her and experience physical pleasure?
Sighing, Essie stood to get herself a glass of water with psyllium powder mixed in. As she sat back down to drink it in the shadows, she thought of Tuck again and decided her use of fiber to stay regular should remain her secret. He might dump her if she started mentioning stuff like that. As she drank toward the bottom of the glass, she decided to give their relationship some time before she told him she was ready for intimacy. But not too much time. The clock was ticking. They had a finite number of tomorrows awaiting them, and if things proved to be delightful between them, she would regret every single day she wasted.
* * *
Sunday evenings were Crystal’s favorite time. The salon was closed and she could relax without feeling guilty or jumping whenever her phone rang. It was her day, whether she spent it in a rush of activity or, more rarely, just doing nothing. At day’s end, she could enjoy a long, hot bath. Lounge on the couch afterward in her nightclothes. Sometimes she would read. Other times she would watch something on television. She never knew exactly what Sunday might bring, and for her the lack of structure was just what she needed to regroup. And the evening—well, that was her reward of the week.
So what was she doing out here in the dark, driving the roads to look for a stupid dog? This was her night, damn it. “Well, guess what, Rip. Searching for you is getting old.”
She pulled over to turn around, remembering the tears she’d seen in her grandfather’s eyes earlier that day when he’d finally gotten to see his dog after such a long separation. Her heart squeezed and she felt awful for even thinking about going home. If something happened to R
ip, Tuck would mourn until he died.
Her cell phone rang. As she dug through her purse, she said, “Please be a neighbor who’s seen him. Please, please, please.” Instead she saw Tanner’s name on the screen. After their date last night, she’d added him as a contact. “Hello.”
“Uh-oh, you sound stressed. That’s not good on a Sunday evening.”
His voice curled around her, and she smiled. “Rip’s gone again.”
“And you’re out looking for him.”
“Yes. Darned dog. He’s blowing my one night a week that I set aside for relaxation. I wish I could just not care. But Tuck loves him.”
“And so do you. Grudgingly, maybe, but you do.”
“No. I’m not a pet person.” She winced at how heartless that made her sound. “I mean, well, I like animals. I think they’re cute, and I understand how important having a pet is to a lot of people. It’s just never worked out well for me, and I finally gave up on the idea.”
“I get it. You work long hours, too, just like me. It’s hard to do justice to a pet when you’re gone all the time.”
Crystal was glad she’d talked her way out of that one. Then she wondered why it mattered. She was attracted to Tanner. She figured most women would have been. If their relationship progressed and they eventually made love, she felt certain she would enjoy being with him. But she had a feeling Tanner was looking for a lasting relationship—and she wasn’t. Not now, not ever.
“So . . . how was your Sunday?” she asked.
“Busy. I took the kids for a bike ride. Tossed a ball with Michael. Helped Tori decorate her dollhouse. Cooked three times. Cleaned the kitchen three times. Did laundry. Vacuumed and dusted. I never got around to mopping. It’ll keep until one night next week.”
Her mouth curved in a smile. “Good grief. Just listening makes me tired.”
“I called just to say hi. I wanted to hear your voice.”
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