Hometown Hearts Page 8

  “Are you kidding? Gran has already hunted down the best dress shop, the best florist, et cetera, and negotiated prices like a seasoned professional. I’m her first grandchild to marry in a long, long while.”

  “It’s nice she loves you so much.” She missed her grandmother, who had passed on. She would forever remember her snickerdoodles and loving kindness. Her Gran had been an animal lover, too. “Does she have the invitations printed already?”

  “No, but only because I made her promise I got to pick them out. Which reminds me. I’m going to need a maid of honor. I don’t suppose you would be interested?”

  “I guess you could twist my arm.” Laughing, Cheyenne set the carrier on the passenger seat and worked the seat belt through the handle to keep Tomasina safe during the drive. “I would love to. Ooh, this will be so fun. When do I get to help you pick out stuff?”

  “We’ll see what Gran hasn’t done yet and go from there.” Eloise laughed. It was good to hear her so happy after her car accident several years ago. She sounded whole, like the girl she used to be. “There’s another reason I’m calling. Cady wanted me to schedule a Granger girls at the spa day, her treat.”

  “What?” Cheyenne closed the door as carefully as she could so as not to startle the finch and circled around to the driver’s side. “You mean a free day of pampering at the inn’s spa? That sounds so great. I love Cady.”

  “Who doesn’t? Is there any chance Nate can give you a day off soon?”

  “I’ll ask him and see.” Blessed cool air fanned from the vents. She let it waft over her face as she settled behind the wheel. “I’ll text you when I know.”

  “Great, then I can contact everyone else. We figured you are the busiest, so we are going to schedule around you. Cady is really excited.”

  “I am, too.” She put the truck in gear and backed out of the spot. They talked for a few more minutes and made plans to meet as Cheyenne navigated down the residential streets of town, slowing at the intersections, stopping for an elderly couple to cross the street, waving at everyone who looked up from their flower bed weeding, lawn mowing or porch sitting. When she disconnected, she was alone with Tomasina. The bird watched her with a curious expression, as if wondering what exciting and new thing was about to happen next.

  “I’m glad this has all worked out well for you, little one.” She smiled at the baby as she pulled into a driveway sandwiched between fields. She winced when she recognized the luxury sedan parked in the detached carport. Adam was home. She’d been hoping to be in and out before he left work.

  Oh, well. She pulled to a stop at the end of the gravel drive, shut off the engine and lifted the small cage. Tomasina watched trustingly. “I can do this. It doesn’t have to be awkward or weird. I’ll smile a lot and try not to say anything else I might regret.”

  The bird blinked, perhaps in agreement and so Cheyenne opened the door. Wind whistled through wild grasses next to the driveway as they headed toward the house.

  “Cheyenne!” Julianna’s excited voice rang in the air, a screen door slammed open and feet pounded on wood. The little girl leaped into sight, flying down the porch steps, her pigtails sailing behind her as she ran. “You brought her! Hi, Tomasina, remember me?”

  The bird blinked again.

  “Oh, she’s so cute.” The girl dropped to her knees on the lawn and studied the fragile creature. “She’s all healed up now. She doesn’t hurt anymore, does she?”

  “No, she is feeling fine.” She offered the girl the carrier. “You did a good thing in saving her, Julianna.”

  “I didn’t save her. You and God did.” The girl clutched the cage carefully and peered in at the bird. Her button face and sweet concern made her twice as cute.

  “God surely did. I just took care of her wounds.” She was thankful the Lord had answered Julianna’s prayer. As she often did in her work, she felt His quiet presence. “Shall we get her back to her nest? I’m sure she really misses her family.”

  “Hi, Cheyenne!” Jenny strolled into sight. “I asked our neighbor Mr. Plum if we could borrow his ladder, and he brought it over and everything.”

  “That’s great since my tree climbing skills are rusty.”

  She felt his approach even before the screen door squeaked open and his shoes padded on the porch. The unfriendly drum of his steps prepared her for the granite man, his face set, his eyes unreadable and as distant as the horizon. His brows knit together, his face darkened and severe lines dug in around his frown.

  “The girls did tell you I was coming?” she said with her foot on the bottom porch step. “Because you look like a man who didn’t have any warning.”

  “No. I wasn’t aware.” He raked a hand through his dark fall of hair, tousling it. He probably didn’t realize that only made him more handsome. “You girls could have told me.”

  “We were going to, but you just got home.” Jenny glibly appeared at top of the steps. “Right, Julianna?”

  “Yep. Look at Tomasina, Daddy.” The littler girl lifted the carrier. “Isn’t she sweet? She’s all well and everything. God fixed her.”

  “So I see.” The smallest hint of amusement softened the hard set of his features. “It was a good thing you girls did in rescuing her.”

  Both girls beamed up at him, their affection as bright as their smiles. Maybe some of the family’s wounds were starting to heal, Cheyenne thought as she followed everyone across the tiny porch and into the house, which had once been a stable. The interior was polished wood, softly stuccoed white walls and big sunlit windows. Julianna’s dolls were forgotten on the living-room area rug, frozen in the middle of a picnic scene that included snappy summer fashions and a bright pink convertible.

  “You’ll have to excuse the disorder.” Adam tossed over one wide shoulder as he crossed the room. “The girls didn’t pick up their toys. They were supposed to.”

  “I like a little disorder.” Cheyenne wasn’t fooled by his tone. She looked around at the comfortable furniture and caught a glimpse of a tidy kitchen. Not only did he work hard as a doctor, he had made a home for his daughters.

  As she remembered how her father had done the same, her throat caught with emotion. Dad had put in long days in the barns and on the range but he was always there to listen to stories of the school day, help with homework, praise good grades and sympathize with childhood heartaches. As she crossed the room, she saw the same commitment in this home. Hard not to respect and admire Adam for the man he was, a man who did whatever it required to take care of those he loved.

  Her feelings for him had changed. She didn’t want to admit it, but they had.

  “That’s the tree. I know because we saw her fall out and everything.” Julianna led the way out the back door, carrier in hand. She peered in at the chick to make sure the little one was faring okay. “She went plop right on the grass.”

  “We were eating ice cream on the patio,” Jenny explained. “She chirped but her mom couldn’t help her.”

  “That’s when the hawk swooped in and scooped her up.” Julianna held up the cage, presumably so the chick could see her tree. “Are you ready to go home, Tomasina? I always am when I’m done at the doctor’s.”

  “I’ll get the ladder.” Adam ambled away, the rich tones of his words lingering. He crossed the few yards to the side of the house where a ladder leaned in the shade, drawing her gaze.

  Why couldn’t she look away from him? She had really strong willpower, too, and it had no effect. He wore a blue T-shirt and khaki cutoffs, looking like he’d walked off the glossy pages of a catalogue with the wind in his dark hair and his muscles rippling as he carried the ladder. Overhead, the mama bird fluttered, chirping sharply at them. She was so not happy to return to her nest and find it surrounded by humans. Hungry chicks called out, singing a noisy chorus.

  “Cheyenne, look!” Julianna held up the carrier. “Tomasina’s chirping, too. She remembers her mom.”

  “I’m sure she’s missed her very much.” Cheyenne ripped
her gaze away from the man settling the ladder against the apple tree’s scaly trunk. It wasn’t her business how many muscles he had or how attractively they rippled in his strong arms. Did he work out?

  “I know what that is like.” Julianna sighed, sadness chasing the warmth from the moment. Jenny hung her head.

  “Oh.” She hadn’t meant to dredge up painful memories. How did she apologize? Adam gave the ladder a shake to see if it would hold. Tension bunched along his jaw. Had his walls gone up? She felt the cool brush of his gaze before he turned away. She swallowed hard, determined to do the right thing. “I know what that’s like, too. My mom left when I was about your age, Julianna.”

  “She did? Then you know.” Julianna leaned close and held the cage so they could look in at the bird together. “I’m so glad Tomasina can be with her mom again.”

  “Me, too.” Easy to read the girl’s raw pain and the wish for her mother’s return. “Did you want to say goodbye to her?”

  “Yes.” Julianna’s voice thinned. Jenny quietly sidled up to her as the girls bowed their heads together. Whispers and hushed words didn’t quite carry on the wind. She took a step back to give them a little privacy.

  “I could use a little help.” Adam ducked as a second bird soared out of the sky directly toward him. “The mom called in reinforcements.”

  “The dad’s trying to protect his family.” She ducked, too, watching the brightly colored finch swoop close with a squawk. “That was nearly a kamikaze mission. He almost hit you. Are you all right?”

  “That beak looks sharp. It missed me, but what about the girls?”

  “They will be fine.” Cheyenne shaded her eyes with her hands, squinting against the bright sun. The daddy bird landed on a branch beside his mate. The two parents cheeped at them in scolding tones. She wished she knew a way to tell them not to worry as she grabbed hold of the ladder, slipped her foot onto the bottom rung and gave a gasp as the contraption shimmied.

  “Let me hold that for you.” Adam moved in, his capable hands curling around the wooden sides, his breath fanning her hair. She was close enough to see the stubble of his five-o’clock shadow and the caramel flecks in his brown irises.

  Just as she’d been able to sense his pain and shadows, she saw his heart beneath the barriers, tender and caring. He might think he could hide his real self from her, but he would be wrong. She lifted her foot off the ground and climbed up a few rungs, enjoying the companionable feel of working together with him. Nice.

  “Okay, Tomasina.” Julianna lifted the carrier. “Don’t be afraid.”

  When Cheyenne lifted the lid, the baby rocked with anticipation. The feel of the breeze and the green smell of trees and grass must have been a welcome sensation, because the chick held out her wings and fluttered. Her little round eyes gleamed as her siblings chorused again in hungry, hopeful twitters.

  “Let’s get you home, little one.” She scooped the creature gently into her palm, enclosed her fingers just enough to keep the finch from falling and climbed two rungs. Working to keep her balance, Cheyenne straightened. Good thing Adam had a sturdy hold on the ladder. She could sense his watchful presence and his hand curved around her ankle, holding her solid. While alarmed parents dived, the nest full of chicks opened their beaks wide. She deftly nudged Tomasina into place in the middle and ducked before the daddy finch could skim the crown of her head.

  “He almost got you, but you were fast.” Adam’s words were low, layered with a tone she couldn’t discern as he released her ankle, but he remained on the ground beside her, holding the ladder with one hand and catching her elbow with the other. She didn’t need the solid band of his fingers gripping her arm, but his friendliness was welcome.

  “It’s not my first baby bird rescue mission,” she explained with a hop to the ground.

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” His gaze fastened on hers and her heart skip three beats.

  Strange. She shrugged it off and backed off a few paces. Jenny sidled up to her. Julianna cuddled her other side. While Adam hefted the ladder and leaned it against the house, they watched the father finch light on a limb and tweet at them in warning. Mama perched on the side of her nest and checked over her little ones. Chicks twittered and their song could have been a welcome home to Tomasina, at least Cheyenne hoped so.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Julianna snuggled closer. Worry thinned her voice. “Her mom still wants her, right?”

  “Right.” Recognizing the real issue, Cheyenne slipped one arm around the girl.

  “Good, cuz everybody needs a mom.”

  “The mama bird looks pretty relieved to see all her babies are back in the nest. She’s feeding them. I think that’s Tomasina crowding to the front.”

  “Her poor siblings. I know just what it’s like to have a pushy sister.” Jenny glanced down at the ground, her dark hair falling forward to screen both the half smile and the sadness on her face. Happy for Tomasina, sad for their lost mother.

  “I know that special feeling, too.” Cheyenne slid her other arm around the older girl. Caring crept in. She could not hold it back.

  “You were right, Cheyenne.” Adam approached, hands in his pockets, studying the chicks tweeting in hopes of their parents return. “I don’t know as much about animals as I think.”

  “Sometimes I think that’s all I know.” She unwound herself from the girls and knelt to take the carrier Julianna still clutched. “I’m a total animal person. Not so good with people.”

  “I don’t know about that. You seem to be plenty popular around here.” He nodded toward the girls.

  “You’re not leaving yet, are you?” Jenny asked, crestfallen.

  “Don’t go, Cheyenne.” Julianna clutched the woman’s hand, holding on with all her strength and pleading with all the might in her heart. “You have to stay for supper. We’re havin’ hamburgers.”

  “I made chocolate pudding for dessert.” Jenny’s forehead furrowed, her hands steepled and he could feel the girl’s pull of want from where he stood.

  “Maybe Cheyenne has plans.” At least he hoped she did. This invitation wasn’t something his daughters had cleared with him first. He fisted his hands, determined not to automatically shore up his defenses. He recognized the sympathy gentling Cheyenne’s lovely features and her manner was equally as tender as she knelt until she was eye level with Julianna.

  “My family expects me home.” To her credit Cheyenne didn’t look panicked at the idea of spending the evening in close proximity to him.

  “Maybe you could call and ask permission.” Julianna turned on the Bambi look. He knew exactly how hard that was to say no to. “If your dad says yes, then you can stay. That’s what I do when I want to stay at a friend’s. Back in New York, since I don’t have any friends here. Yet. Except for Dusty. She’s my best friend.”

  “My horse, Wildflower, has always been one of my best friends. Horses make great BFFs.”

  “You could be my best friend forever, too,” Julianna offered.

  He felt something break inside him. Not the walls surrounding his heart, but something more dangerous. The reserve he’d wrapped all the feelings he’d buried since Stacy admitted her affair was in danger of shattering. He’d been walking around like a half zombie, barely awake, simply existing. Like a dike crumbling, his emotions rushed upward with enough force that he could not hold them back.

  His daughters were still hurting. Standing in the dappled shade surrounded by green grass and blue sky and with the world alive and vibrant around them, they were as caught in shadow as he’d been. He’d tried hard to steer everyone onto a sensible path, to keep life as solid and practical as possible that he hadn’t been able to measure the true problem. He had to admit that not wanting to examine his feelings made it harder for him to recognize and help them with theirs. What kind of father did that make him?

  “I would love being friends with you, with both of you.” Cheyenne could see what he had not. Her tenderness toward the girls, her care with
their feelings, her sincere offer of friendship made his chest cinch so tight it hurt to breathe. She wasn’t just a good vet but a truly caring woman. “I think we are already birds of a feather.”

  “Uh,” Jenny groaned at the pun, hiding her laugh.

  “Then you have to stay. Friends eat over at each other’s houses all the time.” Julianna looked so vulnerable with the depth of her heart shining in her eyes. It was all he could do not to scoop her up and hold her tight, to find a way to give her what she’d been missing, what he hadn’t even realized he’d been denying her.

  “I’ll give my dad a call.” Cheyenne reached into her pocket and pulled out her bright pink phone. Every little movement she made was graceful as if timed to music, and his spirit responded like she was a song his soul already knew.

  Chapter Eight

  “Jenny, this is good pudding.” Cheyenne let the creamy chocolaty goodness glide over her tongue. “You did a really good job.”

  “It was just the instant kind.” Jenny shrugged and dug her spoon into the bowl on the patio table in front of her, dismissing the compliment as if it didn’t much matter. Her tiny smile said it did.

  “Chocolate’s my favorite.” Julianna licked her spoon.

  “Me, too.” Cheyenne smiled and dug her spoon into her bowl for another bite.

  “We’re like twins.” Julianna gazed up at her with those big Bambi eyes and leaned her head against Cheyenne’s arm.

  “Twins except for I’m a lot taller than you,” she couldn’t help teasing.

  “And your hair is reddish and mine’s brown.”

  “Exactly.” Funny. Warmth whispered through her, cotton-candy sweet.

  “Chocolate is my favorite, too.” Jenny swirled her pudding into a swirly mountain peak. “Does that mean we’re triplets?”

  “Triplets at heart.” Cheyenne couldn’t escape Adam’s scrutiny. He watched her in the same way he’d been watching her since she’d returned Tomasina to her nest. No longer dour, but a furrow had dug into his forehead and stayed there throughout the meal, which he’d barbecued on the patio. He’d listened to the females talk about birds, horses, how they were progressing with the riding lessons Autumn was giving them in her spare time and he’d hardly commented. She sensed something had changed, but she didn’t know what. Who knew what the man was thinking?