Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 (9 page)

“A guy can hope.” He kept his tone light to hide his disappointment, knowing he had
no right to jump to a conclusion like that. Although half the town was jumping to
their own conclusions once they figured out Liv drove to the Double M daily to care
for a horse.

“Just because I burned supper—”

“The evidence of which lingers still.” He breathed through his nose and made a face
to tease her. “You might want to wash the curtains before the family gets home tomorrow.
Or open some more windows. And an extra door or two.”

“It’s not that bad.”

It was, but he wasn’t going to waste precious time with her arguing about burned pork
chops. And potatoes. And—

“I figured I’d be fine using the old gas burner when the storm knocked the electricity
out,” Liv continued as she moved toward his truck. “Let me just say, those old propane
burners can really torque.”

“A lesson learned.” He climbed into the truck and nodded toward town. “Wanna head
down to Great Gulch Grub?”

“Not on your life,” she muttered as she fastened her seat belt with a firmer-than-needed
click!
“Half the folks in town are already buying us wedding presents, it’s ridiculous.
Lilibeth Shoemaker even suggested we could tie the knot with the rest of the crazies
at the Old Tyme Wedding the council dreamed up for October. As if something as sacred
as a wedding should be done with fifty couples gathered around a tent. Foolish talk,
don’t you think?”

The thought of Livvie in a white gown and veil, looking up at him, promising him the
forever he jerked out from under her years ago?

The whole thing didn’t sound crazy at all; in fact, it sounded pretty darn good, but
he’d promised himself to go slow, even though the town seemed determined to go fast.
“Let’s grab burgers in Ennis, then. I can check out the spot where Coach wants to
practice. See if today’s thunderstorm did any damage to the field.”

“Ennis is good. We won’t know a soul in Ennis.”

* * *

“Liv! Jack! How nice to see you two! Mert, do you see who just came in? It’s Liv and
Jack!”

Mert’s gaze brightened, but she put a calming hand on her aging grandmother’s shoulder.
“So it is, Granny. Working tonight, folks?”

Mert had given them an out, and for a town gossip whose job gave her proximity to
most everything that went on, Mert was going out of her way to cut them some slack.
Liv appreciated the gesture. “We’re figuring out the last of the details for the Old-timers’
Baseball Game, but we lost electric at my house.”

“Us, too!” Granny nodded agreement and thumped her cane. “That’s why we came over
this way, in case they hadn’t gotten it back in the Gulch. If half the folks are still
without power, Great Gulch Grub will be standing room only and I wasn’t about to mess
with that. And Mert’s been on her feet all day.”

“Well, ours came on just before we left to come here,” Liv told the older woman, “so
things should be back to normal by the time we all get back home. And, Granny, I had
some of your rice pudding the other day. Two helpings, actually.” She couldn’t help
slanting a smile up at Jack. “It was delicious, as always.”

“I’m so glad.” The old lady sent Liv a precious smile, but then her gaze rosied up
as she peeked over Liv’s shoulder. “Rusty. Good evening.”

“Mert. Clarabelle.” The ninety-some-odd voice of wisdom in Jasper Gulch smiled at
the two women, then turned toward Jack and Livvie. “We ready for that meetin’?”

Granny’s face fell.

Mert’s did, too, as if she was really, truly hoping for something long-lasting and
good to come out of this reunion story, but she left the topic alone. “We’re done,
so we’ll leave you guys to get the game details sorted out. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

Jack tipped his hat, then removed it as they found a seat. Rusty sat with them until
the door had long since closed on Mert and her granny, then he stood, and smiled as
he started to walk away.

“Rusty. Where you headin’ off to?”

“Two’s company.” The old man waggled two bushy eyebrows in their direction. “We ain’t
got no meetin’, in case you forgot. I’ll grab a seat at the counter.”

“Come back and sit right here,” Liv scolded. “We are having a meeting to finish up
details, so it’s perfect timing.”

“More perfect without an old man around, I’d say.”

“Nonsense.” Jack stood and pulled out the chair Rusty had vacated. “Sit and eat with
us. Let’s nail this thing down once and for all. I’ve got a ranch to run.”

“And batting practice, I hear.”

“You saw Coach.”

Rusty nodded. “Ayuh.”

“I figured it was time to grow up. Finally. At long last. Just took me a good while
to see things in the right light.”

“Well, here’s hopin’ it don’t take you all that long to figure other things out, boy.”
He sent Livvie an innocent look that made her laugh. “Time’s a-wastin’ and ain’t no
tellin’ how much the Good Lord’s givin’. Which is why I’m ordering dessert for supper
tonight. Because at my age, it’s not about breaking the rules, it’s about which rule
to break first.”

“Order what you want, it’s on me,” Jack replied.

“But—” Liv turned his way, knowing she should buy dinner. Her burned food? Her bad,
100 percent.

“Buying dinner is the least I can do when you guys have jumped in to help me get this
game organized. Trust me.” Jack handed her a menu the quick-stepped hostess dropped
off. “It wouldn’t be this far along, or this well-put-together if I was doing it on
my own. And I can guarantee you it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”

“In that case—” Rusty grabbed up his menu and grinned “—I’m getting two desserts.
One for now and one to take home for later.”

“Two desserts.” Liv made a face at the tall, aging wrangler. “When you’re skimming
five foot one you have to weigh up the thought of one dessert, much less two. I envy
you, Rusty.”

“Ach.” He reached over and patted her hand. “I’ve had nearly twenty years alone, Miss
Livvie. That’s a long time to miss someone, so my advice to you is to live the life
God intended and if something comes along to change that? Well, then you can treat
yourself to that extra dessert. But right now there’s too much life ahead and I’d
say it’s ’bout time folks grab the reins and hold on for a sweet ride. Because life’s
not about gettin’ there in quick time. It’s about the bends in the road.”

“‘Two roads diverged in a yellow wood...’”

“That Mr. Frost, he was a right smart man,” Rusty allowed.

Liv sighed inside. Outward, she smiled. “Well, he’s got nothing on you, Rusty.”

Her words pleased him. He grinned and she knew their entire town would rue the day
when Rustyisms were nothing but a memory, but oh! What a wealth of memories the old
sage offered.

“I thank you, Liv. And here’s to us and this game.” He raised his glass-bottled soda
and toasted their small group. “To a great day and a great game, may the Lord be praised.”

She clinked bottles with both of them, and realized the burned dinner had offered
her a personal road less traveled, a chance to hang out in Ennis with Rusty. With
Jack. To see Mert’s gentle concern overtake her urge to gossip.

Right now her broken road didn’t seem all that difficult after all.

Chapter Eight

L
iv stood when Jackson Shaw called out her name the following evening. “Mr. Mayor,
councilmen and women—we have a problem.”

“How so?” The mayor arched an eyebrow. Others followed suit.

“There are gaps in our town history.”

“Gaps?” Councilman Sam Douglas leaned forward. “As in?”

“Holes. Unfilled spots. Places where historical reference to Jasper Gulch may or may
not have been deliberately altered.”

“Ridiculous.” Jackson’s doubtful expression said she’d messed up her research. Liv
knew that wasn’t the case.

“I thought so, too, at first.” Liv stressed the time reference. “But when two different
modes of research turned up the same empty spaces in time, I realized the likelihood
was more than coincidental. So then I delved further.”

Was it her imagination or did the mayor squirm in his seat? Of course, the heat and
humidity might have been the reason. Still...

“Olivia, where exactly are these gaps?” Rosemary Middleton leaned back in her chair,
openly curious.

“The first occurs around the time of the original settlement, when the town is first
being established as Beaver Creek Settlement. The name wasn’t changed to the present
name for nearly fifteen years. In those early years, there is a notable missing chunk
about the Massey family—”

“The original cofounding family who came here with the Shaws,” Chauncey Hardman reminded
everyone.

“Right.” Liv smiled over at her. “So there’s my first gap, and the second one is around
the time of Lucy Shaw’s accident.”

“Young lady.”

Jackson’s tone of voice straightened Liv’s shoulders and made the hairs along the
nape of her neck rise. “Yes, Mr. Shaw?”

The fact that she didn’t use the polite “Mr. Mayor” term made Jackson draw himself
up taller in his seat. “When an entire town is grieving the loss of one of its most
accomplished citizens, the thought of jotting down notes for later reference probably
goes by the wayside in favor of prayer.”

Liv met his gaze firmly. “In truth,
more
people are likely to journal, jot and reminisce in times of hardship and sorrow,
Mr. Shaw. Throughout history, that’s when the bulk of our interwoven pasts have been
recorded. Few people take the time to record the mundane, but the sensational always
has its day. Having said that—” she paused, making eye contact with the group as a
whole because she could see Jackson wasn’t one bit pleased with her report “—I could
use a place to continue my research. I’ve been using the library, and Robin Frazier
has agreed to share her genealogical research study with me if we can work together,
but at the moment we’re stymied by lack of space and the need to be quiet. My parents’
house is no longer an option because my grandparents arrived today from Michigan.”

“And our prayers are with your family, Liv,” Rosemary cut in. Her sympathetic expression
was reflected across the six-member council. Despite some small-town problems, when
the going got tough for anyone in Jasper Gulch, folks gathered around to help. “If
there’s anything we can do, you let us know.”

Rosemary’s sentiments were echoed throughout the room, and the feeling of warmth that
had stolen through Liv the night before reblossomed under the quiet outpouring of
support. “We appreciate that more than you know. Grandma is an avid knitter, so if
she could join in the knitting group, that would give her a chance to get to know
folks.” She didn’t add that it would also give her grandmother a breather from Grandpa’s
elder care. The looks of acceptance said most people here understood more than she
did about Alzheimer’s. “Robin is here.” She motioned for Robin to stand beside her.
“And if we could have a spot where we could share information, that would be in everyone’s
best interests.”

“We must have a room these gals can use.” An upriver cowboy Liv didn’t recognize tipped
back in his chair a few seats to her left. “Couldn’t they use this room during the
day? The council only meets on Tuesday nights.”

“This room is reserved for possible court dealings,” Jackson retorted. “We can’t be
clearing it of old news and artifacts every time we need to process something or someone.”

“The five times a year that happens don’t seem like such a big deal to me, but then,
I’m a country boy.” The rancher met Jackson’s glare with a look that said the mayor
was being obtuse. Liv couldn’t disagree. “But I’m sure that somewhere in this antiquated
building there’s a spot for these two lovely young ladies to set up shop. You can’t
hire someone to do a job then expect them to do it on a park bench, Jackson.”

Liv drew a breath. No one called the mayor by his first name during a meeting, ever.
Jackson ground his teeth, worked his jaw, then shrugged. “You have a point. We’ll
have something ready for you women tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

The entire board looked miffed and puzzled, as if questioning why Jackson had treated
the issue in such a gruff manner, but Liv wasn’t interested in the politics of the
situation. She just wanted a spot to work where she wouldn’t be in her parents’ or
grandparents’ way and where she and Robin could share thoughts or ideas for the next
few weeks.

As she sat down, her phone buzzed an incoming email from Montana State University
accepting her application for employment and wanting to set up an interview ASAP.

Her heart chugged. Her legs turned to stone.

Here was an opportunity she’d been waiting for, a chance to begin a new life, the
life of a single professor, living in genteel circumstances along the university boulevards.
A few weeks in Jasper Gulch had her rethinking this option completely.

The mayor’s demeaning attitude had her fighting mad, so she shelved the email and
walked outside with Robin.

“What was that all about?”

“You mean Jackson’s attitude?” When Robin nodded, Livvie shrugged. “I have no idea.
Jackson’s always had a bee in his bonnet over being the best of this, that and the
other thing. He’s not one of my favorite townspeople, but the Shaw name has gotten
him reelected multiple times.”

“Money talks.”

“Even when it shouldn’t,” Liv agreed. “But he’s got a nice wife who balances things
out, for the most part, and his kids are solid. But that—” she hooked a thumb in the
direction of the meeting room “—is the reason I limit my dealings with him. And maybe
with this whole bridge-reopening drama and disagreement, someone more forward-thinking
will win the next election and we’ll see changes made.”

“You want this changed?” Robin swept the town a look that said she liked things old
and rustic. “I think it’s charming.”

“Charming doesn’t give us quick access to medical treatment. Isn’t it silly to have
only one road that leads toward an interstate? Especially when folks have to travel
far for good care? There’s nothing too radical about a good transportation system.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Robin’s expression said it might be worth the trade-off.
“Still, I think the warmth and welcome Jasper Gulch offers is worth a little sacrifice.
Although fixing the bridge to head south more easily really does make sense. The idea
of keeping it closed in memoriam is really kind of strange, isn’t it? After all these
years? And then putting the new museum on a dead-end road that ends in a broken bridge?
I don’t get the sense in that at all.”

Liv sent a grim look north and shook her head. “Me neither.”

* * *

“I don’t know how a room can smell musty in mid-August, but this one does.” Liv pushed
open the door to the small, windowless room and waved Robin in the next morning. “Here’s
where we’re working for the duration.”

Robin’s mouth opened. “It’s a closet.”

“Yup.”

Robin turned toward Liv and her expression deepened. “I’m not being metaphorical.
It’s really a closet.”

“They hauled the maintenance stuff out just this morning, hence the lingering scent
of the musty mop bucket.” Liv moved to the far end of the narrow space and set up
her laptop near an outlet. “Here’s my corner. At least we’re not far from the library
and if we listen close, we can hear the sounds of construction for the new museum.”

“We could if there was a window.” Robin stared around, then frowned at Liv. “You’re
really okay with this?”

“Since our options are limited, I’m okay with it for now,” Liv answered. “I’m not
sure if this is Jackson’s own personal reprimand because we asked for space last night
or if it’s truly the only corner they could find. My guess is the former, but right
now I feel like calling his bluff and pretending it’s the greatest work spot in the
world. Nothing like honey to sweeten the moment, right?”

“Hey.” Robin sank into the second chair once she settled her computer at the near
corner of the table. “There’s a bakery to our left and a café across the street. Color
me happy.”

“Speaking of which...”

Both girls turned.

Jack strode in carrying a drinks tray with two coffees and a white paper bag. “Coffee
and pastries to celebrate your new closet.”

“Mock us all you want, cowboy, at least we’ve got a spot.”

“Of a sort.” He set down the tray and the bag, crossed his arms, swept the room an
amused look and grinned. “I left the coffees black, but your fixin’s are alongside.
And I’ve got to pick up a part for Dad’s truck and get back to the upper pasture,
so I can’t stay, but I heard about this while I was grabbing coffee and figured you
girls could use a lift.”

Robin reached for her cup and sighed. “The closet has just been upgraded to a small
French bistro. Well done, Jack. But how’d you know I like coffee?”

“Liv said you two were simpatico. After I looked up what it meant, I figured you must
like coffee and old stuff. I understand the coffee addiction.” He smiled at Liv and
gave her a shoulder nudge with his upper arm. “The ancient history research stuff?
That’s a mystery to me.”

“If we don’t learn from the mistakes of the past, we are destined to repeat them.”

“George Santayana in slightly butchered fashion,” Robin said and laughed.

“Well, I’m leaving you ladies and your history and this George guy to do whatever
it is you’re doing. Are you taking your grandma to the knitting group tonight?” Jack
shifted his gaze down to Liv.

Should her heart speed up like this? Wasn’t a racing pulse dangerous to her health?
And the rising warmth meant she was blushing. How ridiculous was that, a thirty-year-old
woman blushing? She nodded, unwilling to show her nerves by attempting words.

“Good. I’ll swing by tonight and treat you and your grandmother to ice cream. I bet
she’d like that.”

“It’ll be late and you have to get up early.”

“A little sleep loss is no big deal when you get to take a pretty girl out for a cone.
Shame on me if I didn’t realize the worth in that trade.”

“Okay.”

For the life of her, she couldn’t put him off, even though that’s exactly what she
should do. Part of her wished he wouldn’t leave, while the other struggled for distance.
He put one big, broad hand against her cheek, a fleeting touch but strong. Calming.
Masculine. Then he nodded to Robin, turned and went out the door. A light whistle
sounded as the distance between them increased, a quick-paced tune that sounded grounded,
happy and focused all at once.

Kind of like Jack’s father had seemed the week before.

“On a scale of one to ten, one being ho-hum and ten being ‘why-isn’t-he-on-TV?’ gorgeous,
your cowboy is a ranking fifteen. And I’m not prone to exaggeration.” Robin’s expression
underscored her words. “The guy is to-die-for good-looking, sweet and willing to sacrifice
sleep to see you tonight. If you’re not interested, feel free to step aside. I could
learn to love ranching like this.” She snapped her fingers, laughed at the look Liv
shot her, then raised her hands, palms out. “Okay, okay, I get the message. He’s off-limits,
even if you’re not as sure about that as you should be. But what a sweetheart, Liv.”

He was a sweetheart now.

Liv recognized that. But was she smitten because it was Jack and old feelings mushroomed
whenever he was around? Or did being recently stung by divorce play into this? And
was she mentally and emotionally ready to dive into the waters of romance?

No.

Was that normal?

She sure hoped so, because therapy wasn’t readily available in Jasper Gulch, Montana.

Church bells interrupted her just then, a warm noise, a reminder of times past.

She’d forgotten that Mountainview rang sweet hymns now and then throughout the day.
The quaint custom came back to her as she keyed the City Hall Wi-Fi password into
her laptop. She’d grown up hearing that carillon tone in grade school, old songs of
praise and patriotism. The sound of home, grace, apple pie and dusty trails.

Her heart stretched open, remembering. As she entered the key words for the familiar
research site, her email dinged, reminding her of the message she’d received the night
before. The possibility of an assistant professorship, sixty minutes away. Closer
than she’d been, but not an easy winter’s drive.

She needed a job. She needed a new start. But her mother could use her help right
here, in Jasper Gulch. Stay? Go?

How about pray?

She stared at the computer screen, seeing nothing, as the old tune ebbed from the
bell tower.

Nothing wrong with praying, is there? You used to pray often. Then you kind of drifted
away
.

She had drifted. She’d pretty much shrugged off faith and prayer when Jack dumped
her. She’d done an abrupt about-face and hadn’t given God much of a chance since.

And then she had the nerve to get mad at God all over again when Billy announced his
plans for a quick divorce.

God’s fault? Or free will and human choice?

She sighed inside, beginning to see that maybe she wasn’t innocent in all of this.
She’d made choices, too, and maybe her decisions had influenced others.