Hearing the soft footfalls of sneakers, she waited for her youngest son, Ryan, to appear in the kitchen. He’d been spending more time on the ranch in the past few days, partly, she suspected, to distract himself from his own life and its ups and downs.
“Hey, Mom.” He sat at the long table. “What’s happening?”
She asked him about himself, his team, Carly, but it wasn’t long before he asked about Clint and Indigo Bay. Word of their time together had traveled quickly in Sweetheart Creek.
She dodged Ryan’s questions, giving him a “Clint and I are friends” response.
“He’s made it clear he’d like to be more than that.”
“Have you been talking to Levi?” She sat straighter and clutched her cup.
“You don’t like Clint?”
“He is a very thoughtful man who…” She clucked, catching herself. “You don’t want to hear about your mother’s love life.”
“You have a love life?”
She narrowed her eyes. No wonder so many of Ryan’s students came to him for advice. She’d seen it before and after football games, and now she understood why. He had a way about him.
“Tell me,” he said, reminding her of Clint.
“Why don’t you tell me about you and Carly instead?”
Ryan deftly tried to change the subject, just like she had. Her youngest kept his cards close to his chest, and usually was a distracted, fast-moving missile. He kept his hands in several projects at a time, his head always somewhere else. But right now he looked like he could use a cookie and a glass of milk. And maybe a hug, too.
Something had definitely happened with Carly. And seeing as the tractor was still around, she had a feeling his plan to help out the independent woman had fallen through.
Maria opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, knowing it was time to let her sons do more of their own problem solving. They were good at it.
Before she realized it, they were arguing mildly about whether men or women broke up more relationships.
“Women leave,” Ryan said.
Maria laughed. He was wrong.
She sobered quickly. Had Carly left him?
“Men leave. I guess women do, too,” she said finally. “People leave.”
Maybe it was truly that simple, just one of those facts of life. People were born. People died. Sometimes they left others. Sometimes they didn’t.
Clint hadn’t left Kay-Lynn. She’d left him.
And maybe sometimes women should leave, like Fiona, but they didn’t. Her friend kept hanging on to William, refusing to let him go, refusing to let his new attitude defeat them and their love.
“You gave it a shot with Clint, didn’t you?” Ryan asked.
“I tried, but he left,” Maria said absently, still sorting out her thoughts about Fiona and William.
“He left?” Ryan asked with a hint of incredulity.
She explained how he’d flown home early.
“So he up and went home?”
Before long they were talking about Brant and April, Cole and everyone under the sun, it seemed. Ryan reminded her so much of that little boy who’d once sought her advice. He hadn’t asked her for much in so long it broke her heart, thinking how independent her youngest had become.
Then suddenly, while she was putting her cup in the dishwasher, Ryan said, “You know he came home because Levi needed him to?”
He mentioned the tractor, but she knew that wasn’t the real reason Clint had returned. It didn’t add up. Clint had been like Fiona, steadfastly clinging to love and hope, and everything they’d built over those four days together. Plus the tractor was still out of commission, and if he’d come back early as a gesture to show he was worthy of her heart, then why hadn’t he at least called?
There was still a missing piece to the whole Clint puzzle.
“I know you worry about how Clint would fit into our lives, but do you think Dad cared when he married Sophia? Maybe you need to take care of yourself for once.” Ryan stood, such certainty in his posture. “I don’t think Clint left you, Mom. I think you’re seeing what you want to see out of fear of getting hurt.”
Her son was right, but she wasn’t sure where to go from here. She’d never had to deal with anything like this with Roy. It had always been straightforward. Never charged with such emotion.
She’d said some things to Clint that had made it clear she didn’t want him in her life.
And she had been so very wrong.
“Is Clint here?” Maria stood at the back counter and scanned the Longhorn Diner, not seeing the man in question. Christmas songs played over the speakers, and in a few days the holiday would have come and gone. She still needed to sort something out with Roy regarding Christmas Day. He and the boys had all been leaning toward having their own celebration the day after, and she kept her fingers crossed it would all work out for them. “Jenny from the shop next door said she saw him come in.”
“I know who Jenny Oliver is,” Fiona said with an amused smirk. “You just missed him.”
Maria slid onto a stool, giving the room a second glance. In one of the booths, Carly Clarke was sitting with Laura, April and Jackie. They were huddled together, chatting.
But no Clint.
“Did he get the tractor fixed?” Fiona asked.
“I don’t think so,” Maria said distractedly.
Her friend leaned against the counter. “For the record, I’m still not impressed about you not fixing things with him. But you looking for him has promise. I heard he’s going to Riverbend to pick up a part. He was in here getting coffee to go.”
Maria stood.
“He’s already long gone,” Fiona warned.
It felt like she’d been chasing him for days and was always missing him. Coincidence? Likely, but she was getting paranoid that he might be avoiding her, and she wasn’t sure how much longer her courage would last when it came to trying to track him down to talk about things.
“Something’s up,” Maria said, feeling as though everyone had been a bit more guarded since she’d come home.
“Yeah?” Fiona’s eyebrows lifted. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure. Do you know?” She studied her friend, on the lookout for a hint or a tell.
Fiona picked up her coffeepot. “I’ve got to take the girls a top-up.”
Maria turned, surprised she was letting the topic drop. Was Fiona a part of whatever was making everyone slightly weird lately, or had Maria really shifted her perspective while away and now everything and everyone seemed different to her?
“Karen’ll want coffee.” Fiona pointed toward the town’s librarian, who’d joined Carly’s table.
The diner was fairly busy for a Wednesday, and Maria impatiently waited for Fiona to return. She finally slipped behind the counter to make a fresh pot of coffee, saying, “You never told me how the gala went.”
“Kit said there were some hiccups and drama, of course, but otherwise it went well, as did the adoption drive. They raised enough money to expand the animal shelter after a generous last-minute donation came in.”
“And your paintings on the bags were popular, I heard?”
“It sounds like they were a nice added touch.”