The Reluctant Cowgirl (16 page)

Is Miss Crystal asleep?” Beka’s voice rang out loud in the quiet truck cab.

“Yes, she is,” Jeremy whispered and put his finger to his lips.

“No, she’s not,” Crystal mumbled. “I’m just resting my eyes.” Her voice drifted off.

He chuckled. Obviously exhausted, Crystal was still a fighter. One of many things he’d grown to love about her. The laughter died on his lips. Love? He looked across the seat at her, her face glowing with childlike innocence as she slept.

She’d come into his life like a whirlwind and turned everything upside down. Now she was never far from his thoughts, and he’d do anything for her. But what made him think she was any different than Lindsey in the stability department? When he’d found her by the river, it was because she’d left New York upset and decided to come home on the spur of the minute. Then she’d canceled lunch Sunday without an explanation and flown off to New York. He couldn’t help but wonder what that had been about.

He lifted his eyes to the mirror where he could see Beka looking at a picture book. He had a precious responsibility in the backseat. His heart was no longer his own to give without consideration of that. And when he gave it—if he gave it—it would be to someone he knew would help him provide Beka with the love and security she deserved.

He prayed silently until they reached the Shady Grove city limits. Ultimately he knew there was only One who could give Beka security. So Jeremy asked for wisdom.

“You look like you’ve got something serious on your mind.” Crystal’s sleepy voice startled him just as they entered town.

He glanced in the mirror. Now Beka was the one zonked out. “Just thinking.”

“I did a lot of that on the plane trip home.”

“Really?” He kept his gaze on the road and strove for casual. “About what happened in New York?”

There was no mirth in her drowsy chuckle. “What happened in New York? You mean watching my dream die on the vine?” She laid her head against the seat and closed her eyes again.

“What was it? Some kind of audition?” He knew he shouldn’t keep pushing. But if he was going to protect his heart—and ultimately Beka—from history repeating itself, he felt like he had to.

She blinked her eyes several times then nodded slowly. “Possibly my last audition. And suffice it to say, it didn’t go well.”

“You’re giving up acting?”

She shrugged. “I’m thinking seriously about it.”

The raw pain in her voice kept him from feeling any pleasure. “I’m sorry, Crys. That must be tough.”

She sat up straight and rubbed her hand across her face. “It’s my decision.”

“I’ll be praying you make the right one.”

She mumbled something he didn’t catch.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Thanks for your prayers. I need them.”

He could sense her defeat and it hurt. “Sometimes dreams just need to be redefined.”

She looked over at him. “What about you? What’s your dream?”

He shrugged. “When I was growing up in south Arkansas, Dad worked in a factory. Everybody assumed I’d work there, too, when I got out of school. But Dad and I wanted to own a cattle ranch. He socked away every cent he could save. And when I got out of high school, I went to college to get an agri/business degree. Dad and I went over the things I learned together.”

“Then they discovered natural gas on your land...”

He nodded. “And we were able to go ahead with our plan a little sooner than we’d thought.”

“That’s really cool.”

They rode in silence for a half mile or so, then Crystal shifted around in her seat to face him. “Let me ask you a question.”

He glanced over at her. “Okay.”

“What if your dad had changed his mind and decided to retire to Florida? Or died?” Her voice grew soft. “Would you still have bought a ranch?”

He stared out at the road, searching for an honest answer. “You know, it’s impossible to say what we’d do in a situation until we’re in it, but I think so. We’re just two people who happen to have the same dream. Sharing it is a bonus but not a necessity.” He looked at her. Was she thinking of her and her sister and their joint dream to go to Broadway? Was that why she wanted to quit? Because she felt guilty for doing what her sister wasn’t here to do?

“I guess if Dad changed his mind, that’s when my dream would have to be redefined. Instead of the two of us owning ranches side by side, I’d have to concentrate on my own love of the outdoors and of cattle in particular.” He grinned. “I’d learn to be the Lone Rancher.”

She groaned. “That was bad.” But her lips tilted back up into a smile as they turned off the highway onto the gravel road.

When he pulled up in front of the ranch house, he jumped out and lifted her bags out of the back.

She walked up on the porch and unlocked the door. “You can just set the bags inside the door. I’ll get them later.”

He started to argue but he hated to leave Beka asleep in the truck. One of the repercussions of the kidnapping—even though Lindsey was dead and he knew the McCord ranch was a safe place—he panicked when Beka wasn’t in his sight. Hopefully that would pass with a little time. He set the bags down and stepped back onto the porch.

Crystal’s smile was bleak as she turned to face him. “Thanks again. For everything.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss away her sadness. But he had just prayed for wisdom. And he knew that wouldn’t be wise right now.

For either of them.

The music woke her from a dream where the last curtain had fallen but the orchestra wouldn’t quit playing. She rolled over and felt around on the floor by the sofa until her hand closed around the phone. “Hello.”

“Crystal?” The tender concern in Jeremy’s voice sent shivers down her spine. “Are you okay? Did you get a nap?”

“Yes. I guess I was so tired I fell asleep on the sofa.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “I’m wide awake now though. What’s up?”

“Beka and I were wondering if you were hungry.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “She fixed tuna salad sandwiches and thought you might like us to bring you one.”

“That sounds wonderful. Tell her I’d love one.” Crystal stuck her feet into her sandals. “Bring yours, too, if you haven’t eaten, and we’ll eat together.”

“Sounds perfect. We’ll be right over.”

She hurried to the bathroom, washed her face, and put her hair up in a ponytail. At least she didn’t look as tired as she had earlier.

Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang and she rushed to answer it.

Jeremy had his hands on Beka’s shoulders. Beka, wearing a white apron with CHEF emblazoned on the front of it, grinned broadly and held up a plate of sandwiches. “I made these myself.”

Crystal stepped back and Beka sashayed by her, heading to the kitchen as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her. “Don’t come in yet,” she called over her shoulder.

Jeremy gave Crystal a rueful grin and shrugged. “She has a plan.”

Crystal raised her eyebrow. “That’s what I like. A girl with a plan.”

“She insisted on my calling her ‘miss’ after she put on the apron.”

Crystal almost laughed at the confusion on his face. “She’s playing my two favorite games. Pretend and dress up.”

He leaned around as if he could see through the crack of the kitchen door. “Do you think we should check on her?”

“Nope. I think she’s just fine.”

A minute later, the kitchen door swung open and Beka motioned them in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She held up a small notepad and pencil Crystal recognized as the ones they kept by the phone. “Have a seat. Here’s a menu.” She handed them a sheet torn from the notepad. It said “MENU,” then a few lines down it said “TUNA SALUD.” The
S
was backward. Under that it said “TEE.”

Jeremy pulled Crystal’s chair out at the tiny corner table where they’d shared her mama’s beef stew a few weeks ago. She sat and he walked around and sat across from her.

“Miss,” Crystal waved her hand in the air.

Beka jogged over to the table. “Yes?”

“I have a question about this wonderful menu.”

A little grin teased at the corners of Beka’s mouth, but she lifted her nose into the air. “What is it?”

“Is the tuna good?”

Beka considered her for a second. “Oh yes, ma’am. It was made by a world-famous chef.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Crystal put her hand to her face and looked at Jeremy. “We should truly be honored.”

He grinned. “I’d say we are.” He looked at Beka. “Aren’t you going to sit down, honey?”

Beka gave him a stern look. “Waitresses don’t eat with the customers.” Quick switch to big smile. “Now”—she waved the notepad and pen—“what do you want to eat?”

Crystal studied the menu. “Okay, miss. I’ll have a tuna sandwich.”

Beka giggled but wrote on her pad. “Sir?”

“Hmm, I’ll have the same.” A mischievous grin flitted across Jeremy’s face as he entered into the spirit of the game. “And may I have some potato chips with that, miss?”

“That’s not on the men—”

He pointed to the chips on the counter.

She put her hand to her forehead in an “oh, duh, silly me” motion so reminiscent of Jeremy that Crystal couldn’t keep from chuckling.

“Yes, you may have chips.” Beka scribbled on the paper. “What would you like to drink?”

“Tea.” They both answered at the same time.

“Good.”

Beka tore off four paper towels and spread one carefully in front of Jeremy and one like so in front of Crystal and gave each of them one to hold. Then she brought the plate of sandwiches over to the small table and set it down. She put one sandwich on each paper towel in front of her “customers.” “There.”

Crystal was enthralled watching Beka, memories flooding in of doing this very thing in this very kitchen. Except her parents had two waitresses.

Beka carefully poured their tea into the plastic disposable cups kept on the counter for easy access.

Crystal bit back a gasp as the liquid sloshed dangerously close to spilling once, but every drop stayed contained.

Jeremy wiped his brow with the back of his hand in mock relief when he was sure Beka couldn’t see him.

Beka set their plastic cups in front of them and stood back. “Oh, chips.”

She hurried to the counter, retrieved the bag of chips, and brought it over.

“Thank you so much, miss. This is a lovely place you have here.” Crystal took a sip of her tea, holding her pinky finger extended. “I’ll have to tell all my friends.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Beka swept away, her head held high.

“You really get into this, don’t you?” Jeremy murmured.

Crystal shushed him. “You can’t play pretend halfheartedly.”

“Miss?” Jeremy called.

Beka turned back toward him.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit at our table and eat with us?”

Beka put her nose in the air. “Sir, I told you, waitresses don’t eat with their customers.”

Jeremy covered his grin with his napkin. “Oh. I see.” He pointed to a stool at the counter. “I guess that’s where waitresses eat, right?”

Beka looked where he was pointing, put her finger to her chin, and tapped it. “Yes,” she said decisively. “That’s the waitress spot.”

After Beka was settled in at the “waitress spot” with her food, Jeremy glanced at Crystal. “Is it okay if I offer thanks for the food?”

Crystal nodded.

He said a short prayer for the food, and at the end he asked God to “Bless the hands that prepared it.”

When he said, “Amen,” Crystal looked up at him with a grin. “Think she noticed?” she asked in a low voice.

“And bless me,” Beka said happily.

Jeremy grinned. “She doesn’t miss a trick.”

“Miss, this tuna is delicious,” Crystal said.

Beka stopped eating and looked over at her. “Thank you, ma’am.”

When they’d all finished, Crystal looked out the window. It was another hour at least until dark. She glanced over at Jeremy. “Do y’all have time to go for a walk?”

Jeremy looked pleased. “Sure.”

Crystal smiled at Beka. “Beka, let’s walk out to the barn. I want to show you something.”

Beka slipped her apron off and walked over to Crystal. “What is it?”

“You’ll see when we get out there.”

All the way out to the pole barn, Beka peppered Crystal with questions. “Is it big?” was followed quickly by “Is it tiny?”

Crystal shook her head and stepped to the side of the door to switch the outside breaker on. They kept the electricity turned off when they weren’t using this barn. Which was most of the time now.

She pulled on the rectangular wooden button, and the big door creaked open.

“Is it an animal?” Beka’s voice was quiet. She slipped her hand into Jeremy’s.

Crystal laughed. “No. No animals in this barn. Although my daddy used to say we sounded like laughing hyenas sometimes.”

As they walked into the dusty barn, just like Crystal had the day of the private meeting, she imagined the McCord Players up on the stage acting their hearts out. They’d had so much fun here.

“What is this place?” Beka whispered.

“It’s a theater my daddy built for my sister and me when we were not much older than you.” Crystal pointed toward the stage. “We’d get up there and pretend to be anything you can think of.” She hurried over to a closet in the corner, next to the bathroom. When she opened the door, she spied the big trunk of costumes in the corner, but the smell of moth balls propelled her backward. She turned to Jeremy and Crystal. “We’ll let this air out a little while I show you the stage.” She left the door ajar and led the way up to the stage.

“You’ll get dusty,” she warned.

Jeremy ruffled Beka’s hair. “We’ll wash, won’t we, Little Bit?”

Beka nodded and bounded up the steps and onto the stage. She pranced from one end to the other, giggling all the way. “Miss Crystal, watch this.” She jumped up in the air and spun around. “I’m a ballerina.”

Crystal and Jeremy clapped.

“You come play.” Beka motioned to them.

Jeremy grinned at Crystal. “You should feel right at home up there, but I don’t remember the last time I was on stage.” He stepped back and let her go up the short stairs ahead of him. “Probably graduation.”