Caleb set a lidded fountain drink in front of her and slid in on the other side of the booth. His foot jostled her boot cast.
“Sorry. Did that hurt?” He gripped his soda cup until she thought he’d pop the lid off.
“Not at all.”
His fingers eased their stranglehold. “When do you get free of the boot?”
“Another week, I hope. I’m healing faster than expected.”
She sipped at the Coke, remembering the only other time she and Caleb had shared a soda in this place. Maybe in this exact booth. “Tonight went great, I thought. I gave out ten cards.”
“About the same for me.”
“They won’t all follow through, but maybe some will.”
“Like Danny Bert?”
She rolled her eyes. “Danny’s a wart on the world.”
Caleb laughed, coughed, choked on his drink.
She handed him a napkin, chuckling. “It isn’t very Christian of me, but ever since I was his date to the junior prom, he thinks I owe him something.”
Caleb’s eyes danced. “Corsages are pricey.”
“Why, Mr. Girard, are you making fun of me?”
“Depends on how much you liked the flowers, I guess. I didn’t go to the junior prom.”
“Or the senior one, either.” A blush crept up her neck. Why had she said that? It was ages ago, and that she remembered seemed...pathetic.
“Nope. Neither one.” He pumped his straw up and down in the lid without drinking. “I was never much for dancing.”
“I thought all cowboys could scoot a boot.”
“Nah.” His mouth curved. “That’s only in the movies. All my boot scooting happens when a bull gets after me.”
Kristen laughed. “A regular twinkle toes?”
“Something like that.” He sipped from the straw. “You hungry? I was thinking some fries sound good.”
“I normally don’t eat fast food, but you go ahead.”
He scooted out of the booth, and she watched him walk to the counter. He wasn’t a swaggering cowboy, but he sure looked good in jeans and cowboy boots.
* * *
A dozen emotions flooded through Caleb as he carried his order back to the booth. He should hit the trail, forget the food, forget Kristen Andrews.
He doubted she remembered the only other time they’d been in this restaurant together, but he remembered. She’d been sixteen, a bouncy cheerleader in white shorts and a green shirt, cute and friendly as a pup. He’d fallen so in love with her, he hadn’t slept at all that night.
He slid the tray onto the table and sat again. They were adults now, so why couldn’t his heart behave like one?
He’d barely settled when she pinned him with those green eyes. “Why aren’t you married, Caleb?”
A dozen reasons. He came from bad blood. He didn’t know how to be a husband. He sure didn’t know how to be a father. He’d decided long ago to remain a bachelor like Pops.
“No one will have me,” he joked.
“Oh, come on.” She tapped his fingers like a schoolmarm with a ruler. “Be serious. Haven’t you ever been in love?”
“Once.” And once was all it took. “I decided the whole marriage and family thing wasn’t for me. You?”
“I’ve thought so a couple of times.”
His heart squeezed. “But?”
“Things haven’t worked out. Yet. I’m still praying and asking for God’s direction.” She pulled the straw loose from the lid and studied the drippy end. “I’d like to get married someday and have a family, the way my parents did.”
An all-American, traditional family like hers. He couldn’t begin to fathom what that was like.
“Must have been some smart man in Colorado who caught your eye.”
“There was.”
“But not anymore?” A zing of hope shot up like a July thermometer.
“Not sure. We’re...taking a break. His practice is really busy.”
He didn’t care how busy he was. If Kristen was his woman, he’d find time. “Practice? He a lawyer?”
“James is a doctor. A surgeon.”
Hoped faded, crashed, ached.
James. A doctor. Smart and successful. And probably rich. Exactly the kind of man Kristen deserved.
Another reason Caleb would remain a bachelor.
“You’re going out to see that cute cowboy again?” Kristen’s coworker Trina stepped into the supply room inside the home health office, where Kristen gathered the supplies for another trip to the Girard ranch.
Kristen dropped dialysis tubing into her bag and reached for the wound-care supplies. Because his treatment took several hours, she saved Greg Girard’s visit for last.
“Which cute cowboy would that be?” She knew full well which one. Caleb was seldom far from her thoughts.
Something had changed between her and Caleb that late night over french fries and soda refills. She didn’t know what it was. She wasn’t a lovesick teenager anymore, but she couldn’t deny the powerful pull between her and the cowboy.
So powerful in fact, that she wanted closure with James. Not that she and Caleb were an item, but spending time with the cowboy had cleared the fog from her brain. She wasn’t in love with James. And he certainly hadn’t been in love with her. He’d wanted her, yes, but love and respect? Not even close.
She thanked God He’d opened her eyes to that truth before it was too late.
Trina reached for the irrigation syringes. “Caleb Girard is one of the most eligible and best-looking bachelors in Refuge. All that cowboy charisma is yummy.”
Chemistry and biology. Exactly. The fact that her nerve endings tingled whenever Caleb entered the house was a simple case of attractive male and single female on the rebound. Instant appeal. At least on her part. “Even if I did have my eye on him, Caleb isn’t interested in me.”
If they so much as brushed arms in the hallway, he jumped like she’d hit him with a defibrillator.
