The Right Thing Easy Page 2

  “Everything’s in order?” Pauline asked without looking up. Though in good shape, she had a Midwestern boxiness. For as long as Hope had known her, she’d permed her thin hair, and recently she’d started dying it back to its original chestnut brown.

  Everything but my equilibrium, Hope thought, chagrined that the view of someone’s backside could send her into such a tailspin. “The stacks look good,” she answered honestly, her mind and body still distracted. Though she’d barely caught a glimpse of the woman, she felt a pull that she tried hard to ignore.

  Pauline turned her librarian’s eyes that missed nothing back to Hope, who straightened stacks of fliers. She tried to remember what they talked about, but her brain refused to feed her anything but questions about the stranger. “Did I tell you Halley decided to take some classes?”

  “Is she still planning for her mission?”

  “Oh, yeah. But she can’t go until she’s nineteen, so she decided it would be good to get some college credits in before then.”

  “She decided?” Pauline asked with a grin.

  “With some help from her big sister.”

  “She’s eighteen now. You can stop mothering her.”

  Hope thought of herself at eighteen, how she’d wondered if she could have talked to her mother about who she was. She’d wanted to be mothered then. She could still use some mothering now.

  “Sorry.” Pauline squeezed Hope’s arm. “That wasn’t fair. It’s great that Halley’s taking classes. They hired some new teachers this year. One of them just signed up for a library card.”

  “That was a teacher?” Hope spilled, betraying that she’d observed the newcomer. Her mind spun. If she were full-time at the college, that meant she’d be in town the whole year. She tried to still her attraction. Maybe it was just the jeans, the boots that had transported her back. She hadn’t even seen the woman’s face or her eyes. Maybe her body was wrong.

  “Hiring them young, aren’t they?” Pauline smiled playfully.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Hope faltered. “I didn’t really see her, just her clothes…I pegged her for a rancher.”

  “Tim must be expanding the equestrian program they have there. You could ask her.”

  Hope turned, startled to see the woman approaching the desk. It hadn’t occurred to her for an instant that the woman hadn’t left, that she’d been off browsing while Hope talked to Pauline. Trapped, she tried to find something, anything to distract her. She failed, unable to stand so close to someone without acknowledgment. Their eyes met, and Hope found herself bathed in a wide smile framed with full lips. From behind, she had appreciated her thick wavy hair. Face to face, the woman’s flawless almost-olive complexion took her breath away. High cheekbones and sculpted dark eyebrows gave her a look of adventure.

  “Y’all have a better selection than I figured you for,” she said, her dark eyes snapping back to Pauline as she accepted the stack of books.

  Pauline puffed up with pride, and Hope heard for the umpteenth time how important a wide variety of books was in a small town. Hope tuned it all out, focused only on the tiny woman with her Texan drawl. She’d glanced only briefly at Hope, keeping her attention politely on Pauline and her lecture, but Hope had seen enough to know that her body was right. She tried to identify how she knew. Was it the set of her shoulders? Her slender hands? Whatever it was, she knew. She knew exactly how those muscled arms would feel around her, how soft her lips would be. A deer caught in the headlights, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She was helpless to wait for the unstoppable, inevitable impact.

  “You’re sure to see a lot of me,” the professor said with a wink, sliding her stack of books from the desktop.

  Hope let out her breath as the woman exited the library. If her statement proved to be true, Hope knew for sure she was in trouble.

  Chapter Four

  Music pounded on the other side of the wall, and I fought the urge to go next door and demand some peace and quiet. In my haste to get out of Chico, getting an apartment near campus had seemed like a good idea. The weeks that I’d spent planning my classes had been quiet, idyllic once I’d found the library in town. I’d forgotten how cathartic it could be to get lost in a good book, and I’d had plenty of peace in between getting ready for my first semester of teaching and working with the horses.

  That all changed when the students moved back in.

  It wasn’t that I had anything against Bob Marley or the Dead or that I was scared of getting a contact high. They just invaded my space, my thoughts. I couldn’t concentrate, staring at a page for ten minutes before I realized that all I was thinking about was going over and lecturing the students about how they’d be sure to do better in their classes if they’d lay off the weed.

  I felt so old.

  I missed my settled life with Candy and our house out on the outskirts of Chico with so much property we never heard anyone. Outside the window here was forest, not a pasture with my horses lazing about. I missed being able to look out and see my girls.

  “I need a new place,” I said to no one. Swallowing my frustration with the kids next door, I gathered up my stuff and left for the third day in a row, knowing it was easier for me to leave than ask them to change their behavior. Fortunately, I’d stumbled on Cup of Joy, a sweet diner that had wonderful coffee and staff who didn’t mind patrons who stuck around.

  Five minutes later, I was settled into a booth waiting for my iced latte, feeling like an old-timer ordering with a simple nod and a smile to the waitress who clearly recognized me. Her crazy bright smile kind of unsettled me, so I flipped open the local paper and scanned the rentals looking for horse property.

  “Already looking for a new job?” the waitress asked, setting down my drink. She had dark blond hair streaked by sun that had also turned her nose and cheeks pink.

  I looked up and furrowed my brow, wondering why she looked a little starstruck.

  “I’m in your Western Riding on Tuesdays. Halley Fielding. Halley’s short for…”

  “Hallelujah. I remember,” I said, scolding myself for not recognizing a student. Years of collecting thanks from strangers without really seeing them had programmed me to forget faces. I’d have to work on that. “I hope I didn’t bore you to tears this week. Next week, we’ll be out in the stables, and I promise I won’t talk so much.”

  She rewarded what I thought was prattle with another one of her bright smiles. “Don’t worry about it. I could listen to your accent all day.”

  People in California always went on about my southern drawl. A little uncomfortable under her jittery attention, I glanced back down at the paper, then remembering she’d asked me a question. “I’m actually looking for a place. I have to get out of the campus apartments.”

  “Oh, that’s easy enough to fix. There’s plenty of stuff to rent in town,” Halley said.

  I tried to read her cheerfulness, wondering if it was innate or her thinking she could score some points from the teacher by being nice. Looking at the paper, I realized how difficult it was going to be to figure out what would even work for me. I dismissed the question of favoritism, going off my gut feeling that this young woman was just trying to be nice. “Maybe you can help me since I don’t know the area. I don’t need a big place, but I would like property where I can keep at least one of my horses.”

  Halley chewed her lip, really thinking about my request. “Hold on a sec.”

  She crossed the small restaurant, calling into the back. I’d seen the woman who answered her call before, too. Everywhere in town, it seemed. I hadn’t actually met her. I wasn’t even sure I’d heard her speak, but I was aware of her presence wherever I went. She had a calmness, a peacefulness that radiated from her. They talked for a moment before the woman disappeared again. Halley shot me a jubilant thumbs-up. I wondered if she was always full of energy.

  When she returned, I couldn’t help but glance back at the doorway, but the other woman had disappeared into the back already. Oddly, I
felt disappointed.

  “This is your lucky day. My sister’s got this friend who runs a ranch out off Chandler Road. His dad built him a place on their property, but he still lives in the main house. Hope said he might be willing to rent it out. What do you think?”

  My jaw dropped in awe. “This is what people mean when they say that it’s different livin’ in a small town, isn’t it?”

  “Might as well enjoy some of the perks because you know there’s a whole lot of trouble that comes with a small town, too.”

  “I figured that,” I said, smiling. “But you’ve only met me once.”

  A coy smile crept onto Halley’s face. “Yeah, but Tim says Feather River was lucky to snap you off the rodeo circuit, and Hope says that you impressed the librarian.”

  “You’re just doing that to make me feel like I’m the fish in the fishbowl.”

  “The new fish in the fishbowl. Welcome to Quincy! Want a to-go cup?”

  “No thanks,” I said, downing the rest of my drink quickly. I worked on instinct, and my instinct said to accept this almost-stranger’s kindness. “Who am I looking for out there?”

  * * *

  “Gabe Owens,” the towering cowboy said, shaking my hand. At five-four, I’m used to nearly everyone being taller than I am, but not usually by a whole foot. And that was with his cowboy hat in hand, not on his close-cropped head of dark hair.

  “Danielle Blazer,” I said, hoping the squeeze I put into the handshake registered in his huge paw. “But I go by Dani.”

  “Hope says you’re wanting a quiet place where you can board a few horses. Let’s see if this suits your needs.”

  I followed him from the barn where I’d found him across the yard and past the two-story home surrounded by a white picket fence. Beyond that yard sat a miniature version of the big house. This, too, was fenced to keep the animals off the little lawn. As he walked, he explained how his parents thought they’d help him settle down by building him a place where he could have his own family. “Trouble is I don’t even have a girlfriend. All I get if I move out here is the opportunity to cook for myself.” Gabe ducked through the doorway, but I paused on the porch to take in the pastures that swept out beyond the buildings. Donkeys lazed in corrals near the barn, their huge ears askew. Mares grazed in one large pasture, and several mules stood in another.

  Gabe stepped back onto the porch. “Don’t know if Hope told you that we breed mules. You have a mare?”

  “Champion barrel racer.”

  His eyes gleamed, and strayed only for an instant from my own. “Watch out. This is the place to get knocked up.”

  I felt my cheeks go red and looked away to try to hide the effect his words had. Nothing in his words or demeanor suggested that he was flirting with me, but still, I felt uncomfortable, like he’d uncovered what I, myself, really wanted. “Looks like your studs are well contained,” I said, thinking I was moving the conversation to firmer ground.

  He held up his hands with an apologetic look realizing how what he said might have sounded inappropriate. “We’re very well behaved around here.” He tucked his lower lip in his teeth, playing with his beard. He looked like a giant boy, unsure of what to say to mend our mutual awkwardness. In a flash, he’d placed his straw hat back on his head. “Take a look at the place and stop by the barn to let me know what you think.”

  His delivery was gentle, like he was afraid of spooking me. I watched him cross the driveway again and disappear into the barn. I was grateful that I could step into what I felt sure would be my perfect place without the owner by my side. Gabe’s words about getting knocked up had tossed me back onto the ground. I tried to dust off the sting of my emotional fall, painfully reminded of how much I’d wanted to have a baby with Candy. Only with the distance of the breakup and my moving up here did I realize that her eyes had never reflected that desire. I’d been alone in that.

  Inside, light spilled across hardwood floors. The living room’s huge window overlooked the pastures, and I could picture Daisy and Eights among the grazing animals. Beyond the living room was a small kitchen that also overlooked the valley. To the right was a bedroom with windows shaded by a hillside forested with evergreens. Through a bathroom lay the other bedroom, and that room returned, full circle to the living room. I stood in the front bedroom trying to dismiss the natural instinct to consider which room would be a more appropriate nursery. I wasn’t in a position to think about such things anymore. The front room would work better as my office, allowing a little more privacy for my bedroom.

  I was already moving in.

  The way Gabe talked about his parents helping him settle down, I wondered whether they also expected him to fill this new place with a family and sure hoped neither one of them would think I’d be helping with that.

  I pulled the door shut behind me, wishing it was as easy to close off thoughts of babies and families in my head.

  Gabe must’ve heard my boots on the drive because he was wiping his hands as he met me outside the barn. “Is it home?” he asked, simply.

  I could tell that he would completely understand if I said it just didn’t feel right. “It is,” I answered, unable to hide my smile. “It’s not listed…I expect you’ll want time to figure out an application, do a background check on me…”

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s yours if you want it.”

  “You don’t even know what to charge in rent.”

  “I’m sure we can figure something out that’s fair.”

  “September’s still a few weeks out. That’s plenty of time to draw something up.”

  “It’s yours. It’s just sitting here waiting for someone.”

  I turned to look at the perfect little house on the hill and hoped I was surreptitious in wiping the misties from my eyes before I turned back to him. “I appreciate it. I just don’t get what’s in it for you.”

  “Hope asked me.” He shrugged, like that answer should suffice.

  I nodded, going along with it, my first step in becoming a local.

  Chapter Five

  Eyes clamped shut, Hope tried to gain control of her body and quiet the butterflies that kept fluttering from her belly to her chest. Her symptoms were worsening. At first, she only reacted every time she saw the new professor, her body betraying her, sending her into a physical tailspin. Now the rush would sweep over her unannounced without the woman’s physical presence, and she’d be caught as helpless as anyone in town waiting out a summer thunderstorm. She sat on her bed taking deep, calming breaths, listening to Halley and her father prepare for church.

  In three minutes, her father would check to see if she would be joining them. She thought back to the years that she’d spent rounding up her siblings before church, making sure they’d chosen clean shirts, brushed their hair and teeth. After her mother’s death, Hope grounded herself in these chores, knowing that it was her calling to help her family. Then Harrison left on his mission, and she’d started feeling pressure from her father and the church to get married. It was time, they said, for her to have her own family. That’s what a twenty-one-year-old should be thinking about. The boys in the family piled on the pressure, Hyrum going on his own mission, both boys marrying, having children. Every time she went to church, she had to face the barrage of questions about her plans again.

  She began to avoid church by visiting her mother’s grave, at first just sitting there silently. Eventually, she’d begun talking to other frequent, mostly elderly visitors and discovered in listening to them how difficult it was for many to do errands. It seemed only natural to offer her help, and over the years, she had begun doing a load of laundry here, a trip to the grocery there, anything to avoid the ticking clock the church continued to wave in her face. These all provided a reasonable excuse for missing church, which her father would accept with his typical grimace.

  How many places would she run into the newcomer today, she asked herself. Would it be the supermarket? The laundromat? The drugstore? She buried her
face in her hands, forced to consider that something, someone, maybe God, had decided she had run from her faith long enough. Sure, Quincy was a small town, but she didn’t seem to see anyone with the frequency she saw the professor.

  Her father’s light footsteps stopped at her door. “Will you join us today?” he asked, his hushed voice matched his slight frame.

  She met his eyes and smiled. “Yes, I think I will.”

  He masked his surprise by cleaning his spotless glasses with one of the cloth handkerchiefs he always carried. “Your sister and I are ready.”

  Halley’s eyes found her often, but Hope said nothing in the backseat, preparing herself for church after months of avoidance. She dreaded the grannies and the aunties who would quiz her. Had she been attending a different ward? Met someone? Oh, how they wanted to have her matched, settled and procreating. She searched for a way into the chapel of the Big Meadow Ward without shaking the missionaries’ hands. She knew for sure that she had become a project, that they would be itching to pounce on her and sweep her back into the folds of the church. Would she talk to them? The new bishop?

  She was grateful when Halley’s arm slipped through hers, expertly navigating her past the landmines she’d been picturing. She made easy small talk, always so good at pleasantries that only seemed to come to Hope when she was not at church. “You’ll be fine,” Halley whispered.

  In the chapel or in my life, Hope wanted to ask. Wasn’t this why she had decided to go to church today? To find some solace or sense of direction? She managed the requisite handshakes and chitchat as people settled around them. The former bishop, Isaiah Moore, squeezed her shoulder and nodded his approval of her position between her father and sister as he continued down the row in front of them. The current bishop was new since she’d last attended. She knew him, of course, as a member of the church but looked at him differently since he had taken his new role, wondering if she could talk to him about her struggle. There was no way in hell she would have approached Bishop Moore with her questions.