It seemed as if he’d just drifted off when the alarm sounded. He’d been tempted to stay home and do some scraping on the house. But he’d promised Pastor Barbee he’d participate in the box-lunch auction.
The once-a-year event benefited the church’s Vacation Bible School program, and the coffers desperately needed replenishing. Last year the weather had been bad and the turnout dismal.
In the tradition of the Wild West, single women made up a picnic lunch for two and bachelors bid on the decorated baskets of food.
Two years ago Josh ended up having lunch with Caroline Carstens, who’d been back from college for the summer. It had been pure torture. She’d spent the entire lunch talking about her fancy cell phone and her blog. Not his style at all. This year had to be better. If only Stacie were participating…
As quickly as the thought entered his mind, he dropkicked it out of his head. They’d gone to the dance together only as a favor to Lauren. There was no reason for them to spend any more time together.
The auction had already started by the time Josh took a seat on the grassy knoll. The minister—who supplemented his church income by being an auctioneer—was holding up a basket with sunflowers on the side. Josh immediately recognized it. He kept his mouth shut and his hand down. A guy could only take so much, even if it did benefit the church.
The basket was won by the younger brother of one of Josh’s friends. He let out a war whoop when the minister pointed to Caroline.
There were only a handful of baskets left when Stacie and her roommates arrived and deposited theirs at the minister’s feet.
A murmur went through the crowd and the bidding grew spirited when first Lauren’s and then Anna’s were brought to the stage. Stacie’s was the next one up.
There were many guys who hadn’t yet bid, including Wes Danker. Josh wondered which would have the pleasure of Stacie’s company.
Pastor Barbee began his spiel, but instead of men shouting out bids, there was only silence.
The minister tapped the microphone, making sure it was still on. “Let’s start with twenty-five. Who’ll give twenty-five?”
No one said a word, much less called out a bid. A hush settled over the crowd. Stacie’s cheeks turned bright pink.
When Wes turned and cast a pointed glance at him, Josh finally realized what was up. In the minds of the citizens of Sweet River, Stacie was his girl and they weren’t about to poach.
But Stacie wouldn’t know that. All she knew was that no one wanted to have lunch with her.
Though Josh had vowed to keep his distance, he refused to see her humiliated. He stood. “One hundred dollars.”
Okay, so that was overkill. With no one bidding against him he could have had her basket for five. But how would that have looked to Stacie and to the town? Like he didn’t value her company. Anyway, that’s how it would appear…
A look of relief crossed the minister’s face. “Number fifteen sold to Joshua Collins for one hundred dollars.”
Stacie turned, looking utterly delectable in a pink-and-white summer dress. He couldn’t read her expression from the distance, but she lifted her hand in a little wave.
The remaining picnic lunches went quickly. It was soon time for Josh to claim his basket…and Stacie.
He moved to the front and grabbed the wicker handle before turning to face the pretty brunette. Josh shifted from one foot to the other, feeling as awkward as a new colt. “Together again.”
“So it seems.”
He noticed her eyes were red rimmed and he remembered the look on her face last night when she’d learned her friend had been murdered. “Look,” he said. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I think we do.” A slight smile lifted Stacie’s lips. “You saved me from owning the only basket not bid on.”
“It wasn’t you,” he said. “Or your basket.”
A doubtful look crossed her face. “What else could it be?”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pastor’s wife headed their way. To be interrogated—no matter how well-meaning—was the last thing Stacie needed after her emotional night.
“Walk with me.” He cupped her elbow in his hand and started back in the direction of where he’d been sitting. They quickly reached the spot, but Josh didn’t slow his pace. “You’ve been marked as mine and guys ’round here don’t trespass.”
A look of startled surprise crossed her face and she stopped. “Seriously?”
“I know.” He placed his hand against the small of her back and urged her across the street toward a small park surrounded by an ornate wrought-iron fence. “Sounds crazy, but…”
Josh didn’t know what else to say. While in many places a pretty woman was always considered fair game, that wasn’t the Sweet River way.
“I think it’s admirable,” Stacie said. “You don’t see loyalty like that anymore.”
This time Josh was the one surprised. “I thought you’d be angry.”
A tiny frown marred Stacie’s forehead. “Why?”
“For starters,” Josh said, “I messed up your chance to meet and have lunch with someone new.”
“I didn’t want to eat with anyone else,” Stacie said in a matter-of-fact tone.
His heart skipped a beat. “You didn’t—er…don’t?”
“What’s the point? Most guys are looking for a wife.” She reached over and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “You and I know exactly where the other stands.”
The realization should have made him happy. Instead a leaden weight filled his stomach.
Stacie took the basket from his hands and placed it on a nearby picnic table. She flipped the top open and pulled out a tablecloth. “I hope you’re in the mood to experiment.”
He spread out the blue-and-white cloth while she took out a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Experiment?”
Stacie gestured toward the basket. “The food I packed isn’t ordinary picnic fare.”
“I like out of the ordinary,” Josh said, realizing with sudden shock that it was true. Stacie was different from any other woman he’d known, and he was starting to like the roller-coaster ride he’d been on since he met her.
“Then you’re in for a treat.”
Josh stared at Stacie’s hazel eyes and moist red lips. “I’m sure I am.”
“What did you make?” His words were like a splash of cold water.
Stacie blinked and pulled herself back to reality—the reality that said kissing Josh the first time had been a mistake, the reality that warned kissing him a second time would only compound the error.
“I’ve got tomato basil and brie spread, Spanish shrimp and rice salad and raspberry crumb bars. But my absolute favorite is the gourmet tuna salad on wheat.” Already anticipating the tangy blend of tuna, capers and almonds, Stacie’s taste buds tingled. “Tuna is one of my favorite ingredients. The green olives and Worcestershire sauce take it from ordinary to—”
“Tuna?”
Stacie put down the silverware and napkins and gave him her full attention. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “I’m just not a tuna man.”
Of course.
This was cattle country. Roast beef and Swiss would have been a safer choice. Not to mention tuna could be bland and tasteless—depending on who did the preparation. But hers was spectacular. She had no doubt that he’d be a huge fan after one bite. “You’ll love mine.”
“I don’t think I made myself clear,” Josh said. “I can’t stomach the stuff.”
His tone left no room for argument or doubt.
Stacie leaned forward, letting her hair swing to cover her face as she rummaged in the basket, not wanting him to see her distress. “That’s okay.” She told herself not to take his dislike personally. “There’s plenty else to eat.”
“The smell alone nauseates me,” he added.
“I understand.” Disappointment caused her voice to be sharper than she’d intended. She lifted her head and softened the words with a smile. “We all have foods we don’t like. In fact, this reminds me of a story my mother liked to tell.”
Uncorking the wine, Josh filled each glass halfway and handed one to Stacie. He took a seat on one side of the picnic table and she sat opposite him.
Josh took a sip. “Did the story involve tuna?”
Stacie laughed as she pulled out the rest of the food. “Scalloped potatoes.”
His eyes lit up. “A favorite of mine.”
“Mine, too,” Stacie said. “Pretty much every one I know likes them…except my mother. She got sick after eating a big helping one year. After that, her formerly favorite casserole shot straight to the top of her cannot-stand-the-sight-or-smell list.”
Josh grabbed a piece of French bread and scooped out a little of the basil and brie spread.
“What was weird was a couple of times every year she’d make it for my dad.” Stacie could still see the look of surprise and pleasure on her father’s face when he’d see the casserole dish on the table.
“Why did she do that?” Josh added a healthy helping of shrimp and rice salad to his plate. “I’m sure he didn’t expect it.”
“You’re right. He didn’t expect it at all.” Stacie’s lips lifted in a smile. “Whenever I asked her, she’d just laugh and say ‘nothing says love like scalloped potatoes.’”
Josh paused, a piece of French bread in hand, a thoughtful look on his face. “She did it to show how much he meant to her.”
Stacie took a sip of wine. “I didn’t understand when I was little, but as I got older I came to that same conclusion. It was a way of saying ‘I love you’ without words.”
“They sound like a nice couple.” Josh took a bite of the French bread with spread and murmured his appreciation.
“They are,” Stacie admitted. “Their only fault is an intense desire to make me more like them.”
“I understand.” Josh’s eyes took on a distant look. “From the time I was small I was pushed toward a career in business, not ranching.”
Boy, did Stacie understand what that was like. She’d never bought into her family’s rigid definition of success. And because of that, they’d always thought she was a flake.
“My dad has a successful auto dealership in Ann Arbor. My mother is a CPA with her own firm.” Stacie shook her head. “My siblings all inherited that entrepreneurial spirit.”
“At least you have that in common,” Josh commented.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your dream is to own a catering firm,” he said. “Doesn’t get much more entrepreneurial than that.”
“I disagree.” Stacie took a bite of the shrimp and rice salad and chewed thoughtfully. “I’d be doing it because it’s my passion, not because I want to make gobs of money.”
“Success and passion don’t have to be mutually exclusive.” Josh’s gaze lingered on her face. “I have to turn a profit to keep the ranch going.”
“I realize that. I just don’t want money to be the main focus.” Stacie sighed. Sometimes it felt as if she’d never find her bliss. “At least Amber got to live out her dream.”
A lump formed in her throat. Stacie glanced down at the food on her plate. Her appetite had vanished.
“Losing a good friend,” Josh said in a soft, low voice, “is like losing a family member.”
“She was so full of life. And such a good person.” Tears filled Stacie’s eyes despite her best efforts to keep them at bay. “She didn’t deserve to die like that.”
She dropped her fork on the brightly colored paper plate then buried her head in her hands. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Though she hadn’t heard Josh get up he was suddenly sitting beside her. “You’re right,” he said. “She didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“I’m sorry. I thought I’d cried myself out last night.” Reaching into her pocket, Stacie pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. “I just feel so empty inside.”
A family spilled into the park. The kids scurried to the play equipment while the parents plopped an overflowing picnic basket on the table. The man waved to Josh and the woman cast a curious glance at Stacie.
Stacie wiped the remaining wetness from her cheeks with the tips of her fingers. “Let’s go before your friends come over.”
Josh’s gaze searched her face, two lines of worry between his eyes. “There’s a place on my ranch. I don’t know if it has good cosmic energy or what, but I always feel better after I’ve been there. Best of all, it’s completely private.”
Stacie didn’t think there was a single place on earth that had the power to lighten her heart. Still, going back to the house and crying in her room held little appeal. “Would you show it to me?”
“Of course,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. A slight smile lifted his lips. “Trust me—when you get there, you’re going to say ‘Josh Collins, you are so smart. This place is just what I needed.’”
“I suppose you’ll expect a kiss, too.”
She wasn’t sure who was most surprised by the words, but the slow grin that spread like molasses across his face told her he liked the idea.
His gaze dropped to linger on her lips and they immediately began to tingle.
“Kissing,” he said softly, “will be entirely up to you.”