Horses and Flowers #3
Tim winked. “When I met you in the ranch kitchen.”
“Stealing cookies.” Maria put her head on one side. “But I heard you telling somebody after that that you weren’t gonna ask me out.”
“Huh?” Tim ran a hand through his hair. “Dang, you heard that. Yeah. At the time I was still trying to figure out what to do about Annabelle. It didn’t seem like a good idea to ask out her cousin.”
That made sense, but Maria pulled a pouty face. “And here I thought I wasn’t pretty enough to interest you.”
Tim groaned, leaning back against his seat with his eyes closed. “Another stupid mistake. No wonder you didn’t want to go out with me.”
Maria nudged his foot under the table. “Well, I’m glad I’m out with you now.”
He smiled, sitting forward again. “That’s something.”
The waitress came back, pad in hand. “Anybody for dessert?”
“Absolutely,” Tim said. “We’ve had a long day on the ranch. I can’t think of anybody who needs dessert worse.”
Maria laughed. “I’ve still got half my meal left,” she said. “But if you insist—the broken cheesecake sounds really good.”
§
Lingering over dessert and a glass of wine after Tim had paid the bill, Tim and Maria both looked up surprised when the waitress came by.
“I hate to bother you,” the waitress said, “but we have to do brunch in the morning, and—”
“I know how that is,” Maria said, getting up. “Don’t worry—you’re fine!”
They went out into the cool night air. It was completely dark, and the lights of the town twinkled up and down the main street. It was windy. Maria shivered.
“Cold?” Tim turned to her. “Aw, I don’t have my coat. Here, let’s do this.” He took off his hat and set it on Maria’s head. “They say you lose about ten percent of your body heat through your head.”
Maria smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
They started walking toward the car. “Here, let’s see if this helps too.” Tim’s arm came around Maria’s shoulders, warm and secure.
Maria smirked. “If you were a little younger, and we were at a movie theater, I’d think you were trying to pull a fast move.”
He laughed. “Not so smooth, am I?”
“I like honest better than smooth,” Maria said. “It seems more trustworthy.”
“Ah,” Tim said. “The Montana Rider always tried to be smooth. Is that why you lost interest in him?”
“Well, the Montana Rider wasn’t interested in me,” Maria said. “And then I got to know you better.”
“Yeah, the Rider friend-zoned you pretty hard,” Tim said. “I was afraid my alter ego was getting too interesting. And I did think you should be careful about going around alone at night. You and Savannah.”
“Savannah!” Maria shook her head. “She really needs some more things to do around here.”
“Well, I’ve got some ideas,” Tim said. “Now that she knows the Montana Rider is just me, she won’t ride around at night looking for him. And maybe we can get Annabelle and Elijah to include her more. If not, you don’t mind a thirteen-year-old third wheel every once in a while, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Maria said. “That was a great night, the time we played poker and hide-and-seek. That was when I knew I wanted to be friends with you, even if it wasn’t more than just friends.”
“Really?” Tim said. “Anything in particular?”
“I’m not sure,” Maria said. “It came on gradually. Playing poker with Savannah—and I know you let her win—talking when we were both hiding in the den—it was just a really good time. And I realized how much I enjoyed hanging out with you.”
“Wow,” Tim said. “I was afraid you were annoyed Savannah had invited me to hang out with the two of you.”
“I was surprised,” Maria said, “but I guess I felt more awkward than annoyed.”
Tim laughed. “Awkward’s good,” he said. “Just shows you’re human.”
§
One truck ride and one rosary later, Tim and Maria approached the front of the ranch house. The inside lights were still on, and a porch light shone over the side door. Maria set down her box of leftover food next to the door.
“Well,” Tim said, and stopped, as though he couldn’t think of the right words. The porch light turned his hair to gold, and Maria put a hand to her head.
“I almost forgot to give you your hat.”
Tim shook his head. “Keep it.”
“But it’s your best hat!”
“Who says I can’t give it to my best girl?” Tim smiled down at her, big and strong and trustworthy, and Maria’s heart skipped a beat.
“Thank you, Tim,” she said. “For everything.”
“Anytime,” Tim said. “Thank you—for being you.” He hesitated. “Truth or dare.”
Maria put her head on one side. What was he doing now? “Truth.”
“Do you have any idea how beautiful and incredible you are?” Tim reached to smooth back her hair, escaping from underneath one side of the hat. His touch was gentle, especially for someone who worked rough stock all day.
Maria smiled. “When you say it,” she said, “I feel like a princess. Actually, that’s my dad’s nickname for me.”
“Well, I won’t take over your dad’s special nickname,” Tim said. “I’ll have to come up with my own. Now it’s your turn to ask me.”
“Truth or dare?” Maria asked.
“Truth.”
“This isn’t just a summer romance, is it?” The question came out in a whisper. It felt like a big thing to ask, but Maria needed to know. “Are we going to last?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know?” he said. “My fault. I told you I was serious, but I haven’t showed you.”
Bending down, he kissed her, firmly yet gently, his non-injured arm around her, and it was like all the fireworks in the world had gone off at once.
“There,” he said, pulling back a little, his arm still around her shoulders. “I love you, Maria. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I love you too,” Maria said, and it felt like a confession, like a weight had been lifted from her. “And I’m not afraid anymore. I trust you, Tim.”
He smiled, and the happiness coming from him warmed Maria to the core of her being. “Glad to hear it.”
Maria threw her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him again, and he chuckled, holding her close under the big Montana sky.