Van ventured, “Should I even ask what’s going to happen to Frilly and Dilly?”
“Well, I had to put my foot down.” Charity scowled at her brother. “Nobody is eating my babies, and that’s that.”
“They’ll be moving to Happy Hearts,” said Jameson resignedly. “I called Daphne about it today. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll be trucking them over there.”
“I’ll miss them,” said Charity. “But I’m really grateful to Daphne that she’s made a place where heifers with personality can find a loving home.”
The talk turned to other subjects. Winona invited everyone out to see her at Wisdom by Winona. She promised support and advice for anything that might be troubling them—no issue too large or too small—at a reasonable fee. Grandma Daisy, an artist who’d once illustrated a famous series of children’s stories, shared a couple of funny anecdotes about her favorite students in the art class she taught now at the local senior center.
Jameson sat right there beside Van for a good half hour. She took way too much pleasure in his nearness and tried not to act at all interested in him. That would only get the family on her case. They would start in about how she ought to move home. She didn’t need that.
But the clear, cool evening seemed even more beautiful since Charity’s big brother had claimed the space at Van’s side.
As for Jameson, he seemed happy just hanging out, joining in the easy conversation at the table. And each time Van met his eyes, she felt that secret little thrill shimmer through her.
Too often, love had disappointed her. But attraction? That always felt great. There was nothing so sweet as wanting a guy and knowing that whatever did or didn’t happen, he felt the pull, too.
Had he reconsidered the offer she’d made last night?
She couldn’t help but hope so.
The shadows lengthened, and nighttime approached. A six-piece local band took the stage over by the portable dance floor erected in the park every year for the barbecue.
Jameson glanced up at the darkening sky. “Time I checked on the folks. Maddox and Dawson can always use another hand loading the cookers.”
Charity added, “And there’s all the picnic gear to pack up.” The two rose to go.
“Thanks for everything.” Van gave Charity back her spangled hat.
“Tomorrow,” said Charity, settling the hat on her flowing blond curls. “Noon. Happy Hearts.”
“Perfect.” As Van watched them go, she couldn’t help hoping she might see Jameson again that evening.
Meanwhile, Van’s mom and grandmother started putting the lids on the Tupperware. Everyone over fifty seemed to think it was time to head home.
Grandma Daisy spoke of watching the fireworks later from the front yard. “I like to head straight to my bed once the last rocket shoots skyward,” she said with a tired little smile.
After hugs all around, the older folks went on their way.
Van and Callie sat at the table, enjoying the evening together, until one of the Sanchez boys asked Callie to dance. Van got up, too. She stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching, loving the sound of boots tapping rhythm in time to the music.
Some cowboy she’d never met before moved close. “Dance?”
“I would love to.”
They joined the crowded floor for “Boot Scootin’ Boogie.” When that one was over, another cowboy stepped up. They danced to an old Kenny Chesney song. As that song ended, she thanked him and turned—right into the arms of the man she’d been waiting for.
The band launched into a cover of “Beautiful Crazy.”
Talk about a glorious moment. Van closed her eyes and gave herself up to the clear night, the glow of the party lights strung overhead, that first star keeping watch far above and the perfect feel of Jameson’s strong arms around her.
“We should talk.” His breath was warm in her ear.
“Hmm.” She brushed the close-cut hair at the back of his neck, reveled in the feel of his skin under her fingers. So what if love never worked out for her? Heat and magic, passion and tenderness—on a night like tonight, those felt like more than enough. “Talk? That’s what you want from me?”
“To start, yeah.”
She pressed her body closer to his. It felt so right when he held her in his arms. All through the long winter, into spring and early summer, she’d missed this.
