Chapter 8
eight
M ission hadn’t expected to be at a baby announcement today. He’d gone to church with Deacon that morning, as usual, and his boss and best friend had asked, “Do you want to go to lunch at Opal’s this afternoon?”
Mission rarely said no to a meal he didn’t have to make, and that had been that.
The news that Opal was pregnant had brought a smile to his face, though, and Mission was absolutely happy for her and Tag. Something tugged in his own soul, and he could admit he’d like to be in Tag’s position.
Not with Opal, of course, but the idea of being a father appealed to Mission. He’d lived a lot of years alone, and honestly, he was ready for a change.
He thought of Kristie, instantly frustrated all over again at how their date had ended last night.
He currently sat at the end of the long picnic table, with Deacon at the head of it on his left and Steele on the bench at his right. The Hammonds always made everyone feel welcome, so it wasn’t that he didn’t belong there.
He simply wanted to be somewhere else—with someone else.
Glancing over to Steele, he found the younger man grinning at his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen. “Who are you talkin’ to?” he asked.
Steele looked up, his eyes wide and suddenly wary. “Uh….” He shot a look down the table to where Tag sat with Opal.
“Must be a woman,” Deacon said in that slow, casual, country-boy way he had.
“Yeah, all right,” Steele said. “It’s a woman. I guess you could call her my girlfriend. I don’t know.” His face turned a ruddy shade of red as he flipped his phone over and left it face-down on the table. It chimed as he did, but he didn’t pick it up again.
“Haven’t defined it yet?” Mission asked, his heart pumping hard right now for a reason he couldn’t name. Perhaps because Steele had never really dated anyone that Mission knew of, and it felt like if he’d started seeing someone, Mission definitely needed to up his game.
“We’ve been out a few times,” Steele said. “I really like her, but no. We haven’t talked about the superficial labels.”
“I hate that conversation anyway,” Deacon said. “It’s so dumb. If we’re goin’ out, then she’s my girlfriend. Why do we have to define it?” His grouchiness shone through, though Mission happened to agree.
“Amen, brother,” Steele grumbled.
Mission looked between the two of them, deciding a topic change was in order. “How’s it goin’ out here?”
Steele shrugged, his demeanor not changing much. So maybe not a great topic to switch to. “Good. Busy. Got a new horse yesterday that’s giving us some trouble.”
“Yeah?” Mission dropped his napkin on his mostly empty plate, grateful for the distraction of farm talk. “What kind of trouble?”
“He’s skittish. Won’t let anyone near him except me—not even Tag—and even then….” Steele trailed off, his eyes drifting down the table to Gerty.
Mission nodded, understanding all too well how it felt to have strong opinions about animal care that others might not share.
His mind went straight to Kristie and how she’d handled that emergency call last night.
He’d been impressed by her calm professionalism, even as she’d raced to help a mare in distress.
“Even then?” he asked when Steele didn’t go on.
“He needs to be isolated until he’s healed up and properly socialized, and I think it’s the first time me and Gerty don’t agree about something.” Steele crossed his arms, then sighed as he relaxed again. “He’s causing problems with all the other horses, but she doesn’t want to move him.”
He glared down the table to her, but softened when he looked at Mission and then Deacon. “She’s just stubborn, and I’m still learning how to talk to my boss like an equal.”
Boy, Mission understood that, and he flicked a glance over to Deacon.
“She wants your opinion,” Deacon said. “I’m sure of that.” He finished the last of his pasta salad and wiped his mouth, his eyes zeroing in on Mission. “How’d your date go with Kristie?”
Great. Another topic change—this time straight to what Mission didn’t want to talk about.
“You went out with Kristie?” Steele asked, keen interest in his voice. “Kristie Higgins?”
Mission ducked his head. “Yeah, sure did.” He grinned over to Deacon and then Steele. “It went pretty well, I think.” He could still feel the shape of her in his arms, smell the fruity scent of her perfume as he stood close to her, see the way she smiled as they twirled and danced.
“I’m sensing a but ,” Deacon said.
“But we got interrupted by an emergency veterinary call.” Mission glanced over to Steele and shrugged one shoulder. “It wasn’t how I’d have liked to have ended the date. That’s all.”
“That’s rough.”
“She’s a mobile vet,” Mission said as if Steele didn’t know. Of course he did; Kristie had come out to Gerty’s farm to work plenty of times. “Had to go deliver a foal.”
Steele’s phone chimed and chimed, and Deacon chuckled. “Go talk to her,” he said.
“Hazel’s fine to wait,” Steele said, but he still swiped up his phone as he stood. He picked up his plate, then stacked Mission’s and Deacon’s on it before he headed back into the farmhouse.
“We have apple pie for dessert,” Opal called down the table. “I’ll go start the coffee.” She went inside too, and Mike and Tag got up and started taking in dishes too.
Mission’s thoughts went right back to Kristie and stuck. She hadn’t texted him at all that day, and since he’d left her at the Clovis farm last night, he could totally ask her for an update without seeming clingy.
It only took a few taps to get a message sent. How did everything go last night? I never heard from you.
He set his phone on his thigh, screen up, and looked over to Tarr as he started telling a story about one of the calves he and Tucker were training for a roping event in the rodeo.
“And how’s Rosie settling into life in Colorado?” Deacon asked, and now Tuck and Tarr had plenty to say.
Fine by Mission. He looked down at his phone and found Kristie had messaged him back.
Both doing well! Mama had some complications, but I got her stitched up, and the little guy is nursing like a champ. Got home around 3 AM.
Mission smiled, imagining Kristie’s tired but satisfied expression after successfully delivering the foal.
Glad to hear it. Sorry our night got cut short.
He hesitated, then added: I had a really good time.
He wanted to ask her out again. Had he been able to see the date through to completion, with him walking her to her door, he’d have asked her out again.
I guess I did too , she said.
You guess? He sent the message with plenty of irritation firing through him, because what kind of response was that?
She guessed she’d had a good time? What wasn’t to like?
He worked to calm his temper, even going so far as to press his eyes closed. He drew a long breath in through his nose and did what the pastor had talked about at church today: He went still.
The sermon hadn’t been about anger management, but the pastor had spoken about taking time to be silent and still, so he could hear and feel God in his life.
But the tactic worked to calm Mission’s ire too, and he added a prayer for good measure. Lord, I like this woman, probably too much. Help me to be patient and not jump to conclusions.
He opened his eyes and looked at his accusatory text.
Oh, and if I could control my tongue better, that would be nice too.
His phone buzzed—he was smart enough to turn off the sound, so everyone else wouldn’t know when he got a message—and he looked down at Kristie’s text.
I’m super disappointed about missing out on the mini doughnuts , she said. But the dancing made up for it, and the handsome cowboy I was with didn’t hurt either.
Mission’s heart rate sped, his annoyance completely gone. He glanced up to make sure no one was paying attention to him, but everyone seemed engrossed in Tucker’s stories about Rosie down in Texas. Normally, he would be too—anything that kept the spotlight off him.
How’s your Sunday going? He sent the text and reached for his nearly empty glass of lemonade and finished it.
Quiet. Just catching up on sleep and paperwork. You?
At a lunch at Opal and Tag’s. They just announced they’re having a baby.
Oh, that’s great. Tell them congratulations from me.
Mission’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Just ask her , he told himself. The worst she could say was no. And based on last night and this conversation, he didn’t think she would.
Would you like to go out again sometime? I bet they sell mini doughnuts other places besides the Summer Stroll.
He sent the message before he could overthink it, then set his phone down and forced himself to his feet. He didn’t want to be on this deck, with these people.
He wanted to head over to Kristie’s.
Yeah, I’d like that , she said. And you know, I still have your cheesecake. We never did make it to dessert last night.
Relief and excitement washed through him in equal measure. Maybe I could come by for dessert tonight.
I’m home and not planning on going anywhere.
Mission grinned, and he looked up to find Deacon watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Important business?”
Mission burst out laughing. “I look like Steele, don’t I?” Moony eyed and grinning at his phone.
Deacon grinned too. “You really do.”
“Coffee’s almost done,” Opal called from the back doorway. “And we have vanilla ice cream to go with the pie.”
Panic built beneath Mission’s breastbone. He sank back onto the bench and met his best friend’s eye. “Could you catch a ride with someone else?”
Deacon’s eyebrows went up. “You’re turning down Opal’s apple pie?”
“I know, it’s practically a sin,” Mission said with a small smile. “But I’ve got some things I need to take care of tonight.”
“ Things , sure.” Deacon grinned at him. “I’m sure I can get a ride back to the farm. Go.”
Mission wasted no time in getting to his feet again and striding into the house. He moved right over to Opal and hugged her. “Lunch was delicious. Thank you for having me. And congratulations again on the baby.”
Opal’s eyes flickered with surprised, but she smiled. “It was good to see you, Mish. You’ve got something to do on the farm?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Deacon said he could get a ride back with someone.”
“I’m sure Tag or Mike can take him,” Opal said.
Mission did his best not to run out, and he shook Tag’s hand and thanked him too, denied taking any apple pie with him, and finally managed to exit calmly through the front door.
The drive back to his cabin took about twenty minutes, giving Mission plenty of time to think about what he was doing.
“Two dates in two days,” he muttered. It had been a long time since he’d been this eager to spend time with a woman.
There was something about Kristie that drew him in—her intelligence, her confidence, the way she lit up when she smiled. And last night, dancing with her under the stars, he’d felt something he hadn’t experienced in years.
Connection. Real connection.
Inside, Mission changed into fresh clothes—dark jeans and a navy button-down that his grandfather had once told him brought out his eyes.
He debated wearing his good boots or more casual ones, finally settling on the nicer pair.
This might be a casual dessert-only event at her place, but it was still a date.
At least in Mission’s mind.
He’d been home for ten minutes, but he couldn’t sit idle—and alone. So he headed back out to his truck, aiming it toward the town of Ivory Peaks—and Kristie’s house—this time.
Now, he simply had to hope he didn’t come across as too eager when he showed up less than an hour after texting her.