6. Bliss
Bliss
I can’t believe I just told Zane I would think about marrying him.
When did I reduce something so special into a business transaction?
I drive home in silence. I can’t even listen to music right now; the thoughts in my mind are too loud.
This is ridiculous. Why would I marry him? It would be a horrible idea. I’ve had a crush on him for a year now. If I were to marry him, it would probably break my heart to live in the same house while he never returned an ounce of affection.
My feelings for Zane started to grow shortly after his fiancée left him. I was the one to pick him up from the church and drive him home that fateful day. I did that because I knew he shouldn’t sit there in shocked silence the whole night.
I didn’t have feelings for him then. But no one else knew what to say or do to help him after that.
So I did the only thing I knew…I invited him to different work projects.
And he came. So I kept inviting him, acting like everything was normal.
And soon he would call me and invite me to come work with him.
He eventually got into the swing of regular life again, never mentioning Alexa, his ex-fiancée.
When you work with someone, you get to know them.
And what started off as a way to help a ‘friend’ soon became my downfall.
I learned that Zane has a wicked sense of humor.
I learned that he could make any work project fun, and that he was friendly and kind to anyone who crossed his path.
It didn’t take long to develop a full-blown crush.
But it’s been a full year and he has said nothing that would indicate he has any of the same feelings for me.
Zane is a good guy. But I don’t know that I could survive a practical marriage with him. Because if I marry Zane, I would want him to fall in love with me—and if he didn’t? I would be heartbroken.
Yeah, it’s a terrible idea. I should call him back when I get home and just tell him no.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my shaking body.
I didn’t even have that much caffeine today. But I think it’s the excitement of having to decide my future. That can make someone feel a little panicked.
When Zane had bandaged my hand, I had the horrible idea to lean my head against his shoulder.
Luckily, I’d caught myself right before I did it, but it was a near miss.
If I lived with the man, eventually I’d give in to my intrusive thoughts, and the secret would be out. He would know I like him, like him.
As I roll down our driveway to the Sears kit home I was raised in, I wonder how long this will feel like home.
I’ve been feeling the pressure to find my own place in the world. But the thing is, I like what I do. I like raising sheep and working cattle. I like Pine Ridge. But I keep being pressured to find someone to marry and settle down with.
I’ve tried the dating apps. But there were too many creeps out there. One man I met for dinner in Bend had shared a twenty-year-old photo as his profile picture. The man had grandchildren. I deleted the apps from my phone that night.
I’ve tried with the tourists who come through town.
But the problem with tourists is that everyone wants to visit, and no one wants to stay when they realize you have to drive two hours for doctors’ appointments, groceries, or anything else you can’t get at a small market.
I’d had a few summer flings that turned into a big, ol’ nothing.
I’ve tried with everybody’s random visiting cousin. I’m certain my mom has the entire town on a group text at this point, because at the holidays especially, everyone stops me to tell me which of their visiting relatives are single.
I barely escaped some awkward mistletoe kisses last year.
But in the end? I keep comparing them to one person. Zane, the guy who can laugh when he gets kicked by a cow. The guy who doesn’t yell at you if you can’t get the gate open fast enough… The guy who’s friendly to everyone. Zane isn’t exclusive with his kindness and it’s something I love about him.
Not one of the men I’ve dated has come close to being the same caliber as Zane.
The man who just offered to marry me and let me have my own project room.
With a sigh, I park next to the shop. There’s a pickup I don’t recognize parked in front of the house. Mom didn’t say anything about having company tonight.
Grandpa is sitting on the porch in the rocking chair. He’s holding a big mug of black coffee, and he looks pointedly at the chair beside him.
I give him a hug and a kiss. He’s not an affectionate person, but he loves my sisters and me.
He moved in when I was seventeen. The same year Grandma passed away.
We were all grieving, but I think it was exactly what Grandpa needed.
He would have withered away by himself. He loved my Grandma, and her passing was so hard on him.
But he also loves us and I think we’ve been enough of a distraction to give him a reason to stick around.
He loved sitting by the fire with Briar, Belle, and me to discuss all of our boy problems when Mom and Dad weren’t around. He quickly became our confidant when we were in our high school and college years.
“Better watch out. Your mom has company.”
That does not bode well.
“Is that why you’re out here?” I ask as I sit down in the chair beside him.
“It’s some guy moving out here to take over the real estate office,” Grandpa says.
A feeling of dread settles in the center of my stomach. “How old is he?”
Grandpa looks at me pointedly. “Young enough.”
I sigh. Of course, Mom would invite him over. Some new single person in town.
“How bad is he?”
Grandpa shrugs. “I’m sitting out here, aren’t I?”
“Will she ever stop?” I ask with a sigh.
“Probably once you’re married,” Grandpa replies calmly. “It’s too bad Charlie married Max. I thought you and Max got along well.”
I shake my head. “I do get along with Max, but we’ve never seen each other that way. Besides, Charlie is definitely too young for you.”
Grandpa glares at me, but I just grin. It’s no surprise that he likes Charlie, Max’s wife.
She came to town after Thanksgiving last year and never left.
She fell in love with Pine Ridge, and it’s safe to say most of Pine Ridge fell in love with her—including my grandpa.
My mom is still holding a bit of a grudge because she held out hope that Max and I would end up together.
“I could have left everything to Charlie in the will if she married me,” Grandpa muses.
“Very funny. She probably doesn’t want to inherit your eighty-year-old truck,” I answer snarkily.
Grandpa smiles at me. “Where were you tonight?”
“Are you asking because you want to know, or so you can tattle on me?” I narrow my eyes.
“Give me the real answer and then give me the diplomatic answer for your parents.”
I tsk as I shake my head. Twenty-four years old, and I’m still sneaking around. I guess living with your parents at this age is strange for a lot of people, but I work with them. It doesn’t make sense for me to move out, even if I would like my own space.
“The real answer: I was eating dinner at Zane’s house. The diplomatic answer: I was checking on the pairs on Mason Road.”
Grandpa tips his head down and stares at me. “Zane’s house, huh? No wonder you don’t want your mom to know.”
“Exactly.” I study the brown Band-Aid on the back of my hand. I can almost still feel the pressure of his thumbs there.
“Although I like that guy too. Maybe I’ll mention it to her …”
“I’ll tell Mom you’re sneaking cigarettes again.”
He scowls at me. “Tattletale.”
“Snitch,” I reply fondly.
“Why were you at Zane’s?” he probes.
“He … wants us to have a relationship.”
It’s the best way to describe it to Grandpa. He’s been my confidant for many years, but I don’t know if I can trust him with a secret of this magnitude.
The front door opens, and Mom pokes her head outside. “I thought I heard your voice. Come inside. You’re being antisocial.”
I hold my hands up in the air. “I’m out here socializing with Grandpa!”
“He doesn’t count,” she shoots back. “Sorry, Dad.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Why would I be offended by something like that?” he replies wryly.
Mom tsks at him. “You know what I meant. Now get in here. We have company.”
Probably not a great time to tell her that it’s her company, not mine.
I stand slowly and follow Mom into the house. There’s company here all right.
It’s a man wearing a polo and khakis. He looks completely ill at ease standing next to our hundred-year-old dining table and mismatched chairs.
Dad is standing in the living room, one foot propped on the hearth while talking on the phone.
“Bliss, this is Carter Short. Carter, this is my daughter, Bliss.”
Carter moves forward and shakes my hand with one of his sweaty palms. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Your mom has been telling me so much about you. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
I give my mom a little glare when I turn to look at her.
She mouths, Be nice, and then sits at the table.
“Carter is Henry’s second cousin. He’s opening his own real estate office here. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Henry runs the only store in town, along with a couple of other businesses. He’s well known and generally well-liked by everyone. That doesn’t mean I want to date his second cousin.
“Wonderful,” I repeat without too much inflection.
If I have even a remotely polite tone, he’ll think I’m interested. And it’s not even his fault.
It’s my mother’s.
“Carter was just telling me that he would love nothing more than to settle down and start a family. Isn’t that nice?”
“So nice.”
Dad walks out of the living room, still on the call. He catches my eye, and I try to plead for help telepathically. He either doesn’t get my message or he’s on a mission to save himself.
I catch his eye one more time and mouth the word coward to him. He still leaves.
I’m stuck in a house with a single man and a mom who dreams of having grandkids who live close by.
This is not going to end well.
This is the longest night of my life. It feels like a hostage negotiation just to go to bed without committing to a date with this man. Carter finally leaves, and I can breathe deeply for the first time since coming home.
Mom follows me as I trudge to my room. “You could have been nicer to him, Bliss,” she scolds. “I tried so hard to have him here before you got home. He was tired too and took time out of his busy schedule because he wanted to ask you out! You could have been at least a little pleasant.”
“Mom, if I’d been nice to him, he would have never left me alone.” I sigh.
“He asked you out multiple times! You turned him down. At my kitchen table too!” She ends on a wail as she sits down on my bed.
“Mom, are you ever going to stop trying to set me up with every single man who shows up in town?”
“Not until you find someone for yourself.”
I make sure my scream is internal, and I barely refrain from banging my head against the mirror hanging on the wall.
“I will find someone when the time is right,” I assure her as calmly as I can.
“But you’re not. You haven’t found anyone. And you keep turning down anyone I introduce you to.”
“Mom, you’re bringing in random strangers! What do you expect me to do?”
“I want you to at least try!” She huffs and sweeps out of the room, slamming the door in her wake.
Well, this is a change. Usually, parents are upset when their daughters get overly involved with boys. Mine’s angry because I refuse to.
It’s not a peaceful home to come home to anymore.
I pull off my jeans and put on a pair of sweats. I flop onto my bed like a starfish.
This isn’t relaxing, coming home after a long day of work and being ambushed by strangers and my own mother. It’s been two solid years of this, and it’s building to a fever pitch.
I need somewhere to live where I can feel at rest.
Zane’s house was so peaceful this evening. That back deck was gorgeous.
The bedroom and bathroom … it’s somewhere I could see myself retreating to. Zane’s offering me an oasis to spend the rest of my life.
I guess the solution to my problems is looking me right in the face.
Rolling over, I reach for my phone on my dresser and send off a fate-sealing text.
Bliss: I’ll marry you.
Zane: It was the bathtub that tipped the scale, wasn’t it?
Bliss: Order the bubble bath.