SIXTEEN
Andrew hadn’t left town. In fact, he seemed to have settled in and made himself at home among the locals.
In the days that passed, there was constant talk about the rich man from the city, and the rumor mill was abuzz with all kinds of theories.
All of them pointing directly at Vivian.
It didn’t take a genius to link them together. They were the newbies, the only two people in the borough to drive in with an expensive car and clothes. They did, in fact, stick out like a sore thumb. And now Vivian was once again tied to the man she wanted nothing more to do with, whether she liked it or not.
She was trying her best to avoid him, knowing Andrew was slithering around town like the snake he was, which meant she wasn’t leaving the house. She’d spent the last several days since he’d arrived so unexpectedly on Gretta’s doorstep cleaning the house from top to bottom and learning everything she could about the art of cooking.
But today, Gretta was putting an end to it.
“You need to get out of the house. You can’t hide forever,” she told her as she grabbed the cleaning rag from her hands and hid it behind her back. As if Vivian was going to fight an elderly woman? She shook her head as she looked up at her from the floor she’d been polishing.
“I’m not hiding,” Vivian attempted to lie, but Gretta gave her a withering look that told her she was full of it.
“Yes, you are, and I’m putting an end to it. Besides, I need cherries for dessert tonight. And bourbon because…well, just because. I don’t need to explain myself,” she said with an air of superiority and a dismissive wave then shoved a piece of paper at her that had ‘Shopping List’ printed at the top in her trembling scrawl. Likely the only thing besides her appearance that revealed Gretta’s advanced age.
“You do realize that I’m an adult and can make my own decisions?”
“Yes, I do, but while you’re under my roof, I’ll kick you out whenever I please. Consider this your eviction notice for the next hour. At least,” Gretta told her.
Vivian’s expression soured, not liking the command and even less the prospect of going outdoors where she might cross paths with her ex. She couldn’t think of anything that could ruin a good mood faster than seeing his smug mug. But she didn’t see where she had much choice in the matter. Gretta was right: it was her home, and Vivian had to leave when she said so. Fulfilling her shopping list was a courtesy and a small favor to ask in exchange for room and board.
She only wished that Nash was around to go along—
The front screen door squealed open and slapped closed. Vivian peeked her head around the corner and, speak of the devil… A bright smile spread across her face, and when Nash spotted her, he immediately knew something was up.
“What?” he asked, hesitating in the breezeway that cut between the main-floor rooms.
Vivian made a slow approach, holding the note in the air. “Gretta needs some things from town. Think you can give me a ride?”
A confused frown marred his features. “What’s wrong with your car?”
As Vivian scanned his tall, lean body, she could see that he’d been working hard, probably in the fields, definitely with the horses—or maybe just one in particular. As bad as she should feel about asking him to take the time away to escort her to the market, she needed the support too much not to.
“Nothing, but I thought it would be nice to have some company. Plus, it’s lunchtime. My treat?” she added, hoping to spice up the offer enough that he wouldn’t say no.
Suspicion colored his face as he studied her. “Is this about your husband?”
“Ex,” she corrected him. Then she sighed. “He’s been lurking around town, and I don’t love the idea of running into him.”
Nash smirked. “So you want to use me as a bodyguard?”
Vivian pursed her lips, playing at innocence. “In a manner of speaking.”
Nash watched her, his expression typically stoic and exceptionally hard to read. Finally, he said, “Fine, but I’m taking you up on lunch.”
“Deal,” she said readily.
“I’m in the mood for steak,” he warned.
“Only the best,” she promised, making a cross with her fingers over her heart.
“All right, you’ve convinced me,” he said teasingly. “Go hop in the truck. I gotta run something by Gretta and then I’ll meet you there.”
Vivian’s knee-jerk reaction was to ask what he needed to talk to her about, but she held back, not wanting to pry. Her nosiness had already gotten her into trouble once. She wasn’t eager to go for a second round.
Thankfully, Nash didn’t make her wait too long in the late-summer heat. Even with the windows down, she felt like a fried turkey.
With a small, friendly smile, Nash turned the car around, and they drove down the long driveway toward town. As the minutes ticked by, Vivian couldn’t help revisiting that conversation in the kitchen not so long ago. She still hadn’t gotten clear answers as to what he’d been discussing that had been bothering him so much, and she wanted to know.
Everything about Nash MacArthur was worth knowing about, and Vivian felt like, since they seemed to be growing closer, she had the right to ask. So she did.
“So…” She trailed off, and Nash raised his eyebrows in questions, waiting for her to continue. “You never did tell me what you and Gretta were talking about.”
“Just now?” he asked, somewhat confused. “I was just asking her what she wanted done with the pull barn. A few boards need replacing, but she seems right to keep it as is until next summer, which I think is a bad idea. Money’s tight, though, considerin’ the price of grain went up again.”
“No, not that,” Vivian stopped him. “I meant the other thing.”
He stared off down the road, and after a moment said, “You mean when you were listenin’ in.”
Vivian felt her cheeks heat. “Yes, that. What didn’t you mean to do? I mean, if it wasn’t about kissing me.”
Again, he didn’t answer immediately, but Vivian didn’t press, sensing he needed time to think over his response. Or maybe he didn’t want to respond at all. Maybe she’d been right—
“Gretta told you about my wife,” he stated plainly, and cast her sidelong glance, waiting until she nodded to continue. “I was talking about that. About what happened that day. And other stuff,” he said vaguely. “Nothin’ concerning you.”
“Can I ask…?”
“I’d rather you not. Gretta told you the gist of it, and I don’t talk about it. At least not with anyone but her.”
That was it, case closed. Nash hadn’t been rude about it, but Vivian knew when she was being shut out, and he’d just slammed the door on the subject and padlocked it closed.
She turned to stare out the window, lost for words. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to open her big mouth after all. Clearly, they hadn’t reached that level of comfort with each other when it came to certain topics.
“Hey,” Nash said, calling back her attention. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“You weren’t,” she assured him.
“Well, if I was, then I’m sorry,” he said anyway.
Appreciating the gesture, Vivian smiled back at him but quickly returned her attention to the scenery outside her window. She just couldn’t seem to stop embarrassing herself in front of him. It felt like she was forever overstepping or sticking her foot in her mouth. Would she ever just get it right?
Dating was so damn hard. If that was, in fact, what they were doing. It was difficult to tell. She’d never been someone who dated. Andrew had just kind of fallen into her life and never left. Nash wasn’t that kind of guy. If she wanted him—if that were in fact what she wanted—then she would have to find a way to get through that tough exterior.
She had a feeling that she already knew what made him tick though: lost love and heartache.
Those were two elements she had no experience with and no idea how to overcome. Everything had always been easy for her, at least when it came to things. The only thing she ever really wanted for was love, true and abiding. But how did a person give and get what they had no knowledge of personally?
Vivian was at a loss, her mind churning, as they pulled into the market’s parking lot, a bigger store than the grocery she’d first encountered that provided a wider range of food and other products.
“Do you want me to come inside?” Nash asked her as he pulled alongside a parking spot and stopped, awaiting her answer.
Vivian looked at the storefront, chewing her bottom lip as she considered what she wanted to do. Did she want him by her side? Yes, absolutely. Today she needed a barrier, a supportive arm, just in case. But after the awkwardness that she’d caused, she didn’t want to force him.
“It’s okay,” she decided. “If you have things to do, you can just swing back around and pick me up when you’re done.” She tried on a smile that felt as false as it was.
Nash appeared unconvinced, and before she knew it, he’d pulled into that spot and parked the car. Turning it off, he said, “Actually, I do have a couple things I’ve been meaning to get. Ready?”
He didn’t give her time to argue or ask questions. Throwing open his door, he was out of the truck in no time and around to her side, opening hers for her and offering her a hand. A bit shaken but completely grateful for the save, Vivian took it and climbed out.
But the most shocking part of it all was when Nash didn’t let go but continued holding her hand all the way into the store. He only returned her hand to retrieve a cart, which he allowed her to push, and he stuck beside her through every aisle, even the feminine hygiene one, which Vivian could have done by herself but hadn’t the heart to tell him so.
Once again, Nash was proving how thoughtful and considerate he could be. Another winning quality, as far as she was concerned.
By the time they’d made it to the checkout, Vivian had a handcart filled with items, both hers and Gretta’s, and Nash had nothing at all, only further confirming her suspicion that he’d only joined her to, in his own way, offer his support in what he knew was a stressful situation.
“Well, we’ve made it this far,” she said to him as they pulled items from the basket and laid them on the conveyor, “and no sign of him yet.”
“Miracles still happen, apparently,” Nash replied, a tinge of humor in his steady baritone.
“Good afternoon, y’all,” the cashier, whose name tag read ‘Wendy’ in white letters against the red of her uniform shirt, said. “Find everything all right?”
“Yes,” Vivian said happily. In fact, she’d found a bit too much. Mostly essentials, at least. Especially the candy bar, which was always a necessity when her hormones started to act up at the end of the month.
Wendy scanned through her products, flashing knowing smiles up at her and Nash occasionally. “How ya doin’, Nash?”
“Can’t complain,” he replied in as straight a manner as one can without being rude.
“Same for me.”
As what Vivian suspected was a courtesy, he returned, “How’s the boy?”
Wendy’s face brightened. “Hansel is great, except right now he’s teethin’,” she revealed, pausing her scanning to make hand gestures as she spoke. “And well, I ain’t gotta tell ya how that’s goin’. Dave says it ain’t time to wean him off the tit yet, but like I told him, you try havin’ someone bite your nipples off twenty times a day!”
She looked to Vivian for confirmation, and Vivian laughed and nodded as if she commiserated, but she couldn’t relate one bit. Nash looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.
“Sounds like a pain,” he joked dryly.
“You know it!” After a bit more gossiping and trying her best to put Nash and Vivian together as a couple, Wendy gave Vivian the total and happily took her money.
“I have no doubt we’re going to be married by the time we make it back to the farm,” Vivian said, referring to the gossip mill, as they made their way back to the truck.
“I believe that ship has already sailed. The whole town has had us hitched since Gretta started her attempt at matchmaking.” He cast her a serious look. “She really is known for her ability.”
Somehow, that wasn’t shocking. Gretta was a very determined lady. She didn’t imagine that many stood strong against her will.
“So are you with the rest of the town?” she questioned. “Do you think we’re getting married?”
“As sweet as you seem, no. We’re virtually strangers.”
“So you don’t believe in love at first sight?” Vivian gasped. They reached the truck and Nash dropped the bed so they could load the bags inside. “I guess that means I’ll have to return the dress…”
“Nah, keep it,” he played along. “You can use it when you marry Bubba.”
“I don’t even know who Bubba is!” she protested.
“Don’t worry, you can’t miss him,” Nash said, and the way he said it, it didn’t make Vivian feel any better.
“Let me guess, his looks match his namesake,” she said drolly.
“Surprisingly no,” Nash said and scratched his head as if he were confused by the notion.
Vivian grew curious. “Well, then, maybe Gretta is on to something,” she said, searching Nash’s face for a reaction.
She got exactly the one she was hoping for.
“Did I say she had a knack for matchmaking? Because I lied. She’s horrible at it. Look at the time,” he rushed out, and placed his hand at her back, turning and pushing her toward the passenger door. “We should get back so you can start your lesson in making paprikash.”
“Paprikash?” She’d never heard of it before.
“It’s a kind of chicken dish that Gretta serves with noodles. It’s amazing,” he explained.
“Oh…I hope I don’t mess it up,” Vivian worried.
“You can’t. Trust me, it’s easy as pie.”
Climbing into the passenger seat, Vivian looked at Nash as if he’d grown another head—much like he’d done to her soon after her arrival. “Pie is hard!”
“But you breezed right through it.” He winked. “Now buckle up.” Nash closed the door and hurried around the truck before Vivian could say another word.
What had gotten into him? First, he was easygoing and calm. Now all of a sudden he was rushing around like a chicken with his head cut off—another saying she’d picked up from Gretta.
As he leaped behind the wheel and fired up the engine, backing out of the space expertly but no less slowly, Vivian puzzled over his behavior…until she spotted the sleek black limo two rows down, parked conspicuously near the exit.
She glanced over to find Nash focused on the limo, and when he looked over at her, a silent understanding passed between them. Nash hadn’t wanted her to notice Andrew waiting for her, and she was eternally thankful that he cared enough to try to help her avoid him.
As they coasted out of the lot, past the waiting car with blacked-out windows prohibiting them from meeting the eyes of the man who was no doubt inside watching them, Nash reached across the console and took her hand in his.
Whether it was a show of solidarity or an act of comfort, Vivian didn’t know, but she was grateful to have him by her side.