Play It Safe

Chapter Thirty-Five I Still Want You to Take Mine

Four months later…

“Honey! We’re going to miss our reservation!” I called up the stairs to Gray who was changing into his suit.

Or at least I hoped he was. I heard the shower go off ten minutes ago and my man was not a man who primped.

“Be down in a minute, darlin’!” Gray shouted back, I sighed and walked on my high heels into the kitchen.

It was October and it was my birthday and we should have left the house in order to make our reservation at Jenkins five minutes ago.

Gray had gone into town and came back late. Now we were running late.

And I was hungry.

The last four months, things had settled on the land and in Mustang.

The barn was up, painted red with white trim and it was old-fashioned like the last one was. That one was old-fashioned because it was old; this one was because that was what Gray wanted it to be.

It was also enormous.

Seeing as horse breeding was the family business, the other one was too and had twenty-six stalls.

But this one had thirty, a big tack room, a big feed room and a hayloft complete with the pulley outside and double doors with criss-cross white boards on them that led to it.

I loved it because it looked awesome, because my man built it with his own hands, because I got to watch him do that and because, with it being there, it was easier to forget how the old one ceased to be.

And last, because Gray and I had broken in the hayloft by repeating history, kind of, as this time, he got his own treat.

It was awesome.

The peach crop came in and Gray taught me to hire and I helped him manage the dozen workers who worked right alongside Gray and me. It was mindless work, hours of it, but with the smell of peaches all around, the summer sun kissing your skin at times, the shade of the trees offering relief at others and cheerful banter (though most of it was in Spanish, a language I didn’t know, still, it was cheerful), there were worse things to do. Gray had replanted the lost trees but it would be awhile before they bore fruit and his new growth also wasn’t there. Still, his crop earned a load, so much I was surprised. Then again, he had a huge orchard so I supposed I shouldn’t be.

It was fun when it began but I was happy when it was over.

Gray contacted the Bureau of Land Management who manages the wild mustang herds and he adopted ten more mustangs.

Yes, ten, putting our number over twenty straight to twenty-three.

Shim, Roan and Whit went with him to go get them and they all worked to help him break them and train them. It was fascinating and slightly scary to sit on our porch swing, eyes pointed to the corral where the boys did this. But if I didn’t know already, what with watching my man jump bareback on a horse and control the thing without any reins, this proved irrevocably he was all cowboy mostly because he got thrown often (the scary part), didn’t seem to mind a bit and the best part, he wore chaps.

No joke.

Chaps.

It.

Was.

Hot.

Seriously.

Until I saw Gray wearing them, I would have told you I was not a girl to get turned on by a man in chaps.

Then I saw Gray wearing them.

Suffice it to say, after day one of watching Gray working the horses wearing chaps, I didn’t care he’d spent hours being bucked off the backs of those beings. That night, I worked Gray and it was clear he didn’t mind being ridden hard after a day of riding.

He didn’t mind it a bit.

After the Brothers Cody got their shit together and got their asses to the retirement home, saw their Mom, the state she was in but the care she was being given, Gray got a welcome surprise and that surprise was not prompted by me (directly, unless, of course, you counted my rant).

This started with Olly who was clearly driven to do it by Macy and I knew this because her eyes mentally whipped his ass straight into our kitchen where he presented Gray with a check for fifty thousand dollars. It wasn’t what I thought he owed but it was something. Frank followed a week later with the same.

Charlie was still a holdout mainly because, in Frank’s words, “He’s a piss-ant. Always was, always will be.” Though I knew Olly, Frank and Macy were working him to do the same or at least offer something.

Gray took them and paid them directly on the note which more than halved what he owed. When my year was up on what I paid on the loan, we’d again face his hefty payment but it would take half as long to pay it off. Further, Frank informed Gray that if Grandma Miriam’s stay went beyond what I’d paid, the Brothers Cody would be seeing to it from there on in.

So that was all good.

And the other good was that there were no more fires, no more poisoned horses and no more diseased trees.

There was nothing, not from Buddy or Cecily.

Not just for Gray and me but for everyone in Mustang. Buddy and Cecily had their home outside Mustang but they lived their lives mostly in the next county and did their business in Elk. Gray and I had seen them and their daughters (who were very cute) at the cinema but other than that, I’d not seen them and others didn’t either. They didn’t go to Plack’s, the diner, The Rambler, The Alibi, Jenkins, Hayes, the pharmacy, nothing.

Courtney, too, had disappeared and she’d one-upped the Sharps by moving to Denver. When it all went down with Gray’s barn and then her participation was leaked by (my guess) Norrie, she’d been in the throes of a nasty divorce to a guy the town actually liked. He got the town, she, when everyone found out what a true bitch she was, got the hell out of it.

It would seem that having “horse murderer” painted on their house and threatening notes left on their doorstep did the trick for Buddy and Cecily.

I was breathing easier but Gray was not. He’d had this since junior high and he didn’t believe Buddy was going to go down at all. This didn’t mean that, as the days passed into weeks then months, he didn’t sleep easier but he was on the alert. He didn’t mind me going to town or to visit Grandma Miriam at the home by myself but it was rare he left me at the house alone and, when he did, it was when whatever business he had didn’t take him long. If it was going to, he took me.

I didn’t mind.

If it gave him peace of mind, what did I care?

That meant, him being in town that day for awhile was surprising, especially seeing as it was my birthday.

But it did give me the opportunity to take my time getting all done up.

Even though Jenkins was fancy for Mustang, it was not Vegas fancy. Still, I had on one of my dresses that I used to wear at Lash’s club. It was red with a deep dip that exposed most of my back, short spaghetti straps that held it up near to the points of my shoulders and it was short and clingy. I was wearing Lash’s rubies and a pair of strappy, red, high-heeled sandals with rhinestones (also from Lash). I had a lot of hair, a lot of makeup and several sprays of my favorite, and most expensive, perfume.

But regardless of Gray’s late afternoon absence, the day had been great. First, I started it with Gray. Second, he made me breakfast (chocolate chip pancakes and my man was a master at pancakes). Third, a FedEx package came with a pair of exquisite, eight hundred dollar designer pumps (a gift from Lash) and a bottle of the aforementioned expensive perfume (a gift from Brutus) which was followed by me talking to them on the phone (Lash, for an hour, Brutus for five minutes, not unusual, either of them).

Apparently, I’d continue to be stocked up on the finer things in life even when that life was on a ranch. I talked to them often, Lash several times a week. Brutus, less frequently but I checked in and so did he. I should have known they’d be generous, it was who they were and the loved me, but still, it was a pleasant surprise.

Their gifts were nice. They were sweet. And they were pure Lash and Brutus.

Janie had also popped by to give me a present that was from her, Danny, Gene, Barry and even Peg (yes, Peg, where she got her money, I had no clue but she’d given some to the present for me). It was a pair of fawn suede, kickass cowboy boots, the first pair I’d owned since going the way of the Vegas showgirl and better than any I’d ever had even when they were nearly all I used to wear.

I loved them.

And now I had Gray and Jenkins and then we’d be home and I’d just have Gray.

It was the best birthday ever.

And I didn’t know it, but it was about to get better.

I was screwing around in the kitchen, killing time waiting for Gray by getting the coffee ready so I could just flip the switch in the morning when I heard, “Told you, bears repeating, like that dress, dollface.”

I turned and saw Gray leaning shoulder to doorjamb wearing his dark blue suit. He also had on a light blue shirt that did great things for a tan he still had seeing as, even in October, he spent most of his time outside.

He looked beautiful.

“Thanks, baby,” I replied on a smile then I turned back and flipped the door to the coffeemaker closed.

Then I moved to approach him but stopped when Gray ordered, “Stay right there, Ivey.”

I blinked then I stared and when I did I noticed his gaze was intent and not the kind of intent that said he really liked my dress.

A different kind of intent.

An intent that made my heart beat faster.

I would know why when he told me casually, “Went to see my Mom today.”

My hand moved out to hold onto the counter but otherwise I didn’t move. It had been months since Norrie’s visit. Months. I steered clear of her for Gray (even though I wanted to get to know her) and Gray had steered clear of her for his own reasons that I let be.

Now, he’d gone to see her.

Wow.

Gray kept talking.

“She had somethin’ belongs to Codys, I wanted it back. We talked awhile. She’s comin’ to lunch on Sunday after church. That cool with you?”

Was that cool with me?

Was he crazy?

“Yes,” I forced out on a wheeze, shocked, pleased and cautiously happy because I couldn’t tell if Gray was or if he was doing this for me.

Gray said no more.

I didn’t either nor did I move and I also found it hard to breathe.

Finally, he spoke and when he did, it was to whisper, “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Oh God.

My belly melted.

“Gray,” I whispered back.

“In that getup, in your jeans and tees, in your bikini on the lawnmower, when I open my eyes in the morning and see you next to me, anytime I see you, that’s what I think. First thing that comes to mind. Anytime. Every time.”

I swallowed, held onto the counter and said nothing; just let his words rush warm and sweet through me.

Then he gave me, a woman who once had nothing but a bag full of stuff, not much of it good, but who, standing there in that kitchen thought she had everything, the world.

“I love you, Ivey, and you got a name you gave yourself that means somethin’ to you but I still want you to take mine.”

Oh God.

Oh God.

Oh God.

Tears filled my eyes.

“You want that, baby?” he whispered.

Instantly, unable to speak, I nodded.

And just as instantly, he walked across the kitchen and when he arrived at me, he took my left hand, lifted it and slid an old-fashioned diamond ring on my ring finger. It was large, a rounded off, wide rectangle surrounded by smaller diamonds all of this on a simple, thin white gold band.

It was old. It was Cody. It was beautiful. It was perfect.

“My Mom wore that ring. My Gran wore it too. And so did my great-Gran. Took it to Lazar’s in town, they cleaned it, said it’s in good repair,” he muttered, finishing, “and it fits.”

It did. And thank God it did because I was never taking it off.

Not ever.

Except, of course, when he slid on the wedding band that would go under it.

His fingers folded around mine and he lifted my hand to his mouth, bending his neck and touching his lips to my finger above the ring while I watched, a tear sliding down my cheek.

Then he pulled my hand to his chest and flattened it there.

“It’s old, darlin’, not new, not fancy but there it is.” His thumb tweaked my ring. “Happy birthday.”

I ripped my hand from his and threw my arms around his shoulders. Then I went up on tiptoe as the fingers of one hand drove into his hair pulling his head down to me and I kissed him. It was wet and not just because my tongue danced with his but because my tears slid to our lips.

We made out in the kitchen for a long time before Gray finally raised his head but rested his forehead to mine and he whispered, “Say you love me, Ivey.”

“I love you, Gray. I really, really love you, baby.”

He grinned and his arm gave me a squeeze.

Then he let me go but grabbed my hand and, as he dragged me to the kitchen door, he ordered, “Now quit bawlin’. I’m hungry and we don’t have time for you to fix your face.”

Since I had no choice (but wouldn’t chose differently), I hurried after him as he took his long-legged strides toward the front door, my free hand dashing at my face and deep breathing to control the tears. Gray stopped us at the hall tree and helped me put on my coat. I nabbed my purse. Then he grabbed my hand again and dragged me out the door to his pickup where he put me, in my expensive shoes and a dress that cost a small fortune, to take me into town for my birthday dinner.

And as we were underway, even though night had fallen, I noticed that the detritus scattering the floor of the old girl had accumulated again.

It was time to clean out Gray’s truck.

And on this thought, my one hand in my other, my thumb moving over the hard diamond, I looked out the windshield and smiled.