Picket Fence Pursuit (3 page)

She sneaked another peek at Ryan.
And yet I’m attracted to him.
Like a bee to honey. A moth to light. A magnet to metal. A poor girl to a loser.

She sighed.

Growing up in a household of eight children with her daddy as a coal miner, Kylie knew the truth of the phrase “feast or famine.” When the coal industry was going well, the Andrewses had lots of food, clothes, and fun. When the industry was down, it was free lunch at school and beans for dinner—every night.

Two of her sisters had already married coal miners. They lived the life she knew all too well. No, she wanted more. This poor girl would have nothing to do with a loser, attraction or not. God had blessed her with a good deal of intelligence and some common sense to boot. Losers were not on her list.

Who ever said being poor made one a loser? “Blessed are the poor. . . .”

Kylie shook the thought away. She would never—could never—consider living a life of poverty.

The waitress stopped at their table. “What can I get you all?” She pulled a pen from behind her ear then dropped it. Ryan reached over, picked it up, and handed it to her. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Ryan folded his menu and then looked at Kylie. A sweet smile warmed his face, and Kylie’s resolve melted. Her palms began to sweat and her heart beat faster.

“Are you ready, miss?”

Kylie looked at the waitress, determined not to think of the adorable scattering of freckles she’d noticed beneath Ryan’s eyes. “Yes.” She cleared her throat and clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. “I’ll have maghetti and speatballs.”

That’s it. No more outings with the redhead.

Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t hear her say what your blood pressure was.”

“That’s because she didn’t.”

“Don’t they always tell you when they take it? Every appointment I’ve ever been to the nurse always tells me my weight, my temperature, my pulse, my blood pressure—”

Gramps huffed and pointed to the chair. “Would you have a seat? You’re raising my blood pressure with all your worrying.”

Ryan sat and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
That man is as mule-headed as a
. . .
as a mule!
“I just worry about you, Gramps.”

“I know, but worrying won’t lower my blood pressure.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair. “You’re right.”

The doctor opened the door, looked at Gramps’s chart, and then checked him. “Well, Mr. Watkins, the new medicine seems to be doing the trick. Your blood pressure is better than mine.”

Ryan sighed in relief.
Thank You, Lord.
The doctor gave Gramps his prescription and left. After Gramps buttoned his shirtsleeve, they walked to the desk, paid the bill, and headed for the car.

“Feel better?” Gramps asked.

“Much.”

“I reckon I do, too.”

Ryan chuckled. Gramps would never admit he’d been concerned as well. Ryan slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled his seat belt.

“I’ll say one thing for sure,” said Gramps.

“What’s that?”

“She sure is a cutie.”

Ryan frowned. “The nurse?”

“No, the blond.”

“What blond?”

“The gals that went to lunch with us. What was the blond’s name?”

“Kylie.”

“Yeah, her. Course the black-haired one was cute, too, but there was something about the blond. What do you think?”

Ryan shrugged. “She’s all right.”

“Just all right?”

“No. She’s beautiful.” Ryan looked out his window. “And there is definitely something special about her.”

❧

“Thanks for taking Robin’s shift. It’s probably going to be a busy day with several schools bringing their students.”

Ryan smiled. “It’s definitely a busy day, but I love watching all these kids. Makes me feel young.”

Kylie chuckled. “Spoken like a man with experience.”

“It’s my fourth year working summers here.”

Four years. Why would any grown man want to work here for four years? A teenager, sure. A college student, sure.
She peeked at Ryan. Though he wore his hair in a younger style, Kylie felt sure he was past college age.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Robin so sick.” Kylie avoided making eye contact with Ryan as she wrapped the apron around her waist.

“I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Just a stomach bug, I think.” She grabbed a rag and wiped off the ice-cream machine. “I was afraid you might have a daytime job that would keep you from being able to cover for her.”

“Nope.” He stepped in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. “This is the only place I work.”

There goes that hope.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan Watkins, from the moment she woke up to the moment she went to bed. She hoped, dreamed, prayed even, that maybe, just maybe, he had a good, solid day job and simply worked at Holiday World in the evenings because he led an otherwise boring and uneventful evening life. She turned toward the counter and began wiping it off.
Yep, one dream right out the window.

It doesn’t matter. I am the decider of my fate.

A soft voice nudged at her heart.
“I thought I was.”

She shook her head. Of course, God was the most important thing in her life. She would follow Him anywhere. She had chosen accounting as a major because He had shown her He wanted her to be there. Her life belonged to Him. She was clay in the Potter’s hands.

Even in poverty?

Grabbing the broom, she squelched the thought.
I’m being silly. God wants only the best for His children. He’s shown me the way, and I’m to follow it. I’m just getting a little freaked out because I’m so close to graduating
—
so close to finally reaching the goals He has set up for me.
“Yes, that’s all that’s wrong,” she whispered.

“What did you say?”

She looked at Ryan. The sun seemed to glisten in his reddish hair. How could she be so attracted to Richie Cunningham, as Robin called him? “I was just mumbling to myself.”

“Oh.” Ryan grabbed the broom from her hand and set it against the wall. “I think you’ve made this place spotless.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “We’re going to be here awhile. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

Okay, I can do this. Small talk. No big deal. In fact, the more I learn about him, the less attractive he’ll become.
She smiled, grabbed a stool from beside one of the machines, and hopped onto it. “I’m an accounting major at the University of Evansville. I only have one semester left. I can hardly wait to graduate.”

“That’s great. What made you decide on accounting?”

“The Lord.”

“The Lord?”

“Yeah, I was taking a Bible study class, asking God what my major should be. I’ve always loved to work with numbers. I’d kind of narrowed it down to accounting or teaching math, and I don’t know how to describe it—I just felt He told me to go into accounting. Probably because I have a better chance financially with an accounting position.”

“I see.”

A perplexed look crossed Ryan’s face, and Kylie wondered what she’d said that confused him. “Where did you go to college?”

“I didn’t.”

Kylie nodded. “I see.”
There you have it. He already looks less attractive. One step down the “Perfect Man” ladder.

“Hey, can we get an ice-cream cone?” A preteen girl with braces on her teeth placed her money on the counter.

“Sure can,” Ryan responded before Kylie had a chance. “What can we get you?”

“I want a chocolate cone.” She looked at the boy a full three inches shorter—her boyfriend, Kylie presumed. “He wants a chocolate and vanilla cone.”

“You got it.” Ryan smiled at Kylie. “I’ll get the swirl if you’ll get the chocolate.”

“No problem.”

They fixed the cones and handed them to the pair.

“Thanks,” the youngsters said in unison and walked away. Kylie watched as the girl grabbed the boy’s free hand.

“So tell me about your Lord.”

“What?” Kylie looked at Ryan.

“You said the Lord led you to accounting. I was just curious about your Lord.”

Kylie frowned. She’d never heard such a statement and wasn’t sure what kind of response he wanted, but she’d tell him the best she could. “Well, I grew up in a large family. We attended church from as far back as I can remember. When I was eight, I felt the Lord drawing me to go forward in church. I asked Jesus into my heart and was baptized the next week.” She looked up at Ryan. He seemed enthralled with every word she spoke. She swallowed as a wave of heat washed over her. “Is that what you mean?”

“Absolutely. I would have loved growing up in a big family. My parents died in a car accident when I was a teenager.
That’s when I moved near Santa Claus to live with Gramps.
I received Christ after that.”

“Where did you live before?”

“Alaska.”

“Alaska?”

“Yeah. My dad had a bit of an adventurer’s heart, and when he and Mom visited Alaska for their honeymoon, he fell in love with the state. I was eleven when I had to move. I still visit sometimes.”

“Do you want to live there again?”

Ryan shook his head. “Not really. Sometimes I get nostalgic about it, but Gramps is all the family I have now, and I want to be near him.”

“It’s good you live so close that you can take him to church.”

Ryan chuckled. “First of all, the man hardly ever lets me take him anywhere. He loves to drive. Second, we live in the same house. So like it or not, and sometimes he does make me crazy, we are definitely close enough to go to church together.”

He’s so poor he has to live with his grandfather. Getting to know each other was the best idea Ryan Watkins ever had.
She smiled up at him. His hair didn’t glisten all that much, and his eyes didn’t seem quite so swimming. Another step down the ladder.

“That teen over there. He’s been lurking around awhile, hasn’t he?” Ryan nodded to the adolescent standing beside a bench. His hair was unkempt and looked dirty. His clothes, worn and torn in places, were worse than his hair. The teen looked in his wallet, then at the ice-cream stand, then back at his wallet.

“I don’t know.” Memories of being sponsored for school trips washed over Kylie. She remembered friends’ parents who’d generously spotted her a few dollars for lunch or snacks. They never seemed to mind, but Kylie had.

“Hey, buddy.” Ryan held an ice-cream cone in one hand and motioned with his free hand for the boy to come to the stand.

The adolescent sauntered over, his face hardened, and his hand tightly clutched his wallet. “What?”

“I’ve got an extra ice-cream cone here. Just wondered if you’d like to have it.”

The teen’s eyes lit for a moment and then clouded. “Don’t need no charity. If I want an ice cream, I’ll buy an ice cream.”

Ryan shook his head. “Ain’t charity, man. I just thought you might like an ice-cream cone.”

“Everyone else has to buy one. Why not me? Sounds an awful lot like charity.”

Kylie tried to swallow the knot that formed in her throat. She knew exactly how the boy felt. She hated charity. Loathed it. How could Ryan do this? The ice cream wasn’t worth it to the teen. He’d rather go without than always be beholden to one person or another.

Ryan leaned against the counter. “I’m not going to lie to you, man. Everyone else does have to pay, but sometimes in life people like to give a little gift to other people. I’m not seeing you as charity. I just simply bought an ice-cream cone.” Ryan grabbed money from his pocket, opened the cash register, and dropped it in. “And I want to give it to you. Now, are you going to take it or not?”