What She'd Do for Love (14 page)

“Exactly. But I think life is only that easy if you never let anything touch you.” She released her hold on him and stopped. “You remain aloof. Uninvolved.”

“Are you saying you don’t think I would take a risk for anything? For anyone?”

She faced him. “I don’t know. Would you?”

“I suppose that depends on what kind of risk.”

It wasn’t the answer she was looking for. He knew it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “I’m being honest with you,” he said.

“I know you are.” But the disappointment didn’t leave her eyes. She patted his arm again. “Come on, let’s go back to the truck and see how Wayne gets out of his predicament.”

“That’s right,” he said. “In the movies, the heroes always know what to do.” He couldn’t be the kind of rash, reckless hero Christa seemed to want. He was a man who planned his next move carefully, and didn’t take chances unless he was sure of the outcome. But people weren’t always that predictable. He couldn’t be sure about Christa, and that made him less sure of himself.

* * *

C
HRISTA
TRIED
TO
concentrate on the movie, but her thoughts kept drifting to her conversation with Ryder. More than anything, she’d wanted him to tell her he was willing to go out on a limb for the things that were important to him. She wanted to believe he was a man like her grandfather, who would risk everything for the woman he loved.

A romantic notion, maybe even outdated, but that was the kind of man she wanted in her life. Risk was so hard for her, she needed a man who could balance out her hesitancy with a more daring nature. This was one case where she’d hoped Ryder’s opposite traits would complement and mesh with her own.

He slumped beside her, eyes focused on the movie screen, expression guarded. He could talk all he wanted about her resistance to change, but he was just as unwilling to do anything that would unsettle the uncomplicated, unconnected life he’d made for himself.

The screen went black, and then the words “Brief Intermission” appeared. “Must be time to change another reel,” Christa said.

“I could go for some popcorn about now,” Ryder said.

“That sounds good. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay in the truck.” She glanced at her feet. “Walking in these heels is more challenging than I thought.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She watched him walk away, moving effortlessly through the crowd, greeting people he met as if they were old friends. She would have thought a man who adapted so well to new situations would be someone who wasn’t afraid of risk.

A tap on the side of the window interrupted her thoughts. She smiled as she recognized Janet Jepson. “Hey there. Is Kelly with you?” She looked over Janet’s shoulder, expecting to see her friend.

“Actually, I’m on a date.” Her cheeks pinked, making her look years younger.

Christa recovered her surprise. Janet had been a widow for four years now. It wasn’t so odd that she’d want to date. “Anyone I know?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. His name’s Chuck Bailey. He’s part of the crew working on the new highway.”

So Kelly had been right when she’d predicted the highway project would bring eligible men to town. “Are you having a good time?”

Janet tucked a stray lock of her bleached blonde hair behind one ear. “He’s nice. Though I’m not a big fan of Westerns.”

“You should have told him that.”

She made a face. “You young girls would do that, but I come from a generation where we were taught to let the man make all the decisions. It’s the way it was when Steve and I were married and it still feels comfortable.”

Christa remembered Steve Jepson as a portly, smiling man who had sold used cars from a small lot that had since been vacant for the past several years. He hadn’t struck her as a particularly authoritative man but then, who knew what went on behind closed doors?

“Don’t make that disapproving face at me,” Janet said.

Christa hadn’t realized she’d been making any kind of face. “I guess I’m surprised that you wouldn’t want to admit you didn’t like a movie a man had picked out.”

“Tell me—who paid for your tickets tonight?” Janet asked.

Christa flushed. Ryder had opened his wallet and she hadn’t objected.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Janet said. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman who likes a man to take the lead every now and then.” She checked her watch. “I’d better go. I just saw you on the way back from the ladies’ room and thought I’d say hello.”

She left and the message on the screen flashed that intermission would be over in one minute. Christa scanned the crowd for Ryder, confused by her interaction with her friend’s mother. Sure, she wanted a masculine man, but that didn’t mean he had to be her boss.

“Take this so I don’t spill it.” Ryder handed two bags of popcorn through the open window, then opened the driver’s side door and climbed in.

“You should let me reimburse you for this,” Christa said. “And for my ticket.”

“When you land a new job, you can take me out.” He juggled a handful of kernels into his mouth.

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I paid for a date?”

“No. Should it? But I asked you out, so tonight is my treat.” The screen darkened and music blared. Ryder settled into his seat. “Looks like I got back just in time.”

Christa munched popcorn and watched the end of the movie, but the plot barely registered. No wonder her friends complained about how arduous dating had gotten. Instead of worrying about who should pay—or who should take more risks—maybe for now she’d focus on simply having a good time and stop analyzing Ryder for character flaws. Since she wasn’t ready to make a commitment, dating a guy who’d spent a lifetime avoiding permanent relationships might be the best idea she’d had in a while.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“H
OW
WAS
YOUR
date with Christa last night?” Paul Raybourn handed Ryder a cup of coffee, then climbed into the passenger seat of Ryder’s truck. The two friends were headed for a local fishing hole that Paul had promised would be teeming with fish. Though Ryder wondered if Paul hadn’t scheduled the trip for this particular morning in order to get the scoop on Ryder’s date.

“We had a good time. We went to the drive-in.”

“The drive-in?” Paul laughed. “I haven’t been there since high school. Is Mr. Omar still showing those old Westerns?”

“He is. Last night was John Wayne.” He cautiously sipped the hot coffee. “I’d seen it before, though that was years ago.”

“But you wouldn’t have cared what was showing, as long as you got to spend the evening with Christa. So are things heating up between you two?”

Ryder nestled the coffee in the cup holder and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Though he and Christa had parted pleasantly enough—she’d kissed his cheek and thanked him for a fun evening—he’d replayed her words over and over until he finally fell asleep early this morning. “She thinks I’m distant and uninvolved.”

“She said that?”

“Not in so many words.” Though he was sure that’s what she’d meant. “And maybe she’s right. I’ve spent my life never really a part of any place. Rootless.”

“It’s not like you’re some old set-in-his-ways curmudgeon. You can change that.”

“It’s not only a matter of staying in one place.”

“Are you worried you’ll be bored? I’ll admit, small towns aren’t exciting. But you could just as easily settle in the city.”

“That’s not it exactly. I’ve spent so many years learning not to get attached to people and places, I don’t know if I can unlearn that.”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“Maybe.” Except if he tried and failed, he might not be the only one hurt by the experiment.

“What’s the latest on the highway project?” Paul asked. “All this fuss in the legislature about the budget isn’t going to affect you, is it?”

“I’ll admit I haven’t been paying too much attention. What exactly is happening in the legislature?”

“Someone miscalculated and they’ve got a six-billion-dollar shortfall they’ve got to recoup somehow. Apparently, no department or project is safe.”

“We’re already broken ground on the highway, negotiated deals. Stopping the project would cost more in the long run than it would save in the short term.”

“Since when do politicians take the long view?” Paul said. “They’re worried about making an impression on people now, before the next election.”

“Still, I think we’re safe.”

“So, no stress.”

Ryder shook his head. “That’s not my style.”

“Then I envy you.” Paul finished his coffee and put the empty cup in the holder. “But hey, my plan is definitely not to stress about anything today. Wait until you see this place. A beautiful gorgeous lake, shade trees and lots and lot of hungry fish.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You can come to my house tonight for fish dinner. Though I warn you, Alex is cutting his first tooth and tends to be fussy.”

“I don’t mind.” Though truthfully, he’d never spent much time around babies. “Are you sure Didi won’t mind?”

“No. She’s been after me to have you out for dinner. All women are convinced that as soon as single men see their married friends’ blissful lives, they’ll immediately want to settle down themselves.”

“Maybe she’s right.” But Ryder thought it would take more than a home-cooked meal and the company of an infant to convince him he had what it took to change his life so completely. If settling down in one place sounded risky to him, then giving his heart to one woman was downright terrifying.

* * *

“H
OW
WAS
YOUR
date with Ryder last night?” Mom shook out the bedsheet and passed one end to Christa, who stood on the other side of her parents’ king size bed. Jet stood beside Mom, watching the proceedings intently.

“It was fine,” Christa said. She buried her face in the sheet, savoring the aroma of sun-warmed linen. Though Mom had a clothes dryer, she insisted on hanging the linens on a line out back. No fabric softener or fancy linen spray could smell as sweet and fresh. “We went to the drive-in. He’d never been to one before.”

“Your father and I used to go there when we were dating.” Mom spread the sheet over the bed. Christa did the same with her side.

“Bill was probably showing the same films back then,” Christa said. “Last night’s was a John Wayne movie that was a lot older than I am.”

“They’re still good movies. Did you have a nice time?”

“I did. It’s fun seeing everyone. I ran into Janet Jepson. She was on a date with one of the highway workers. She said the strangest thing, though.”

“Oh? What was that?”

“She didn’t like Westerns, but she said she believed in letting the man take the lead and make the decisions, so she hadn’t told him. She said that was how women of her generation believed they should act.”

“I’m the same generation as Janet and I don’t believe that. I don’t think any relationship benefits from one partner always holding back and failing to be honest. Whether or not you like a movie may seem like a very little thing, but all those little things build up over time.”

“I guess you’re right. Everybody has so much advice on how to date, how to find the right person, how to have a good relationship—it’s hard to know what’s right.”

“It’s easier than you think,” Mom said. “Follow your heart and listen to your head. You know better than anyone how you really feel about someone, and you’re smart enough to figure out if this man is the one for you. Focus on what you know, not what you fear.”

“Is that what you did with Dad?”

“I hope so. It was so long ago, I can’t honestly remember.” She smiled. “We fell in love so quickly. Once I moved to Cedar Grove, we spent every spare moment together.”

Christa tucked the sheet in all along the edges of the mattress, meeting her mother at the foot of the bed. “What else did you and Dad do when you were dating?”

“Oh, the usual—dinner, or dancing. The Kiwanis Club had a dance every Friday night and we tried to make them all. We went to the rodeo when it was in town, and once, he took me into Fort Worth for a fancy dinner. Sometimes we just went for a ride.”

“And you were staying with a friend when you two met?” It had been a long time since Christa had heard the story from her mother. She wanted details she might have missed before.

“Yes, I’d come to spend a couple of weeks with Raye Ann Taylor and ended up staying the whole summer. I got a job at the county clerk’s office to earn my keep. By the end of the summer I felt as if I knew everyone in town.”

“You were used to a bigger place.”

“Longview was bigger, but it still wasn’t a city.” She handed Christa the top sheet and they spread it over the bed. Jet wagged his tail. “Cedar Grove was a good fit for me. Or maybe I saw it so favorably because by that time I knew I was in love with your father.”

“Do you think you’d have loved him as much if he’d lived in a big city, or an ugly town?”

“Probably.” She finished tucking in her side of the sheet and straightened.

Christa shook out the blanket—a new blue one she didn’t remember seeing before. “I think a lot about Grandmother,” she said. “Coming all the way from Vietnam, on a promise from a soldier she didn’t see again for weeks.”

“She probably felt she had nothing to lose. Young people often feel that way.”

Was Mom saying that, now that she was older, she realized she had a lot to lose? Christa looked up from smoothing the blanket. “How are you really doing?” she asked. “Are you worried? Scared?”

Mom picked up a pillow and fluffed it. “I thought we were talking about your grandmother.”

“We were, but now I want to know about you. Not what you want me to hear, but the truth.”

She arranged the pillow on the bed, taking her time placing it just so. “Of course I’m worried. Sometimes I’m scared. But mostly, I try not to think about what could happen. I’m going to get through this and be all right.”

“Yes, I believe that, too.” Christa took the pillowcase her mother handed her.

“Something like this changes you, though,” Mom said. “I’m not only missing a breast, I’m missing some of the confidence I had before. That sense of invincibility.”

Losing the job she’d loved felt that way to Christa—though she couldn’t say that to her mother. Compared to cancer, getting laid off seemed like such an insignificant thing. She set the pillow in its place at the head of the bed.

“I’m going to get through this, Christa,” Mom said. “I know it’s hard on you and your dad, seeing me on the bad days, and I’d give anything to change that. But I’m going to get through it.”

“I believe that, Mom. You’re the strongest woman I know.”

Mom laughed. “Maybe the most stubborn, as your father likes to point out.” She turned to the dog. “All right, Jet, your turn.”

Jet barked and leapt into the middle of the bed. He ran first to Christa, and then to Mom, who scratched his ears. “Now that the bed’s made, how about a nap?” Christa asked.

Her mom’s gaze stayed on Christa for a split second. “I think I will lie down for a while.”

“Sleep as long as you like. I can get dinner.”

“I heard about that last dinner of tuna casserole you cooked. Your father was not happy.”

“How am I going to get better if I don’t practice?”

“There’s not much to practice tonight. I already put a lasagna in the refrigerator. All you have to do is put it in the oven at five.”

“I’m sure I can handle that. And maybe I’ll make a salad.”

“Don’t make a big one. You know your father isn’t a fan of lettuce.”

Christa started toward the door, but stopped. “When do you see the doctor again?” she asked.

“Next week.” Mom made a shooing motion. “Now go. Jet and I want to sleep.”

Restless, Christa left the house and walked to the barn, where she found her father. He stood in the middle of the tack room, studying a collection of saddles. Some of them were more than thirty years old, the leather burnished by decades of wear. Some bore the initials of long-ago riders, cowboys who had once worked for the ranch or relatives who had once lived here. One English-style riding saddle had sat in the corner for as long as Christa could remember, though no one ever used it. The others saw duty from time to time, when visitors wanted to ride, or when neighbors came to help during round-ups. “I was thinking I ought to sell some of these old things,” Dad said.

“You don’t think you’ll need them?” She ran a hand over the worn pommel of one of the oldest saddles.

“Nah, they’re just taking up space. Maybe I’ll ask Nate at the feed store if he knows anybody who might want to buy them.”

Christa’s stomach knotted. “What’s with all this downsizing, Dad? Selling off the cattle, not planting as much hay? Are you trying to cut expenses?”

He stiffened. “You don’t need to worry about my finances. Your mom and I are fine. But I’ve been meaning to ask you if you need any money. It can’t be easy for you, with no income coming in.”

“I don’t need any money.” Once more, he’d conveniently deflected the conversation back to her. “I have savings.” Those funds were getting low, but she wouldn’t admit that to him.

“How’s the job hunt going?” he asked. “Have you heard back from that interview you went on?”

“I don’t think I’d want that job, even if they offered it to me,” she said.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think we’d be a good fit.”

Her dad snorted. “What do you care about ‘fit’? A job is a job. You do your work and get paid.”

She could have predicted her father would say this. To him, a job was a means to an end. The few times he’d taken outside work, he’d been focused on supporting the ranch. He never cared about making friends or having a career or advancing to a higher position.

“I’ve been thinking about maybe starting my own business,” she said.

He frowned. “I’d say in this economy, that’s pretty risky. And where are you going to get the money to get started?”

“I wouldn’t need much. And I could get a loan...”

Already, he was shaking his head. Debt was another thing Dad was against, if it could be avoided. “If you go to work for a big company, you’d have a good salary, guaranteed,” he said. “Health insurance, retirement. Those kind of things are worth a lot.”

“I think I’d like being my own boss. Yes, I’d take all the risks, but I’d reap the rewards, too.”

“You’ve only been out of school four years. Why would someone hire you when there are other people out there who have more experience?”

Why, indeed? “I think I could offer things big companies wouldn’t. Personal service. New ideas.”

“I’m not trying to be negative, honey. But you’ve got to consider this carefully. I’d hate to see you set yourself up for failure.”

She was already broke, unemployed and living with her parents, so how much worse could it get? “I’ll be okay, Dad.”

“I’m sure you will, hon.” He returned to contemplating the saddles.

Don’t sell them,
she wanted to say.
Don’t change anything else about the ranch
. She’d had too much change lately.

Ryder would probably remind her that life was all about change. The problem with him was, he was so used to change, she didn’t have faith that he’d ever settle. While all she wanted to do was find a place to grow some roots again—in a home and a job that she wouldn’t have to leave. With people who wouldn’t leave her.

* * *

“T
HEY
’
VE
FAST
-
TRACKED
this section of the new shopping center and, if the weather cooperates, they’re hoping to have it open after the first of the year.” Ryder spread a set of plans on the hood of his truck and pointed to a shaded area along one side of the page. “There’s a natural drainage route through here. We’re laying corrugated culvert, which should take care of diverting water from the roadway and the parking lot.”