A Fourth of July Proposal, page 10
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” He made sure his voice was level.
Her eyes flew up.
“No, I want—I need to do this. But...” Her voice trailed away.
“But what, Rachel?” She might be trying to be kind, not wanting to say the words out loud, but he needed to hear them. He needed the truth. He needed a reality check.
She drew a breath. “This is going to sound...weak. I know, I am weak. That’s why I get talked into doing all this stuff for other people. I don’t say no, that I don’t want to do something. People think I’m nice, but I’m just weak.
“I need to change that. And this, riding the bike? It makes me feel strong, and free.”
She finally met his eyes. She had such hope on her face.
“I don’t want the town knowing about this, talking about it, telling me all the reasons I shouldn’t do this. I should just tell them all to take a hike, but—”
She looked away again.
Ryker could picture it, all too easily. All those old ladies, and the old geezers from the bazaar yesterday, sharing hair-raising stories of some horrendous accident that had happened to a friend of a friend...
“Everyone means well. And I don’t want to hurt them. But it’s time I do some things just for me.
“When I move away, no one is going to think, ‘Oh no, Rachel can’t do that. That’s not like her.’”
Ryker had grown up with the burden of the Slade reputation, and it followed him still, here in Carter’s Crossing. He didn’t realize that Rachel had her own burden.
He’d been expected to do stupid, reckless, selfish things. He hadn’t been trusted, and he hadn’t been relied on, either.
Rachel might say she was weak, not nice, but that wasn’t accurate. She was nice. Kind, considerate, grateful. Her weakness was not wanting to hurt people.
If only more people had that weakness.
Giving her a small chance to be selfish, to do something of no value beyond making her happy? He could do that. And he would. But they had to find a place that worked.
“Nelson Carter’s farm? It has a long driveway.”
She considered; brows creased.
“I’d have to tell him about it. And Mariah. And the noise might disturb the horses.”
He didn’t know horses, but that sounded like a possibility.
“My place?”
He mentally smacked himself. Why had he offered that? The house was the place he was avoiding.
“I thought you said Gifford’s lot was too small.”
“No, where I grew up.”
Rachel stared at him. It was difficult to meet her gaze.
“Are you ready for that?”
She was perceptive.
He turned, looking over the view that this waypoint served to highlight. There was beauty in these hills, even during this early spring season before the deciduous trees had returned to life. He’d grown up with this, hadn’t realized he’d missed it.
He imagined going back to the house with Rachel. Taking the bike, teaching her to balance and ride up and down the drive. They had a loop, back behind the house, back to the old shed.
For this? The lessons? It would work well.
They didn’t need to go inside. They could drive up; he could give her lessons on handling the bike and then leave. He could deal with the memories and mess from the outside. It might be an easier transition, to go there with Rachel, before he approached the inside again.
It would be easier to teach her in a parking lot, but the old place would do. It would do for both of them.
He turned back to Rachel, who had stepped away and was now gazing at the ravine falling below them. Giving him time, giving him space, giving him nice.
Nice might be confining Rachel, smothering her, but nice was certainly something he valued. There hadn’t been enough nice in his life.
“When do you want to do this? It has to be daytime. I’m not going to try to teach you to handle the bike when it’s dark. Otherwise, I can be flexible about hours.”
Rachel didn’t ask him again if he was prepared to do this at the house.
“We close up the office Wednesday afternoons. And I can make sure I’m free on Saturdays. Sundays, well...”
They could work with that.
“There’s gonna be homework. I’m going to give you a book to read, about motorcycles, safety, the issues with other drivers, and you need to read that first. Then let me know when you’re free, and if the weather permits, we’ll get started.”
The smile was back on her face, and he had put it there. There was an answering smile inside him, but he kept his expression neutral.
She needed to take this seriously.
“That is awesome, Ryker! Thank you so much. I’ll read every word, promise.”
With Rachel, you knew that promise would be kept. He wasn’t used to that, either.
He nodded at the bike. “Do you want to go back now, or ride some more?”
He needn’t have asked, not after seeing how her face had lit up. He knew what her answer would be. They were riding.
He got back on his bike, and Rachel climbed on behind him. She wrapped herself around him, and he felt an inner warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time. So long, he couldn’t remember.
He had a feeling he was heading into a different kind of danger, but he didn’t back down.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RACHEL WASN’T THE first one to the diner this Tuesday night.
Ryker had found her the book online, and it arrived that morning. It was about motorcycle riding, and she’d been reading it every chance she had. She’d been distracted enough that she’d almost missed the meeting.
The book went into a lot of detail about the dangers of riding a motorcycle. Rachel wondered if Ryker had hoped to scare her off. Not a chance. She’d enjoyed the ride too much.
Still, she was reading it carefully, ready if he wanted to test her on it. She didn’t want to be reckless, at least not more reckless than getting on a motorcycle in the first place.
That, she was eager to do.
Jaycee and Mariah were already there. This time she’d arrived to find her drink waiting on the table, while the others were already focused on the plans for Jaycee’s wedding.
She slipped into the side of the booth. The other two were poring over a calendar.
“What’s up?”
The two jerked upright.
“Rachel! Hey. What kept you?”
Without waiting for a response, Mariah answered Rachel’s question.
“Abigail has suggested a July Fourth wedding date. She thinks we can make it a whole town event, with lots of video and photos, something that will look great on the website. Maybe you can do a Cupid to go with it? With fireworks?
“And since the monster-in-laws are heading south the middle of July, it’s a way to force them to attend.”
Jaycee winced. Rachel covered her hand.
“Are you okay with that, Jaycee?”
Jaycee sighed. “My first choice would be spending a year picking out every detail and making everyone sick of hearing me talk about my wedding. You know, like I dreamed. But that would include having Dave’s parents on board, and that’s not going to happen.
“Dave is really upset with his parents, and I don’t want to make a permanent rift. So yeah, let’s go big. Let’s make this wedding such a huge success that it will be the one everyone compares others to for years to come.”
“Exactly,” Rachel encouraged. “Around here people will use it as a landmark. ‘Where were you when Jaycee and Dave got married?’ Or, ‘I remember that happened the same year as the wedding. You know, that amazing wedding when Jaycee finally married Dave.’”
Jaycee’s expression lit up. “Exactly, Rachel. And Dave talked to his sister, and they’re coming up for it. So there, Monster-in-Law!”
Mariah nodded, but she was in planning mode.
“We have to go with red, white and blue, then, for colors. Adding in anything else would get too busy. Can you live with that, Jaycee? Pink or green will clash with the town decorations that Abigail says will be up everywhere. I want this to be a wedding that will involve the whole town. The bunting we’ll put up everywhere will be part of it. The fireworks display will send you two off on your honeymoon.”
Jaycee frowned. She nodded, slowly.
Mariah pulled out her tablet and started a presentation of the ideas she’d come up with.
“We’re going to cross our fingers for a clear day. The Farmers’ Almanac says it will be, and apparently, that’s considered golden here.
“I want to use the park. We’ll do something different than the usual bunting around the gazebo.”
That was where Mariah and Nelson got engaged on Valentine’s Day.
“Red and white flowers. There are few blue flowers that look good, so I thought we could use blue in the bridesmaids’ dresses and the guys’ ties. Here are the colors I’m thinking of.”
Jaycee and Rachel almost bumped heads.
“How many bridesmaids are you thinking?”
Jaycee held up a hand. “You two, of course. Dave’s sister. She’s going to be big as a house, she said, but I still want her there. She’s super supportive of us, so it’s important that she’s part of it.”
Mariah made a note. “We’ll get to the details of the dresses soon. What about the guys?”
“Nelson, and Micah and Jonas from Oak Hill. He considered his brother-in-law, but then I’d have to find someone else, as well. Jonas has a girlfriend, but I don’t know her that well, and I don’t know if they’ll still be together then.”
Mariah stared toward the counter, apparently focused on the breakfast menu posted above. That menu hadn’t changed in ten years, so Rachel knew her friend was lost in her planning somewhere, rather than considering ordering pancakes. They waited for her to come back to them.
“I think the three attendants on each side is the right size for the gazebo. Let me see if I can come up with some way to include the brother-in-law. Is there anything I need to keep him away from?”
Conversation continued as Mariah ran over the details for a July Fourth wedding.
Rachel’s attention drifted. She’d made up her own ideal wedding plans when she was a kid, and had updated them, through college.
Then, when she began to worry that she’d never have a real wedding, she’d stopped, afraid to jinx herself. Her priorities had changed. She didn’t worry about colors and themes. She asked only that she find a good man. Someone who loved her. Then she didn’t care whether the wedding was big or small, fancy or plain.
Apparently, she was too desperate now to be fussy.
“Rachel!”
She brought herself back to the here and now. “Sorry, thoughts were wandering.”
“Did Ryker Slade really help you at the bazaar this weekend?” Jaycee asked.
Rachel willed her cheeks not to turn red. “Yes. I asked if he’d help out with some of the heavy stuff.”
Jaycee’s eyes widened. “Really? Ryker Slade? Why did you ask him? Why not Nelson or Dave?”
Because they were always busy when she asked them?
Mariah spoke up. “Ryker’s working on the website, and Rachel is helping him. So that’s my fault. It’s not a problem, is it?”
Jaycee was frowning. “How did you even know Ryker would do something like that? Are you sure you want him involved?”
Rachel frowned. If Ryker was good enough to design a website for the town, why couldn’t he help out at the bazaar? It wasn’t like he was going to steal doilies from the craft table or poison the plants.
Mariah shook her head. “Wow, I didn’t understand just how much this town hated the Slades.”
Jaycee looked abashed.
“Sorry. It was a long time ago. I don’t know what Ryker is like now. But his brothers are in jail, and his dad...well, I know everyone is relieved he’s in a home now and not causing more trouble.”
Rachel held herself back from attacking Jaycee. “Ryker helped set up for the bazaar and came back to pack up, as well. He’s here to take care of his dad’s place and sell it, since no one else is willing to do it. So maybe we can cut him some slack and not expect him to steal the Sunday School offering.”
Okay, not quite as controlled as she’d hoped.
Jaycee held up her hand. “Okay, okay, I retract what I said. But you have to admit the Slades were always trouble. Even Ryker, back in high school.”
“Tell me again about the story with the Slades,” Mariah requested. “Slade senior was a piece of work What did the kids do?”
Jaycee pointedly looked at Rachel.
Rachel shook her head. “Mrs. Slade died when the kids were really young. Mr. Slade is an alcoholic. He lost his job at the mill because he was drunk and he wrecked a machine, but Mr. Slade always blamed the mill. The kids regularly didn’t show up at school, and they sometimes had bruises. Like Jaycee said, the two oldest, the twins, are in prison. Grand theft auto. They suspected Ethan was part of it, but he vanished.” She swallowed, feeling guilty, but this was the story everyone in town knew. “Ryker crashed a stolen car into a tree while he was drunk and joined the air force so that he wouldn’t be prosecuted. The girls left, one after the other. I’m not sure what happened to them.”
She wondered if Ryker knew, if he kept in touch with his siblings.
“When you tell it like that, well...” Jaycee trailed off. “I guess the Slade kids had a tough time. If Ryker has cleaned up his act, then that’s great. I hope things work out for him, especially since he did serve.”
Mariah was focused on her job. “Rachel, if there’s any reason I should worry let me know, but otherwise I’m going to assume that Ryker has made a success of himself. You’re doing okay with him, right?”
Rachel nodded, and let the conversation proceed. She continued to think about Ryker, as she did much too often.
People had heard that he helped at the bazaar, and the people working there had been impressed by him. But there was still a lot of bad history to overcome before people would see the man Ryker was today.
It wasn’t really her problem. She was leaving. Ryker might stay or he might not.
But he’d helped her at the church, and he was teaching her to ride a motorcycle. She wanted to do something of equal value for him. She just had to figure out what she could do.
She wasn’t giving up, though. He deserved better.
* * *
RYKER CAME INTO the shop, ready to pick up a couple more computers that Benny had let him know needed work. Benny was on the phone, so Ryker headed to the table where Benny left the computers for him.
There was a note. Moonstone’s reservation system wasn’t working properly, and they would like him to stop by to check it out.
Ryker paused.
Moonstone’s was what passed for fine dining in Cart—Cupid’s Crossing. Not a place he would be welcomed.
This kind of work wasn’t his specialty, but he’d done it before. He’d never expected to be asked by Moonstone’s to access their computer system. Fourteen years ago he’d been banned from the place. He and some of his “friends” had thought it would be hilarious to put a dead opossum they’d found in Moonstone’s kitchen one night.
Maybe Rachel knew more about what she was doing than he’d given her credit for. He’d happily move tables every weekend if it meant people would give him a chance.
He paused. Did he really want that?
He could bail on the town as soon as he sold the house. He didn’t have to worry about his reputation in this town after. Anywhere else, he could start with a fresh slate.
But maybe he did want that. Maybe he did want the people in this town to know he’d changed. That he’d overcome a crappy start and made something worthwhile of himself.
Maybe Rachel was right. He shouldn’t be willing to let people think of him as one of those Slade kids. He was a better man now. Maybe he deserved the same things everyone else had.
He called the number Benny had posted on the bottom of the note.
“Moonstone’s. Jaycee speaking. How may I help you?”
“Jaycee, it’s Ryker. Ryker Slade.”
A short hesitation, very short, but he’d been listening for it.
“Benny told you we have a problem?”
Two problems, actually. The computer, and the fact that Ryker was the only IT in town.
“He left a note and your number.”
Jaycee sighed. “I’ll be honest, Ryker. The guy who left here fourteen years ago? I wouldn’t let him anywhere near our systems. But Rachel vouches for you, and Benny swears you’re a genius with computers, and there’s no one else who can get here right away.”
Thanks to Rachel and Benny, he’d gone from “out of the question” to “possible” if there was no one else available.
It was a start.
“I understand, Jaycee. I wouldn’t trust that kid, either.”
A reluctant laugh.
“Rachel would say I was being mean, but I thought it best to be honest. Despite what I said, would you help us?”
“It depends on what the problem is, but I can look. I might be able to fix it, might not.”
She sighed.
“Might is better than anything else I’ve got.”
“I don’t have anything time-sensitive, so I can come over now if that helps.”
Her tone softened. “That would be wonderful.” She drew a breath. “But if you mess us up, I’ll—well, I won’t be nice. At all.”
“I can’t promise to fix things, but I won’t make them worse. If I do, feel free to do your worst.”
He was about to hang up when she spoke again.
