A Love Like Ours Page 7

“Just kill me now, Celia. I’d die happy.”

  Thanks to four years of friendship with Meg Porter, Amber had come to know the entire Porter family. Bo and Jake, of course. But also their sister, Dru, only twenty-two and recently back from serving in the Marines. And their brother Ty, a former professional bull rider. Ty had reconfirmed his wedding vows to Celia about a year and a half ago in a big, happy ceremony. In addition to baby Hudson, Ty and Celia had a six-and-a-half-year-old daughter named Addie.

  Amber ordered the cake, a shamrock cookie to take home for Jayden, and a cup of coffee. Celia rang her up while balancing the baby on her hip.

  “I was hoping to talk to your uncle,” Amber said. “Do you think he’ll be coming by?” Danny, Celia’s surfer dude uncle, rarely missed his daily twelve-thirty latte.

  “He should be here any minute.”

  Amber lowered onto one of the padded barstools that cozied up to the countertop. “I’m planning to ask him for dating advice.”

  Celia threw her an amused look as she used a triangular spatula to serve a slice of cake. “He’ll enjoy that.”

  “I need his input. Have you met Lyndie James?”

  “I have. Her family joined us for a few of the Porter family lunches.”

  “She’s my upstairs neighbor at the Old Candy Shoppe.”

  “How lucky is that? Lyndie will make a great neighbor for you, just like you will for her.” Celia settled the cake and an antique china cup full of coffee in front of Amber.

  “Lyndie and I have agreed that we’re each going to go out on three dates over the next three months.”

  “Interesting.”

  Amber pretty much felt that if someone did kill her while she had this bite of flourless chocolate cake in her mouth, she would die happy. She made herself chew and swallow slowly so that she could enjoy it longer.

  A group of lady friends entered the shop, and Celia went to wait on them. Amber watched little Hudson wrap his hand trustingly into the collar of his mom’s shirt.

  Hudson always reminded Amber of Jayden as a baby. Unfortunately, her memories of Jayden at that age were always chased with regret. She’d been young and immature and alone when she’d had Jayden. The first eighteen months of his life had been a nightmare.

  When other girls her age had been enjoying their senior years in college, she’d been struggling to earn enough money to feed Jayden and to keep them from getting evicted from their apartment. Whenever she thought about those days now, she did so with a heavy heart, wishing she could have given Jayden a better beginning.

  The lady friends had situated themselves at a table, so Celia returned to stand on the other side of the counter from Amber.

  “This cake is delicious,” Amber informed her.

  “Thank you.”

  It reminded Amber of a Charles M. Schulz quote: All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.

  “Tell me more about the dating thing,” Celia said.

  “Basically, Lyndie and I need help. I’m not sure how to find men for us to go out with.”

  “Hmm . . . Let me think who I might know.” Celia held the baby out, grinned at him, then brought him close to kiss him under his chin. He giggled. “How many eligible single men do we know, Hudson?” She brought him back out, then in again. “Oh.” Celia lifted her head and stared at Amber. “I just thought of someone.”

  “For me or for Lyndie?”

  “For you, I’m thinking.”

  Amber set down her fork. “Who?”

  “Will McGrath. Have you met him?”

  “Nope.”

  “He’s older than you are. What’s your upper age limit?”

  “Um, I don’t know. Maybe thirty-seven? Ten years older than me?”

  Celia clicked her tongue, thinking. “I’m not sure, but he may be a few years past thirty-seven.”

  “Is he even somewhat good-looking?”

  “He’s a fireman. Actually, he’s a captain in the fire department. He’s tall and ruggedly handsome.”

  “Suddenly I’m not so concerned about his age.”

  Ty Porter rounded the corner from the kitchen into the bakery. “Who is my wife calling tall and ruggedly handsome?”

  “Will McGrath,” Celia said.

  A blush rose up Amber’s neck. Ty Porter was so crazy good-looking that he always made her self-conscious. Like the sun, she found it hard to look directly at him.

  Ty exchanged greetings with Amber, then faced his wife and son. Baby Hudson squealed with happiness and stretched both arms toward his father, who scooped him against his chest. “Will’s not taller or more handsome than I am, sweet one.” He gave Celia his most irresistible smile. Oh, the flash of white teeth. The dimples!

  “He’s twice as tall and handsome as you, showboat.”

  Ty lifted an eyebrow. “He’s twice as tall?”

  “Twice.”

  “Whatever you say.” He tugged Celia close to kiss her temple. “Did you hear that, Amber? I’ve learned the three magic words every husband needs to know in order to have a happy marriage: Whatever. You. Say.”

  Amber laughed. Ty was so famously wild about Celia that he’d bought this bakery for her, then gutted the second floor and built “his and hers” offices for the two of them just so that he could be close to her.

  “Ty,” Amber said, working herself up to speak a full sentence to him, “Jeannie had an appointment with Dr. Dean last week. She raved about the great job you’ve done with her mom’s financial portfolio.” Ty’s investing smarts had become a point of pride for the whole town.

  “Shoot, Amber. I’m not sure you should believe Jeannie. I wouldn’t know a financial portfolio from a modeling portfolio.”

  “He’s so falsely humble,” Celia said to Amber, laughter in her voice, “that he’s actually vain.”

  Just then, Cream or Sugar’s front door sailed open, admitting Celia’s Uncle Danny. “What’s up?” He raised a hand to everyone in the place and several of the bakery’s faithful greeted him in return. Grizzled, tan, and pushing the age of sixty, Danny was beloved by everyone in Holley, Texas.

  “Huddie Potuddie!” Danny said to the baby, leaning over the counter to offer his fist. “You cool?”

  Ty encouraged Hudson’s fingers to close into a ball, then helped him return Danny’s fist bump. “He’s cool,” Ty supplied.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Celia said to Danny. “Amber was hoping to ask you for some dating advice.”

  “Sweet.” Danny took the stool two down from Amber’s and turned his full attention on her. “I’d be happy to help you out, Amber.”

  “Let me get you some cake, Danny,” Celia said, “then Ty and I will leave you two to talk.”

  “Good,” Ty told Celia, “because I have something I want to ask you about in the, um, pantry.”

  It sounded to Amber like Ty wanted to kiss Celia in the pantry. But then it had been years since she’d spoken in code to anyone about kissing, so maybe not.

  Ty disappeared with the baby. Celia brought Danny cake and a latte.

  “Just so you know, Celia, I’m definitely interested in the fireman,” Amber said, wanting to make herself clear before Celia dashed off.

  “Will comes in once a week or so for coffee and the occasional donut right after he drops his girls off at school.”

  “He has daughters?”

  “Two. They’re in high school. Is that a deal breaker?”

  He was a tall and ruggedly handsome fireman. “No.”

  “Next time he comes in, I’ll text you.” She nudged a notepad in Amber’s direction. “Jot down your number.”

  Amber scribbled it across the page. “I’ll do my best to get here when I hear from you.”

  “Perfect. It’ll seem to Will like a happy coincidence. I’ll introduce you two, and once he leaves you can tell me what you think.”

  “I have pantry questions!” Ty called from the kitchen.

  Celia winked at them and headed back.

&nb
sp; Over cake, Amber explained to Danny about the three-date goal she and Lyndie had set for themselves.

  Danny listened, nodding as seriously as a United Nations peace negotiator. As always, he’d dressed in the surfer wear of board shorts and flip-flops. Today, he’d topped them with a faded In-N-Out Burger T-shirt.

  “I think it’s great, what you girls are doing,” he said. “It’s always good to work the scene, you know? To inspire yourself to get out there on the market and meet new people. Had you heard that I have a girlfriend now? Oksana Shevchenko?”

  “Yes, I’d heard.” Holley operated on gossip the way cars operated on gas. “Congratulations.”

  “She’s a widow with married kids. Not much of a surfer or a mountain biker, but really supportive, you know?”

  “That’s great.”

  “Just goes to show that there’s someone for everyone, even in a small town.”

  “Hear, hear!” Amber raised her china cup, and he clinked his against it.

  “Fellowship Church is having a meet-up event for young singles soon.” He paused to sip his latte, then returned it to its saucer. “I think I read that there’d be dancing.”

  “I love to dance.”

  “Then be sure to go to the church’s website and sign yourself and Lyndie up.”

  “Will do.”

  “I must still be a member of five different local dating groups. I’ll let you know whenever I see a good mixer on the schedule.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate the help.”

  “There’s someone for everyone, Amber.” His face crinkled into a smile.

  For the first time in a long time, hope for her dating life began to push upward within Amber like a new flower making its way past the dirt. “There’s someone for everyone.”

  Maybe, God willing, even for her.

  The next afternoon Jake walked the row of the training barn, troubled. He’d been driving past the training barn just now, on his way to work with his yearlings, when he’d spotted Lyndie’s Jeep parked out front. Irritation had caused him to pull his truck into the lot.

  More than two hours had passed since she’d finished exercising his horses. She should be at her apartment by now, dry and warm. Instead she was still here, in a cold barn on a rainy day, so that she could spend more time with Silver Leaf.

  Enough already. If she didn’t have the sense to go home, then he was going to have to force her.

  When she’d asked him if she could remain at the barn with Silver Leaf after work hours, he’d thought it would be a short-term thing. Instead, she’d proven her determination and stubbornness by sticking around every day for more than a week. March was about to turn into April, and still she spent hours sitting in Silver Leaf’s stall.

  It was bad enough that Jake had to watch her exercising his horses each morning. The whole time she was out on the track, worry clawed at him. And deep beneath the worry, anger.

  Since he couldn’t understand or explain the anger, even to himself, he focused on trying to talk himself out of the ridiculous worry. She was one of the most qualified riders he employed. His horses were all well-trained.

  On the other hand, Thoroughbreds ran at speeds of up to forty miles per hour. Just three months ago an exercise rider had been killed at Saratoga when he’d fallen and his foot had caught in a stirrup. The horse had dragged the rider, hitting him in the head and chest with his hooves. He couldn’t escape his fear that what had happened at Saratoga could happen to Lyndie.

  Jake stopped at Silver Leaf’s stall. The horse had his head down, chewing hay. It took Jake a moment to spot Lyndie’s small form in the dim space. She sat to one side, her back against the wall, her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around them. She must have heard him coming because she was already gazing up at him. Her lips tipped into a gentle smile.

  For a long moment Jake stared at her. Foolish woman, sitting in a horse stall for hours every day. Even more frustrating, looking at him as if she liked him and trusted him. Looking at him as if she believed he was worthy of her friendship and trust. Raw pain gathered in his chest. “I saw your car,” he said.

  “I’m still trying to get to know Silver Leaf. I’m learning a lot, but I don’t yet understand him.”

  “I never said that I expected you to make him into a runner.” The words came out more harshly than he’d planned. “I don’t think anyone can.”

  “I think that I can.” She spoke quietly but with confidence. “I hope that I can.”

  “I hired you to exercise him and that’s it.”

  “I know.”

  “Go home, Lyndie. It’s too cold for you here.” A front had moved through late this morning. The rain had grown stronger since he’d let himself into the barn, drumming now against the roof.

  “I’m all right.” She motioned to the light blue vest she had on over a long-sleeved shirt and her riding leggings.

  Was she trying to point out that she’d dressed warmly enough? He wasn’t buying. Her hands looked pale and cold to him.

  “I’m just going to stay with him a little longer, Jake.” She’d put her hair into some sort of bun on top of her head. “If that’s okay with you.”

  He should order her to leave like he’d planned. To do so was certainly within his rights. But for reasons he didn’t understand, he found it hard to say no to her when she looked at him like that.

  He went to the warm room and made her a cup of coffee using the Keurig. He hadn’t wanted to know things about Lyndie, but he’d nonetheless learned a great deal since they’d started working together.

  He’d learned that she liked coffee. He knew that her cheeks turned pink when she rode. He’d memorized the exact shade of her pale brown eyes, like the color of Jack Daniels. It took physical strength to do the job she did, and he knew that she had that strength. He’d learned that short strands of her hair always came free of her ponytail. He knew that an angel charm dangled from her riding hat. He knew that she worked hard and didn’t complain.

  From the cupboard, he pulled free a throw blanket stored there. Meg’s doing. As he made his way back to her, Blackberry leaned out her doorway and Silver Leaf leaned out his. The neighboring horses touched noses in greeting.

  Jake handed Lyndie the cup of steaming coffee.

  Her expression softened with pleased surprise. “Thank you.”

  Her profile created a perfect line, so sheer and sweet that hunger filled him.

  Hunger? No. But it was hunger. The realization sent fear slicing into him. He wasn’t right or whole. Not good enough for her or anyone. Caring about Lyndie, wanting her, could only cause him misery.

  Without grace, he opened the blanket and dropped it onto her knees. “I’m going to give you thirty more minutes.” He needed to get out of here and away from her. “That’s it.”

  “Thirty more minutes,” she agreed.

  His boots pounded the floor as he strode toward the exit. He’d made a mistake, hiring her. It would be better for them both if she went to work for one of the trainers at Lone Star.

  “Thanks again,” she called after him.

  He didn’t respond. He desperately needed to make it outside so the rain could wash over him and carry away the longing he’d begun to feel for her.

  Chapter Six

  Jake brought me coffee and a blanket today.” Lyndie steered Mollie’s chair along the gravel pathway that wound through the woods behind her parents’ house. “He brought it with a ferocious scowl, mind you. Really ferocious. I’m glad you didn’t see it, Mols, because it would have scared the pants off of you. Still. It was nice of him. And it might indicate that I’m making progress. Then again, it might not.”

  A beginner would probably find it uncomfortable to speak to someone who never spoke back. Lyndie, though, had had a lifetime of practice.

  She’d arrived at her parents’ house earlier with a trunk full of groceries. Mom was working at her counseling job today, which meant that no one had badgered Grandpa Harold into an outing. L
yndie had found him, Mollie’s day nurse, and Mollie sitting in the living room while the Golf Channel played.

  As soon as the rain clouds had slipped eastward and the sun had fought free of the gloom, Lyndie had taken Mollie for a walk. Her sister couldn’t see the water-logged leaves and ground, but she could enjoy the sunshine and the breeze. Plus, Mollie had to be craving a break from golf.

  “Jake’s a mystery to me.” Her memory replayed the moment when he’d walked into the stall with a cup in one hand and a blanket in the other. He’d brought her coffee! He’d covered her with a blanket! Which had to mean he didn’t entirely dislike her. And yet he’d been as gruff as usual about it. So maybe he did entirely dislike her. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head. He’s closed off and guarded, so I’m not sure how much he still struggles with PTSD. I’d like for him to open up to me, but I have no idea how to convince him to do that.” The walkway took them around a long, graceful curve. “I wish I could bring him here because I know you could help him. I’ll work on it.”

  Lyndie had first noticed Mollie’s healing magic when she’d been eight and Mollie five. Their dog had been so sick that he couldn’t eat, walk, or lift his head. The vets had done their best, but even they had begun to give up hope.

  Lyndie had adored that dog. He’d been her first pet. Her parents had purchased him for her after a bout of pneumonia had forced Mollie and their mom to be life-flighted away from the vacation cabin they’d rented for a week one summer.

  The situation had traumatized Lyndie. She’d been terrified that Mollie might die and dismayed to have her mother snatched from her. For the next six months, she hadn’t spoken. She’d trailed around after Jake wordlessly. At home and at school, she’d gone silently through the motions. A therapist had recommended that her parents give her a dog, and the dog had proven to be far better medicine than anything else they could have chosen. Gradually, her voice had come back to her.

  Later, when her dog had been so ill, Lyndie had carried him to Mollie, crying brokenly the whole way, and laid the dog between them on Mollie’s bed. Lyndie could still remember praying over that dog, her fingers buried in his soft fur.