Читать книгу What She'd Do for Love - Cindi Myers, Cindi Myers - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

THE CALLER ID on Ryder’s cell indicated that the call was from his mother. His mother who, as far as he could remember, had never called him in the middle of a work day. “Mom! Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine. Why would you think something is wrong?”

“You never call me during the day.”

“I’m on my lunch break and I wanted to catch you while you were still in cell range. I know how it is on some of those ranches—no cell tower for miles.”

“Okay.” He relaxed a little. “So what’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking—instead of you coming for dinner on Saturday, I’d like to come there and see you. We can go to lunch somewhere.”

“Sure. If that’s what you’d prefer.” His mother lived in Dallas and since Ryder had relocated to Cedar Grove, she’d made it a point to have him over for a meal at least once a week. He hadn’t spent so much time with a parent since he’d graduated high school, but he had to admit, it was nice having Mom close.

“I want to see where you live,” she said.

“It’s nothing fancy—just a furnished rental.” He didn’t need more, since his stay here wasn’t going to be permanent.

“Humor me. Now give me your address.”

He rattled off the details and the main cross streets. “My new car has GPS,” she said. “I’m sure I can find it. I’ll see you about noon Saturday, then.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

He pocketed the phone and added “Clean apartment” to his mental to-do list. He wondered if his mom wanted to see him so much because she was lonely. After all, she’d married Ryder’s dad right out of high school. To be on her own at this point in her life had to be tough. Of course, she’d been the one to ask for a divorce—something that still shocked Ryder. He’d thought his parents were happy in their marriage, or as happy as any couple ever was.

He’d better pick up some soft drinks and snack stuff at the store this afternoon; his provisions were limited to coffee, a loaf of bread and some lunch meat and condiments. He ate out for most of his meals. He fully expected Mom to fuss about his lack of a proper diet, a proper home or even a steady girlfriend. She rarely pried into his personal life, but she had strongly hinted that she thought it was time for him to settle down.

Hard to do when his job kept him on the road. His stint in Cedar Grove was likely to be one of the longest of his career, but even though plenty of women had indicated they’d be interested in getting to know him better, so far he’d kept his distance. Relationships always complicated things, especially when it came time to leave town.

That didn’t stop people from trying to match him up with eligible females, though. Christa Montgomery was beautiful, no doubt about that, with dark brown hair that fell just to her shoulders, and clear brown eyes that had met his gaze with no hint of coyness or flirtation. That air of confidence and calm assuredness made her all the more attractive. He’d like to get to know her better.

That wasn’t a new feeling for him; he met women all the time who might interest him, as he traveled around the state, overseeing various highway and bridge projects. But he was always careful not to start what he couldn’t finish. He’d told the truth when he’d said his job required a lot of travel. He didn’t mind, but being away from a home base so much made it tough to form relationships. He might date a woman one week, then not see her again for six or eight weeks. Texting and e-mailing couldn’t take the place of a physical connection. And he wasn’t the type to have a girl in every town, like some of the other engineers in his group.

But he’d settle for friendship—or a summer romance. If Christa wasn’t planning to stay in Cedar Grove, maybe she’d appreciate some company for a few months. It would be nice to have someone to hang out with, to take in a movie or dinner, without the worry that she’d expect a more lasting commitment.

He stepped back into the bank, but Christa was gone. Paul looked up from his desk. “Is there something I can help you with, Ryder?” he asked.

Ryder remembered why he’d come to the bank in the first place. “We’re going to have a lot of workers in and out of Cedar Grove for the next couple of years as construction on the highway progresses,” he said. “I wanted to make sure there won’t be a problem cashing their checks.”

“No problem at all.” Paul laughed. “I mean, if the state isn’t good for the money, we’re all in trouble.”

He scanned the lobby once more, wondering if Christa had slipped out the side door—to avoid him?

“If you’re looking for Christa, she said she had more errands to run,” Paul said. “I take it she just got back to town yesterday afternoon.”

“I guess she’s staying at the Rocking M, with her parents?” He regretted the question as soon as he saw Paul’s eyes light up.

“She is,” the banker said. “She’s been living in Houston since she graduated a few years ago, working at some big marketing firm. I guess the economic slump hit them the way it has almost everyone else. They laid off a bunch of people and she was one of the casualties. But I’m sure another firm will snap her up. She was always sharp.”

“So she’s only here temporarily, until she finds a new job.”

“I guess that’s the plan. But we all know plans can change.” He grinned. “The number at the ranch is in the local directory, if you want to give her a call.”

He bit back the impulse to tell Paul that he didn’t need anyone else to set him up with a woman. He already had to dodge the local women who went out of their way to flirt and even outright proposition him. Something about a new, single man in town sent some females into overdrive.

But Christa wasn’t like that. She’d been friendly, but cool. Not the kind of woman to throw herself at any man.

Which, in the perverse nature of the human spirit, made her all that much more attractive. But he wasn’t going to let Paul know that. For some reason, the banker had made it his mission to introduce Ryder to every eligible woman in the county.

Time to change the subject. “Are you going to be at the public forum tomorrow night?” he asked. This was the last in a series of community gatherings in the area to answer questions about the new highway project. Ryder’s job was to persuade people that the project was a good and positive thing for the people around here.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Worry lines formed on Paul’s forehead. “Are you concerned about the reception you’ll receive?”

“I know some people are unhappy with me, but I’m hoping when I explain the benefits, I can sway them to my side.” He believed the highway was a good thing, though he understood people’s fears about having traffic siphoned from an already dying town. But the new route meant new opportunity. He’d help people see that.

“The other meetings—with the other people the state sent to talk to us—didn’t always go so well,” Paul said.

“I’m not those other people.” The state had chosen him because of his ability to interact with a variety of people. Another lesson he’d learned from life as a military nomad.

“There are some pretty tough old cowboys around here. Set in their ways.”

“I was never one to back down from a battle.” His father had taught him that much. Except his weapons of choice were logic and control, not firearms. Facts and figures beat raw emotion any day, though it took some people longer than others to see that.

* * *

PINK GERANIUMS BLOOMED in half barrels flanking the door to the Cedar Grove Salon, where Christa had received her very first permanent wave from her best friend Kelly Jepson’s mother, Janet. Someone had added the words “and Day Spa” after “Salon” on the familiar sign, but when Christa stepped through the front door, the salon was just as she remembered it. Black padded chairs faced antique dressers that served as the stylists’ stations, and the air smelled of peroxide, hair spray and fruity shampoos. An older woman sat under a dryer in the corner, and Janet was just finishing a cut on another woman at her station.

As the string of sleigh bells on the back of the door fell silent, Kelly hurried from the back of the shop. “Christa!” she cried, and ran forward to hug her friend. Short, with a halo of brown curls framing her face, Kelly had gone into business with her mother right after high school. She and Christa kept in touch via Facebook and too-infrequent visits. “Etta Mae stopped by a little while ago and told us you were in town. For a while, I hope.”

“A few weeks. Maybe a few months. Did Etta Mae tell you I’d lost my job?”

“She didn’t say—I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved your work.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m still kind of in shock.”

“So you had no idea the layoff was coming?” Kelly asked.

“None. No one did. Apparently, the company had been in trouble for a while and we never knew.”

“That’s tough, but you’ll bounce back. In the meantime, I’m thrilled you’re home. And your hair looks gorgeous.” Kelly fingered the blunt-cut ends of Christa’s hair with a proprietary air. “Come see me when you’re ready for a trim.”

“Of course.” She waved at Janet, who nodded even as she wielded her blow-dryer and comb. “Stepping in here is just like coming home—everything so familiar.”

“Not everything,” Kelly protested. “Didn’t you see the sign? We’re a day spa now, too. We have a massage therapist who works three days a week, and I’m certified to do facials and waxing.”

“I guess that’s good,” Christa said. “Just don’t change too much.”

“We’ve got to keep up with the times,” Kelly said. “Do what we can to bring in new customers.”

“Not that any of it’s doing us much good.” Janet joined them at the front counter as her customer left. “I guess you noticed how many businesses around town have closed or are for sale,” she said.

“My dad said the drought and the economy have hit everyone hard,” Christa said. “It’s awful.”

“And now that new highway is going to send everybody flying right by without even knowing Cedar Grove is here,” Janet said.

“Some people are talking about moving out nearer the new highway,” Kelly said. “A developer has plans for a big new shopping center there.”

“Where the rent will be twice what we pay here,” Janet said.

“Mom has been a little stressed out about all of this.” Kelly frowned.

“Don’t get me started.” Janet waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “It’s good to have you back, Christa. I’ve got to go see to Mrs. Newsome.” She turned and headed for the woman under the dryer.

“Are you really thinking of moving the salon?” Christa asked.

Kelly shrugged. “Maybe. Mama doesn’t like change, but I think it could be a good thing. Along with the shopping center, there’s talk of a new housing development going in. The new highway will shorten the commute to Dallas, so the theory is more people will want to move out to the country. We could have a whole bunch of new clients for the salon. If we don’t move, some chain will set up shop and take all our business. I think Mama will come around—I just have to work on her.”

“I always admired your ability to see the bright side of things,” Christa said. “I guess I’m with your mother—I don’t like change. Did anyone even try to persuade the state that the route they chose for the highway wasn’t the best? It seems to me they didn’t have to bypass Cedar Grove altogether.”

“Some people raised a fuss at first, but you know how it is—the state always has an answer for every objection. They said this route was the only economical one. They held a series of meetings to present their plans. There’s another one tomorrow night.”

“Are you planning to attend?”

Kelly sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to, but Mama insists on going, and I go to help keep her calm. Frankly, I’ll be glad when they break ground. Once construction is under way, I think she’ll see there’s nothing we can do to stop it. Besides, I’m looking forward to another advantage of the construction project.”

“What’s that?” Christa asked.

“There’ll be lots and lots of men working on the project and they’ll be staying in town for up to two years. Some of them are bound to be young and single.”

Christa thought of Ryder Oakes. He’d said he was an engineer. Was he connected with the new highway project? The idea left a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn’t be as optimistic as Kelly about the effect the highway would have on her hometown. “I think I’ll go to the meeting, too,” she said. “If Mom and Dad don’t need me for anything. I want to hear what the state’s representatives have to say.”

If nothing else, focusing on this new highway would take her mind off her own problems, for a few hours, at least.

* * *

ERRANDS COMPLETED, CHRISTA drove back to the ranch, where everything was exactly as she’d expected to find it yesterday, but hadn’t. Today her father, dressed in a crisp long-sleeved Western shirt, freshly shaved, his hair neatly cut and combed, waved at her as he rode across the front pasture on his favorite horse, a sorrel gelding named Peanut. Mom, looking fresh and rested in denim capris and a pink blouse, opened the door as soon as Christa stepped out of the car and greeted her with a hug. At her side, Jet barked happily and wagged his tail in greeting. As Christa followed her mother into the house, the smell of roasting meat and baking pies greeted her.

The events of the day before might have been a bad dream. “Thank you for running those errands for me,” Mom said, relieving Christa of her packages. “It was a big help. How was your afternoon?”

“Fine. Etta Mae says hello. She wants to have coffee with you soon.”

“I’ll have to do that. Did you stop by the salon and see Kelly?”

“Yes.” Christa trailed her mom and Jet into the kitchen, where a pair of peach pies—Christa’s favorite—sat cooling on the counter. “She told me they might move the salon after the new highway is built.”

“That sounds smart.” Mom dumped the coin papers in the drawer beneath the phone—the repository for all the miscellaneous items no one knew what to do with.

The back door opened and Dad stepped inside, removing his Stetson as he did so, and setting it, crown down, on a shelf above the row of coat hooks. “How are things in town?” he asked Christa.

“Everyone’s talking about the new highway,” she said. “It’s really disrupting everyone’s life. Some of the businesses are talking about moving to a new shopping center near the new route. If they don’t, they’ll probably go out of business.”

“They have to go where the customers are,” Dad said.

“But they shouldn’t have to move,” Christa said. “The state should have kept the highway close to town, instead of bypassing Cedar Grove altogether.”

“I’m sure they had their reasons for choosing the route they did.” Dad washed his hands at the kitchen sink, then dried them on a dish towel. “Those pies look good, Adi.” He kissed his wife’s cheek.

“Behave yourself and I might let you have some,” she said, her smile taking any sting out of the words. She turned to Christa. “While you were in town, did you happen to run into Ryder Oakes?”

So she hadn’t imagined Ryder’s familiarity with her parents. “I met him,” she said. “How do you know him?”

“Oh, we met somewhere in town.” Mom gave a vague wave. “Such a nice young man, and about your age.”

Of course. Her mother saw Ryder Oakes as a potential match for her twenty-six-year-old-and-still-single daughter. “Paul Raybourn at the bank introduced me to Ryder,” she said.

“What did you think? He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“He is.” She couldn’t very well lie; with that thick sandy hair, brilliant blue eyes, dimpled smile and broad shoulders, Ryder was classically handsome. And he seemed like a nice guy. “But I really don’t have time to date anyone while I’m here. I have to focus on finding a new job, and a new place to live after that. Besides, Ryder is probably already involved with someone else.” The great guys always were.

“I’m sure he isn’t,” Mom said. “I think he’s been out with a few women, but Etta Mae says he’s never come into the café with the same woman twice. And did you know he went to the University of Texas, too?”

“Paul mentioned it.” As if graduating from the same university guaranteed they’d hit it off.

“Ryder has a good head on his shoulders. I like him.”

Christa stared at her father. This assessment of a stranger was the equivalent of the Pope’s blessing—at least in her house. Dad wasn’t one to throw around praise, and over the years Christa couldn’t remember him having much to say about any of the boys and men she’d dated. “How do you know Ryder?” she asked.

“Oh, we’ve talked a time or two.” He turned away. “Call me when supper’s ready.”

“How does Dad know Ryder Oakes?” Christa asked after her father had left the room. The casual acquaintance her mom had alluded to didn’t add up to the praise Dad had given the man.

Mom lifted the lid on the slow cooker and studied the roast. “I suppose they ran into each other in town. At Cattlemen’s Club meetings and things like that.” She reached for the salt shaker.

“But Ryder isn’t a rancher,” Christa said. “Why would he be at a Cattlemen’s Club meeting?”

Mom replaced the lid on the cooker. “I don’t know, dear. Why don’t you go freshen up? I’ll call you when supper’s ready.”

“I can help, Mom. Just tell me what to do.”

“That’s all right, dear. Go on.” She made shooing motions with her hand.

Christa started to argue, but decided to give in, for tonight, at least. She drifted into the living room, where Dad had assumed his usual place in his recliner, Jet in his lap.

“Kelly told me there’s a public meeting tonight about the new highway,” Christa said as she settled onto the sofa. “I’m thinking of going.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Maybe you and Mom would like to go with me.”

“I don’t think so, honey.” He stroked the dog, whose head was resting on her dad’s knee.

“Aren’t you curious to know what the state has to say? How they can justify destroying the town?”

“Cedar Grove was dying a slow death before the idea of this highway project ever came along,” Dad said. “The new highway could actually be a good thing.”

“I don’t see how.” Her father’s easy acceptance of such a big change bothered her. He’d lived in Cedar Grove all his life; was he really content to let the town just fade away?

“Maybe going to the meeting tonight will help you see things in a different light,” Dad said.

“Maybe.” Though she doubted it. Her father’s eyes were already closed. Was he really napping, or merely avoiding discussing this with her?

She stood. “I guess I’ll go freshen up before dinner.”

“Say hello to Ryder for me when you see him tonight.”

She froze halfway to the door. “I’m going to the meeting with Kelly, Dad. I won’t be seeing Ryder.” Did he think the meeting was some kind of excuse for a secret rendezvous with Ryder Oakes? She hadn’t done that kind of thing since she was in high school. Had her dad forgotten she was a grown woman—a woman who wasn’t interested in dating right now?

“Oh, I imagine you’ll run into him.”

She would never have used the word ‘smug’ to describe her father, but that’s exactly how he looked right now. As if he knew something she didn’t.

Then again, both her parents had been acting strange ever since she’d arrived home. She couldn’t help but feel they were hiding something from her, but what?

* * *

RYDER LOOKED OUT over the school auditorium which, as he’d expected, was filled with what must be ninety percent of the people who lived in or near Cedar Grove. From his position in the wings of the stage he could see men in checked shirts and cowboy hats standing along the back wall and children racing up and down the aisles.

A trio of women in summer dresses moved down the front row and he couldn’t keep back a smile as he recognized Christa Montgomery, in a sleeveless, flowered shift that showed off tanned arms. She was just as lovely as he remembered. Maybe after the meeting he’d find her and exchange a few words. He’d try to gauge her interest in a casual, dating relationship—no strings attached. Since she only planned to stay in town a little while, he didn’t have to worry she’d expect any long-term commitment from him. Spending more time with her would certainly make his own stay in Cedar Grove more pleasant.

“You ready to get this show on the road?” The high school principal, who was serving as the night’s master of ceremonies, asked.

Ryder nodded. “Let’s not keep people waiting.”

While the principal droned on about the need to listen quietly and then ask questions, Ryder studied Christa. She sat next to a younger woman who had curly hair. The curly-haired woman did all the talking, while Christa studied the large map showing the highway route that was projected onto a screen in front of the stage. She frowned at the map, looking more severe. Apparently, she wasn’t pleased.

He understood people’s objections, but he figured she’d feel differently once he’d made his case for the project.

“And now here’s Ryder Oakes. Mr. Oakes is the chief engineer overseeing this project. He’s going to say a few words and answer your questions.”

Ryder straightened his shoulders and strode onto the stage. He wore pressed khakis and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Nothing too fancy. He was a working man, just like most of these people. A man working to make their lives better, though not all of them saw this yet.

“The new highway, to be known as Spur Eighty-seven, is going to bring a lot of changes to life in Cedar Grove,” he began. “And change isn’t always easy. As humans, most of us are programmed to not like change. But sometimes change is good. When we switched from using horses to cars for transportation, most people didn’t like it at first. Yet how many of us would give up our cars now? We still have horses, but we use them for recreation, and to work in situations where cars don’t make sense.”

A few people nodded. Many of them still worked with horses every day.

“Some of you are worried that your town will die without the traffic a highway brings to it,” he continued. “More people will use the new road and forgo the back way that runs through your town. But I don’t think Cedar Grove will die. New people will come to live near the highway, and they will want to shop and use the services in town, as well as a place to take their kids on Saturday afternoons. You’ll have the opportunity to expand and add new businesses.

“You’ve probably had friends and family who have left town to live in the city, closer to jobs. The highway will make the commute to Dallas faster and easier, so some of those friends and family will move back home. Others won’t have to leave to find work. The state is also offering grants to rural transportation districts to establish bus service between rural areas and the city. That’s something that could make commuting even more affordable and easier.”

He set aside his sheaf of notes. “That’s all I have to say by way of introduction. Now I want to hear your comments and questions.”

Christa was one of the first people to raise her hand. He pointed to her. “Ms. Montgomery?”

She stood. “You paint a rosy picture of happy families and the town growing. But isn’t it just as likely—more likely, even—that those families will go to Dallas for recreation? They’ll shop in the big box stores in the city, where they can get cheaper prices. They won’t patronize a small town to which they feel no connection.”

“That might happen,” he conceded. “But while those families may not have the roots here that you and your family have, everyone craves connection. Towns like Cedar Grove hold a strong attraction for people who are looking to be a part of a community. If you reach out to those families and give them a reason to shop here—to be a part of your lives—I believe they will come.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something else, but the older woman on the other side of the curly-haired woman rose to her feet. “It’s all well and good to talk about what a great community we are now,” she said. “That doesn’t make up for the state coming in with the route for the highway already laid out and not even consulting us. You bought the land for the route at bargain prices, cutting ranches in two, even forcing families to move out of their homes altogether.”

“Everyone who sold to the state did so voluntarily,” Ryder said. “At a time when the real estate market is severely depressed, we have offered the best price possible.”

Objections rose from several quarters of the room. The principal stepped forward. “Everybody settle down,” he said. “This is supposed to be a calm discussion.”

From there Ryder moved on to answering questions about the new shopping center and housing development. Could the town annex the land to add to their tax base? Would those families be in the Cedar Grove school district? “I’m not part of the local government or school district,” he said. “But I believe the answer to both those questions is yes.”

More murmurs rose as the possibility of more money in the town coffers and growth in local schools registered. “So when are you going to get started?” one man asked.

“We hope to break ground in a couple of weeks,” Ryder said. “Though it may take a bit longer to close the deals for the last of the right of way. But we want to get started as soon as possible, while the weather is on our side.”

Others asked questions about traffic, the effect on local wildlife, fencing along the highway, and even trash pickup. Ryder answered as best he could. Christa raised her hand again and he called on her. He liked that she was still engaged in the discussion. And he liked the way her expression became so passionate and intense as she confronted him. “Why was this route chosen for the highway?” she asked. “Why not something closer to town?”

“Good question,” he said. He picked up a pointer and carried it to the projected map. “It’s a matter of geography. There’s a formation here, alongside the town.” He pointed to an area that would bring the highway much nearer to Cedar Grove. “There’s a granite uplift sitting over an underwater reservoir—an aquifer. Building here would require blasting through the granite—an expensive process. The probability of opening fissures to the aquifer is strong. At a minimum, that would cause problems with flooding of the project, requiring expensive dams, pumps and greatly increasing both the timeline and the cost of the project. At worst, it could have disastrous consequences for the local water supply.”

Murmurs rose from the crowd. After three years of drought, water was more valuable than oil to these people. They wouldn’t want to risk losing a drop, much less a whole aquifer.

“What about on the other side of town?” Christa asked. “Couldn’t you have routed the highway there?”

“Taking the highway in that direction makes the route longer and adds to the expense,” he said. “Our goal was to shorten the distance to the city and to do so as economically as possible.”

“And we end up paying the cost.” But she sat down, still frowning. Ryder’s heart sank. So much for him winning her over.

The questions wound down. “I think that’s all we have time for,” the principal concluded.

“If you have any more questions, you can catch me around town,” Ryder said. “If I don’t know the answer, I’ll find someone who does.”

As people moved out of the auditorium, he left the stage and slipped past a pair of men who looked as if they wanted to waylay him. Christa stood with her back to him, talking with her curly-headed friend. “He doesn’t care about the people here,” she said. “It’s all cold logic to him. Just the facts, ma’am.”

The words stung. He could have argued that basing decisions on facts and logic was more sensible than following blind emotion, but she wouldn’t have listened. He needed more time to win her over to his point of view. He intercepted her as she stepped into the aisle. “You asked good questions tonight,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you more—maybe over coffee?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze slid sideways, avoiding him. “My parents...”

“Your parents will be snug in bed, watching crime dramas,” her curly haired friend said. “I know because they’re just like my mom.”

“Kelly, have you met Ryder? Ryder, this is Kelly Jepson.” Christa made the introduction.

Ryder nodded to Kelly, but focused on Christa once more. “It’s just coffee,” he said, wanting to reassure her, in case she suspected him of ulterior moments. “I’m just trying to avoid going back to my empty apartment. I’m not a fan of crime dramas.”

This admission earned him the hint of a smile. “All right. But where can we get coffee this time of night?”

“The Blue Bell stays open late on Thursdays,” Kelly volunteered. “The Lions Club used to meet then, and after they changed their meeting time, Etta Mae just kept the same hours.”

“The Blue Bell it is,” he said. “Should I drive?”

“I’ll meet you there,” she said, and left before he could protest.