“What are these for?” Rhonda asks as she thumbs through the pants I grabbed from Riggs’s suitcase.
“I’m going to alter them. We should be able to close for lunch today, right? Business is certainly slow enough.”
She sets the pants on the table and begins folding them neatly. “I don’t see why not, but why?”
“Riggs is going to take us to lunch.”
She stops what she’s doing and turns to me with narrowed eyes. “You mean he’s going to takeyouto lunch.”
“Yes, but I want you to come.”
She resumes folding. “I could go for some pizza.”
“I was thinking The Fool’s Grill. He had the Duck Duck Goose and mentioned he wants to try everything while he’s here.”
“You know I love their quail pot pie,” she says.
Done folding, she takes a seat at the table while I put two both blueberry muffins in the microwave then retrieve the large tub of butter Ms. Southerby always keeps in the fridge. When I join her with the warm muffins, she cuts one in half and lathers a healthy amount of butter on both sides, which is unusual for her. Usually she watches what she eats to keep the figure she’s so proud of.
“What? This is obviously a cheat day,” she says when I raise a brow.
Before I can respond, her phone pings. She sets her muffin down to read the text, and a wide smile appears before she screams. “Ash is coming!”
I’m so happy for her. “That’s great!”
But her excitement is quickly replaced with an unexpected look of concern written across her face. She sets her phone down and stares at it for a moment before turning her attention to me. “Now that you’re with Riggs, do you think about it?”
Knowing exactly what she means, I inhale a deep breath reluctant to talk about it. “The part where he’s leaving in two weeks and will be gone for three months, or the part where he keeps leaving for three months after that?”
She nods with a sadness I’m too familiar with. “What’s the matter with us? We know this is a bad idea, but we’re doing it anyway.”
I don’t know what to say, so we justsit here eating our muffins in silence. No amount of butter can make either of us feel better now.
“There has to be a way to make it work,” I mutter to myself. “There has to be. We just need to figure it out.”
Holding her coffee with both hands, she stares at the small plastic flower arrangement between us, lost in thought. “Yeah,” she says softly. “There must be.”
As hard as I try, nothing comes to mind, so for now, my only solution is to put my head in the sand and try not to think about it. I guess I’ll just have to see how it goes after he leaves. Maybe three months will fly by. Maybe, but somehow, I doubt it.
I know one thing for sure. Until he leaves, I’m going to try to make the most of the time we have together.
What else can I do?
CHAPTER 35
Riggs
This week has gone by way too fast.
The paperwork from Ash arrived Wednesday morning. As promised, I had everything signed and notarized by that afternoon and sent it back to him by overnight mail.
On Thursday, I met with Maddie’s brothers at Zane Shackler’s ranch to finalize everything. Zane and Chelsea’s property was gorgeous. If I ever get a chance to buy a place like that, I won’t hesitate.
Josh, Keegan, Zane, and I sat in the Shacklers’ living room while Chelsea served us coffee and homemade chocolate-chip cookies hot out of the oven. I think they were the best cookies I’ve ever had. What is it with this small town and its cooking? It’s like everyone takes so much pride in what they make. It’s nice, a bit odd if you think about it, but admirable.
Anyway, Chelsea was beyond excited when I told her Ash was coming later. When I promised to bring him by, Zane offered to take all of us on a horseback tour of his ranch next week.
Keegan wanted Zane to sit in on the meeting. I wasn’tsure why, but I realized it was a good thing when I learned Zane helped with their business plan. At first, I thought maybe the cowboy wanted in on the deal, which would have been fine, but he said he was only helping out, “to be a good neighbor.” I’ve seen a lot of that kind of thing around Sweetbriar. People here are genuinely good that way.
