The Tick-Tock Between You and Me

by Kristy Tate

  “And Mom and Dad think he should get a real job.” Sloane made air quotes around the words real job.

  “So, you’re able to write full time?” Chad asked. “That’s impressive.”

  “It’s not that impressive,” Blaine said. “My grandparents left me a trust.”

  “Still, good for you for pursuing your dreams,” Chad said.

  Darby pulled the car through the gate and Chad waved at Paco and Maria working in their yard. Back at the house, Darby parked and everyone climbed out. Chad stuffed his hands into his pockets and watched Sloane and Blaine’s expressions.

  “This place is beautiful.” Blaine looked around with obvious admiration. The sun had become an orange puddle on the horizon and backlit the trees, casting the horses in the pasture to dark silhouettes.

  “Let me show you the chapel.” Darby took her sister’s elbow. “You’re going to love it.”

  Chad’s head still hurt, but he was happy to follow Darby’s lovely backside down the path that led to the chapel.

  “We’ll need to trim the trees and weed the path.” Darby pointed at the foilage.

  They rounded the hill and Blaine froze. Sloane ran for the chapel when she saw it.

  “I love it!” Sloane clapped her hands as she bounded up the stone steps. “Can we go inside?”

  Chad nodded and retrieved the key from the stoup.

  Sloane bounced on her toes as she waited. Chad could barely contain his laughter. He didn’t know what Darby had been so nervous about. He already liked Sloane and Blaine—they were perfect for each other. Sloane was a firecracker, but Blaine with his quirky sense of humor and laid-back attitude balanced her out.

  “Oh, the chapel is too small,” Sloane wailed. “We can’t all fit in here!”

  “We don’t have to,” Blaine said, still standing in the grounds. “We’re going to be married here.”

  “But—”

  “Here!” He pointed at the graveyard where stood surrounded by the crooked tombstones. “In the cemetery! Don’t you see, it’s perfect!”

  “In a cemetery?” Sloane audibly swallowed.

  Blaine nodded slowly while a grin spread across his face. “A horror writer getting married on Halloween in a graveyard…”

  “Oh.” A small sound escaped Sloane. “You want to change the date?”

  “You don’t mind, do you? I mean, we’re already changing the location. We can do it by candlelight at dusk.”

  “That sounds…interesting,” Chad said.

  Blaine held up his hands to make a picture frame and slowly spun, taking everything in. Just then a coyote howled.

  “Ooh,” Blaine breathed out. “Do you think we can get him to do that at our wedding?”

  “Huh, no,” Sloane said, clearly losing patience. She crossed her arms. “Do you still want Father Delany, or should we find a vampire to officiate?”

  Blaine started, then laughed. “You’re joking.” He paused. “We’ll get Kent to record the whole thing.”

  “For our posterity, right?” Sloane’s voice took on a hard edge. “And not because you want to put it on YouTube?”

  Blaine shook himself out of his imagination, wrapped his arms around Sloane, and kissed her temple. She relaxed against him. “It’s going to be so much better than I ever expected,” he said.

  Sloane looked around one last time. “We should really try to go home tonight. There’s no reason to stay, is there? I mean, we love the location, we got the numbers we need from the baker and florist so we can haggle over the phone if we need to…” She looked around, waiting for objections.

  Darby and Blaine both gave disappointed shrugs.

  “Good!” Sloane headed for the car and Blaine followed.

  Chad reached for Darby’s hand and pulled her close. “When will I see you again?” he murmured.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Halloween is just a few weeks away.”

  “I’m not sure I can wait that long,” he said, longing to kiss her, but wondering if Darby was ready to have that conversation with her sister. He decided he didn’t care and lowered his lips to hers. Desire, warm and desperate, swept through him. Reluctantly, he released her.

  Darby climbed in the car, and even before she could shut the door, Sloane demanded, “What happened to Benjamin?”

  Who cares? Chad thought, touching his lips before waving goodbye.

  #

  Darby arrived at the ranch the day before the wedding mostly because she wanted to see Chad again, but also because she needed to mentally prepare the Georges for the onslaught that was her family.

  “What are we doing up here?” Chad asked. He barely fit in the tiny attic storage space. If he stood up straight, he’d hit his head again.

  “We’re looking for things to jazz up the chapel,” Cecelia said, as she poked through the boxes of storage. Her phone buzzed with an incoming call. She went out into the hall to take it.

  “The wedding is just an excuse,” Chad said to Darby. “She wants more merchandise for her online business and she knows if she finds it while we’re up here, we’ll help her haul it downstairs.”

  “Maybe,” Darby said. “But a lot of this stuff is super cool.”

  “You’re super cool,” Chad said, coming toward her and wrapping her in his embrace. He lowered his head for a kiss.

  After a few minutes, he lifted his lips. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know, but I hear it, too,” Darby said, looking over her shoulder. “It sounds like a clock.”

  “I didn’t hear it a minute ago. Did you?” Chad pulled away from her.

  Cecelia came back up the stairs and pocketed her phone. The ticking stopped. Her gaze flicked between their faces. “What?”

  “We thought we heard a clock,” Darby told her.

  “It stopped when you came in the room,” Chad said.

  Cecelia raised her eyebrows but went back to prowling through the boxes.

  “You know, Cecelia, the art teacher at Canterbury is going on maternity leave,” Chad told her. “You should apply.”

  Cecelia lifted her head out of an old steamer trunk. “My online business is keeping me pretty busy, but once I get my website and blog up and running, it won’t require as much time. So, thanks, tell Cole I’ll consider it.”

  Her phone buzzed again. After pulling it from her pocket, Cecelia went back into the hall.

  Chad lifted a questioning eyebrow at Darby and seconds later, she was in his arms.

  The ticking resumed, but this time both Darby and Chad ignored it.

  Cecelia came back in the room. “I know what you’re doing. If you want to kiss, go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.”

  Chad kept his arms around Darby. “You heard her,” he said with a hungry sounding growl.

  “I also heard the clock,” Darby said, “but now I don’t.”

  “Hmm,” Chad murmured. “Sounds like we need to do an experiment.” He pressed his lips to hers and the ticking started again. He broke the kiss and the ticking stopped.

  Cecelia, who had been standing in the middle of the room, sank to the floor. “I heard it, too! So weird!” She attacked the boxes with increased fervor.

  Chad and Darby also began rummaging through the boxes.

  Darby went to the corner where she thought the ticking had come from. She spied an old wooden box with corroded hinges. A couple of cardboard boxes sat on top of it and she pulled them off before sinking to the floor. She tried to open the box, but the latch had rusted shut.

  “Here, let me.” Chad pulled his keys from his pocket and used one of them to pry the latch.

  The key snapped in two.

  “Whoa!” Cecelia bounced to her feet. “Try kissing again!”

  “This is silly,” Darby said, self-conscious.

  Cecelia nudged her. “Go ahead, see what happens.”

  “I guess it can’t hurt.”

  “Huh, thanks?” Chad grinned.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Darby said.

/>   He grabbed her, swept her into a dancer’s swoop, and planted his lips on hers.

  The ticking resumed.

  Cecelia jumped at the box. It was too big and heavy to lift, but she tried anyway. After a few moments of tussling, she pointed at it and breathed heavily. “There’s definitely a clock in there!” She sucked in a deep breath. “Keep kissing! I’ll go get some tools.”

  Darby was happy to oblige and Chad didn’t seem to mind. They kissed to the rhythm of the ticking clock until Cecelia reappeared with a hammer and crowbar.

  “Wait, we don’t want to damage it,” Darby said.

  Cecelia paused.

  Chad took the tools from her hand. “I’ve let you keep and sell everything in the attic without saying anything to Grandpa or Dad, but if there’s a clock in there, it’s mine. Agreed?”

  Chad shot Darby a questioning look. “This is craziness, right?”

  She smiled. “I don’t know. Want to try it again?”

  “Gross, guys,” Cecelia complained. “I don’t want to watch you two make-out.”

  “Why not?” Chad asked. “You seem to spend a lot of time watching the Hallmark Channel. Is this different?”

  “Yes. You’re my brother!”

  “She’s right,” Darby conceded. “It’s definitely not cool to watch your siblings kiss their significant others.”

  “All the more reason for kissing today,” Chad said, “since your siblings will be here tomorrow.”

  Darby looked at Cecelia. “He has a good point.”

  Cecelia left with a huff.

  Chad moved to kiss Darby again, and she stopped him by placing her hand on his chest. “Let’s find that clock.”

  Chad picked up the hammer and crowbar and dropped to his knees.

  Excitement thrummed through Darby. “I know it sounds weird, but I feel like the ticking is trying to tell us something.”

  Chad responded by wedging the crowbar under the box’s lid and popping it open. Inside, lay something wrapped in a swatch of cotton. The once-white fabric was yellowing and faded, the edges frayed.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Darby breathed as Chad carefully removed the wrapping.

  Chad set it on a pile of sturdy boxes and rubbed the case with his shirt. “I think it’s black walnut.”

  “Or cherry wood.” Darby grabbed the edge of the cotton wrapping and used it to clean the glass protecting the clock’s face. After pulling open the door, she touched the cold metal pendulum. It swung a few beats. The clock whirred and chimes sounded.

  “It’s like it’s thanking you for finding it.” Chad climbed to his feet without taking his eyes off the clock.

  “You found it,” Darby said, standing slightly behind him and leaning against his broad back.

  “You helped,” he told her, meeting her gaze.

  “We did it together,” Darby confirmed.

  Chad bent to kiss her and smiled as the clock whirred to life.

  “I wonder how old it is.” Darby pulled away from him to inspect the clock. It felt heavy in her hands. The back lacked the front’s luster and polish, but a set of initials and a date had been carved onto the bottom.

  “The G is probably for George,” Chad said.

  “Let’s ask your grandfather. Here,” she said, handing the clock to him. “You carry it. I don’t want to drop it. It might be incredibly valuable.”

  “We should have it on Antiques Roadshow.”

  For a reason Darby couldn’t explain, the thought made her ill. She didn’t want to share the clock with anyone, even though she knew it didn’t belong to her. It belonged to Chad and the ranch—and she didn’t have a claim on either of them. But the thought of parting with the clock was like a punch to the gut. She reached out to steady herself and grabbed hold of an old floor lamp.

  Chad noticed. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I guess the dust is getting to me.”

  “Let’s go downstairs and talk to Grandpa Bern,” he said.

  They found Bern in the study, and he was delighted by their find. “My grandfather was a watchmaker. I bet he made this!”

  “You’ve never mentioned him before,” Chad said.

  “He died in the London Blitz,” Bern said. “Of course, I was just a kid, living here in California.”

  “So the G doesn’t stand for George?” Darby asked.

  Bern ran his hands over the case. “No, this must have belonged to my mother’s father, Gustave Gunner.” He leaned back in his chair and beamed first at Chad and then Darby. “I’m very pleased. With both of you.”

  And Darby suspected that he was talking about more than the clock.

  A rainbow-colored van rumbled down the driveway and parked with a scrunch of tires on the pavement. Darby peeked out the window to see Floyd Burgess jump out. Despite the cold breeze blowing through the valley, Floyd wore a wife-beater t-shirt, a pair of jean cut-offs and lace-up leather sandals. He caught her gaze, waved, and smiled—although it was hard to see his lips through his fuzzy beard.

  “Who’s that?” Chad asked.

  “Or what is that?” Bern amended.

  Darby sucked in a deep breath. “That is Floyd. He’s the lead singer of my cousin’s band.”

  “Your cousin has a band?” Chad asked.

  “Yep. The Rabid Rabbits.” Darby refused to apologize for her cousin’s band but felt someone probably should. “They wanted to come early to check out the electrical situation for the lighting and sound equipment. That’s not a problem, right?”

  “I’m not sure,” Bern said slowly.

  “Me neither,” Darby said with a shrug. “But I better go and see if I can help anyway.”

  Darby loved her cousin Doug, but she had to admit he was probably the black sheep of the Elliot family, if they had such a thing. Now, as she watched him climb from the van with his sleepy eyes and mussed up hair, she tried not to picture him as the little kid she used to babysit. He was only about five years younger than her, but it was enough for her to have loved dressing him up and carrying him around when he was a baby. Until he’d grown too heavy. Now, she wrapped her arms around his enormous waist, and he dropped a kiss on her head.

  “Thanks for doing this,” Darby said.

  Doug passed her into Floyd’s arms and before she knew it, she was being shuffled from one hugging Rabid Rabbit to the next.

  “Anything for you,” Floyd said.

  “And Sloane,” Darby added. “This is really for Sloane.”

  Floyd lifted a shoulder as if to shrug Sloane away.

  Chad stepped in to shake everyone’s hand. “Let me show you guys where we’re holding the ceremony. We don’t have electricity in the chapel, but we do in the stables. We could run a few cords.” He led the way, but Floyd hung back with Darby.

  “How you doing?” he asked.

  “Good, how are you?” Darby moved to follow the others but Floyd stopped her.

  “Good, real good.” He rocked back on his heels. “I don’t know if you heard about our record deal.” He eyed her.

  “No.” Darby sought out her cousin’s retreating back. He had been such a sweet little kid. She knew his mom worried about him and the rest of the Rabid Rabbits.

  “I’d like to talk to you about it sometime—you having a head for business and all.”

  “Um, sure.”

  “The contract!” He flew a hand over his head and made a zooming sound. “Had to get a lawyer to help me figure that one!”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Atlantic Records.” He nodded. “As serious as a rug burn.”

  She’d never considered rug burns too serious, but Atlantic Records?

  “You interested?” He slanted her a glance.

  “In looking at your accounts? Sure.”

  He stepped closer. “That, and other things.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Darby stepped back. Her shoe hit a rock and she bobbled.

  Floyd grabbed her elbow, grinned, and pulled her close.

  She flinched
away. “I’m flattered, really, but—”

  “Think about it,” he said. He blew her a kiss and walked off with a swagger.

  My grandfather said that of those he could hire,

  Not a servant so faithful he found;

  CHAPTER 10

  A white truck with the words Jackson’s Landscaping pulled down the drive. Darby waved him down. The florist jumped out. He looked a lot more presentable—and friendlier—than the last time she saw him.

  “Brad Jackson,” he said, shaking her hand.

  “Darby Elliot,” she reintroduced herself. “You talked to my sister a couple of weeks ago. Thanks for being willing to pull this together on such short notice.”

  He nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Actually, I’ve been dying to get out here. I heard that about half this ranch is zoned for agriculture.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And, I believe, it’s not being used.”

  “Right again.”

  “Do you think I could see it?”

  “I’m not the person to ask,” she said softly.

  “Maybe we could just walk around…” He let his words trail off suggestively.

  Darby grinned. “Sure. I don’t see how that could hurt.”

  #

  The Rabid Rabbits trailed after Chad, making him feel like the Pied Piper. He took them to the stables and showed them where the electrical outlets were. “Any questions?”

  “Yeah. Are you doing Darby?” the only one without a ring in his nostril asked.

  Chad tried to remember whether or not this was the one Darby had introduced as her cousin. He cleared his throat. “I don’t see what that has to do with the electrical outlets.”

  The Rabid Rabbit folded his arms across his scrawny chest and glared at Chad. “Just tell us.”

  “It’s a reasonable request,” the one with the man-bun quipped.

  All the Rabid Rabbit nodded as if they agreed.

  Chad thought back to Darby’s comments about her brothers. One on one she thought he could take them on, but honestly—did she want him wrestling her brothers? And how would she feel about a brawl with her cousin and his gang?

  Fortunately, Darby and Jackson rounded the corner. Chad blew out a breath in relief.