Chapter Eleven
Caleb
Aside from a couple seasons of football, I hadn’t been much of a joiner back in my school days. It was all I had been able to do to sit through class. Where I really wanted to be was on the ranch. I’d long ago accepted my son wasn’t anything like me, though—not when it came to school and learning.
I sat in the bleachers, elbows resting on my knees, watching the semi-organized chaos happening on the gymnasium floor. Kids darted between tables and taped-off lanes, some crouched over laptops, others fiddled with little wheeled robots that reminded me of souped-up vacuums.
Jesse was with his team, all of them wearing matching forest-green T-shirts.
He’d spent half of last night on a call with his team, going over strategy and last-minute adjustments.
This morning, he’d had so much on his mind, he’d barely spared me a word.
I hadn’t taken it personally. This was his world.
I was just here to support him as he made it spin.
I shifted on the hard wooden bench, rubbing at the back of my neck, my gaze wandering across the crowded gym. Coaches imparted reminders. Parents drank coffees bigger than their heads, trying to look alert. Kids tinkered with their robots.
Shelby was supposed to be here, but she’d texted Jesse early this morning, canceling. She’d given some excuse about Kent having an emergency. I wasn’t buying it, but I’d decided to mentally cut her some slack. Overall, she’d shown up to more of Jesse’s activities than she’d missed.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed she’d disappointed our son. He’d tried to play it off, but there’d been no missing the slump in his shoulders.
I raked my hand over my beard, wincing at how overgrown it was. When was the last time I trimmed it? Cocking my head to the side, I racked my memories. Before I could pin down a date, Alice stepped through the door on the far side of the gym, pausing just inside, taking everything in.
Her pretty, fluffy curls spilled over her shoulders, covered in a faded denim jacket she wore over an eggplant-colored top and black pants. She looked a little lost, clutching her purse strap as she scanned the bleachers and floor like she wasn’t sure where to go.
I wasn’t sure either. Anyone else, I would’ve waved. Said hello. Done the polite small-talk thing.
“I’m over you.”
I’d been mulling over her pronouncement since she’d made it. It wasn’t something I’d ever been told, and while I supposed I should’ve viewed it as a good thing, it didn’t sit right with me. Problem was, I couldn’t sort out why.
Alice being over me was a good thing—for her sake. Being into me wouldn’t lead her anywhere good. Except, I didn’t know what Alice being over me looked like. Did I get ignored? Would she no longer serve my table at Joy’s? Get treated like I was every other customer?
I didn’t like the sound of any of that.
Alice crossed the gym floor, dodging kids and robots, until she reached the bleachers. As she climbed, she glanced around for a place to sit. The wooden rows had filled fast. If I didn’t speak up, she’d have to wedge herself between strangers.
“Alice.”
She turned, easily finding me on the edge of a row two steps up. I pointed to the empty space beside me.
“Come on. There’s room for you right here.”
She flashed me a small, tentative smile and made her way up. I scooted over for her, giving her the end seat. As she sat down beside me, I caught the faintest hint of cinnamon.
“Do you bake?”
Startled by my question, her head jerked. “I…oh, no, not really. Why?”
I took a long whiff of the air around her. “You always smell like cinnamon.”
She brought her hand up to the side of her neck, a little furrow forming between her brows.
“It’s my perfume.” She crinkled her nose. “I like flowers, but I don’t want to smell like one.”
I let myself have another whiff. “You smell like Christmas.”
Her laugh was light and breezy. “I hope that’s a good thing.”
I grunted. “My favorite time of year.”
“Mine too,” she said quietly. Then she shifted slightly away from me but slid her eyes back my way. “Thank you for the plant. You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re welcome.” I lowered my chin and voice. “Felt it was the least I could do.”
“It really wasn’t necessary.” She lifted her hand, her thumb extended. “It’s brown, by the way. The plant’s still alive, but I can’t guarantee how long it will stay that way.”
It was my turn to laugh. “My grandmother swore that kind of plant is impossible to kill.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like a challenge if I ever heard one.”
Before I could think of a comeback, the overhead speakers let out a loud squeal, putting an end to our conversation.
“Attention, teams and spectators,” the announcer boomed, his voice echoing off the gym walls. “We’re about to begin the first round of obstacle course runs. Team sign-ups one through five, please bring your robots to the starting lanes.”
Down on the floor, Jesse and his teammates scrambled to gather their equipment. I sat forward, bracing my forearms on my knees, eyes locked on my boy as he carried their little robot to the starting line. His face was set with determination, his mouth moving as he spoke to his friend beside him.
“He looks so confident,” Alice murmured, as if to herself.
I glanced at her. Her elbows were pressed together in her lap, hands clasped tight, eyes bright with excitement as she watched the kids prepare.
She hadn’t shown up to humor Jesse. She was into this.
“Yeah,” I said. “He is. He’s always been that way.”
She shook her head. “He’s such a cool kid.”
“He sure is,” I agreed, pleased she’d said it. “The coolest.”
The buzzer sounded, and Jesse’s robot shot forward, weaving through the first set of cones like it was nothing. His team cheered from behind the taped-off lane, and I joined in, giving a short, sharp whistle.
Alice laughed. “That’s some whistle. Is that how you get your cattle to follow you?”
“Sometimes. I have to use all the tricks I have up my sleeve.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Jesse’s robot as it pivoted perfectly around a corner.
“Well, it certainly carries,” she said. “He heard you. Look at that smile.”
She was right. Jesse glanced up into the bleachers, his grin wide as he pumped his fist at his team. My heart thumped hard in my chest.
The robot reached the final stretch, and Alice practically bounced with excitement.
I should’ve been watching my son cross the finish line, but my gaze kept flicking sideways, catching the glow on Alice’s face, the way her curls swayed with every small movement.
She looked so alive, eyes shining, cinnamon drifting around every time she shifted.
The robot crossed the line, and Jesse’s team erupted in cheers. I whooped along with them, but my throat was tight. I couldn’t explain it. I was happy for my kid, but something felt off.
Alice leaped to her feet, clapping and jumping up and down. I stood beside her, calling Jesse’s name, and he turned, grinning like a madman. Then he noticed Alice, and his smile grew bigger than I’d ever seen.
Yeah, that felt good. Exactly as it should’ve been.
When the applause died and the teams geared up for the next round, I took my place beside Alice. She smoothed her hands over her lap and pressed her knees together, taking up as little room as possible.
I knocked my knee against hers. “Thanks for coming. Jess’s mom couldn’t make it. It’s nice you came out to support him.”
“Of course. This is a lot more fun than I thought it would be.” She moved her leg away from mine. “I’m sure his mom wishes she were here.”
“Eh, don’t know about that. Six months ago, I would’ve agreed, but she hooked up with this guy who’s got her wound up all wrong. Her priorities aren’t straight. All Kent, all the time.”
As soon as it was out of my mouth, I wondered why I’d said it. I didn’t spill my personal life all over town. In fact, I wasn’t much of a talker at all.
“They come into Joy’s sometimes.” She seemed to have more to say, but clamped down on her bottom lip to stop herself.
I cocked my head. “Yeah? What kind of tipper is Kent?”
Her eyes flitted downward, and I chuckled. She didn’t have to say a single word.
“That bad, huh?”
Her gaze sprang back up to meet mine. Fresh and green. Bright and alive. Reminding me of those minutes in the bar bathroom, her in my arms, her lips swollen from kissing mine.
“I’m pretty sure that’s confidential,” she sputtered.
“Yeah? Like a lawyer?” I teased.
“Something like that. I’m assuming you’ve never waited tables?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “Only place I’ve worked is on the ranch.”
“Then you wouldn’t know about the oath we have to take before starting the job.”
My brow dropped. “Oath? Joy made you take an oath?”
I believed her for exactly one second, then she started giggling, blowing her cover.
Her giggle faded into a grin as she tucked a curl behind her ear. “You looked like you were ready to spit nails.”
I shook my head, chuckling. “You almost had me.”
“Almost?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, you got me for a second. Didn’t know you had it in you to jerk me around like that.” I nudged her lightly with my elbow. “I was about ready to head over there and give Joy a piece of my mind.”
“Please don’t,” she said, still laughing. “Joy probably wouldn’t give you that piece back.”
“No doubt she’d grind it under her boot.” I bumped her with my leg again. “I’m glad you came. There’s normally a lot of waiting around at these things. It’s nice to have another adult to talk to. Makes the time go faster.”
Her cheeks flushed rosy pink as she turned to scan the action on the floor. “Yeah. I’m glad I came.”
We settled back into watching the next group set up. Alice rested her chin on her fists, enthralled with everything going on.
“I wish I’d done stuff like this when I was their age,” she murmured.
“What did you do instead?”
“Nothing like this. All the fun I had happened in books.”
“So you’ve always been a bookworm?”
She shrugged and ducked her head. “I guess.”
“Makes sense to me. I’ve always been a cowboy. My dad put me on a horse with him before I could walk, and the rest was history. Guess we both ended up where we were supposed to.”
“That’s a nice thought.” She glanced at me. “I’ve never ridden a horse.”
“And I’ve barely read a book.”
A laugh burst out of her, like buds in the spring—full of life, promising something beautiful. “I don’t believe you. After all, you’re a certified library cardholder now.”
“True. I’m a changed man.” I tipped toward her. “You’ll have to come out to the ranch sometime. Me and Jess will get you riding in no time.”
“Maybe I will.”
I was surprised at how easy our banter was. Like this was normal. Like we did it all the time. Maybe after all that had gone down, we’d end up being friends. Stranger things had happened.
When the next round ended, Jesse and his team ran back to their table to start prepping again. I watched him for a second, pride burning in my chest, then turned back to Alice.
“We’re probably gonna go out for pizza after this,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Would you like to join us? Jesse’d be pleased if you did.”
Her smile faltered for a split second. “Oh. I…I can’t.”
I frowned. “Are you working tonight?”
She hesitated. “No. I don’t work Saturday nights anymore. I have other plans.”
“Plans?” I echoed. “What kind of plans?”
It was none of my business, but her evasiveness had me curious. What did Alice Clark get up to on her nights off?
“Just plans. It doesn’t matter.”
The way she wouldn’t meet my eyes set off a warning bell in my head. I narrowed my gaze.
“Alice,” I uttered lowly, “what plans?”
She sighed, finally telling me, “I’m going out to dinner.”
I sat there staring at her, trying to make sense of what she’d just said. Then understanding dawned.
“A date,” I said flatly. “From an app?”
She chewed on her bottom lip, nodding.
“Christ,” I breathed. I didn’t like that. Those apps couldn’t be safe. Meeting up with strange men whose intentions were unknown… “You know that’s not safe.”
“We’re meeting at a restaurant. It’s perfectly safe.”
I didn’t say anything for a long moment. My jaw clenched. My chest tightened with a wave of dread too big for the situation. Alice wasn’t mine. She could do what she wanted. But I did not like this idea. Not at all.
I faced the floor, watching Jesse work with his team, something sour churning in my gut. I had no say here. I couldn’t tell her not to go. Even if I did, she’d probably laugh in my face.
Dating apps have been around for a long time.
It wasn’t something I’d ever do, but I was old-fashioned in a lot of ways.
Alice wanted someone in her life, and when I thought about it, I couldn’t name a single man in town I’d match her with.
Maybe trying another method made sense for her. My approval had no bearing here.
“Well,” I said finally, my voice gruffer than I intended. “Hope it works out for you.”
“I hope it does too.”
She fell silent beside me, and for the first time since she’d sat down, the narrow space between us felt wide and empty.
I didn’t know what I felt exactly, but I knew I didn’t like it. Not any of it.