15. Big Deal
Chapter 15
Big Deal
H arper patted her face dry with a fluffy white towel she had found stacked in the bathroom. There was a pink sticky note on top that read —
I brought you the good towels.
Let me know if you need anything else.
— Oakleigh
She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the clean white aesthetic had been Oakleigh’s contribution to the rustic country home.
Relishing the soft comforts of the fine linens, she hated that she felt grateful for the kind gesture. She glanced down at her nails, and had to admit the color wasn’t as horrendous as she had implied. It was odd to be free of the acrylics she had worn for decades, but there was also a surprising sense of freedom.
Taking the tube of foundation from her makeup case, she squeezed a dab into her palm, and patted it onto her skin with a foam beauty blender. She was already feeling like herself again as she whisked mascara onto her eyelashes. It was the bare minimum to her usual daily routine. Gone were the days of personal makeup artists who would meet her every morning for a crisp new look. The sense of loss brought to mind Oakleigh’s role in sending the Davenport Ministries bank account plummeting into the red.
Crumpling up Oakleigh’s kind gesture, she tossed it into the little garbage can.
Harper leaned her palms on the countertop in the oppressively silent bathroom. Her thoughts were louder than ever that day, and the walls felt like they were closing in around her. She ran her hands over her designer jeans, giving her outfit one last glance in the mirror. Her only compromise for the cold weather was pulling on the hideous heavy winter jacket over her delicate white top.
She decided that any offer that would get her out of the stifling ranch house was worth whatever hardships or inconveniences she would have to endure. Leaving her room, she went down the hall and descended the stairs.
Rounding the corner, she caught Maeve and Oakleigh on their way out the door.
“I’m going to take you up on your offer after all,” Harper announced.
Maeve looked to Oakleigh, who returned a half-hearted nod .
“Sure, Harp,” Maeve replied, visibly ignoring Harper’s cringe at her childhood nickname. “There’s plenty of room in the truck.”
“Actually,” Oakleigh interjected, “I’ll be driving.”
Maeve rolled her eyes as she slipped on her aviator sunglasses. “You get in one little accident, and they think they’ve got to pack you in bubble wrap.”
Harper saw her opportunity and seized it.
“ Really , Maeve,” she scolded. “Why is everything an argument with you?” The astonishment that crossed her sister’s face fueled her. “Oakleigh, I trust your judgment,” Harper continued, striding past them outside into the biting cold. “I’ll ride with you.”
“Harper,” Maeve called after her. “You’re going to freeze.”
“I might,” Harper flung over her shoulder. She closed her eyes and inhaled the frigid mountain air deeply into her lungs, determined not to react to them turning to ice in her chest. “But at least I’ll look good doing it.”
The glacial wind pierced through her designer jeans, and Harper began to regret every life decision that had led her to that moment.
It was a relief when she climbed into the passenger seat of the Jeep, which was a tinge warmer than the outside air. Confident that the place was usually reserved for Maeve, she could handle any amount of discomfort when it came to bringing her smug sister down a peg .
Maeve didn’t say a word as she quietly took a seat in the back. Pulling off her gray beanie hat, she ran her fingers through her wavy brown hair.
Oakleigh glanced in the rearview mirror, unable to hide her irritation. Maeve returned a gesture, indicating that everything was fine.
Their unspoken understanding reignited Harper’s jealousy.
“Why on earth did you choose a Jeep, Oakleigh?” Harper scoffed. “How pedestrian.”
Oakleigh’s eyebrow shot up as she stepped on the gas and steered the Jeep down the snowy driveway. “I seem to remember having a much nicer car at some point, but — ”
“Oakleigh,” Maeve interrupted, intent on keeping the fragile peace. “Keep your eyes on the road, and take it slow.”
“She knows how to drive, Maeve,” Harper cut in again, attempting to exchange a quick eye roll with her daughter, who did not reciprocate in the slightest. “Oakleigh, remember when I taught you to drive?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Oakleigh replied, giving Harper a glance from the corner of her eye. “Mom, you’ve got to be freezing.”
“I’m not,” Harper declared, hoping to conceal the shiver that had traveled into her voice. If she were honest, every part of her body felt like it was being stabbed by a million tiny icicles. Her hands were completely numb despite being tucked tightly under her armpits. “Honestly, Maeve. Why would you ever choose to live here? ”
“I have an answer to that,” Maeve stated, focusing out the window at the white powdery landscape. “But I don’t think you’re ready to hear it.”
Even if Maeve had no intention of opening the old wounds, she had.
“Well, congratulations, Maeve,” she hurled back. “You’re finally right about something.”
“Mom, enough,” Oakleigh pleaded. “Just stop.”
“I’ll stop,” Harper snarled, flinging her hand into the air.
The rest of the drive was tensely silent until Oakleigh turned off the highway. When they reached the snow-covered bridge that led into town, they were met with a wall of bright red brake lights.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Oakleigh whispered.
Maeve shuffled into the middle seat, studying the line of cars through the windshield. “Oakleigh, have you been posting?”
“Like maybe — once?” Oakleigh said, her tone went high in a way that incriminated her.
They inched down Main Street until they finally reached Ruth’s Coffee. Oakleigh pulled into her reserved parking spot and stepped out onto the pavement.
Harper pushed her door open, nearly falling from the height of the lifted Jeep. She composed herself, sweeping her hands over the pantlegs of her jeans.
Oakleigh examined the long line of shivering customers that wrapped around the shop .
“What are you all doing here?” she announced. “It’s winter!” As if their lips turning blue in the sub-zero temperatures hadn’t alerted them to that fact.
Despite their frozen fingers, her young fans still fumbled with their phones to capture a quick selfie with the ever-trending influencer.
Oakleigh swiped the phone from a fan and stuffed it back into the pocket of the woman’s puffy jacket.
“Go home,” she ordered.
A young man with an icicle forming on his thick nose ring spoke up in a loud voice, catching Oakleigh’s attention. “You said the church is opening next week.”
“Wait,” Maeve chimed in, stepping forward. “She said what now?”
“Um, well,” Oakleigh stammered, her eyes widening as she appeared to be scrambling for a quick response to salvage the situation.
“Last week,” shouted another girl with pink hair, flipping around to snap a selfie with Maeve and Oakleigh in the background.
“Just look happy, Maeve,” Oakleigh deflected. Maintaining her forced smile, she edged toward the shop. “For the fans.”
Maeve was clearly not having it. She crossed her arms, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Okay, I said it,” Oakleigh admitted. Sliding her red beanie back, she avoided Maeve’s eye contact altogether.“I went live with Crew — and you know how much they adore him, almost as much as they love you.”
“Do we know how many are in town?” Maeve inquired, taking charge.
The comforting tenor of June’s voice, which could warm someone up in the coldest of weather, broke through the chaos. “Oh, a few hundred, I’d say,” she declared. She wore a puffy floral jacket and a knit cap over her silver braided hair. Her voice was muffled by a violet scarf that covered her lips from the cold.
“You’re kidding me,” Maeve replied, looking away as though quietly calculating.
“‘Fraid’ not — word is every place in town is booked solid,” June attested, pushing through the cafe door with a loud jingle. “I’ll see you inside, ladies. It’s one heck of a cold day.”
Bethany caught the door before it could close. She squeezed past them with a friendly smile and a fresh coffee in hand. “Excuse me, ladies,” she said, “You look busy, so I won’t bother you,” she chimed. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Bethany,” Maeve said, putting on what looked to be a genuine smile despite being drawn out from the midst of the extraordinary predicament. “It’s always good to see you,” she said, giving her a hug.
“Let Sawyer know —” Bethany hesitated, sensing the urgency in Oakleigh’s tense expression. “You know, this looks important,” she pivoted. “I’ll just talk to him next Sunday. ”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Oakleigh said, returning to the problem she created.
While the two women strategized a solution, Harper noted Maeve’s frustration. She wondered if her sister would finally lose her composure over Oakleigh’s absolute carelessness.
To her dismay, Maeve finally spoke up with not even a whisper of annoyance in her expression. Her tone held only sweet reassurance.
“Well, under the circumstances,” Maeve concluded. “I guess I better get to the church and make sure we’re on schedule.”
Oakleigh sighed.
“I really thought it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“We’ll figure this out,” Maeve replied, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “We always do.”
She took a deep breath, exhaling into an icy cloud.
“I can’t believe I’m actually asking you to do this,” Maeve said, “but please go live again and let them know the town is at capacity.”
Oakleigh nodded in agreement.
The cohesive teamwork between the two made Harper want to put her fist through the glass door. She was certain there would come a time when Maeve’s expert coping skills would fail. She knew that the same temper hardwired inside of her, was also still simmering somewhere within her younger sister. Harper was determined to be there when it happened, taking advantage of every weakness .
She was relieved to see Maeve disappear across the street and into the little white church. Harper trailed Oakleigh into the warm shop, frowning with disappointment at her witless compliance.
“You know, Oakleigh,” Harper prodded. “You don’t have to do everything she tells you to do.”
Oakleigh straightened. “I know that.”
The door jingled loudly as it closed behind them. Audrey was behind the register, looking frenzied while she scrambled to complete the complicated drink orders for the impatient, shivering guests. The smell of charred pastries filled the air, and smoke began to billow from the oven, setting off the shrill whine of the smoke alarm.
Oakleigh quickly pulled a red apron off the wall. Looping it over her head, she tied it around her waist.
“Audrey!” Oakleigh shouted over the raucous symphony of earsplitting noises. She yanked a pair of mitts off the counter and flung open the oven door, causing even more black smoke to fill the small cafe. Grasping the pan of charred cinnamon rolls with her mitted hands, she rushed to the back door and hurled them into the snowy alleyway.
When Oakleigh came back in through the kitchen, her teeth were clenched, and there was fury in her eyes.
It was a look that Harper recognized well. Even though she could manipulate Oakleigh’s emotions like a puppet on a string, she was relieved not to be the focus of her daughter’s explosive temper .
“I’m so sorry, Oakleigh,” Audrey spluttered, her eyes already brimming with tears. “We got slammed with customers.”
“You have one job,” Oakleigh said, her tone lowering dangerously. “Make coffee and avoid burning the shop down.”
Audrey’s eyes flicked to the corner of the room. “That’s technically —”
“Choose your next words very carefully,” Oakleigh warned.
She wilted as Oakleigh whisked past her and went straight to work, catching up on the orders piling up on the counter. Audrey’s eyes glossed over with tears, resuming her place at the register.
Harper beamed with pride over Oakleigh’s firm hand. She considered how it was precisely the way she would have handled the situation. She was surprised that Oakleigh had kept her cool despite the rage she knew was brewing behind those expressive hazel eyes. Yet she found satisfaction in knowing the young woman hadn’t lost all her grit.
Sitting at a table in the corner of the shop, Harper quietly took heed of how Oakleigh’s charm brought a spark back to the weary faces of the frozen travelers.
The line moved quickly with Oakleigh at the helm, and eventually, she brought Harper her drink.
“Sorry for the wait, Mom,” she said, setting the mug on the table. “Audrey is a disaster.”
“Don’t ever be sorry,” Harper ordered. “You’re a Davenport.” Raising the mug to her lips, she took a long sip of the steaming hot, black coffee. She clutched the warm mug until the feeling returned to her frozen fingers.
“Right, well—” Oakleigh replied, looking as though she were unsure if her mother’s statement was one she wanted to be proud of. “I better get back to work.”
“And Oakleigh,” Harper chimed, causing her daughter to stop in her tracks. “It’s like I’ve always taught you,” she reminded. “Handle your business.”
Oakleigh looked uneasy but nodded nonetheless. Turning back toward the register, all of her discomfort seemed to evaporate as she was immediately scooped up in the strong arms of her cute cowboy.
His blonde hair was tucked into a gray-speckled beanie cap, and his eyes shone with unbridled adoration.
Barely hiding the flash of envy, Harper allowed comparison to creep in. It had been longer than she could remember since any man had valued her that way.
Oakleigh practically melted into his arms, entirely at ease in his embrace.
“So it turns out I might have made a mistake,” she informed, her words muffled into his jacket. “All these people are here to see the church open, and they’re probably going to freeze.”
“Oh, Maeve told me all about it,” he chuckled, flashing his perfect white smile. “Like she said, we’ll figure it out.” He pulled her in close again as she wrapped her arms tightly around his middle .
Audrey came up behind them both. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but now she had a whimsical smile splashed across her face. She presented Oakleigh with a cup of coffee.
“Here you go,” she announced with an obnoxious wink at Crew. “Just the way you ordered it.”
“Thanks — I guess?” Oakleigh’s raised an eyebrow. “Is she ever just normal?”
Crew smirked. “I think that is her normal.” He bit his lip nervously, watching her take her first sip.
Oakleigh began to sputter and cough, causing Crew’s eyes to widen with alarm.
“What in the —” Oakleigh choked, spitting an object in her hand. She fired a look at Audrey that could kill, causing the young woman to immediately wither away. “That girl is trying to kill me, Crew.”
His face went bright red, and sweat glistened on his brow. “It’s me, actually,” he winced. “I’m the one trying to kill you.”
Oakleigh lifted the coffee-soaked diamond ring from her palm with two fingers. “We talked about this, Crew,” she sighed.
June walked by with her vanilla latte and squeezed Crew’s shoulder. “Nice try, cowboy,” she acknowledged, her gaze bouncing between the two as her raucous cackle echoed through the shop.
“I could have choked to death,” Oakleigh stated, pulling out his palm and placing the ring firmly in the center of it. “Not a cute way to go — although it would definitely go viral,” she acknowledged, putting her finger in the air to accentuate her point. “Not cute.”
He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “You aren’t too mad, are ya?”
A smile dashed across Oakleigh’s face. She wrapped her hands around him again and buried her head in his muscular chest.
Relief swept over the handsome cowboy as he kissed the top of her blonde head. “I’ll get it right, I promise.”
When they finally relinquished from their nauseatingly long embrace, Crew’s eyes connected with Harper in the dark corner of the cafe. “I think I’ll have a chat with your mom for a bit,” he ventured.
Oakleigh watched nervously as he began to turn in the direction of her mother. “Let me know if she says anything mean.”
“If I can tame Big Slim,” he mused with a grin, “I’m sure I can handle her just fine.”
Oakleigh’s eyes narrowed. “You were nearly trampled to death, remember?”
“No faith,” he replied, lifting her chin for one last kiss. “Wish me luck.”
“I’ll be praying,” Oakleigh responded dryly.
He stepped over to Harper’s table and pulled out the chair. “May I join you, Mrs. Davenport?”
His country drawl made Harper’s nose scrunch in disgust .
“You may,” she replied calmly, making a welcoming gesture to the open seat. “Just — call me Harper.”
“Okay,” he agreed. He sat down and folded his hands on the rustic wood table top. “Are you having a good visit?”
Crew’s weak attempt at small talk caused her impatience to rise.
“Let’s get to the point, Crew,” Harper demanded sharply, savoring the ability to fluster the usually calm, cool cowboy.
He cleared his throat, appearing to steel his already failing nerves. “Well, I just can’t seem to get this proposal thing right.”
She sat back and crossed her arms.
“So ask your mom — Maeve is your mom, right?” she feigned ignorance. “I can’t figure out this family for the life of me.”
“She’s as close to a mom as I’ve ever had,” he answered. Shuffling nervously, he tapped his fingers on the table.
Harper’s annoyance was palpable.
She meant it to be.
“In that case, where’s your real mom?”
“She’s an alcoholic,” Crew disclosed. His darting gaze indicated it was not only his least favorite topic of conversation, but that his current audience didn’t feel safe to confide in. “I suppose that’s why Oakleigh and me —”
He stopped midsentence.
Harper’s lip pulled into a smirk. She had the young cowboy right where she wanted him. “That’s why you and Oakleigh what?”
“Oh, nothin’,” Crew backpedaled, adjusting his posture.
“Finish your thought, Crew,” Harper dared.
Crew gulped hard. “That’s why we connected so well.”
“So, I’m an alcoholic?” Harper crossed her arms. “Is that the story Oakleigh’s spinning these days?”
“I — I don’t know what to say,” Crew stammered.
Harper casually crossed her legs, brightening her tone. “Now, what was it you needed to ask me?”
“I just thought,” Crew exhaled, steadying himself. “You’ve known Oakleigh longer than anyone.” His words came fast now, as though he couldn’t wait to bring the uncomfortable conversation to an end. “Maybe you’d know the best way to propose?”
Harper didn’t want to admit that she was hardly familiar with the version of Oakleigh he had fallen in love with. Never allowing an opportunity to go to waste, Harper aimed for the jugular.
“Have you ever considered that perhaps you’re not the right one for her?” she suggested, savoring the look of dismay that flashed across the handsome young man’s expression.
“Wh — what do you mean?” Crew blurted.
“I mean,” Harper emphasized. “Oakleigh was raised to expect a certain lifestyle — despite all this simple life nonsense, I know she still wants finer things.”
His words quickened again, going on the defense. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen me ride, but I’m kind of a big deal in rodeo,” he explained. “I can give her any kind of life she wants.” There was an earnestness in his eyes that begged for Harper to believe him.
“If you’re still here in a few days, you can see me compete,” he rambled. “It’s for charity and all — but you can see me in action.”
“I’m sure I won’t be,” Harper paused, knowing the silence was further eroding his confidence. “Tell me, what happens if you get hurt? Do you think you’ll be a big deal then?”
“I’ll take care of her, Mrs. —” he shook his head, correcting himself. “Harper.”
Harper leaned forward, clasping her hands on the tabletop. “This whole cowgirl farm thing is a phase,” she shrugged, giving him a sad smile. “Granted, a longer one than I expected, but before you know it,” she said, snapping her fingers and causing him to flinch. “Oakleigh will get bored, and she’ll be back to chasing tan surfers before you can say yeehaw — that is what your people say, right?”
Crew fumbled for his next words as Oakleigh stepped in to interrupt the conversation, setting a mug of coffee down on the table with a loud bang.
“Everything okay over here?”
Taking his opportunity, Crew pushed his chair back from the table with a squeal on the concrete floors. Harper shuddered at the shrill noise, which reminded her of the crowing from that confounded rooster.
“I’m going to take my coffee to go. ”
He gave Harper one last apprehensive glance before leaning in and kissing Oakleigh goodbye. “I’d rather take my chances with Big Slim any day,” he whispered. “I’ll see you back at the ranch.”
He swung the door open, causing an aggressive jingle.
Now that they were alone, Oakleigh faced Harper with her hands on her hips. “Did you say something mean to my boyfriend?”
Harper calmly raised her eyes to meet hers.
“Just telling him the truth.”
Oakleigh pursed her lips as though she were holding back a million things she wanted to say. She crossed her arms and looked away, taking a deep breath before she spoke. “The shop is pretty busy today, Mom. I could really use this table.
“If you’re throwing me out, then say it,” Harper challenged, running her tongue over her smooth white veneers. “I never taught you to be a coward.”
Oakleigh’s eyes met hers with a coldness that fed Harper’s self-loathing.
“I’m throwing you out.”
Harper stood, lifting the mug to her lips for one last gulp of coffee before setting it down hard on the table.
“There she is,” Harper observed with a smug smile. She stepped past Oakleigh and went to the door, pushing it open and allowing the blustery winter snow to swirl into the shop.
“That’s the girl I raised.”