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“Well, my truck is parked at the trailer I’m staying in.” He motioned with one hand. “Let’s get you home, huh?”
They made the quick walk across the street and into the makeshift trailer park. Dean held open the passenger-side door for Shelby, ignoring her look of surprise. He got behind the wheel and headed down Sawmill Street, knowing it headed straight out of town.
“How long have you lived in Rust Creek Falls?” he asked to fill the silence as they left the center of town.
“All my life.” Shelby kept her gaze toward the window. “Born, raised and never been farther than Kalispell.”
Kalispell was the next closest town to Rust Creek Falls, about thirty minutes away and where Dean had hoped to take Shelby out for dinner and maybe a movie. She’d already turned him down once. Should he try again?
He followed her directions on the back roads once they left the town limits, noting they soon passed a house for sale, and the five acres it sat on, that had caught his eye last week. Uninhabited for a few years because of the elderly owner’s death, it had survived the flood unscathed. Dean had checked out the place on a whim, his head already filled with ideas to fix it up.
If he went through with his idea of being more than just a temporary resident of Rust Creek Falls, he’d need a place to live.
Shelby pointed out the road that led to her driveway just a few miles away. Dean turned, noting how the gravel drive inclined as they drove. “Did you have much damage from the flooding last month?”
“No, my daddy built our place up on this rise. There was a lot of water around us, and the driveway was impassable for a day or two, but that was it.”
Dean was happy to hear that. Lord knew there were a lot of homes that had suffered damage ranging from flooded basements to entire homes being condemned. the biggest loss to the town, in terms of buildings at least, had been the total destruction of the elementary school.
He had to admit it’d been hard on his heart to be part of the team that gutted the entire place from the ceiling downward, tossing out tons of debris that included everything from books to pencils before a structural inspection could take place.
“Your father’s a smart man.”
“Was. Was a smart man. He died three years ago.”
Damn, that sucked. Shelby must have been a teenager when that happened. Dean, too, knew what it was like to lose a parent at that age. His mother had died suddenly the summer after he graduated from high school.
“You can turn in here.”
He did as Shelby instructed. The headlights of his truck passed over a simple, one-story ranch-style house with a front porch.
And a pickup truck parked in front of a two-car garage.
He thought back to the text message she’d received, not liking how his gut twisted at the sight of the extra vehicle in the drive. Pulling into the empty space near a side entry door, he saw an outside light shone bright in the dark night. A soft glow also came from inside the house. The kitchen, he guessed, wondering again if Shelby had someone waiting up for her.
He put the truck into Park and shut off the twin beams of light from the headlights that bounced off the garage, putting the cab’s interior into a shadowy darkness.
“Well, it’s pretty late.” She reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the lift.”
“Shelby, wait.” He rested his arm across the back of the truck seat, his fingers inches from her shoulder. “You must have figured out that I came back to the bar to see you.”
That got her attention.
She turned to look at him, the soft cotton of her T-shirt brushing against his fingertips. With her back to the outside light, it was hard to see her face, but he could see when her tongue darted out to swipe across her lips.
Yeah, there went his body’s involuntary reactions again.
“Do you believe what I told you earlier about me and Jazzy just being friends?” he pressed.
She nodded but remained silent.
Having no idea if that was a good thing or not, Dean decided he was going to try this again. But first things first. “You know, I’d really like to take you out, but I guess I should find out if you’re involved with someone.”
“Dean, I…” Her voice trailed off as she looked out the windshield, her fingers tunneling through the shoulder-length strands of her hair. “I’m not involved. Most of my nights are spent working at the bar. I don’t have time to date.”
He was glad to hear she was single and she hadn’t turned down his offer quite yet. “Look, I was planning to take a picnic lunch up around the falls Sunday afternoon. I found this great spot, an open area with marked paths, right next to an outcropping of rocks where there’s the remains of—”
“—of a bridge.” She turned back and finished his sentence with him. “Wait, did you say the remains of a bridge?”
Dean nodded. “As far as I can tell, yeah, there used to be a bridge of some kind over the creek. I guess the flooding took it out. Do you know the place?”
“Yes, I know it.”
He waited, wondering if she was going to say more. When she didn’t, he plowed ahead. “So, how about joining me? I make a pretty mean fried chicken.”
She smiled at that. “You cook?”
“It’s an old family recipe that earned my mother a blue ribbon at the Gallatin County Fair three years running.” Dean grinned at the memory. “I’ll even throw in macaroni salad and freshly sliced watermelon.”
Shelby studied him for a long moment, and Dean held his breath. He hadn’t worked this hard for a date in a long time. A couple of the female volunteers on his construction crew had made it clear from the first day they were willing and able to spend time with him. He hadn’t been interested and not just because mixing work and pleasure could be a formula for disaster either.
But this? This he wanted with every ounce of his being.
“Well, how can a girl say no to freshly sliced watermelon?”
Shelby stepped inside her house and closed the kitchen door with a soft click, pausing to lean up against the cool wood for a moment. She couldn’t believe she’d done the exact opposite of what her head had told her to do.
She’d said yes.
For an evening that had gone from bad to worse in a matter of minutes just an hour ago, it had ended with Shelby agreeing to go on a picnic with a total stranger.
A stranger who’d already earned Rosey’s stamp of approval, saved her from a drunken cowboy, helped her clean up the bar and insisted on seeing her safely home after her car died.
A regular knight in shining armor.
Too bad Shelby no longer believed in fairy tales or happily-ever-afters, despite the princess mug.
“Are you okay, honey?”
Shelby turned at the voice, wondering how many times she’d been asked that question in her lifetime. “I’m fine, Mama.”
“When you replied to my text you said you’d be home any minute. What happened? And where’s your car?” Vivian Jenkins shuffled into her kitchen, tying the sash of her cotton bathroom tightly around her waist. “And who brought you home?”
“My car died.” She flipped the lock on the door, deciding to go with the short version of the night’s events. “That was Dean Pritchett. He was at the bar and nice enough to bring me home.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you are hooking up with another one of those cowboys.” Her mother’s tone switched from concerned to protective. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“Dean isn’t a cowboy. I think. I’m not really sure what he does for a living, but he’s part of the volunteer crew that came from Thunder Canyon to help with the repairs of the town.”
Her mother’s demeanor changed in an instant. For a woman who had fallen in love and married a cowboy within weeks of meeting him twenty-five years ago, she sure held a disdain for the species nowadays. “Oh. Well, that was very nice of him.”
“Yes, Dean Pritchett is a nice guy.” Shelby walked past her mother and out of the kitchen, waiting until she was in the hallway before dropping the next bomb. “Which is why I agreed to go out on a date with him.”
“Shelby Marie!”
“Shh!” Turning around, Shelby put her finger to her lips despite the partially closed door to her left. “I don’t want you to wake her.”
Her mother dismissed the request with the wave of her hand. “Oh, please. That child sleeps through a Montana thunderstorm. You know her.”
Yes, she did.
Shelby pushed open the door, the night-light bathing her daughter’s bedroom in a warm light. The entire room was decorated in princesses, from the bedding to the toys, but the most important princess of all lay asleep, a stuffed yellow bear held tight in her grasp.
Crossing the room, Shelby automatically picked up the stuffed toys that hadn’t been selected as bedtime companions and her daughter’s clothing, tossing each in their respective baskets. She perched gently on the edge of the twin-size mattress, marveling at how small Caitlin looked curled up in a ball in the center of the bed.
Brushing back the blond strands that matched her own, Shelby gazed at the little girl who changed her life five years ago. Caitlin was born on Shelby’s seventeenth birthday, a present ten days early.
And two weeks after the end of Shelby’s junior year in high school.
Two weeks after Caitlin’s father, football star Zach Shute, had graduated, still proclaiming the baby wasn’t his.
Shaking off the memories, Shelby leaned in and placed a kiss on her daughter’s forehead, taking a moment to breathe in that simple fragrance of bubblegum-scented shampoo and talcum powder.
“Did she give you any trouble with her bath tonight?” Shelby whispered, knowing her mother stood behind her.
“Are you kidding me?” Vivian laid a hand on Shelby’s shoulder. “She loved it. As long as I sang ‘Under the Sea’ over and over again. And then we had to read the book connected with that movie at least four times before she would settle down.”
Shelby smiled. Her daughter did love to read. A trait she’d picked up from both her grandparents. She didn’t have any idea where she or Caitlin would be today if it wasn’t for the love and support of her parents.
Telling them she was pregnant at the tender age of sixteen was the hardest thing she’d ever faced, but both her mom and her dad had been by her side from the very beginning.
Rising, Shelby motioned her mother from the room. She was suddenly very tired and she had to be up with Caitlin in the morning as her mother worked at the local beauty salon on Saturdays. Thank goodness her daughter tended to sleep in, but even an 8:00 a.m. wake-up was going to be tough to handle at this point.
“Good night, Mama.” Shelby gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek after they left Caitlin’s room. “I’m heading to bed.”
“So when is this date of yours?”
Shelby sighed. She should have known. “We’re going for a picnic Sunday afternoon. Is that okay? Are you and Caitlin still going to the movies in Kalispell?”
Her mother nodded. She’d insisted on special afternoons with her granddaughter even though she stepped in as babysitter while Shelby worked at the bar. “And we’re going out for junk food afterward.”
“Mama—”
“I know, but it’s my right as a grandmother. Healthy stuff here in the house, junk food during nana-and-me dates.”
She was too tired to argue about it now. “Okay.”
“Does this man you’re going out with know about Caitlin?”
No, he didn’t.
She’d thought about telling him she was a single mom to a five-year-old. Just to see how quickly he would backpedal from his invite, much like the last two guys did after finding out about Caitlin.
But the idea of spending a few hours up by the falls with another adult of the opposite sex, especially one as goodlooking and well, nice, as Dean Pritchett, was too tempting to pass up.
Besides, she wasn’t looking for anything serious. Goodness knows she had enough seriousness in her life, especially now. Her plans to move away from Rust Creek Falls had implanted even more fully in her head after the school board’s rejection of her job application.
“Well, does he?” her mother asked.
“No. At least not yet.” Shelby had a feeling he would have mentioned Caitlin if someone else had already told him. “Don’t worry, Mama, Sunday afternoon is nothing more than a one-time thing.”
She closed her eyes to the seed of hope that was already rooting inside of her. The one that said maybe this was more than that.
Much more.
Chapter Four
Sunday was another glorious summer day.
Bright sunshine and an afternoon temperature that reached almost eighty degrees, even though it was a bit cooler up on the mountain. The day was a carbon copy of the weather they’d been blessed with for the past few weeks that allowed the steady rebuilding of the town.
Still, a chill raced through Shelby. Glad that she’d pulled on her jeans and boots while getting dressed for her date with Dean, she second-guessed the short sleeves of her T-shirt that left her arms bare and susceptible to a ridge of goose bumps that rose on her skin.
She stared at the spot where a simple wooden bridge used to cross this section of the creek.
The majestic upper falls were still two-thirds of the way to the summit of Falls Mountain, but here in these twin open fields, popular with so many of the townspeople for parties and picnics, the lower falls were a more gentle cascade of water over an outcropping of boulders and rocks.
A month ago the flowing water must have been anything but gentle.
“I can’t believe it’s gone.” She rubbed her arms to chase away the tingling. “The bridge had been here a long time.”
Dean dropped to one knee, closely examining the broken sections of timber embedded into the ground, the only parts of the structure still there. “From what I heard, the rising water was more than enough to wash it clean away. How sturdy was the bridge?”
“Very. My daddy and his friends built it back when he and my mom were dating.” Unable to look at the empty space any longer, Shelby backed away. “He told me their crowd used to come here a lot when they were teenagers. Back when no one else used to. At the time there’d been just a big old log across the divide until the guys from the high school wood shop decided to make it easier to cross.”
Dean rose, gathering the backpack that carried their lunch, a small cooler and a well-loved quilt in his hands. He joined her again on the trail they’d been following for the past twenty minutes or so. “I wonder if it’s on the town’s master list of structures that need to be rebuilt or replaced.”
“Doubtful.” Shelby shrugged, working to add indifference to her tone as they walked. “With all the destruction down in the valley, I bet no one has even thought about the bridge.”
The truth was she didn’t want to care about the bridge anymore. It’d be one more thing that would make leaving harder when the time came.
Right up there with her mother.
As much as she’d tried to convince her mama that moving away from Rust Creek Falls was the best thing for her and Caitlin, the older woman refused to even think about going with them.
Even after Shelby had finally shared how she’d been turned down for a teaching position early this morning while Caitlin slept.
“I’ll check tomorrow at the weekly meeting.”
