Chapter 7 #2
“Tell you what, you can buy next time.” He dropped a couple of bills on the table, then walked out with Elizabeth.
Next time? He wanted a next time. There could be no next time. Ryder Donovan threatened to be a huge distraction. But deep, deep down, she wanted a next time. And when Ryder gently held her arm on their way to her car, Elizabeth did not pull away.
He held open her car door, but didn’t want her to leave. Things were starting to feel good between them. If Sinatra hadn’t stopped singing, and the tiramisu hadn’t arrived, he’d still be on the dance floor with Elizabeth in his arms.
Despite her uptight got-to-get-an-education personality, she was easy to be with and Ryder wondered if he saw a side of her she didn’t know existed.
“Hey, can you spare thirty minutes?” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll have you back here by eight thirty, eight forty-five.”
“To where are you kidnapping me, Donovan?”
“You’ll see.”
Two minutes later, they were in his truck driving down River Road toward Wade Reed and the fire tower.
They were quiet on the way over with the radio playing softly in the background. When Buck Mathews’s first big hit came on, they sang softly along.
>s>What a lucky man I am/ I’ve seen love.
’Cause when you walked in the room/I saw nothing but
You, you, you, only you, you, you
My heart will never be the same.
I just had to know your name.
From that day on, I knew…I’d never be the same.>s>
Off Wade Reed, Ryder cut down a dirt road and through the vanishing rays of the setting sun, his F250 cutting through dry, overgrown brush and branches. Buck’s song gave way to Foy Vance’s “Guiding Light,” and the romantic melody sank into Ryder’s bones.
If not for the bend in the road and the ravine that folded down to the river, he’d keep on driving toward eternity. As long as Elizabeth was by his side. These thoughts, these feelings came from the secret places in his heart, bypassing all reason.
“Is that the old fire tower?” She leaned forward to see out the windshield.
“The one I supposedly bought cherrywood to repair.” Ryder parked and popped open his door. The melody of “Guiding Light” cut off, but all of Ryder’s feels remained. When he opened Elizabeth’s door, he sank into the scent of her presence.
“It’s beautiful here,” she whispered, standing beside him in the hushed, pure quiet of the WMA. “So reverently quiet.”
“It’s my church every weekday.” He made his way to the steps, shining his flashlight over the rotten portions. “Careful,” he said, reaching for her hand.
He showed her the best boards to grab on her way up, then followed. At the top, the summer moon was just making its appearance in the twilight sky.
“It’s so peaceful here.” Elizabeth stepped to the left side of the tower.
“It’s my sanctuary,” Ryder said. “Nothing preaches more than God’s own creation. I wish He’d make it rain.”
She glanced back at him, causing his heart to kick up a beat or two. “I love that you’ve not let the past make you bitter.”
“Who says I haven’t?”
Her white, even smile defied the shadows. “Me. I see it in you.”
“Keep telling me that, okay? I have moments where it’s not easy. If I were a dad, my wife and kids would be my priority. Even if it cost me money or a promotion.”
Ryder waited for her to say something about family, but instead she said, “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“I want to show you something.” He turned her to the opposite tower wall, or what remained of it, and aimed his phone’s flashlight. “See this? MD loves BC.”
“Look at all the carvings,” she said, repeating the initials. Then, “Pops and Granny?” Elizabeth traced the letters and read the date underneath. “Five-eight-sixty…May 8, 1960. Look, here’s another one. And another. ED hearts JM. Ethan and Julie. February 2, 2018.”
“I think my grandparents are on here someplace,” Ryder said.
“Ryder, you can’t destroy these boards. It’s Hearts Bend history. I’m not sentimental about much, but these are priceless. You could add your initials one day.” She shifted away from him with that declaration. “You know, when you meet the right girl.”
What if she’s standing in front of me right now?
“If I’m living here. I suppose. Sure.” Maybe he should shove off, go to Colorado, stop this free fall into love with a girl who had no romantic interest in him. Who was leaving town in a few weeks without looking back.
“So when are you going to start repairs?” Elizabeth inspected another set of initials, noting one from 1882. “I’d love to help.”
“This week. I’m still on limited duty. I have all the supplies.
Travis is still hot about expenses I didn’t accrue, but I’m not waiting.
You’re right, this tower is part of Hearts Bend history.
A testimony of love.” He motioned to the carved boards.
“If he’s finding hot water to boil me in, what’s another bucket? ”
Elizabeth squeezed his arm. “That’s the spirit.”
He laughed. “I think I’ll take the boards with initials, trim them up, varnish them, and tack them along the walls.”
“Seriously, I want to help. Let me know.”
“When are you not working?” He winked at her.
“Okay, wise guy, touché.” When she swatted at him, he caught her arm and pulled her close. “I’ll text you when I’m not…” She ran her hand up to his shoulders. “Um, you know, working.”
If she said anything else, he missed it, because everything in him shouted kiss her. But she twisted free.
“Careful,” he said just as her foot broke through one of the weak, crumbling boards. “Elizabeth.” He grabbed her hands to keep her from falling back, then aided her onto her feet.
“That was dumb of me.” She bent to inspect her leg under the glow of his flashlight. A red scrape ran from her ankle to her knee, but no blood.
“This is on me. I should’ve warned you earlier.” Ryder examined her calf. “The skin’s not broken. But get some antiseptic on it just the same.”
When he rose up, she was so close he could almost hear her heartbeat. Ryder stepped closer and slipped his arm around her waist as the moonlight haloed her dark hair.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
“So…so are you.” She was breathless and supple, leaning against him.
One inch, and he could taste her kiss. But as he dropped his gaze to her sweet, parted lips, he went cold with the realization he wasn’t kissing Elizabeth Dorsey tonight or any other night.
“Elizabeth, I, um—” He eased his hold on her.
“We should get going.” She exited his arms again, carefully sidestepping the broken board.
“Yeah, I promised I’d have you back by eight thirty, eight forty-five at the latest.”
Ryder helped her down the tower’s ladder, shaking free of his desires, blaming the moonlight, the dumb songs on the radio, and the stand-up man values his dear departed grandpa had insisted on instilling.
As he drove her to Angelo’s for her car, they talked about the initials carved in the old tower, how Granny and Pops won the senior three-legged race at the Scott’s Fourth of July party, and if the good Lord would ever bring rain.
He waited while she started her vintage VW Bug and headed west toward home. He drove to his place, windows open, blowing the last of her perfume around the truck’s cab.
Despite the fire Elizabeth Dorsey stirred in his bones, he could not—would not—steal what he suspected was her first kiss.
She could give it if she wanted, but he’d not take it.
While the night bourgeoned with the sights, sounds, and smells of a perfect evening, falling in love with Elizabeth Dorsey was nowhere near a reality.
She had goals and dreams. Even more, she was the kind of girl who deserved her first kiss from the man she wanted to love the rest of her life.
Inside Granny and Pops’s, Elizabeth leaned against the front door. Ryder didn’t kiss her. Why didn’t he kiss her? Her heart had been pounding so hard she could barely breathe. But thank goodness he hadn’t. Because the way he made her feel…She wasn’t sure she would’ve stopped him.
She glanced at herself in the hall mirror. “You know darn well you cannot let him kiss you.”
“Is that you, Beth?” Granny called from the family room.
“It’s the boogeyman, Granny.” Her voice wavered with bottled-up tears. No, she’d not cry. Women bound for Fortune 100 companies did not cry. Women carrying the kissing virus were bound for a life without romance. She’d have to buck up. “He’s demanding chocolate cake for a ransom.”
“Chocolate cake?” Granny appeared in the doorway in her yoga pants and oversized UT T-shirt. At eighty-two, she looked youthful, at rest in her soul. Elizabeth felt restless, full of turmoil. “You’re in luck. I have one slice left.” She made a face as she moved toward Elizabeth. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Then, “Oh, Granny.” She fell into her warm, soft embrace and wept.