Seeing Daylight (11 page)

He couldn't stop himself. During his weekend at Hearts Crossing, he'd had friendly conversation with most of Rachel's family, including Kelley, so he had no qualms sharing Addie's enrollment at the school, their impending move to Woodside Meadows, his eagerness for a trail ride, and unable to help it, his plans to display her grandmother's art.

“I firmly believe the world needs to see her work.” He nodded, firm.

“I like the idea, Brayton. Honest, I do,” Kelley said beneath just a wrinkle of brow. “But Grim-Gram wasn't much for publicity. It was Ma's idea to enter her pictures at the fair, and Grim-Gram was always in a snit about it. Well, Rachel and Hooper are in charge of everything dealing with Hearts Crossing and its ‘brand.' With Hoop in California right now, you should run it by Rachel.”

“I will,” he promised. Thinking of Rachel again had him gritting his teeth and smiling at the same time. But the smile won out. He'd make a proper date with her like a gentleman did.

 

 

 

 

11

 

Dinner tonight. A date. Or was it a date-date? And was she ready?

Rachel giggled like a schoolgirl. Brayton had had to call the ranch's land line. She'd never even given him her smartphone number. She snorted now. Had Brayton seen Jace as some sort of competition? He'd blown off the coffee invitation all by himself.

Ack, men. What did the morning matter? The afternoon had turned golden when he called. Maybe another good dream was in store for her tonight.

Pink silk fluttered around her knees as she paced in front of the fireplace. Years had passed since she'd waited on a date. Her heart hammered. A date? Or just a meal? Hmmmm. A date-date around here meant the Cattlemen's Club in Promise, and Brayton would easily be able to afford such a place. Her breath caught. Candles, fresh flowers, and fine wine. Maybe dancing cheek to cheek. She shuttered the last thought quick.

Or the Butterbean? Options around here were fairly limited. She'd know for sure it wasn't a date if he took her there. Too casual, too Kelley. All he'd said was dinner, though, and he'd pick her up at seven. Therefore, she'd had six hours to agonize about what to wear. Dinner, not a trail ride. The dress from Bragg and Tiffany's wedding would have to do. Casual and elegant both.

She'd always been on time. Make that an early bird. Just part of her nature, and the waiting around was killing her. With Matty already asleep and her siblings with their own homes, the big house was frighteningly silent. The flames in the fireplace seemed to shout.

“What are you so nervous about?”

Rachel almost fell into the fire. “Gosh, Ma, you scared me!”

“Well, why is Brayton scaring
you
?”

“I'm not scared. Just a little nervous.” She smoothed her draping skirt with freshly-manicured nails. Oh, she had gone all out. “I haven't been on a date for a long time.”

“Well, I think it's a good idea, and about time. And Brayton's a good man.”

That he was, but that didn't stall Rachel's pounding heart as twin headlight beams snaked up the long driveway. She swallowed hard. Well, whatever the future was, it just might be starting now.

Please God. No matter the outcome, You promised to care.

“Never you mind.” Ma's eyes twinkled with mischief. “I'll just tell him you have a nine-thirty curfew. I got your back.”

“Ma, I'm not in junior high.” Rachel punched her mother's arm lovingly then grabbed her evening bag and shawl. “And I bet you were just as nervous waiting on your first date with Doyle.”

“Pshaw. I asked
him
out. I was too old to wait around for him to do it.” The doorbell chimed. “Well, here's your date. You want to get the door or shall I?”

Rachel tried the eye-roll Addie Metcalf did so well, and so often. “Once again,
Mother,
I'm not in junior high.”

As quick as she could in the mile-high stilettos she rarely wore, Rachel hustled to the front door with both excitement and terror. If she took any longer, she'd lose her courage. Twenty-four hours ago the idea of a date with Brayton, a date with
anyone
, would have been the last thing on her mind.

Twilight had misted into soft evening shadows that haloed around Brayton. He stood in the glow of the porch light, taking her breath away. Good jeans, dark sport jacket. Pearl gray shirt and silk tie, not the bolo style most men wore. There must be a breeze going on because his hair was slightly mussed. Or else he'd run his fingers through it.

From the way he didn't speak, she figured he was admiring her, too.

“Hi.” She cleared her throat. The ”hi” had sounded like a frog. “I...this is such a nice surprise. Thanks. I was sorry we didn't get to say goodbye last night. Matty had worn himself out, bumped his noggin, had a bloody nose. Carried on something awful.”

“He all right?” Brayton held out a single white rose.

“Yeah. Just being a kid.” The rose was as perfect as an alabaster sculpture. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. And I'm glad to hear it. About Matty. And glad you weren't avoiding me.” His eyelashes flitted together a few quick times to let her know he wasn't serious. Or at least didn't want her to know. “Let me go say hey to your mom.”

“Better not.” Rachel chuckled, tucked the rose in the handle of her bag, and took his arm. “We'll get stuck here for hours. Besides, she said something about me having a nine-thirty curfew.”

“Then we better make tracks.”

Laughing hard together, she leaned against his solid arm, both liking the feel of his warmth and to steady her shaky knees. Oh, she hadn't been on a date for so long. And from the rose, from the looks of him, it appeared to be a date, not a mere meal.

He led her to a big stretch cab truck wearing a healthy coat of Colorado dust, held the door.

“I see you listened to your daughter and got a proper set of wheels.” Rachel joked as she fastened her seatbelt.

After settling himself, he started off down the long driveway. “Yeah. I got the truck as soon as we moved to Colorado. But the sedan is a smoother driving machine. I know Addie's back is well, but I guess I'll never stop being paranoid about her. I always want the best for her. And well, her alienation from me really seems to be healing here. I'll do all I can to get it to continue. Therefore, in this case,” he laughed out loud, “the switcheroo was a good decision.”

“I hope the switch to Mountain Cove Middle School was a good decision, too.”

Brayton nodded. “She had a great first day. Some of the kids she met at Bible study are in her classes. So all around, a good deal.”

For a flash, Rachel wondered if he'd told Addie about tonight. Did she dare ask? They were silent just for a minute. Beneath the big tires, gravel tugged and crackled. All sounds of life that gave Rachel comfort. As did being at his side. Her nerves had already evaporated.

“Where is Addie tonight?” Maybe she'd learn anyway.

Brayton shrugged. “Homework and the requisite texting are done. The landlady is looking in on her. Therefore, I'm free.”

“What made you ask me out, tonight, I mean?” She smiled at how wiggy she'd been all afternoon.

“What made you accept?”

How honest should she be? As honest as her nature? She'd take the chance. “I had a dream about you last night. I so appreciated your comfort yesterday. I regretted not saying good-bye. And simply put...” She looked over at him. For a flash, he took his gaze from the roadway and it landed on her, warmly yet she shivered. In a good way. “I'm not Addie's regular riding teacher, so I worried I might not see you again. Silly, huh.”

“Not silly at all. But now I'm moving here.”

“I know.” She tingled at the possibilities. “So why tonight?”

Brayton hesitated, but she didn't have a flicker of worry or doubt. She was learning to trust again. In the moment before he spoke, she watched his hands on the wheel, guiding the big truck town the road, if she had her druthers, toward the road to Woodside Meadows.

“I guess I didn't want to waste any more time.”

He pulled into the pretty development; the welcoming gate sided by two tall native Douglas fir. From the start, she and her entire family had been thrilled with the developers, who had worked hard to incorporate and build around existing trees and large rock formations.

“Grampa tried growing alfalfa hay here, but it never took. This is such a lovely place,” she said. “My sister-in-law did a great job landscaping with regional trees and shrubs, but I love how everything seems to fit around what was here from the start.”

“I guess that's why I brought you here. To see my place. I managed to get the power turned on this afternoon. There's no furniture yet, but I snagged a card table and chairs from the inn. They'll have to do.”

“I'm sure they'll do just fine.” Rachel's heart thrummed. An evening alone with him in an empty house. That definitely hadn't been on her list of multiple choices, and the surprise delighted her. “Does turning on the power mean you're cooking? I could have had Ma rustle up something.” Her voice teased. “Sadly I did not inherit her culinary gene.”

“Well, I won't win any culinary awards, I fear. But I did manage to keep two kids nourished. I know my way around a recipe pretty well.”

“I am impressed.” And she was. “I can read, write, and understand any legal brief you stick under my nose. But
al dente, blanch, caramelize
? Sounds like people names to me.”

His laughter rang like a song in her ears.

Down a looping road, he stopped at a townhome softly lit in front with an old-fashioned fixture. Lights flickered in neighboring windows, and Rachel smelled wood smoke on the cold night air. When she tucked her shawl tighter around her shoulders, Brayton noticed; his strong arm fell gently across her after he helped her down.

Stacked rockwork decorated the outer walls and chimney. “Nice place.”

“Sorry it isn't more accommodating. I hope to get some furnishings and things ordered this weekend.”

“Wow.” Even without furniture, the interior projected a warmth she could feel on her skin. Not only did the grate blaze with a hearty fire, but Brayton must also have bought every candle at the mercantile in town, in Promise, maybe even in River Ridge. At least a hundred candles of every size flickered across the mantle and along the baseboards of the hardwood floors.

A candle on each step halfway up the stairs. “I don't know what to say. Either you stockpile candles for emergencies or you are a way confident guy.”

His smile grew, and she knew he agreed with the latter. “And before you berate me about leaving my house empty with open flames, I made acquaintance with my neighbor here on Gray Eagle Circle. Mrs. De la Garza watched the stove, lit the candles, and minded the fireplace when I left to get you. Her final instruction was skipping out the backdoor soon as she saw my headlights.”

“Well done, Mr. Metcalf.” She swiveled to check out as much as she could see. “Well done.”

Overhead recessed lights had obviously been set on dimmer, and the shadowy effect was charming, a bit mysterious, and definitely romantic. She could easily visualize plump chairs and an overstuffed sofa in front of the fire, maybe a braided rug warming the great room. Dark-stained plantation shutters covered the windows but in between the slats, moonlight had started to peek. “I must say. The architects did as well with the interiors as Christy did landscaping.”

True, she could see her and Matty in a similar place. For whatever reason Brayton seemed pleased. “Why don't you sit down?” He gestured grandly across the great room to the card table under a stylish chandelier. “Being this is the only choice you have.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at his efforts. Next to a wine decanter, a big hurricane candle glimmered in the center of the humble card table disguised by a long white cloth. Even the folding chairs wore matching covers that touched the floor.

“Innkeeper uses those linens for bridesmaids' luncheons,” Brayton laughed as he pulled out her chair. “I commandeered 'em.”

“I'll try not to spill.”

“Let me check dinner.” He headed toward a counter surrounded by high-end appliances. “And I must confess. Despite my prior announcement proclaiming my cooking skills, my children's palette was quite limited. They always praised my beef stew, though. And I thought that a dish a rancher's daughter might appreciate.”

“One of my favorites,” Rachel admitted.

“Aw, I knew that. I asked your Ma. And I hope you all don't think I'm trying too hard, but I also commandeered the veggies and herbs from her garden. The beef I admit I purchased from the ranch supply, and pie and bread from Kelley's display case.” He tried to act downcast and apprehensive, but she shook with laughter.

“Well, you already know everything around here's a family affair. Now come on, I'm starving.”

He set down two bowls, seated himself, and he poured two glasses from the decanter. Sparkles of light from the chandelier tossed flickers of gold into the deep red wine. Then he folded his hands.

Grace.

Rachel was more than pleased. For some reason, God was going down easier these days.

Oh, Brayton's food went down easy, too. Conversation flowed, and the wine smoothed. More than ever, Rachel was glad she hadn't run screaming from that telephone call.

“Mmm, good. I never imagined putting basil in blueberry pie.” Brayton hadn't swallowed the second bite of the dessert yet, but his talking around the food was elegant and not unmannerly at all.

“Kelley tries everything. And in case you're wondering, Ma grows the blueberries, too.”

“Gosh, is there anything she doesn't do?” He stretched as well as he could against the little chair, long, strong, burly, and graceful all at the same time. “Seems as amazing as your grandmother.”