Iris paced the living room of her apartment, waiting for Declan to pick her up. 

Or rather, she wanted to pace the living room.

In reality, she was simply sitting on her couch, too afraid she’d run into something or fall over and hurt herself before Declan even arrived. Wouldn’t that just be a fine start to the afternoon – a faceplant into the carpet. He could walk into her house and find her sprawled out on the floor, her dress up around her head.

No siree bob. She was going to keep her butt planted on the couch until he showed up. She could just pace in her mind.

Unfortunately, pacing in her mind didn’t work nearly as well as she would’ve liked, because none of her nervous energy was being worn off. She looked at the silver watch bracelet on her wrist and groaned. Only three minutes since the last time she’d looked at her watch, and ten minutes before Declan was supposed to show. He was a punctual person so the chances were pretty good that he’d actually be there in ten minutes, but even so, right then? Ten minutes might as well have been a thousand years.

Her stomach was twisting in so many knots, worried about how this date was going to go and all of the myriad of ways she could screw it up, she was pretty sure the first thing she was going to do to screw it up was throw up all over Declan’s cowboy boots.

Wouldn’t that be a fine way to start the date. She almost preferred the dress-up-around-her-ears outcome.

She reminded herself that she was going to use this date to pin him to the wall, like a botanist pins a butterfly to a board. She was going to get answers, dammit. Years of no answers was about to come to an end.

Milk jumped up onto the couch and snuggled up against her thighs, looking up at her with piercing green eyes as she tried her Jedi mind trick to convince Iris to pet her.

“You know you don’t have to use your Jedi skills on me,” Iris said with a laugh, stroking her beautiful brown tabby body from head to rump. “I’ll pet you whether or not you stare at me intently.” Milk’s purrs just grew louder and she stretched out on Iris’ lap, really getting into the pettings now. “You know, it’s a good thing I love you, or I wouldn’t put up with you shedding your hair all over my clothes just before I go out on my big date.” Milk flicked her tail, completely unconcerned about the summer fur she was shedding everywhere in preparation for her winter coat. 

Iris let the long strokes and the rumble and purrs soothe her. She felt a little less anxious already. This was just Declan. There was nothing between them. That’d died years ago, when he’d chosen farming over her, as her sister so eloquently put it. This wasn’t a real date. They would just go out this one time, catch up on old times, she’d get her answers, and then they’d never see each other again.

Ugh. But this was Declan. 

The one guy she’d never been able to get over, no matter how many guys had asked her out while she was at Idaho State University. Back when she’d been in shape, back when she’d been confident on her feet and sure about where she was going and who she was, she could have a date every Friday night if she’d wanted.

She’d found, though, that the guys who asked her out were too tall or too short; too loud or too quiet; trying too hard, or not trying at all.

Too…not Declan.

Her roommate, Rebecca, had told her that she wasn’t over Declan, but Iris had ignored her, mainly because it didn’t matter. Whether she was “over” him or not, she wasn’t going to be dating him anymore, so why think about it?

Except thinking about Declan was all she did while at ISU and then afterwards, when she got the job at Portneuf Medical Center.

A knock on the front door startled her out of her thoughts, and when she jumped, Milk took off like a bolt for the bedroom.

Fine. I can face Declan all by myself. I’m a big girl.

She heaved herself to her feet and grabbed her favorite walking stick, a piece of hand-carved polished hickory wood. Her parents had bought it for her when they brought her home from the hospital, and she just loved it. It was bad enough that she had to have assistance while walking; she didn’t want to have to walk with an orthopedic cane. The black canes with four little feet sprouting out of the bottom? Those were for the birds. Or people over the age of 85.

She got to the front door and pulled it open to reveal Declan, bearing…

“Ohhh!” she squealed happily when she spotted the chocolate cheesecake in his hands. Her favorite. “Where did you get it?” She went to take it from him but realized that balancing the large cheesecake and her walking stick all at the same time would be tough. Declan seemed to understand her hesitancy and just carried it inside for her, and over to the kitchen counter.

“The Muffin Man. Have you been there yet since you got home?” 

“No, but I heard that the Dyer’s grandson recently took over when they retired. I also heard that he’s—”

She stopped herself just in the nick of time. She was not going to discuss how cute the new baker was with Declan of all people.

“As cute as his food is delicious?” Declan finished with a twinkle in his eye.

“It’s possible I heard something like that,” Iris said primly, as if she hadn’t heard how drool-worthy Gage Dyer was from about 15 women down at the grocery store. Sure, they could all stand around and talk about the baker being cute, but they couldn’t be bothered to tell Declan that his ex was a cripple?

There were days she didn’t understand this town. About 365 of them a year.

“You ready?” he said with a gallant smile as he held his arm out for her. She slipped her arm through his and with the help of her walking stick, made it out the door and up the two steps to the driveway, and into the warm autumn afternoon. It was fall in the Goldfork Mountains, which meant that it could be 9 or 90 degrees on any given day. Today, the weather was blessedly warm, which she was sure the music festival coordinators appreciated.

They made it over to Declan’s truck, bigger and newer than the beat-up beast he’d driven in high school. She bit her lip as she looked at the passenger side door. Even with a step up, the front seat just seemed so damn far up there. She took a deep breath for courage and scrambled up and in, swallowing her cry of joy that she hadn’t fallen on her head in the process. Declan didn’t notice her hesitation, which she counted as a win. Every time she could hide her fears or her worries or her disabilities from others, she’d won a small victory.

She would take all the small victories she could get.

“Is it Old Time Fiddlers again this year?” she asked as soon as Declan had made it around to the driver’s side and had settled in. The diesel engine roared to life, and Declan let it settle down before he answered.

“Yup. And a couple of local acts that are starting to make it regionally. I think they’re trying to raise funds to travel to Nashville.”

Someone who is chasing their dreams. Who can chase their dreams. Iris bit back her envy and reminded herself that she’d had her chance, too. Hers was just cut a little short, was all.

She should ask him right now, and just get it over with. But as she turned to study his profile as he drove, she realized that she didn’t want to ruin their date this early in. She’d wait until the end of the date, and then ask him. No reason to make the whole afternoon awful, right?

She absolutely, positively was not ignoring a huge problem that needed to be dealt with. She was simply…postponing the discussion.

There was a big difference.

They fell into an easy chit-chat as they made the 30-minute drive to Franklin, laughing about pranks they’d pulled on their hated high school English teacher. There were only two English teachers at Sawyer High School. One was beloved by all, and one was…not.

Somehow, they’d both been stuck with the “not” all four years.

“At some point, you have to wonder if our parents were paying the administration to stick us in with her, because they thought we needed to learn a lesson or something from it – that it ‘builds character,’” Iris said, laughing. “I mean, what are the chances that we’d get her all four years??”

Declan looked over and grinned. “Or maybe our parents weren’t paying a bribe to the superintendent, and the other parents were! Remember all of those ditto sheets she made us do?”

“High school English, and we were filling out multiple-choice quizzes and coloring in puzzles to reveal a hidden picture. Who ever thought that they’d hide a drawing of Shakespeare in one of those puzzles?”

Declan shook his head, smiling slightly. “I don’t think any teacher in the history of teachers deserved to retire more than her. I didn’t learn a damn thing about English from her class, except to hate English.” A small grimace crossed his face and then quickly passed, his smile firmly back in place. Iris wondered for a moment if she’d actually seen what she thought she had, or if it was just a trick of her mind.

“It’s amazing she hung in there until she hit her 60s, isn’t it?” she said after a moment. “I was afraid she’d be one of those teachers who was still around in her 80s, but I think the principal took her aside and heavily encouraged her to retire. I kinda wonder if she isn’t the reason that I fell in love with science and the medical world like I did. At least in biology, no one made me color Shakespeare’s head.”

“Biology…” Declan repeated with a half-grimace, half-grin.

“Yeah! Okay, mister, it’s been years. You can tell me the truth now. Did you or did you not release all of those frogs into Mrs. Westingsmith’s room?” she demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at him. 

He suddenly became very interested in the road ahead. They were almost to Franklin and traffic from the music festival was clogging the highway. They slowed to a crawl.

“Ummmm…uhhh…” he stuttered. “I…uhh…”

“You did!!!!” she crowed. “I knew it! Your innocent face isn’t so innocent. Every time you plaster that ‘I’m an angel’ look on your face, I’m damn sure you’ve been the devil instead! You have everyone else fooled, but not me.”

“Well, not my dad either.” He grimaced. “I never thought I’d walk again after he heard about the frog incident. He paddled my ass good that night.”

“Hey, I liked Mrs. Westingsmith! If you were going to unleash a ton of frogs into someone’s room, why not our English teacher?”

“Because I didn’t have a test in her class.”

Iris let out a howl of laughter. “How on earth did you graduate from high school?” she asked, wiping her tears away.

“No clue,” Declan said cheerfully. “Actually, I think the principal wanted me out of his hair. He started calling me Moses.”

“Moses?” Somehow, Iris had missed this. Or she’d forgotten in the ensuing years.

“Yeah, for bringing a plague of frogs down upon the school. I don’t think he let Mrs. Westingsmith keep that many frogs in the terrarium after that. I heard through the grapevine that he told her it was too much temptation to high schoolers. He mighta been right about that.”

She shook her head in mock disapproval. “The next time someone tries to tell me all about how sweet and kind you are, I’m gonna tell them about the Moses story,” she warned him.

He threw her a triumphant look. “Eh, no one will ever believe you. I’ve got this whole town fooled.” 

She let out another round of laughter. “Oh heavens, I should secretly tape you and show it to all the little old ladies in town. Otherwise, they’ll think I’m lying.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I just have to bat my eyes at them and they’ll forgive me for anything.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “You know, you’re probably right.” He had more charm in his little toe than ten other guys did combined together.

Something he was well aware of.

They pulled into a large gravel parking lot, and after he came around and helped her down, they began to move their way across it, towards the discordant sound of musical instruments warming up. Declan had slung a jean quilt over his shoulder, which she assumed was for them to sit on. Always thoughtful; that was Declan.

And strong. Holy cow, she’d forgotten how muscular he was. Or maybe, he’d bulked up since high school. She didn’t remember this many muscles rippling under his skin back then. He’d started to gain muscle their first two years in college together, but nothing like this. She wondered if he bench-pressed combines every morning before breakfast.

She snuck a glance up at him through her eyelashes to check to see if he was embarrassed to be out with a cripple. Did he care that she was using a walking stick, and he had to hold on to her other arm? He didn’t seem to be; he was looking around, tipping his hat as they went past women, smiling at everyone. He must’ve sensed her looking at him because he glanced down at her and grinned. 

She blushed. 

Dammit, I always get caught when I sneak peeks. You, Iris, are no Nancy Drew.

They found a small tree casting a little shade and he spread out the blanket for her to sit on. He helped her lower down to the ground and tuck her legs up underneath her, and then after a promise to be right back, he took off for the food trucks. She watched him in action; tipping his hat, smiling, picking up a dropped dollar bill and handing it back to the little girl who’d lost it…

She wondered for a moment if Mrs. Miller was looking down at her middle son and seeing what an amazing man he’d grown up to be. She sure hoped so; she was sure Mrs. Miller would be proud of how he’d turned out. Iris had been dating Declan for a little over four years when she’d died. Car wreck. Declan changed after that, and it wasn’t much longer before he suddenly decided that farming was more important than her.

Something I’m going to pin him down about tonight.

She debated asking him when he came back with their food, before the Old Time Fiddlers really got started, but decided to wait until after the concert. She could ask him on the way home. That way, they could talk privately, without worrying about anyone overhearing them. Plus, then she wasn’t ruining the concert.

That was the smart thing to do. Totally not cowardly at all.

He made his way back bearing all of the junk food she absolutely should not be eating…yet absolutely adored. He had an elephant’s ear in one hand and two turkey legs in another, along with a giant Icee. 

She grinned up at him when he paused at the edge of their blanket. “Want some help with that?” she asked eagerly, holding her hands up for the elephant ear. He passed it down to her with a teasing wink, and then settled onto the blanket next to her. She pulled off a piece of the warm, fried bread, thick with cinnamon and sugar on top, and popped it into her mouth, chewing ecstatically.

He watched her, his eyes growing dark as he smiled at her. “I can see you love fry bread as much as you did in high school,” he said with a laugh tinged with…lust?

Surely not. She walked with a cane and tripped over the smallest things. Sometimes, she wondered if she was tripping over air molecules. She wasn’t someone who would inspire lust, especially not in a man like Declan Miller. He was just…

Huh. 

She wasn’t quite sure what he was staring like that for, actually. She sent him a quizzical smile and his face instantly brightened, and whatever that was, was gone.

Thankfully, the warming up of the fiddles came to a sudden end, and an older woman was getting up on the small platform to face the waiting audience. She thanked them all for coming, and then started the group off with a flourish.

As the group began to play classics mixed in with newer tunes, the audience began clapping along, whooping and hollering. After one particularly impressive solo in The Devil Went Down to Georgia, the whole audience was yelling and screaming like they were at a rock concert. Iris turned to Declan and they grinned at each other, the excitement and fun almost palpable in the air.

Why is Declan here with me?

The thought came out of nowhere, and Iris paused, the music and the crowd around her fading away. 

I’m not the woman he fell in love with so many years ago. Why did he ask me out? Why are we here?

She had no answer, and that scared her more than anything.