But tonight, my family and I were set to have dinner in San Antonio to celebrate our progress on the shelter. It’d all happened a little last minute, and since they had shopping they wanted to do beforehand and I had work to finish up, they left before I was home. So I got myself ready alone, even did my hair up and put on my fancy earrings, since we had reservations at one of the nicest restaurants on the Riverwalk, perfect for a little black dress and heels.
The note on the counter said to take Grant’s Audi, and if it wasn’t written in his hand, I never would have taken the infernal thing. That car cost more than anything with wheels I’d ever driven, but Jo had made us all learn how to drive it, I suspected because she reveled in our discomfort. She knew the feeling, I guess. There was a time she’d cursed that car and contemplated sugaring his its tank. Boy, how things had changed.
Some days, it felt like everything was different. The town had stumbled into a wood chipper and was left unrecognizable. Some people had moved away, some had moved back. Jo had gone off and found herself someone to love, and that maybe brought the biggest change of all for us. For the first time in more than fifteen years, a man lived on the premises. A good man, one we were glad to have. But it had shifted our dynamic, and like Mama had said—Jo went from barking every man off the front porch to nudging us all into suitors’ arms.
The pact we’d made after Drew died had lost its weight. At the time, promising not to date until our mother did was insurance that we wouldn’t have to. We could hide behind silly curses and unrealistic promises made because it was too scary to think about loving someone and losing them.
But Jo was basking in the glow of love and wanted us all to catch the feeling too. It was a thoughtful intention, however hard she came at it. She’d never been the picture of tact. More the picture of a swinging baseball bat.
If I were her, I’d be giving Poppy as much flak as Jo had been giving me. But I was an easy target, simply because I never let her know she got to me. Jo and Poppy would be scratching each other’s eyes out if this had passed between them. So I did my best to ignore Jo, smiling and nodding while she went on. Let her get it out of her system and (hopefully) give up the ghost.
There weren’t many single men in town of Mama’s age, and truth was, she’d known most of them since they were all kids and the rest because of their friendships with our father. Dating out of town was too hard, especially when you lived an hour away from a major metro area. And the last time Mama tried to date, it was Grant’s father. That disaster was its own story.
Part of me wondered if Mama even wanted to date. Was she lonely? What would happen if we did all happen to find somebody and move off the farm? She’d be all alone.
The thought made me sick to my stomach.
Fortunately, it wasn’t anything I had to worry about now. Maybe ever. We were on the verge of some kind of change, the kind you can feel in the breeze and hear in the rustling of leaves. But for now, there was nothing to do but what we’d been doing. So that was just what we’d do.
It was just past sunset when I pulled up to the valet, which I’d maybe done twice in my life. My instructions in regard to the car were very specific, including such things as this. Knowing my inexperience—did you tip before or after?—Grant even put a twenty under the keys and noted when to hand it over. Sounded like too much to me, but Grant had a different relationship with money than we did.
Over the generations, our farm had done better than most, though we had nothing near the millions Grant possessed. Blum’s Bees had even survived the depression, helping keep the town afloat in a time when everything everywhere was sinking. When no one could afford or find processed sugar, they could find and afford local honey. We didn’t hit it rich or anything—we sold it for too little, more inclined to help our neighbors than turn a profit—but we were able to weather the storm and come out the other end in one piece.
Helping people and giving back was an important part of our history, a part we still held dear and true. That was, perhaps, our greatest legacy.
I hated that the divide in our town had made that so hard of late. Such were the times we lived in.
The valet took my hand to help me out, and once both heels were on the pavement, I headed for the door, clutch in hand, scanning for my family.
I found Keaton instead.
He stood just outside the front door, looking up the street with consternation on his face. He glanced at his watch and let out a breath, beginning his search for his guests again.
When his eyes caught mine, it was clear that he hadn’t expected to find me either.
Those dark eyes widened, then smoldered as they traced my face. And I traced his. The way the soft light kissed one cheek, the bridge of his nose, half of his lips, casting the rest in twilight’s shadow. His size wasn’t diminished by his suit, cut to his shape and black as pitch. In fact, he looked bigger, larger than life, a powerful man by right, whether it be in denim and work boots or a suit and tie.
At the sight of him, I’d come to a brief stop just as I’d stepped onto the sidewalk. When I realized it, I moved my feet again, putting on a smile in a poor attempt to mask my surprise.
“Keaton? What are you doing here?”
He shook his head just a little as if to clear it. “I was supposed to meet my brothers and Sophie here, something about celebrating how far we’ve come on the shelter.”
I sighed, knowing exactly what happened. “Wouldn’t you know, I was supposed to meet my family here for the same reason.”
He looked off as it hit him, his jaw clenching. “Those assholes,” he muttered.
“I didn’t expect my sisters and your brothers to gang up on us. One to one is inevitable, but this? You have to admire their determination.”
He humphed. “They’re going to admire my boot in their ass.”
“I hope you’re talking about your brothers,” I teased.
Surprise skittered across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, my brothers.”
We fell silent, the two of us casting sideways glances in whatever direction the other wasn’t. I wasn’t embarrassed, exactly. More excitement than anything, coupled with a hefty concern about what I was sure would end in some form of rejection—I didn’t have gear fit to reach Keaton Island.
Despite that, I pulled up my big girl pants and smiled at him. “Well, we came all this way. Would you care to have dinner with me, Mr. Meyer?”
A returning smile tugged at his lips, his shoulders, jaw, forehead easing with the expression. “Sure. Let’s see if they actually made a reservation.”
He pulled open the door, and I walked past him with my nerves firing. I hadn’t been on a real live date in a real long time, and sharing a meal alone with Keaton was beyond my imagination. But here we were, walking into a very expensive restaurant in cocktail attire, just the two of us.
We were led outside to a table next to the river under a canopy of ancient trees. Keaton pulled my chair out for me, and I went a little knock-kneed as I whispered my thanks and sat.
I watched him smooth his tie before sitting, his eyes on the silverware as he settled in. The table was small, only meant for two, lit by candlelight. Trees rustled above us, and music played quietly from somewhere nearby.
Golden lights hung everywhere—strung in the tree, hanging across the river, lining the bridges, clinging to the edge of wide, slow boats as they drifted by, slow and lazy and sighing.