Ever After at Sweetheart Ranch (7 page)

He hung his head. “That's nice, Ms. De Luca, but . . . I don't get science, I never have. And it's just getting worse and worse. Next year in high school . . .”

He trailed off, obviously miserable months before he had to be. He'd told her earlier in the school year that he didn't get math either, but she'd proven him wrong over time. Somehow in his young life, the kid had gotten the idea to just assume he wouldn't be good at learning every new thing that came along.

“Okay, you've got to stop anticipating the worst. You'll have new teachers at Basalt, and I bet you'll find some part of science interesting. We'll start with the science project. Why don't you tell me some of the ideas Mrs. Jorgansen helped you find, and then what you did on each project.”

After about ten minutes, Lyndsay realized that Matias was waiting for something to really strike him, something he could put his whole heart into. She empathized with him. Weren't they all waiting for just the right thing to come along?

“Problem is, Matias,” she said as she leaned away from her computer, “you just can't hope for the perfect thing. You've got to give one of these a chance. Doesn't anything look interesting?”

“I don't know. I do like stuff about food. I probably like to eat too much,” he said, his blush obvious.

“Okay, food. Didn't we see a project about the sense of taste? That has to do with food.”

His dark eyes brightened. “Yeah, that's right. It said ­people taste things differently if they're smelling something else at the same time. So I could get ­people to taste food?”

“And record the results in a chart. You could see if different smells inhibit taste more than others, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, cool. Okay, I'll start making food lists. Can I come back for more help if I need?”

“Of course you can,” she said. Assuming they were done, she pulled out homework to begin grading.

“Oh, Ms. De Luca, did you know that my uncle broke his leg? He won't be able to be the project leader for the 4-­H horse unit.”

Lyndsay frowned. “No, I hadn't heard.”

Matias ducked his head. “I know he meant to call, since you're our school advisor and all. But they had to operate and everything.”

“Wow, sounds very complicated. Did everything go well?”

“Yeah, they had to put pins in to hold it together, and it'll be a while before he's on a horse again, but his boss promises to find other things he can do on the Circle F until he's well.”

“That's kind of Mr. Osborne.”

“But now we need a new leader. Our parents are askin' around. Do you know anyone who might help?”

“I know several cowboys. I'll put the word out. But remember, right now, your science project is more important.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

 

Chapter 6

T
uesday night, Lyndsay was in her kitchen preparing a big salad when she heard her front door open.

“It's us!” Kate called. “Something smells good!”

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” Lyndsay said, drying off her hands as she went into the living room. “Mom's meatballs.” She had her mom's recipe box, and she loved looking at all the handwritten notes.

“Of course!” Kate carried flowers, and Lyndsay sniffed appreciatively.

Tony followed her in and handed Lyndsay a bottle of wine. “Red. You'll like it.”

“You always know what I'll like.”

They grinned at each other.

“I'll just put these in water,” Kate called, making herself at home in the kitchen.

Lyndsay couldn't keep the smile from her face. It was so good to have her best friend back after all these years, and to know that at last her brother was truly happy again. “Where's Dad?”

“He went to get Mrs. Thalberg. They should be here any minute.”

She sighed. “When he asked if she could come, I couldn't say no.”

His eyebrows rose. “You didn't want to invite Dad's lady friend?”

She chuckled at the old-­fashioned term. “Oh, it's not that. I just have something important to tell you guys, and I didn't want it spread all over town.”

“She can keep a secret.”

“I hope so.” She'd certainly kept the Purple Poodles secret. But Lyndsay wasn't about to ask for more details on
that
secret, not tonight.

Kate ducked her head into the room. “Is that why you didn't want Ethan to come? I told my parents it was just adults relaxing tonight, and they agreed to pick him up after lacrosse.”

“Yeah, I especially don't want this spread around the middle school. So thank you. I hope I didn't offend you.”

“Nope, you just made us real curious,” Tony said, taking the wine bottle back and following his fiancée into the kitchen.

Lyndsay finished the salad while Tony decanted the wine. By the time Mario and his date arrived, they were all happily dissecting the many flavors in the wine.

Lyndsay took Mrs. Thalberg's sweater and kissed her on the cheek. “I'm so glad you could join us.”

“I was delighted by the invitation, my dear.”

“I hope the other widows weren't offended.”

“Not at all. They don't expect to go on
all
my dates with your father.”

The two older ­people shared a smile of deep understanding. Lyndsay let them have their moment and turned to pour more wine. Soon they all sat for dinner. Her ranch didn't have a dining room, but the table in the kitchen had plenty of room for the five of them.

While everyone was eating their salads, Lyndsay turned to Mrs. Thalberg. “So, about the historical society presidency . . .”

Several forks dropped to plates. Lyndsay eyed the rest of her family in surprise. Why not get it out in the open?

“I saw that you put posters up around town,” Lyndsay continued.

“Well, I had to, dear, in anticipation of what Eileen might do. And then last night she started handing out lapel pins at the softball game. Quite clever, actually. They're shaped like a little elegant hat, the kind she's never seen without—­I barely remember what her hairstyle looks like—­and on the hat band is spelled out ‘Sweet.' So happy to see that none of you are sporting them.”

“They
are
adorable,” Kate admitted.

“Will dropped some off at the tavern today,” Tony said, after chewing a cucumber slice. “They're cute, but not many ­people picked them up.”

Mrs. Thalberg's eyes brightened. “How good to hear. Thank you. And you plan to keep them?”

Tony stopped eating as everyone regarded him expectantly. “I don't take sides, Mrs. Thalberg—­not until I vote, anyway, and my vote is private. I have a poster of yours up in the window, don't I?”

Mario nodded. “You're a good boy. Thank you.”

“What made you decide to run?” Lyndsay asked Mrs. Thalberg.

“Just like I said at the softball game. My concerns weren't being met. I know you all heard about the display we wanted to do for Eileen's mother, the silent film star. Eileen refused to cooperate and stole the idea for the inn. There were several instances where our museum staff—­all educated specifically in museum work—­had ideas about new exhibits and they were denied or watered down, out of concern someone might be offended. History can't be watered down!” she added forcefully.

Everyone hastily nodded.

“Most recently, I went to the board with my concerns that we shouldn't be expanding the museum by buying the building next door—­we'll have to raise entrance prices to afford the loan, and I'm convinced that will drive customers away. But I was ignored. That was the last straw. It was time for this citizen to step forward and take a stand.”

Mario looked at her fondly, proudly. “I don't blame you one bit, Rosemary. Young ­people should see this kind of example of bravery.”

Well, it wasn't exactly a ruthless political dictatorship she was standing up against, but . . . it was still important to be heard, and Lyndsay thought it was cute of her dad to think Mrs. Thalberg brave.

“I'm sure you'll make a great president,” Lyndsay said.

“I haven't won yet, dear. I do believe Eileen will not give up without a fight. I'll be interested to see what she comes up with for the next softball night. I have ideas of my own . . .”

Lyndsay and her brother exchanged a wary glance.

Kate turned her bright lavender eyes on Lyndsay. “Okay, sorry for the subject change, but you brought us here to make an announcement. I can't wait another moment. What is it?”

At the head of the table, Lyndsay felt all their expectant gazes on her, and she took a deep breath, surprised to feel so excited and nervous and brimming with sheer joy. “I don't talk about it much, but I like to write.”

Mario gave a confused smile. “You used to do it all the time as a girl. I remember you setting up the computer in my workshop just to get away from everybody. But I thought you gave that up after high school.”

“I did for a while in college, but the writing bug never went away. I kept at it, finished a book, got rejections, wrote something else, got rejections—­”

“You sent it out to publishers?” Tony asked, eyes wide. “You wrote this much and you never said anything?”

“I know it's strange, but it was the thing I did for myself. I didn't want the pressure of ­people constantly asking me how it was going, or if I'd submitted. I can't even talk about it much with fellow writers online, I'm that private about it.”

“And?” Kate urged, hands clasped together as if she could no longer eat.

“What kind of stories do you write?” Mrs. Thalberg asked at the same time.

Kate looked disappointed, but she nodded toward the elderly lady as if her questions should come first.

“I write romances, modern-­day cowboys in small Western towns. Kind of what I know,” she admitted sheepishly.

“I love to read those,” Mrs. Thalberg said. “I have such a big collection, my grandchildren finally talked me into an e-­reader. Now I can take loads of books everywhere I go.”

Lyndsay smiled into all their expectant faces. “Well, you're going to get your chance to add mine to your collection. I sold a book.”

Kate screamed so loud that Tony had to plug the ear closest to her. But his grin was wide and excited, and Lyndsay loved seeing her dad gasp out loud.

“A book!” Kate cried, jumping up from the table to hug her. “I knew there was a reason you mentioned your writing last fall.”

“I'm sorry, but I'd newly sold the book then. I just—­just couldn't talk about it, like I'd jinx it or something. I was in such a fog. And then you two were getting back together—­I didn't want to interrupt that, either.”

Tony groaned. “You are an idiot.”

Her dad took her hand across the table. “I'm so proud of you, babes.”

Mrs. Thalberg just beamed at her, hands clasped to her chest.

Lyndsay felt tears prick her eyes, and she sniffed. “Thanks. Would you like to see it?”

“You have a copy?” Kate demanded.

“An advance copy. It's not out yet.” She reached into the towel drawer conveniently nearby, pulled out the book, and held it up.

Kate looked at it in awe. “Your name is so big on the cover.” Her voice trailed off in a squeak, and she had to wipe her eyes.

“Damn, I'm trying to control myself here!” Lyndsay said, her voice shaking.

“Give it here,” Tony said. “That's a nice mountain scene. Is it set here?”

“No, Montana. I didn't want to seem too . . . oh, I don't know, like I was stealing stories from the ­people I know.” No, she was just stealing a man's personality and body—­not that she was going to tell anyone that.

“Your name is so big,” Kate breathed in awe.

“And that's my problem.”

Tony handed the book to Mrs. Thalberg, who turned it over to read the back. “I don't get it, Lynds.”

She sighed. “The thing is, I need to keep this a secret a while longer. I wasn't thinking when I first got the contract—­maybe I should have used a pseudonym, I don't know.”

“But why?” Mario asked. “You're not proud of your name?”

“Oh, Dad, it's nothing like that! A lot of ­people use pseudonyms for privacy. And it's a romance—­there are a few sexy scenes in there.”

“Ooh,” Kate said, taking the book from Mario, who was still looking at Lyndsay expectantly.

“Online, I heard from other teachers who used their real names, and it wasn't a problem,” she explained. “But now that it's real . . . I'm more worried. There are stories of teachers getting fired for ‘moral turpitude' issues because of their books. Not that I think that would happen here. The principal is a good guy. It's too late to worry about a pseudonym, of course, so I'm not second-­guessing, but I've made a decision on how I want to handle it. I'd like to keep this quiet, just between the five of us, until school lets out.”

“That's another month,” Mario said. “I can't brag about you to my friends?”

“I'm sorry, Dad, but I think it's for the best. That way, if the kids and their parents find out after school is over, all the questions and interest should die down by September.”

“Unless you're a
New York Times
best seller,” Mrs. Thalberg said.

“Thank you, but they're not printing enough for that to happen,” Lyndsay said dryly, then chuckled. “But oh, your belief in me is very welcome. I'll be in the big bricks-­and-­mortar bookstores and online, but as for grocery stores and Walmart? Don't hold your breath. They bought copies, I'm told, but it doesn't mean they put them in every store.”

“So Ethan shouldn't know?” Tony asked, frowning.

Lyndsay hesitated. “I'm going to leave that up to you. If you guys think he can keep my secret for the last few weeks of school, then okay.”

Kate and Tony exchanged a long glance.

“I don't know, Tony,” Kate said at last. “It might be a lot of pressure on him.”

“Or he'd be so relaxed, he'd just start talking about it.” Tony sighed. “Okay, we'll keep it to ourselves. He'll want to hear it from Lyndsay anyway.”

“You think?” she said hesitantly. “Will a fourteen-­year-­old boy care about what his aunt does?”

“This humble attitude is getting out of control,” Tony said. “Don't make me come over there . . .”

Kate's expression was morphing from understanding to skeptical curiosity. Lyndsay held her breath, praying she wouldn't ask anything she'd have to lie about.

But Kate only said, “So can I borrow this?”

“Well . . . it's my only copy, and I'm still kind of . . . basking. Can I give you a digital version for your tablet?”

“Sure, that's fine. As long as I can read it right away!”

“I'll wait until I can buy it in the store,” Mario said. “I'll make sure everyone in the Open Book knows you wrote a book.”

Lyndsay gave him a grateful smile and tried to keep tears at bay.

At last they all settled down to eat, asking questions about Lyndsay's process, when she found time to write, how she found her ideas, if she belonged to any writers' groups. It wasn't until she was serving dessert—­brownie sundaes—­that she remembered her other dilemma.

“Tony, I have another favor to ask. I need you to spread word about something among your cowboy friends.”

“Like you don't have any cowboy friends?” he shot back.

“Just wait and hear me out. The middle school 4-­H club is doing a special unit on horses. They had a ranch hand from the Circle F lined up to give them help and demonstrations once a week for the next month. They're going to exhibit posters on it at the Silver Creek Rodeo. But anyway, Mr. Gonzalez broke his leg, requiring major surgery. So he's out. Can you ask any of your customers if they'd be interested in working with my students a ­couple hours a week for a month?”

“You didn't want to just make some calls?”

“I know, but . . . I didn't want to put pressure on anyone to say yes because they know me. Aren't they all anticipating cutting hay in less than a month? I know this is a busy time of year.”

“Yeah, you're right,” Tony said. “I'll see what I can do.”

After dessert, Mario took Mrs. Thalberg home, and Kate and Tony insisted on helping with the cleanup. Lyndsay was telling them about the rejections she'd received over the years, when suddenly Kate put down her towel and faced Tony.

“I can't keep things from you anymore.”

Lyndsay's jaw dropped open, and she stared from one to the other. What was going on? Her brother just waited patiently.