be, he was as stubborn as Granny Rayburn’s old milk cow when he did make a decision.
She nodded, then turned to go. As she made her way to the house, the melody followed her, and so did Ian’s soulful voice as it sang of two lonely hearts finding each other one moonlit night, of them falling crazy in love and of the lifetime vow they’d made, one that would last forever and a day.
She would have liked to have met the couple that had inspired him to write such a beautiful song. If she had known them, maybe she would look forward to settling down herself one day. But not for a long time—and certainly not with Ian.
When Carly entered the front door of the ranch house, unexpected grief struck her like a wallop to the chest.
The inside walls were lined with boxes stacked two and three high, each one carefully labeled with what was inside. Carly had known that her new sister-in-law had first inventoried and then packed up Granny’s belongings, but that still hadn’t prepared her for the heartbreaking sight.
Seeing a lifetime of memories all boxed up, especially the plaques, pictures and knickknacks that made the ranch a home, reminded her that Granny was gone and the Leaning R would soon belong to someone else. And for the first time in Carly’s life, coming home wasn’t the least bit comforting.
As she wandered through the empty house like a lost child, the ache in her chest grew as hard and cold as dry ice.
Needing comfort—or a sense of place—she hurried to the kitchen, where she and Granny had spent a lot of time together. She nearly cried with joy at the familiar surroundings. It was the only room that still bore Granny’s touch, the only place that still offered a safe haven from the disappointment of the outside world.
She studied the faded blue wallpaper, with its straw baskets holding wildflowers. The colors, now yellowed with age, had once brightened the kitchen where Carly had often joined Granny before mealtimes and begged to help her cook and bake.
The elderly woman had been more of a mother to Carly than the one who’d given birth to her and then left her in the care of nannies for most of her childhood. Of course, Raelynn Fallon would say that wasn’t true. And no one argued with Raelynn, least of all her daughter, who’d been asked to refer to her by her first name because Mama made her sound so old and matronly.
Was it any wonder their mother-daughter relationship hadn’t been all that warm and loving?
Thank God for Granny, who’d been the only parental role model Carly had ever had. For that reason, she’d grieved more for her great-grandma’s passing last year than she had when word came of her father’s fatal car accident in Mexico four months ago.
Carly glanced at the cat-shaped clock on wall, its drooping black tail swinging back and forth with each tick-tock.
Life went on, she supposed. But now she was at a loss. There’d been plenty to do on her last trip home, but that was no longer the case. Jason had hired Juliana to inventory and pack Granny’s belongings before he’d fallen in love with the woman and married her. And while Carly was tempted to unpack the boxes and return everything to where it belonged, she couldn’t very well do that.
So what was she going to do with her time, especially since she was trying to avoid Ian?
Her gaze landed on the countertop, where she spotted Granny’s old recipe box. She reached for the familiar, white metal container, with the scene of a mountain meadow hand painted on the outside. She lifted the lid and studied the yellowed tabs, bent from use.
Appetizers, beverages, breads, cakes...
She thumbed through the cookie recipes, which had always been her favorites. Granny had made little handwritten notes on the back of most of them. What a treat to be able to read her great-grandmother’s thoughts tonight, especially when she knew sleep wouldn’t come easy.
After rummaging through the pantry for a box of herbal tea, Carly filled the teapot with water, then put it on the stove to heat. Next, she took a seat at the antique oak table to begin reading through Granny’s recipes as well as the notes on the backs of them.
She’d no more than pulled out the stack of cards listed under cookies when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the display. It was Heather, who was still performing in the show in San Antonio, the one Carly had once starred in and then had to quit.
“Hey,” Carly said. “What’s up?”
“I called to check on you. How are you feeling?”
“A lot better, although I’ve been pretty tired lately. I think that’s from burning the candle at both ends—and that bug I had really wore me down.”
“You probably ought to talk to a doctor.”
“I plan to get some sleep while I’m on the ranch. I never rest as well as I do out here. If that doesn’t work, I’ll make an appointment to see mine.”
“But how are you feeling otherwise? I mean, starring in that show was really important to you. And the director wasn’t happy when you had to quit. Wasn’t he the one who told you he’d put in a good word for you with his buddy in Nashville?”
“Yes, he was. So I doubt that he’ll do that now. But I’ve been disappointed before.” By people, by life events. Fortunately, Carly had learned to shake it off and to pivot in a new direction, if she needed to. “Don’t worry. I’ll find another gig soon.”
“Good. You really need to get your career jump-started before you get to feeling maternal and lay that dream aside for a husband who doesn’t appreciate you and a slew of whining kids.”
Heather, who’d grown up as the oldest in a family of seven, had spent more time babysitting her younger siblings than being a child herself. So it wasn’t any wonder she felt that way.
If truth be told, Carly had once dreamed of having a family of her own someday, with two kids, a dog and a house in the suburbs. She’d also told herself she’d find a husband who would be willing to coparent and who’d promise not to work or be absent on holidays. But two years ago, her gynecologist had nipped that wishful thinking in the bud when she’d told Carly that due to a hormonal imbalance and a sketchy menstrual cycle she probably wouldn’t ever be able to conceive.
But true to form, Carly had shaken off that girlish dream, instead focusing on her career. Besides, she’d told herself, with the lack of parenting she’d experienced, what kind of mother would she make anyway?
“Don’t worry about me falling in love and giving up my singing career, Heather. I’ll make it happen.”
“I’m glad to hear it. And I love your can-do attitude.” Her friend blew out a sigh. “But please give me a call after you talk to the doctor. I’ve been worried about you.”
Now that Granny was gone, there weren’t too many people who actually worried about Carly. She suspected Braden did, and Jason. The two of them had become a lot closer lately, especially since love and romance had softened her oldest brother.
“Thanks, Heather. If it turns out that I have to make an appointment, I’ll let you know.”
When
