Authors: Kristen Ashley
And last, Gray taught me how to drive the small riding mower he had so I also took over mowing the front lawn and the areas around the house.
I’d also taken the time to clean out Gray’s truck and I was right. He hadn’t tidied since I left, or if he did, he did a half-assed job, and I had the date on an old receipt as proof.
I threw myself into my new rancher’s stylish girlfriend role and loved it. I could wear my high heels into town, my western duds while out with the horses and work on my tan by wearing one of my bikini tops and short-shorts while on the riding lawn mower.
Gray loved it too (especially me wearing my bikini top on the lawn mower).
I knew this because his days went from being ten hours long to eight. I knew this also because I made Gray a blueberry cobbler that I served warm with gourmet ice cream and he told me it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. I further knew this when he walked by the vase of flowers I’d put on the cabinet under the window in the kitchen, stopped, looked at it awhile then looked at me grinning.
And I knew this because he told me so.
The more I learned, the more we lived together, the more I settled. I knew where my new place would be in Mustang – at Gray’s side, doing my bit to work the ranch. And, if we could swing it financially, that was where I’d stay making sure my man got what he needed while doing my part.
I loved it.
Every second.
So, surprisingly, green acres was the place for me.
The only blight on the last week and a half was the Tuesday after Gray and I had our first fight. After he was done working, he took a shower and we got takeaway pulled pork sandwiches from The Rambler and took them to Grandma Miriam.
Although Gray again tried to calm me, I was anxious about seeing her. I left Gray but she had one son who was left behind by the love of his life and then she had a grandson it happened to too. She loved Gray and I figured Grandma Miriam might not be forgiving even after what I’d done to save the land.
But when we made it to her room, my anxiety disappeared and something else far more difficult to deal with took its place.
Because there was a reason Gray had to put his Gran in a home and one look at her, I saw it.
The seven years had not been kind to her. She’d lost weight, she’d gained wrinkles and the flash of matriarch bossiness in her eyes had disappeared. Gray had told me that time had marched fast for Grandma Miriam and it had done it marching all over her and he hadn’t lied. She had pain from her spinal injury and that and age just wore her down. She started losing strength and having more and more troubles doing things for herself.
But even knowing this, I was not prepared for just how frail she was. How the life seemed to have seeped right out of her and seeing it, it knocked me emotionally to my knees.
I hid it because the other thing I noted instantly was that she was far more anxious at seeing me. So much so she appeared terrified.
And this was because Gray told her everything. She knew he and I had been played, she knew what I’d done to save her and the ranch and seven years ago, she put the phone down on me five times. She knew we’d been played but still, she felt responsible for keeping us apart by being stubborn and ornery.
It took awhile to talk her around, make her understand that I didn’t blame her, I got it that she, like Gray, was flashing back to Gray’s Mom and this taking so much effort hurt too. Because the Grandma Miriam I knew would let this sink in, snap back and then start being bossy.
She didn’t.
The visit went as well as it could. She wasn’t needy or whiney. She seemed in good spirits. She just wasn’t the woman I knew.
Though, she did have it in her to mutter, “Pleased to see you in a skirt and heels, child, though that skirt is a little tight.”
That was the only flicker of Grandma Miriam she gave me.
And this devastated me.
So much, I was virtually silent on the drive home. Gray asked if I was okay and when I lied to him that I was and he didn’t believe me, he let it go but asked for my hand and held it all the way home. I just sat in his truck staring at the passing landscape, letting the visit seep into me.
When we got home, I changed into jeans, got a glass of wine and went to the porch swing.
About two minutes later, carrying a bottle of beer, Gray joined me.
Shifting me then settling me with my back to the side of his front, his arm around my chest, my head on his shoulder, he murmured, “Talk to me, Ivey.”
“She isn’t her,” I whispered.
“Told you that, honey.”
He did. He’d never put her in a home if there was a little spitfire left, I knew that anyway. But still, he told me what to expect.
“You’re you and I’m me,” I went on to explain. “You’re thirty-three, still hot, still vital, still Gray and I’m still me. She’s not her.”
“Ivey –” he started but I interrupted him, tears gathering in my eyes.
“Whoever did this to us, they took that away from me. I got you back but her I lost. I know she declined, I just saw it but it was slow and I wasn’t here for her and now it’s done and I’ll never get that back. I got you back but I’ll never get that back and that hurts me, Gray. In the end, she liked me, she trusted me and she could have come to love me and I was already growing to love her. They took that away from her and they took that from me and it hurts.”
Gray drew in an audible breath as his arm gave me a squeeze but he didn’t reply.
Then again, there was nothing to say. I spoke the truth, he knew it and there was nothing either of us could do.
So I just lifted my legs, knees cocked so my soles were on the porch swing beside me, my weight in Gray and he held me and sipped his beer while I sipped my wine, My eyes were on the meadow beside his house where the horses were wandering, the tears I was shedding for losing Grandma Miriam silently rolling down my cheeks.
Thus visits to Grandma Miriam as often as I could were added to my schedule. I couldn’t go every day but since my first visit, I’d been there four times. I didn’t stay hours but I brought her flowers then a box of chocolates then a plant to spruce up her room then a book because she liked reading. I sat with her, I chatted with her, I held her delicate hand with its loose papery skin and liver spots. I tried to make her laugh and often got a smile. And I did this because the woman I knew for a short time who I liked and respected might be gone but this woman remained and I was going to give as much as I could and take as much as I could get in the time remaining.
And doing it, my decision to have it out with Gray’s uncles had been firm but it was then planted in concrete. Okay, so they may never pay Gray what I thought they owed him. But they’d get a piece of my mind.
I hadn’t yet done that because I knew I was so pissed I’d probably screw it up. And anyway, I had other stuff to do to look out for me, for Gray and settle in our new life together.
So there I was, wandering through the grocery store, our menus planned for the next several days, a grocery list resting on top of my purse and my cart filled with what we’d need.
Mustang’s grocery store, called Plack’s, was like everything else in Mustang. One town over, a town Gray told me was established about a decade after Mustang, was different. Mustang was day, that town, the town of Elk, was night. Mustang might be the county seat but Elk was the hub. They didn’t mind demolishing and rebuilding. They had two strip malls, a huge-ass cinema with six screens, massive home and do-it-yourself stores and two big, chain grocery stores.
But not Mustang. Mustang didn’t have anything like that. And the citizens of Mustang didn’t care. Except to use the cinema (where I’d gone with Gray when I was there before), Mustangians stuck to their patch. Thus everyone in Mustang went to Plack’s.
The hotel was on the southeast corner of the courthouse square, the elementary school at the southwest, the library at the northeast and Plack’s at the northwest.
It had not been built in 1912. By the looks of it, I’d guess the 70’s. And it had never been renovated. The building was small for a grocery store, the aisles were narrow and the shelves were packed. But, with increasing experience, I noticed they had everything. They might only have a couple of boxes of cake mix rather than a stacked row but they still had every type you could buy. Not that I got cake mixes. I was the stylish girlfriend to a rancher cowboy. I might wear high heels but I still baked cakes from scratch.
Seeing as they had everything you might need, you didn’t need a big chain store that also had a pharmacy and sold toys, homewares and inexpensive clothes if you had Plack’s. And anyway, the pharmacy was on the square and you could get toys, homewares and (it had to be said) not inexpensive clothes at Hayes.
So I was in Plack’s contentedly dwelling in my rancher cowboy’s stylish girlfriend zone, perusing the chiller cabinet cheese selection looking for crumbled bleu to put on the steaks I was going to be broiling that night when it happened.
I heard someone call, “Ivey.”
My head came up, my fingers around a package of bleu cheese (see? they had everything at Plack’s) and I saw Cecily in the company of a girlfriend bearing down on me.
Shit.
Gray and I had gone into town a couple of times to have a beer at The Rambler so I had the opportunity to get updated on gossip. Not to mention, being together for two weeks, Gray and I had time to talk with each other.
I knew what had happened to his trees. I knew what had happened to his horses. And I knew that Gray (rightly) suspected Buddy. And I knew this freaked me out but I sensed Gray needed me to keep it together. Someone was poisoning his horses; he didn’t need to worry about me.
I also knew that Buddy and Cecily got married about a year after I left. I further knew they had two children, both girls. And I knew that Buddy had gone from loan manager to branch manager and now he was Vice President of the four branches of the bank that were in the next county. So I knew (but had not seen) that Buddy and Cecily lived in a “God awful monstrosity” (Janie’s words) on the eastern outskirts of Mustang opposite Gray’s ranch. They lived large for Mustang and didn’t hesitate lording it over the entire town.
In other words, they weren’t popular…still.
Now I saw that I’d been right those years ago about what would befall the woman Bud Sharp took as wife.
Cecily had had six years of marriage and two children with Buddy Sharp but she didn’t settle into life, marriage and motherhood with any kind of security and definitely no contentment. She was ten pounds underweight and looked gaunt. Her hair was styled in a fashion that was becoming but trendy and I knew with one look it took her at least a half an hour with a roller brush and a hairdryer to pull it off. She was made up and her clothing very nice (not, I was gleeful to see, as nice as mine). But it didn’t suit her simply because she wore it with a desperation that I didn’t think she knew anyone could see but was obvious to me.
She worked out a lot, probably watched every morsel that passed her lips and likely never left her home without her fancy clothes, her hair done and her face put on.
She was either terrified Buddy would cheat on her or knew he already did and she was terrified he’d find one he liked better than her. He’d scrape her off, leave her high and dry with two kids and she’d spend the rest of her days in Mustang running into Buddy and her younger, prettier replacement.
I liked this. I knew liking it might make me a bitch but I also didn’t care.
And knowing all this with one look at Cecily who had a bitchy look on her face like she was preparing to crush me and was looking forward to it, I was ready for Cecily.
Then again, this was where being an ex-Vegas showgirl came in handy. Even if I didn’t know this about Cecily, I’d still be ready.
“Heard you were back,” she stated, her, her girlfriend who was weirdly avoiding looking at me and her cart coming abreast of me.
“Yup,” I stated the obvious.
She did a head-to-toe with sneer on her face that she didn’t have it in her to commit to because she couldn’t quite bite back the envy.
Then her eyes came back to me. “Nice shoes,” she drawled and I kicked back a foot and rounded an ankle.
“Thanks, my ex-lover bought them for me. I love them,” I replied chirpily.
“Gray’s not gonna be able to keep you stocked in eight hundred dollar shoes,” she remarked, still sneering.
Yes. Envy. She knew exactly how much they cost and she didn’t have anything like them because Buddy might be a bank VP but he was no millionaire like Lash.
I grinned. “That’s okay. I have, like, a hundred pairs. I think that’ll last me awhile.”
Red started creeping up her cheeks and I glanced at her friend who was still strangely avoiding my eyes.
Weird.
My attention went back to Cecily when she crossed her arms on her chest.
I’d scored two points and, still, she was settling in.
Shit.
“Sure no one has told you but you should know, Gray’s been busy while you’ve been gone.
Very
busy.”
Bitch.
I knew what she meant, it couldn’t be missed.
Gray had had women after me.
It sucked but I knew that Gray hadn’t remained blindly devoted to the memory of me even while thinking I’d never be back. Cecily was right no one had mentioned it, including Gray. And I was glad he didn’t because I didn’t want to go there. He was a man, all man and no way he would remain celibate, devoted to his hand like I was to my vibrator. I made the decision I made not to put myself out there again. Gray had needs, needs he’d see to and I didn’t know if in quenching them he’d attempted to open his heart and make a go with someone else.
What I did know was that even if he did, he didn’t succeed so when I came back, he was available for me.
And that was all I needed to know.
“I find it fascinating that, twice, I’ve been in your company and, twice, you’ve felt it’s your duty to inform me about Gray and the women in his life. All this while, back then and still now, you’re with Buddy. I mean, obviously, since he’s giving it to me and I like it…
a lot,
” I leaned in on those last two words to add meaningful and deserved emphasis, “I know how good he is. But you, a married lady, all this attention to my man? My guess is, you liked it a lot too and you miss it. What? Does Buddy not do it for you? Have you been pining for over seven years for Grayson Cody?”