Читать книгу Wander Canyon Courtship - Allie Pleiter - Страница 18

Cecil gave a low howl as he wobbled around the cabin’s little kitchen.

“I hear you, buddy.” Chaz frowned at the sad mug of instant coffee produced from the bottle he found in the cupboards. He dumped sugar into it and tried not to think of the much better coffee Yvonne must be brewing at Bliss Bakery. She made fabulous coffee. He took another sip and grimaced, thinking he’d had better from gas station vending machines. Still, caffeine was caffeine, and he needed it in any form. “At least you’ve got chow.” He poured the packet of kibble out and set it down next to the bowl of water he’d just refilled. “Eat up. I’ll head out and get some better stuff and gear in a bit.”

Big grateful eyes looked up at him before Cecil ducked his nose into the food and began chewing noisily. Chaz considered the dog again, still a bit dumfounded he’d done what he’d done. I own a dog. One I’ve got to figure out how to get back to Wander. What just happened?

It struck Chaz that he’d found reason to ask that particular question often since being in Matrimony Valley. Right now he didn’t have strong enough coffee to answer it. He wasn’t sure strong enough coffee to answer that question even existed.

Cecil’s 8:00 a.m. appointment with Dr. Mullins was in fifteen minutes, enough time for even Cecil’s limping, comical gait to make it the three blocks to Puppy Love Veterinary Care. Honestly. The name made Chaz cringe more than the terrible coffee.

The whole town’s romance gimmick stumped him. Yvonne and even Bruce Lohan had told him how Mayor Jean had forgone her family’s name to rechristen Matrim’s Valley to Matrimony Valley in order to bring it back to life. It was an admirable—and clearly successful—idea, but too cheesy for him. Was Yvonne’s cheerful, energetic personality fueled by living in such a constant state of hearts and flowers? Or could only someone with her outlook tolerate living here? And what was driving his curiosity about her, anyway?

Cecil wolfed down the last of his food, licking his chops with a satisfied slurp. Chaz downed the last of his coffee with nowhere near such enthusiasm, then slipped the makeshift leash over the dog’s head and grabbed the cabin keys off the counter. “Off we go.”

He took note—again—of the romance-themed business names as he and Cecil made their way down Aisle Avenue. There was a Love in Bloom Flower Shop, and a Sweet Hearts Ice Cream Parlor, among others. Even the fishing outfitters he’d visited yesterday was called Catch Your Match, and, of course, the place where he’d been staying until last night was called Hailey’s Inn Love.

The only store to evade a gooey name was Watson’s Diner, which smelled delicious enough to make his stomach growl as he walked past. A hand-lettered sign gave him the welcome news that $3.99 would buy him two eggs, toast and coffee. The words No Takeout in red letters underneath, however, warned him it would have to wait. “I might need to head over there after we get you squared away,” he told Cecil.

He’d give the town one thing: it was quiet and beautiful early in the morning. The mist hadn’t yet burned off the mountainside, and the hints of spectacular fall colors were just starting to show.

He tried to ignore the fact that Yvonne’s shop was already open. He told himself the urge to stop in was just because she would probably welcome Cecil inside for a minute while he got some great coffee and a doughnut.

It certainly couldn’t be because of how he kept recalling her wide, frightened eyes those first few moments after the crash. Or the heartsick, mewling sound she’d made when they first came upon injured Cecil. Most of all, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the warm, baffled look of surprise she gave him when he declared Cecil was coming home with him. What just happened? indeed.

Dr. Mullins was a nice enough guy, friendly and supportive of Chaz’s impulsive dog acquisition. “Good-looking animal,” he said, running his hands over the dog. “Underfed, so I expect he’ll be grateful to you. And loyal.”

Loyal. Now, there was a word that stuck in Chaz’s throat this morning.

“I want to draw some blood, take another X-ray, give him a thorough once-over and put a microchip in.” Mullins flipped a page on his clipboard. “Let me keep him for an hour or two. You look like you could use breakfast and coffee. You probably passed Watson’s. Wanda fries up a good egg.”

Chaz gave Cecil a good pat. “I’ll swing back for you in a bit.” He took the wag of Cecil’s tail as a sign of cooperation and promptly headed into Watson’s Diner to wolf down a breakfast of his own.

Chaz devoured his food, bought a leash, collar and feeding bowls from the Have N Hold Home and Garden store, and then stared across the street. It was time to face Dad.

* * *

Yvonne stared out the window at Chaz. He was standing on the sidewalk, staring at the inn. Even from here, she could see his clenched fists.

She and Mama didn’t really get along, but it had never been anything on the scale of what she’d seen last night. Mama never really voiced her vague disappointment. It just sort of leaked out.

She loved Janice and Rita, but Mama’s boasts about how well they were doing had begun to bother Yvonne. She was ashamed at how tales of their shiny, admirable families and their successful husbands grated on her. I chose to stay here. I love the valley and these people. I’m not sorry I didn’t marry Neal, and I’m not incomplete just because I’m still alone. How is it Mama and my sisters can make me feel as if I’ve been left behind?

She couldn’t yet explain the unfamiliar need to do something else, go somewhere new. It made no sense given Bliss Bakery’s moderate success. Still, the thought of gearing up next spring for another wedding season left her feeling weary rather than excited. And, when she was honest, entirely too single.

Was that why Chaz managed to capture her attention? Yvonne watched Chaz’s tall frame square itself for father-and-son battle. He looked strong and stomped on at the same time.

God, bless that curmudgeon and his new dog. The prayer surprised her. Pauline was a woman of faith and would never marry Hank if he wasn’t, as well. Did that mean Chaz believed in God’s sovereignty over a thorny situation like this? I don’t know where Chaz is going to go from here, so I hope You do.

* * *

Even though part of him wanted to put a hundred miles between himself and his stepfather, Chaz crossed the street and headed up the stairs to Dad’s hotel room. His anger seemed to boil back up with every step closer. They were going to have this out. Might as well do it here and now.

The door opened even before Chaz raised his fist to pound on it. Dad had bumped his head on the van’s door pillar, and now a long black bruise arched over Dad’s eye. It clashed with the wary look in the old man’s eyes.

Dad shrugged as he caught Chaz’s stare. “You should see the other guy.” It was a standard crack they’d made anytime Chaz or Wyatt or anyone came home with a black eye. While Chaz had done it only a couple of times, Wyatt made it a regular habit.

The use of the family joke just made everything worse. “I am the other guy.” Chaz made no attempt to lighten his words as he walked into the room.

“Would you have really socked me?” Dad’s question needed no further explanation.

“Might’ve.” It wasn’t really true. It’d be lying to say the urge to haul off and punch his father hadn’t risen up—he was that angry about the ranch’s succession to Wyatt—but Chaz would never have actually hit the man. Even a betrayal this large couldn’t untangle years of respect.

Well, not yet, at least.

“You sore?” Dad asked.

“Some.”

“I expect so.”

Suddenly Chaz wasn’t sure why he’d come here. Dad had clearly made up his mind. What was the point in talking about it further?

“I kept the dog.”

Dad scoffed. “You what?”

“I kept the dog. I have him here. Well, out in a cabin at Bruce Lohan’s place because the inn doesn’t take pets.” Pets. He had a pet. Another wave of the What just happened? storm surrounding him lately.

Dad looked at him as if that was the most startling thing that had happened last night. “What are you going to do with a dog?”

Out of nowhere, a spurt of anger that Dad failed to recognize he’d always wanted a dog burned through Chaz’s chest.

“Clearly not keep it on Wander, now, will I?” he shouted.

It was a stupid statement. Dad hadn’t said a word about putting him off the land. As far as he knew, he was perfectly welcome to continue living in the house he called home. And Cecil, too, for that matter. As of last night, however, Chaz felt irrationally homeless. As if the land beneath his feet had been yanked out from under him—which wasn’t so far off the truth.

“Settle down, Chaz. You’re taking this wrong.”

How else was he supposed to take this? Dad offered no explanation or defense. His silence told Chaz what he already knew: it was done. “Why?” He didn’t bother to soften the edge of his tone.

Dad met his glare with a hard stare of his own. “It was time.”

Chaz tossed the bag he’d been holding down on the coffee table. The bowls and leash clanged as they met the wood. He didn’t apologize for the loud noise. He walked past his stepfather and stood in front of the windows that looked out over the town. The street scene was what most people would probably call charming, but right now Chaz found the whole place suffocatingly happy. His eyes wandered to the cheery window of Bliss Bakery. Matrimony Valley may be fine for the likes of Yvonne, but he couldn’t stomach such an onslaught of happily-ever-afters. This place would only ever be the spot where his future imploded.

“I’ve been telling you it’s time to handle the succession for years.” Chaz turned back toward his stepfather. “So you pick here? Now?”

Dad’s back stiffened. “You’re telling me this would have been easier back in Colorado?”

The man had a point. Still... “In front of her? In front of both of them?”

Dad scratched his chin. “I doubt you’ll understand this, but maybe I wanted to hand down the hardest decision of my life with the woman I love by my side.”

Somehow that idea just made the whole thing worse. It connected him to Yvonne because he’d heard the toughest news of his life with her next to him at the table. The idea made his skin prickle.

Dad defiantly held his gaze. “You’re stronger than how unfair you think this is.”

Unfair? It was unfair that the man he had come to love like a father didn’t know what that land meant to him. Unfair that Dad failed to realize that he wanted Wander Canyon Ranch more than anything else in life. Or—even worse—did know it and denied him ownership of the ranch anyway.

Out of nowhere, Chaz’s mind raced back to the Sunday-school story of the prodigal son and the fit thrown by the loyal son at the party thrown for the wayward one. Unfair was absolutely the right word.

Chaz jabbed a finger at his stepfather. “Wyatt can’t do it, Dad.”

He waited for Dad to argue that, but instead Dad sighed in agreement. “Not without you he can’t. Not yet.” To Chaz’s surprise, he added, “But you could do it without Wyatt, couldn’t you?”

What on earth was that supposed to mean? As far as Chaz was concerned, he’d been running the ranch half without Wyatt from the start. He wanted to shout “Absolutely!” Only that seemed to be exactly what Dad wanted to hear, and Chaz wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction right now.

“I could,” he muttered instead.

“I know that.”

Chaz glared at him. “This isn’t right. None of it.”

“I know you see it that way.”

Dad’s simplistic answers were infuriating. “I should just get on a plane back to Wander right now.”

“I hope you don’t.”

Chaz wanted a fight. He wanted to have it out with his dad right now, to yell and argue and maybe even throw something. The low boil that had started in his chest last night at dinner was itching to spill over and do damage. There was probably a very good reason Hank put a thousand miles between him and Wyatt right now—Chaz couldn’t say what he’d do to his infuriating half brother if he was within arm’s reach at the moment.

Chaz paced the room, flexing and fisting his hands while his breath came in pants worthy of Cecil.

Dad planted his feet in the center of the room. “Go walk it off, Chaz.”

How dare Dad spout advice like that? Treat this massive injustice like a temper tantrum in the horse corral or some minor spat between him and Wyatt? You don’t just walk it off when someone yanks your future right out from under you, he wanted to shout.

To Chaz’s amazement, Dad opened the hotel room door and motioned him out.

“Seriously?”

Dad stood his ground. “I’ve made my decision. I know you don’t like it, and I didn’t expect you to. So go walk it off.”

Chaz glared right back.

Dad said nothing, only met Chaz’s angry eyes. He was being dismissed. Chaz was thirty years old and he couldn’t remember the last time Dad told him what to do with that tone in his voice. The old man was changing in ways that bugged him beyond comprehension. Chaz knew the stubborn set of that jaw, and knew that when Hank Walker made up his mind about something, you might as well carve it in stone.

So while he was steamed, and wanted to yell half a dozen things no son should ever yell at his father—stepdad or not—Chaz simply bit down on his tongue until it hurt, grabbed the bag off the coffee table and stalked out the open door.

He didn’t bother to say goodbye for fear of what else would come out behind the word.