Chapter Eight
Y ou remembered!” I said when I slung open the front door on Saturday morning.
“Of course I did.” Connor handed me a box from the bakery he’d mentioned. “I promised my new friend muffins for breakfast. My grandpa would take a switch to me if I didn’t deliver what I promised, even if I am thirty-four years old. They’re not from his kitchen; I drove up to San Antonio and got them special for you.”
I stepped back and motioned for him to come inside. “Now, that’s a real friend, for sure. Thank you so much for doing that. The coffee is ready. You will eat with me, won’t you?”
“Unless you plan to eat a dozen muffins for breakfast,” he answered. “I have to admit, I only bought six orange-cranberry. The other half dozen are blueberry.”
“I like them, too.” I led the way back to the kitchen. “Maybe we’ll share some of each.”
While I poured coffee, he opened the box and laid out a napkin at two places. He was dressed in camouflage pants and an army green T-shirt that stretched over his broad chest like it had been sprayed on with a can of paint.
“What did you do in the army?” I asked.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. What I did was classified. How about you? What was your job?”
I picked up an orange-cranberry muffin, peeled the paper back, and took a bite. “Oh. My. Gosh. These are even better than the ones I got in Austin. To answer your question, I did taxes, payroll—all those things that big corporations need someone to do for them ... but I quit.”
“Really?” His voice couldn’t hide the surprise.
“Really. But I’ll go to work for my mama and Annie this next week.”
“Are you going to be a cook?”
I shook my head. “No, but I will take care of the finances for them and organize the catering jobs so that they can do the cooking. Think you will be bored by the change from the military to selling strawberries and learning about the oil business?”
“So far, so good.” He flashed a smile that lit up the room. “Grandpa keeps a calendar on his phone, and every day there’s something for us to do. It amazes me how quickly he learned how to use a cell phone.”
A faint whiff of his shaving lotion—something woodsy—drifted across the table. I caught myself before I took a deep breath to get an even better sniff of it. “Aunt Gracie never would have one. She said that her landline was good enough, and she wasn’t going to carry the world around in her apron pocket.”
“Smart woman,” Connor said with a nod. “All this techno stuff is going to be the ruin of the world, for sure.”
“That sounded like something Jasper would say.” I reached for a blueberry muffin at the same time he did, and our hands got tangled up inside the box.
“Our hands have got to stop meeting like this,” he flirted.
“But my hand enjoys it so much,” I teased right back.
His eyes sparkled. “So does mine, but we are friends who have muffins together on Saturdays. Our hands will be disappointed, but we shouldn’t ruin a good friendship.”
“Oh, then this is not a one-time thing?” My hand was still tingling from the heat that had passed between us.
“Oh, no!” he declared with a shake of his head. “Now that the strawberry picking is done, we might both be so busy that we can’t catch up except on muffin mornings. And since we are friends, maybe I could enlist your help in getting the strawberry pavilion folded up and put away until fall?”
“Sure,” I agreed with half a giggle, “but only because we are friends.” If he could pretend to ignore the sparks, then so could I.
“And you get muffins on Saturday?” He wiggled his dark eyebrows.
“Well, there is that.” I peeled the paper off another muffin and bit off a chunk. I needed time for my mind to catch up with my heart, which was a mile ahead of it. Yes, Connor was handsome. The scar on his cheek jacked that up to downright sexy. Yes, his eyes mesmerized me. Yes, he had admitted to feeling chemistry between us.
But was that just one of his many pickup lines? Was he playing me to get me to fall in love with him so he could talk me out of my house and land and leave me with nothing but a broken heart? Those questions sobered me up—or maybe, I should say, they cooled me down. The last words in Aunt Gracie’s diary came back to me, along with a question. If I fell in love with Connor, would I find out whether a broken heart could kill me?
“So, we have a muffin date every Saturday morning?” I asked.
He stood up, crossed the room, and brought back the coffeepot. He topped off my mug and then filled his. “A muffin friendship catchup on Saturday, then, and a friend that helps me tear down canopies.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said.
Does it really? Aunt Gracie’s voice was back in my head. Remember what I told you to do when opportunity knocks on the door?
Invite it in and feed it chocolate cake. What makes you think Connor is an opportunity for anything other than a friend that’s close to my age?
“Earth to Lila ...” Connor’s deep drawl took me away from my visit with Aunt Gracie.
Mama had told me to be careful of Connor because he wanted to buy my house. Apparently, Aunt Gracie did not agree with my mother. I wondered if someone who had passed from this earth and into eternity could see into the future. If so, I wanted her to stick around in my head a while longer, and for a split second I was angry with Connor for interrupting our virtual conversation.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You have to remember that I’m used to being alone a lot, so I talk to myself and argue with the voices in my head. Sometimes I even forget that there is a real person in the room.”
“Well, that’s a first,” he said with a sigh.
“‘First’ what?” I asked.
“Most women don’t think of other things when I’m flirting with them.” Even his whisper had a sexy drawl to it.
“To begin with, I’m not most women,” I said, stifling a chuckle. “And flirting involves romance. We are friends who help each other out and have breakfast together on Saturdays.” Brain, take that reminder!
“Yes, ma’am!” He gave me a smart salute.
“Connor Thurman, you are not in the army anymore!”
“Thanks for the reminder,” he said with a quirky little grin, echoing my thoughts. “And, darlin’, I’m glad I’m in Ditto, Texas. I’ve seen enough of the world for the rest of my life.”
“You can tell me about it while we tear down the stand,” I told him.
“I guess that’s my cue to finish my coffee and last bite of this muffin,” he said as he popped the remainder into his mouth.
“We’re burnin’ daylight,” I told him.
Connor pushed back his chair and carried the paper wrappers to the trash can. “There you go. I did the dishes, and you stole that line from The Cowboys , which happens to be one of Grandpa’s favorites.”
I put the leftover muffins under a glass cake dome and put the two coffee mugs in the dishwasher. “It was one of Aunt Gracie’s, too. Now, let’s get movin’.”
Connor leaned on the doorjamb. “Do you think I’ll ever understand you, Lila?”
“Maybe when I see green tractors flying in the sky,” I smarted off.
“You were right about not being like other women.” He opened the door for me and stood to one side. “Hey, there’s a package on the porch. Must’ve just gotten delivered, because it wasn’t here when I arrived.”
I bent to get it. “That should be Sassy’s new collar and leash.”
When I straightened up, Connor had a smile on his face that reminded me of an old saying I had heard from Aunt Gracie: Grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ wild grapes through a barbed wire fence.
“What’s so ...” I frowned. “You were checking me out, weren’t you?”
“I’m not blind. I can admire a beautiful woman from all angles even if we are only friends.”
I fought a blush creeping up from my neck but lost the battle. I turned my back so Connor wouldn’t see my red cheeks, carried the box inside, and headed toward the back door.
“You don’t have a comeback for that?” he asked as he followed me.
The stack of mail on the credenza had nothing to do with our banter, but I noticed that a couple of pieces had fallen onto the floor. I bent over and picked them up and added them to the ever-growing pile.
“Just being sure you got to see another angle,” I threw over my shoulder. If he could flirt, so could I, even if I did feel like I was playing with fire. “But remember that what is good for the goose is good for the gander. I will pay you back.”
“I will gladly pose for you anytime you want,” he said.
I opened the back door and stepped outside. “Don’t promise what you aren’t willing to deliver.”
“Never have and never will!” Connor waved at Jasper, who was out on his front porch.
I let him have the last word and held the box up for Jasper to see. “Sassy’s collar and leash are here.”
He started to stand up. “I’ll get my wallet, and I won’t have any sass from you about me paying for it.”
“How ’bout you pay for lunch tomorrow at Annie’s and we’ll call it even?” I suggested.
He settled back down into his chair, and I could almost hear his bones squeaking like the hinges on the back door. “It’s a deal, but you could be getting the short end of it.”
“I doubt it because I’m going to order dessert, too,” I teased as I carried the box across the yard. “You open the box, and I’ll help put the new collar on her.”
“Sassy!” Jasper called out, and the dog came running across the yard. “Your Christmas present has arrived early.”
“It’s March,” Connor chuckled. “I think the present has come late.”
“Shhh ...” Jasper scolded. “Sassy don’t know much about holidays just yet, so she’ll believe whatever I tell her.” He opened the box and grinned. “You done good. The collar matches her eyes, and the leash is one of them good ones that gives her room.”
Sassy stopped at his feet and looked up at him with big blue eyes. Her tail thumped against the wood porch boards while he removed the old collar from around her neck.
“I can put the new one on,” Jasper declared. “That way she’ll know it’s really from me.”
“Okay, then,” I said. “Connor and I are going out to take down the strawberry stand.”
“I’m going to take it down, and Lila is going to keep me company,” Connor said.
I propped my hands on my hips and glared at him. “I can and will help. That’s what friends do.”
“Y’all remind me of me and Gracie when we joked around,” Jasper said as he finished buckling the collar around Sassy’s neck.
“Did you ever flirt with her?” I gave Connor a dirty look and then focused on Jasper.
“Yep, I did,” Jasper chuckled. “When I got home from the army, I tried my best lines on her. She let me know right quick that we were best friends and would never be anything more.”
“Because she had feelings for Davis and he was gone?” I asked.
Jasper’s bony finger shot up and moved so fast that it was nothing but a blur. “I’m old, Delilah Grace, but I’m not stupid. You are fishing, but today the fish ain’t bitin’. Now, look at how pretty Sassy looks with her new collar. Thank you for getting these things for her.”
“You are welcome.”
Connor laid a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come on, woman, we’re burnin’ daylight. I have to be in San Antonio by five this evening.”
I brushed his hand away and tried to give him another dose of evil eye, but I giggled. “Two things: don’t steal my lines, and don’t call me woman .”
He started to salute, but I grabbed his arm. “And one more thing ...”
“And that is?” he asked with a big grin.
“Don’t salute me. You’re not in that world anymore.”
“Yes, ma’am!” he said with a nod and a bit of sarcasm.
Jasper slapped his thigh, threw back his head, and laughed. “Thank y’all for reminding me of Gracie today.”
“Anything we can do to make your day,” I said. “You want to go to Mama’s house with me this afternoon? You haven’t been off the place all week.”
“We’ll go to church tomorrow, get us a big old juicy burger from Annie’s, and visit Davis and Gracie after that. That’s enough getting out for this old man this week. Besides, Sassy would miss me real bad if I left right after she got her new collar,” Jasper said. “But we will test out her leash and come out to watch y’all tear down the strawberry stand. I always hate to see the season end. I only see some of the folks once or twice a year if they don’t go to my church.”
He chuckled again when he bent forward and snapped the new leash to Sassy’s new collar. “Davis and Gracie bantered more than me and her. Their eyes would sparkle when they were arguing. I miss that so much, even after all these years. The only ones who put fire in her eyes after he died was you and Sarah, but it was a different kind of twinkle.”
“Tell me a story about something they argued over,” I said.
Jasper smiled, but I saw the haunted look in his eyes.
“Another time, maybe, if I don’t forget by then.” His voice quivered and he cleared his throat. “Sassy wants to go for a walk right now.”
The puppy yapped, and Jasper followed her through the space between the house and the garage—or carriage house, as it was called back when it was built.
“I don’t know which one of you is taking the other for a walk,” Connor called out.
“Don’t matter, as long as we both get to go,” Jasper yelled over his shoulder, then turned around and came back to where we were sitting.
“I guess Sassy got tired,” I said.
The dog plopped down beside the chair where Jasper had been sitting, put her paws over her eyes, and went to sleep as if I’d commanded her.
“Never know what this critter wants. Most days she probably don’t have any idea what she wants,” Jasper said. “I was thinking about a story to tell y’all while we took that short walk.”
“Is it a story about Gracie and Davis bantering?” I asked.
Jasper chuckled and then laughed so hard that his eyes disappeared into wrinkles. “It was the spring after strawberry season was finished.” He pulled a red bandanna out of the pocket of his bibbed overalls and wiped his face. “There was still quite a few that could be harvested. Gracie, Davis, and I decided to pick enough to make us up a batch of strawberry wine.”
“How did you know how to even start?” I asked.
“Gracie found a recipe for it in one of her grandmother’s old cookbooks. She snuck it out of the house ...” He paused and rubbed his chin. “I betcha that cookbook is still somewhere in the house. All the recipes in it are handwritten. Anyway, we had to hurry up and copy it down so she could put it back before her folks missed it—or worse yet, before Miz Rita or my grandmother missed it. Miz Betty wouldn’t have ever looked at a cookbook. Davis’s mama and Granny took care of all that. Gracie’s handwriting was better than us boys’ chicken scratch, so she took care of that job while me and Davis got us a pail and went to pickin’ strawberries.”
“Doesn’t it take a long time to make wine?” Connor asked.
Jasper’s grin got bigger. “Not if teenage kids are making it.”
“Where did you ...” I paused and looked out across the property.
Jasper pointed toward the oil pumpers out in the distance. “There used to be a barn out there. Mr. Clarence stored hay when he ran cattle. It was blown away by the same tornado that wiped out mine and Granny’s old place. In those days, us two boys hauled hay for him in the spring and summers, but that’s a story for another time. We were talking about the wine we made. Most of the stuff we needed, other than the strawberries, Gracie swiped from the kitchen.” He dragged the red bandanna from the pocket again and wiped his brow. “A few years ago, Gracie and I watched an episode of I Love Lucy where she stomped grapes with her feet. If we’d have stomped them strawberries like Lucy did the grapes, we would have got ourselves caught for sure since we couldn’t have washed all that red stain off our feet.” He dissolved into laughter, wiping his face again.
Connor and I got tickled, more at his amusement than with the memory in his head. We had been listening to the story while we loaded up the two tables. Before we folded the chairs and put them into the bed of Connor’s truck, we sat down to really listen.
Jasper stuffed his bandanna back into his pocket. “According to the recipe, we was supposed to let it age for a year, but that’s a lifetime to kids. On the Fourth of July, Gracie’s folks threw a big party ...” He paused, and a frown took the place of his smile. “They said that Gracie was old enough to come to the big wingding, but she refused to go, since they wouldn’t let me and Davis go unless we wanted to be part of the help. That girl was so mad, I thought for sure she’d either kick holes in the barn or else storm inside the house and ruin the whole party.”
Connor leaned forward in his chair. “Is that the end of the story? What happened to the wine making?”
“I’m gettin’ to it,” Jasper declared. “I’m trying to remember just how it went. After the big argument with her folks over that party, they grounded her to her room, which was fine with her. She waited until the people were milling about the front yard where tables had been set up, and she walked right out the back door. Me and Davis were waitin’ for her in the barn. We sat on the grass and listened to her fuss about the party. Then, after dark, we watched the fireworks. That’s when Gracie got the bright idea of us opening our two bottles of wine that were aging.”
Sassy stood up, yawned, and pulled on the leash. Jasper stopped talking and rubbed her head. “You got to learn to be patient, little girl. We’ll try for a walk again when I finish my story.”
“Where did you get the bottles to put the wine in?” I asked.
“Mr. Clarence and Miz Betty always had a glass of wine with their supper. Gracie just pilfered a couple of empties when they were thrown away. She even saved the corks. That night we passed the first bottle around until it was all gone and then opened the second one and did the same thing.”
“Did you get drunk?” Connor asked.
“After all these years, I’m not sure if we were drunk or just thought we were, but we sure giggled a lot, and we all had a headache the next morning,” Jasper said. “And now I’ve told you about my favorite memory from strawberry season, and it’s time for Sassy to have her morning walk. Besides, you’ve got work to do, and I’m keeping you from it.”
“But we want to hear more about the first time y’all got drunk,” Connor said.
Jasper shook his head and stood up. “Not much more to tell there except to say that that night was the first time Gracie was really rebellious, but it wasn’t the last. More stories later. Sassy and I are going for our walk so she can show off her new collar and leash.” He and the pup slowly walked across the grass and around the house.
“Did Miz Gracie ever tell you that story?” Connor asked me when Jasper had disappeared down the lane.
“Nope.” I stood up and folded the chair I’d been sitting in. “She once told me that the past was gone and should be forgiven. The future was just a glimmer of hope on the horizon; the present was what we had, and we should live it to the fullest.”
“Good advice,” Connor said. “But forgiveness is tough, and not planning for the future is even rougher, don’t you agree?”
“Wholeheartedly,” I told him and thought again of the last entry in Aunt Gracie’s little pink diary about dying from a broken heart.
And that’s the reason I’m ignoring the sparks between us. I don’t know if I can trust you for anything more than what we are today.