Pick Me Read online

  “In a way but not completely.” Landry’s tone turned wistful. He petted the donkey, too. “Amy and Declan were high school sweethearts. We all hung around together at Thomas Muller High. I was older, but we had a lot in common. Our dads took off before we could remember ’em. Deck lost his mom early…”

  Landry started to talk faster. As though the words were too hard to say. Like pulling off a bandage. “Yup, our Alma Mater, named for Ten Oak’s founder. A real estate man who snatched up the ‘rancho’ from its original Mexican owners in 1877. Anyway, Deck’s grandfather owned these twelve acres. Grew avocado and lemon trees.” Landry’s voice shifted into a plane of grief she knew well. “Deck inherited the place, and then Amy did. After Deck…died in Iraq.”

  “Oh, no. I had no idea.” Kelsey’s heart plummeted, her fingers reaching for comfort in the donkey’s fur. Complicated families to start with, then such an early death. “She mentioned her son, but…”

  “Deck was a good man, a good soldier. They were just kids. After nine-eleven, he couldn’t wait to grow up and sign up. In between deployments, they got married, got pregnant.” His voice choked now. “He never even knew his baby was a boy.”

  “Oh, Landry, I am so sorry.” Kelsey grabbed his hand. “No need to, to say more.”

  “No, it’s all part of the history of Milk and Honey. Amy was majoring part time in Botany, me in agribusiness. She didn’t want to sell Declan’s heritage, so we came up with the idea of a small organic farm. With educational programs, like I said. Local handmade products. She’s borne the lions’ share of everything. Said it helped her keep sane, you know, after…Deck.”

  “I can’t imagine it. All the while raising a baby.”

  Landry grinned. “Corky—Corcoran—is almost a teenager.” He moved from the animal pens, took her hand in a laid-back way.

  Kelsey laughed back, just as casual although her fingers heated. “Oh, the terrible teens.” She forced from her voice the trembles at his touch. “Tell her to get ready for anything. I actually started out teaching junior high.”

  It was the proper lead in to her own history, but she didn’t want to. Not now. So she rushed ahead. “I don’t see any lemon trees.”

  Although curiosity shone in Landry’s eyes, his manners held out. “That’s the one footprint we had to change. There’s the threat of a dangerous citrus pest, the Asian psyllid. It hasn’t been seen in our county yet, but as a preemptive strike, Amy removed the lemon trees. Actually, she used the wood for the benches in the amphitheatre. That made room for her nursery plants and vegetable gardens. And of course, beehives and goats. See there?”

  Landry pointed through the flickering shade of avocado trees at a little rough-hewn amphitheatre. “Lectures by smart people and performances by local musicians. And back there…” He tilted his head toward an old-fashioned, well-used Quonset hut in a small clearing. “That’s where Amy holds classes on cheese-making.”

  “Wow. I think Declan would be proud. It’s all so perfect. Like a storybook.” Her fingers tightened a bit with each word.

  He showed her the beehives, then led her into a little shed. Newish but built to look rustic. “Milk and Honey Mercantile, otherwise known as gift shop and grocer. Everything here is made by regional artists and crafters. And a good chunk of Amy’s profits goes to veterans’ charities.”

  “Wow.” Humbled, Kelsey nodded at jars of honey stacked in a basket, goat cheese in a small dorm-size fridge. Handmade jewelry designed by local artists. Little brown-paper packets of Milk and Honey seeds. How remarkable to construct something wonderful from such tragedy. Gunnar seemed farther away than ever before. “I so need to take home some honey and those cheeses.”

  “No pressure.” Landry smiled at her. “Amy’s holding a class on making goat cheddar in a couple of weeks.”

  “I’ll try to make the time.”

  “Good.” His eyes sparkled. “Say, Kelsey, do you ride?”

  “Horses?” Out of nowhere, but the image of him on a horse pranced through her head again. Obviously he was a man who spoke his mind. And obviously she liked horses. Her heart pounded. “No. Not…not really. I know, I know. This is horse country, and I help around horses but…I grew up at the beach in Santa Monica.”

  No need now or ever to mention the “equine therapy” she’d needed after Gunnar.

  “Would you like to learn?”

  Good heavens. He wanted to see her again. Did learning mean, she’d sit behind him in a saddle? Touching.

  Slowly, in self-preservation, she loosened her hand from his. “I…I hadn’t thought about it. Are you offering to give me lessons?”

  “Yep. Amy’s got a very resilient and gentle horse.”

  “Well, let me think about it. Right now all my concentration needs to go toward those carrots.” She laughed but nerves roiled across her neck. Too much going on. “Besides, I’m not dressed for it right now anyway.”

  “Well, I was thinking…maybe tomorrow?”

  “I’m at the rescue most of the day. Maggie and I feed and muck first thing. Then her class is coming for a service project.”

  “Maybe I could help out, too.”

  Kelsey shook her head. “Not yet, sorry. All volunteers need to take an orientation class first. Insurance requirement. It’s held the first Saturday of each month. And since you’re not one of her fourth graders, you don’t have parental permission either.” She willed her eyes to flirt back.

  “I’ll write it down.” He closed his eyes tight like he was writing a mental note, smiling the whole time. They left the little store.

  What a gentleman, not pressing her on learning to ride. It might be natural for him, and she might be great at it, but whatever, she did want to see him again. After all, as Maggie had proclaimed, a date didn’t mean a proposal. It was a shot in the very deep down dark, but if he wanted to see her again, she was brave enough herself.

  “Maybe…maybe we could make tracks on those heart-shaped carrots. Although…” She bit her lip. “I don’t have the molds yet.”

  “Yeah. We would need those.” Landry’s handsome brow crinkled. “But about your ratatouille. If I may be so bold…” He swished several Francophile circles of hand motion at his face as he slightly bowed, “I am a fair hand in the kitchen. My mother was a gender-equality parent. Insisted I take Home-Ec at Muller. Amy had to take auto-shop in summer school. Yep, I know olive oil and homemade ice cream, and she knows oil changes and anti-freeze. I am offering my assistance with the ratatouille.”

  The air was still warm, but Kelsey’s heart pumped with cold nerves. It all sounded friendly and harmless, and he obviously wanted a reason to see her again and soon, but vigilance flashed anyway. She might be healing up quite nicely from Gunnar, thank you very much and honestly, thanks to Landry, but caution was still an important word in her vocabulary. Dinner for, or with, her family was just moving too fast. He hadn’t invited himself, of course, but how would she ask him to help prepare a meal he couldn’t eat?

  “Well, I admit…” Kelsey could hardly breathe. “My dad’s been executive chef at our house for just ever, and prefers to do it solo. But while there’s a distinct possibility I might murder Amy’s lovely veggies, Maggie promised even I can handle her recipe. Thanks anyway, though.”

  Even though it was the wisest decision, at least at this point in history, disappointment thumped in her gullet, and she was quite certain, dulled Landry’s eyes for a second.

  Then his gaze turned flirty again, and her breath hitched all over. “Well then, since you are definitely not in need of a shower today, how about grabbing coffee after we feed Amy’s starving beasts?”

  They’d stopped at the barn and inside, where Amy poured feed into buckets. The alfalfa pellets, which Kelsey recognized, bounced like hail against the tin.

  “Umm…” She glanced at her watch. But… “Let me see?”

  “You kids go along. I got this,” Amy called out with a laugh.

  Relief teased Kelsey. She had time.
r />   “A date?” Landry’s voice fell, his eyelids crinkled at the sides.

  For a second, she wondered if he’d mind if she was going out with somebody else. But she never played games.

  “Maggie. My colleague. We’re meeting for fish tacos at the pier. She loves watching the sunset. So yeah, I have time for a quick cuppa Joe.”

  “Then it’s a date.” Landry chuckled.

  “Yes, a date,” Kelsey said the word loud and firm, with one last grin at the pretty, little goats.

  ****

  Since Kelsey was meeting her friend and hadn’t the time to backtrack to Milk and Honey, Landry followed her car into town to the Brew Basket Coffeehouse. He didn’t describe his feelings quite as aching with anticipation but…almost.

  The main street was like most historic small towns, with well-kept heritage buildings like the Town Hall and combo Fire Department/Police Station, in the center. A few store fronts, empty or rundown on each end. A defunct gas station with antique pumps and a former car lot used for the farmer’s market on Thursdays. But Ten Oaks had gained repute for its refusal to permit chain and big-box stores. Plenty of stylish boutiques with bright new awnings and trendy, pet-friendly eateries with outdoor seating lined either side of the road. Curbs stuck here and there with old trees so charming even the bricks pushed up by their big roots fit right in.

  And Ten Oaks bustled as afternoon headed into Friday night. Rexman Drugs was apparently getting ready for a “midnight madness” sale, which Landry knew well meant closing up shop at nine p.m. He chuckled. A couple sat outside The Olive Branch, waiting for early-bird dinner service. It was a newish Mediterranean restaurant and hmmm. Maybe Kelsey would consent to a real date soon.

  But for now, his workaday Tall Timber jeans, khaki jacket over a plaid shirt would do just fine for the Brew Basket.

  Kelsey waited for him at the Brew Basket’s front door after he managed to find a parking spot. Breeze rustled her hair across her forehead, brushing it against her shoulders. His fingers ached to swipe through it. At least she’d agreed to coffee. Had he been too audacious, too bold, to hint at helping with her dinner tomorrow? Meeting family was a powerful event. All he’d meant was he wanted to spend time with her, soon, and the earlier plans thwarted it.

  She grinned. “A ‘happening’ place.”

  He laughed back. “Yup. Ten Oaks really comes to life on Friday nights.” He held the door, found a little table, and gestured to a chair. A comfy living-room overstuffed sort of armchair, like a grandmother might have. “Cappucino? Cafe au lait?”

  “Thanks.” Her eyes twinkled. “I better keep my palate fairly cleansed for the chips and salsa ahead. Just a dark roast for me, please. Cream, no sugar.”

  Whoa. Same thing he always drank. Since they weren’t drinking to-go, the hot beverages came served in thick white porcelain cups and saucers.

  “Oh, this is such a cute place. Just so…nothing like the same ol’ big name coffee houses on each corner in L.A. I mean, look at those old-fashioned coffee grinders. Teapots you find at flea markets. Just like Gramma’s house.”

  Whoa again. Same thing he’d just thought. He settled into his own snug chair, covered with upholstered roses the size of pink cabbages. Maybe it was time to act interested in her life, without being nosy. Well, he knew some of her details, but not her take on anything. And why would she think he knew anything at all?

  “I know you said you’re from Santa Monica,” he started, casual, fiddling with a big linen napkin. “Sounds like you’re not a big fan of the same-old/same-old in L.A. What…what made you leave?”

  Kelsey glanced away, hesitated. “I fell in love. Oh, it’s not like I’m some sappy, can’t do it by myself woman.” She looked quick into his eyes. “But when he suggested moving here…well, I realized I was tired of the rat race. The traffic.” Her gaze flicked away from his, back into her past? “I mean, I lived seven miles from Elmore Elementary—the only decent apartment complex I could afford—and it took over an hour one way to get there in the morning. And getting home took even longer.” Her nose crinkled so adorably he ached to touch her face. “Exponential, depending on how many minutes after four o’clock I could leave. And, well.” She sighed a little. “Before I met him. I’d driven up the central coast many times. This area’s just quieter, less hassle.”

  “I hear you, about hassles.”

  She stirred her coffee. “I found a job at Homewood School right away. Being privately funded, Homewood pays better, smaller classes. I don’t have to worry about getting a pink slip every time a school district re-budgets. You know?”

  When Kelsey smiled, he read no sadness in her lips, but she lost eye contact, gazed toward the antique grinders. Was she considering how much more to reveal?

  Or regretting what she’d already said?

  “It’s not all that far from my family. So it all just felt right. And then…” Kelsey looked him straight on, “And then he and I, um…it all just fell apart.”

  “I’m sorry. Yet you stayed.”

  “Yeah. For all the above reasons.” She took a long sip of the hot brew. Almost like it wasn’t hot. Then she met his gaze with strength, confidence. “I like the life I started here. Not how it—he—ended, but I realized I wasn’t going to run home to the same old thing.” Her fingers waggled against her cup. “Goodness, do you really want to know all this?”

  His heart bumped against his ribs. “I wanna know everything about you.” Landry managed a swallow, knees weak even sitting down.

  “Well, you actually probably know him. This being a small town and all.”

  “Maybe.” The fib stuck on his tongue.

  “Gunner. Isaacson. I was to find out later he was using his mother’s maiden name. Trying to ‘make it on his own,’ you know.” She shook her head a little, peered out the window.

  Landry rolled his eyes. “Okay, yeah. His dad Roald Ragner only won like twelve Academy Awards…”

  Kelsey harrumphed. “You’d not know it, though. Gunnar was so down to earth. We met in the dust of the Stagecoach Festival in Coachella. Through mutual friends of mutual friends. You know, that six degrees of separation thing. He just knocked my socks off. Just seemed so Everyman.

  Landry tried not to snort. Hypocrite…

  “I mean, he drove a truck like yours. Wore cowboy boots and Iron Maiden T-shirts. Loved Del Taco.”

  And never mentioned Elise and the kids. Landry’s heart banged now on her behalf. He tried to shrug.

  Lost in thought, Kelsey held her cup halfway to her mouth. “As time went on, he did start taking me to parties with lots of celebrity-types. But that happens in L.A. I found out about his dad. The gorgeous penthouse in Century City.” She cleared her throat, but her gaze was direct. “Warning signals? Maybe I should have known better. But then he took me up here to see his mother’s ranch. She was living in Sweden. We had the whole place to ourselves. Caretaker, staff. Everything was perfect. I just felt it, you know?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I do. About Ten Oaks getting in your blood.” They were both quiet, took gulpy sips. “Sorry, Kelsey. Heartbreak is never good.”

  Her smile all but blinded him. “But look at me now.”

  She had shared so much about Ten Oaks that he felt in his heart as well. When should Landry explain about the weariness that had sent him back? When should he pop in about the endless photo shoots in places where every man wore jeans? Which of course was everywhere?

  Well, at least he’d seen the world…

  Just then it seemed more important to talk about Gunnar. “I did know him in high school. His parents had a wicked divorce and spoiled him relentlessly. But he could be a charmer.”

  “Yeah. You got that right.” She laughed into her cup, but without any bitterness. Almost with true amusement. “Speaking of divorce, he told me he’d gotten one. I think he wanted to work on me, with his broken heart, you know? He never mentioned kids, though. I’d even asked. There wasn’t even as much as a legal separation. Two years after she
left, she came back. I know it surprised the heck out of him. Not to mention me.” Her voice quivered, but the bravery in her face impressed him. “I can’t deny it wasn’t a bad time. But I’m going to sound like Bartlett’s Quotations now. You know, we all make mistakes and are stronger for them.”

  “You didn’t make the mistake.” Landry’s knees tensed, wishing Gunnar was close enough to punch out. “You gave your heart to a man you trusted. He’s the lousy snake. He was pretty much a spoiled rich kid around here. I’m surprised nobody, um, mentioned it.”

  She shrugged now. “Well, it’s not exactly something that comes up in Parent-Teacher conferences. Or on a meditative faculty retreat. I hang around mostly with Maggie, and she’s only been in California a couple of years. But I have to say…”

  For a long moment, she didn’t say any more. But Landry enjoyed the silence, didn’t want to push.

  Finally, she blinked a few times. “It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t quick. But I came to realize I couldn’t regret Gunnar getting back with his kids. My dad’s a great guy. I can’t imagine a life without him.”

  Landry’s gut twisted; he’d never outgrow his fatherless years. “You’re lucky.”

  “Yeah, I am lucky in lots of ways. I mean, it hurt. Bad. But look at me now.” Her lips trembled a little, but her eyes brightened. “I was able to move to a better environment, better job.”

  Landry let his fingers dance against hers. “Whatever led you here, I’m sure glad you’re here now.”

  Her gaze warmed him through. “Uh, I…so how about you? Now that I’ve bared my soul.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her just as her phone joggled. She blinked at him. “It’s a text from Maggie. I gotta take this. In case plans have changed.”

  “Sure.” Landry hated the hope that maybe plans had changed and she could stay longer. He’d tell her all about himself. But he casually chugged the last of his coffee. How right she was. He’d moved back, too. Maybe it was time to leave the past behind. Contract was coming due, and the financial incentive lucrative but…did he want to sell out another time? Amy and Corky’d be taken care of forever. His own future kids, too.