4. Noah
Chapter 4
Noah
W alt and I haven’t said a word to each other since I came into the house. Lizzy left with her friend a few minutes ago, and now it’s just the two of us.
We have dinner together at least once a week. Sometimes, twice. I wasn’t lying when I told Lizzy I was invited. I always have a standing invitation at Walt’s place. Just like he has one at mine.
We became friends years ago. I was an angry teenager in need of a guide. He was a grieving widower in need of someone to mentor. Somehow, the two of us bonded over a shared love of reading.
I’d spend hours in his bookshop, reading as many volumes as I could. It didn’t matter what I was reading. I just wanted to be reading and not thinking about the painful memories that haunted me.
He never fussed at me for reading through so many of his books. In return, I helped him with unloading and stocking inventory. Even now his bookstore feels just as much like home to me as my family’s ranch.
Walt’s silence right now doesn’t mean he’s angry. He’s a thinker. A man who weighs everything carefully before speaking. But it doesn’t matter even if he is angry. There’s nothing he could say that would make me turn away from Lizzy. She’s mine. I know that deep in my bones.
I decide to start the conversation, nodding at the steak and baked potato he places on the table in front of me. I didn’t call ahead to tell him I’d be here. “Were you expecting company?”
“Just Tank,” he says.
Tank is married to Bailey, the woman who runs the barbershop in town. “I didn’t know the two of you are friends.”
He busies himself with putting ice in our glasses. He pours both of us a glass of his sweet tea, never looking up at me. “We go fishing sometimes.”
Unease prickles at me. He’s hiding something. “Is he going to join us tonight?”
He nudges silverware toward me. “I texted him that I’m busy.”
I nearly choke over the sweet tea that weirdly doesn’t taste like his recipe. “When did you learn to text?”
“My granddaughter taught me,” he says as he takes a seat at the table. I’ve been trying to teach Walt how to use his smartphone for the last two years, and he always refused my help. I wonder how Lizzy convinced him to use it.
He pins me with an intense stare. “Which brings up what we need to discuss. Namely, what you’re doing here tonight.”
I pull the ring box from my pocket and set it on the table where he can see it.
He eyes it. “Is that what I think it is?”
He mentioned once how he saw his late wife for the first time at a barn dance and instantly knew they were meant to be together. I didn’t understand that story when he told it to me. Sometimes, you look at one person and know you’re looking at your forever.
“I love her. I knew it the moment I saw her. It was like…”
He finishes my thought perfectly. “Everything finally clicked. All the things you went through. They were making you into the man you needed to be for her.”
I nod, not surprised he understands. I’ve spent decades questioning why. Why were my brothers and I born to abusive parents? Why did we have to go into the foster system? Why did we have to hurt so much?
“I’m going to marry her.”
Walt picks up his knife and cuts into his steak. “You’re not here for a blessing. This is a warning. You’re taking her.”
I don’t deny it. I respect Walt too much to lie to him.
He chuckles. “She won’t fall easy.”
I know that too. She wants to fall but something is holding her back. I saw it tonight on the porch. Demons from her past haunt my girl. Well, she no longer battles them alone. Now she has a warrior beside her who will fight with her and for her.
He stops cutting his food and sets down his silverware. “I have terms.”
He has no say over what happens to Lizzy. She’s a grown woman, not property we can bargain over. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’d be smart to have Walt as my ally while I win over Lizzy’s heart. “Let me hear them.”
“I want to give her away. You kids want to elope, fine. I won’t stand in the way if she calls and wants to marry you right now. But I never got to give away my daughter. I’m not missing the chance to walk my granddaughter down the aisle.” He pauses there, his throat working.
His daughter was a drug addict who ran away from home. Despite years spent searching, he couldn’t find her. Around five years ago, I convinced him to submit his DNA to one of those websites that helps families reconnect. We both agreed that it was probably a long shot. Then one day, Lizzy was reaching out to her grandfather. Funny how helping Walt led me to find my soulmate.
His request is easy to grant. I don’t care when or where I marry Lizzy. As long as I get to slide a ring on her finger, I’ll be a happy man. “Done.”
Walt composes himself and continues, “And she works at the bookstore. As long as she wants. She gets to do whatever she wants.”
I couldn’t imagine pulling her away from the bookstore. I know from her social media that books are her passion. Just like they are for me. “I don’t want to clip her wings. Just want to watch her soar.”
He nods. “Final condition. A four-kid minimum on the great grands. I want plenty of them to spoil.”
I can’t keep the smirk from my face. I already look forward to seeing my girl’s soft belly round and knowing it’s because she’s carrying my kid. “I’m way ahead of you on that.”
Before he can answer, his phone rings. He picks it up with a frown. He flashes it at me, so I can see that Lizzy is calling. The fear is evident in his tone. “Yeah, oh, Sadie? Is my girl OK?”
I can’t imagine the pain Walt has lived through. He spent so long searching only to discover years after the fact that his daughter eventually overdosed.
“She’s tipsy? No, you did the right thing calling. I’ll be there to pick her up as soon as I can.”
As he’s ending the call, I push to my feet. “She’s yours, but she’s mine too. I look after what’s mine.”
Lizzy
“Noah Maple is the prettiest cowboy I’ve ever seen,” I tell Sadie while we’re in the kitchen of her donut shop. It’s the coziest in here, and I feel safe with her.
“Aww, darling, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Noah says from his place in the kitchen doorway.
I gasp. Now, he knows. He knows he’s the prettiest, and I’m a little bit smitten because he’s nice and smells good too. “Oops, I think I just spilled the beans.”
Sadie nods, looking sympathetic. “I think so too.”
“Is she ready?” Noah looks at Sadie.
“I’ll walk you two out,” she says when I try to hop off the counter and it goes all tilty on me again.
“You have dreadful floors,” I tell her as she clutches one of my arms.
“They’ll be magically fixed by tomorrow morning,” she promises as I lean on her. She helps with the tilting.
Noah holds open the bakery door then opens the passenger door of his truck. “In you go, sweetheart.”
“I’m not getting in your truck!” I protest.
His full lips twitch like he thinks this is the perfect time to smile. It is not. It is the perfect time to be serious. “Your grandfather is worried about you.”
I look to Sadie and explain what this is. “I know how babies are made. It can happen in there!”
His stupid mouth is still almost smiling and looking very kissable. “Not when you’re intoxicated it doesn’t.”
I have to keep Sadie in the loop, so she doesn’t feel left out. It’s no fun being the left out one. “He wants me to have his babies. He’d make pretty babies.”
Sadie looks at Noah. “Are you sure you’ve got her?”
Noah grasps my elbow and propels me toward the truck. My arm goes all tingly where he touches me. All of me goes tingly. I think Noah Maple might be magic. “Yeah, she’ll be fine with me.”
Sadie leans in and buckles my seatbelt. “I’ll call to check on you in the morning.” Then she leans close and whispers in my ear. “Be good for Noah and let him be good to you.”
Her words make my eyes wet. “I need another donut.”
“Soon.” Noah promises as he gets into the driver’s side. “Let’s get you home.”
Noah likes to sing. He softly sings along to all the songs on the radio. It’s not fair that he’s pretty to look at and sings pretty too.
One song is about a boy who falls in love with a girl that he doesn’t want anyone to take. He glances at me as he sings. He’s frowning as the traffic light casts a red glow on his face.
“Don’t you look at me,” I tell him as he starts the truck forward. “You get squinchy around your eyebrows and it makes me want to kiss you.”
He chuckles. “Can’t say I’d object to you kissing me.”
“No! Kissing leads to babies. No babies.”
Noah turns on a dirt road where there are no lights. Just the stars overhead. “Why no babies? Do you not want a family?”
I sigh and explain, “No family wants little Lizzy. She’s not pretty or smart or outgoing.”
Noah takes my hand. His callouses scrape my palm as he squeezes gently. “I want Lizzy. She’s the smartest, prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”