Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-one
Alice
Mrs. Taylor was a faithful patron of Sugar Brush Community Library, but she did not trust me. Every time she checked out a book, she gave me a serious stink-eye—and I was almost certain I’d never steered her wrong.
This afternoon, she peered at me over the top of her reading glasses, the library’s copy of Wild Like a Cowboy’s Heart clutched tightly to her chest, like it was in danger of being stolen.
“I need to know,” she whispered, as if the other patrons might eavesdrop. “Is it…spicy?”
I glanced at the cover—shirtless cowboy leaning against a fence post at sunset—and fought the smile tugging at my lips. I might’ve been a devout fantasy reader, but that didn’t mean I never ventured onto the wilder side. I liked a good, steamy cowboy romance as much as the next person.
“I think it’s pretty spicy, but I suppose that would depend on your personal definition.”
“You know.” She wiggled her stark white eyebrows. “Not just kissing. I don’t have time for all that slow-burn malarkey.”
Biting back a laugh, I flipped the book open and scanned a few pages I found pretty dang delightful. “I’d say it’s a medium burn. There’s a barn scene about halfway through, and…well, I won’t spoil it for you. You’ll know when you get there.”
The blush that suffused her cheeks made her look fifty years younger and not nearly as cantankerous as I knew her to be. “Perfect. My blood pressure’s been low lately. The doctor says I need excitement.”
“I think you’ll find plenty in those pages,” I assured her.
She questioned me for a few more minutes and requested I order a book by one of her favorite romance authors, then she promised I’d be hearing from her if the cowboy spice wasn’t up to snuff. I told her I’d be ready to face the music if that happened.
When she finally toddled toward the exit, I was grinning to myself, but I froze when I spotted the mountain planted beside the front door.
Caleb Kelly sauntered over to my desk, one hand tucked in his jeans, the other holding a miniature potted plant. I held my breath until he reached me, the crooked grin blooming under his scruffy beard entrancing me.
Dang it all to hell.
Our nightly reading sessions were doing nothing to help me move on from this damn man. Yet I always picked up when he called.
I liked to think I was a smart woman, but when it came to Caleb, I was a drooling, simpering dolt.
“Hey.” He leaned his elbow on my desk and grinned down at me. “Seems like your last customer was giving you a hard time.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” I stood up. It didn’t put us on an even playing field, but we were closer. “Mrs. Taylor takes her steamy romance very seriously. She doesn’t want to waste any time on books where the author closes the door when things start to heat up.”
His brows popped. “You have that kind of book here?”
“Oh yeah.” I propped my hip beside my keyboard and smirked. “Why do you think the library’s so popular?”
“Well, hell...” He raked his fingers through the side of his hair. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong section.”
A laugh spilled out of me. “Are you regretting reading Shadow of the Isle?”
“Not at all.” He rapped his knuckles on my desk. “In fact, that’s part of the reason I’m here. I’m ready for book two. Do you have it for me?”
“I do.” I reached down and grabbed the hardback I’d set aside for him. “Here it is. Wing of the Sea.”
He put the little plant he’d brought on the counter. “Let’s trade. I’ll take the book, you take this.”
The plant was a succulent, with adorable, round, plump leaves, tucked in a very small pot that looked hand painted. But I…didn’t know why he’d brought it here.
I blinked at it. “What’s this for?”
“Your desk,” he said simply, like that explained everything. It absolutely did not. “I thought it could use some color and life. And when I saw this little guy, I thought of you.”
My fingers hovered near the pot, not quite touching it.
I’d been given gifts plenty of times. In my position, I was on many Christmas cookie lists, and children loved to draw me special pictures.
But I’d never been given something like this.
Something small and charming Caleb had seen and thought, “That’s Alice. ”
I didn’t know what to do with the warmth that pooled in my chest, or the unbearable ache that came right after.
“Caleb, you didn’t have to—”
“I know.” His eyes softened, and I had to glance down at the succulent before I drowned in them. “I wanted to. You spend a lot of time here. You deserve something pretty to look at.”
“Well, thank you. I hope I can keep it alive.”
He chuckled. “Is the last one I gave you still green?”
“So far, so good. But it’s only been a couple weeks.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I have faith in you, Allie. You can do it.”
“That makes one of us. I guess time will tell.” I busied myself with shuffling the papers on my desk, giving it my fullest attention.
He took the book from the counter, tucking it under his arm. “When are you starting back at Joy’s?”
“Wednesday night,” I stated, making the neatest stack of papers in the history of stacks.
“You’re sure you’re ready?”
I finally looked up. “I am, Caleb.”
“Good.” He nodded once. “I’m glad you’re feeling confident. That’s good.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, though confident was the last thing I felt. I would have said discombobulated. Confused. A little angry. Not confident.
He cocked his head, oblivious to the storm brewing within me. “I hope you’ll have time to read with me. Does tonight look good?”
I truly couldn’t keep carrying on like this. Clearly, it wasn’t good for me. One day, if Caleb wanted to be friends, I might’ve been able to, but not now. I hadn’t been able to shake these feelings off, and I wouldn’t, not with him around every corner and in my ear each night.
“Actually…” I rubbed my palms over my thighs, wishing Mrs. Taylor would march back in, demanding to know about another barn scene, “I’m not going to be available to read this week. I’ve got a lot going on.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. My to-do list at the library was endless, and Lily had hopped right on the fundraising idea, so I had tasks to complete for her as well. But mostly, I needed distance. As much as I could get.
His brow creased, but he only nodded. “All right. I’ll get started on my own. Let me know when you have time for me.”
“Okay,” I replied. “I will.”
Once he was gone and I could breathe normally again, I picked up the little pot and smiled at the brightly painted design. It really was a sweet gift, and I already knew I’d like looking at it.
Then a folded piece of paper that had been beneath the pot caught my eye. My mouth went desert dry as I picked it up and unfolded it, revealing Caleb’s familiar scrawl.
Allie,
Hope you like this little guy. My grandmother says it only needs watered once a week, and it’ll do fine with minimal sunlight.
This is a thank you for humoring me plant. My evenings have been a lot more fulfilling since you picked up the phone. Consider this a bribe in case you’re getting tired of me.
I’ll talk to you soon (hopefully tonight).
Yours,
CK
I slowly refolded the note and let it rest in my palm.
It felt heavier than a scrap torn from a spiral-bound notebook should have.
The paper was ridged where his pen had pressed into it, the blue ink pooling in the curves of each letter, like he’d gone over them at least twice, giving the words he’d left more meaning.
Caleb wasn’t a reader, and I doubted he was much of a writer, but I could almost see him in my mind, hunched over one of his son’s notebooks at the kitchen table, considering each word he committed with ink.
The last time I’d held paper that felt this heavy, it had been the letter from a lawyer telling me my sister was dead.
Now in my hand was something just as unexpected. Not news that could break me, but if I wasn’t careful, I might end up that way anyway.
This man…did he really have no idea what he was doing? Could a person be so oblivious?
Considering it seemed the entire town had been aware of my feelings, while Caleb had remained in the dark, I’d venture to say the answer was yes.
I groaned again, tucking the note in my pocket, already knowing I’d water that little plant every week without fail.
While cursing Caleb Kelly every single time.