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“Here are a few to get you started.Horses of Mythology,Horses: Folklore, fairy tales and in-between. You can scan this area and there may be a few others hidden away.”
His smile of gratitude made my legs wobble, so I quickly hurried away. I had just made it back to the shelf I’d been working on when Eugenia’s pinched, spectacled eyes met mine. In a breathy whisper, she said, “Oh my, is that what the boys look like where you’re from, Callie?” she began to fan herself with a notebook.
I laughed and rolled my eyes... Eugenia might have been old enough to be my grandmother, but the woman had a healthy appetite for good-looking men. She was always looking overG.Q magazine, andSports Illustrated, commenting on one hot guy or another, or regaling me with tales of her torrid affairs.
“Uh, I would love to say yes, but the similarity ends with the boots and blue-jeans. The boys back home did NOT look quite like that.”
We were whispering, and although most of the time Eugenia was a shrew, it was times like this when I liked her best. Her wrinkled face was so bright, so excited at the prospect of this ultra-sexy cowboy, she reminded me of a child who just got the biggest lollipop they’d ever seen.
Eugenia lifted her eyes to mine, and grinned. “You should go over there, flirt with him, maybe land yourself a date.” She was fanning herself with gusto now.
I laughed softly. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, look at him. He’s probably got eight super-model pretty girlfriends already.”
Eugenia frowned at me. “Callie,Iwas a model, and I’m telling you, you are stunning.”
I sighed. “Thank you, but even if my face is pretty, I’m not exactly a size zero, or two, or even five!”
Eugenia scanned me from head to toe, her brows drawing together in a frown, her lips pursing. “No, I suppose you’re not, but I’ve always thought you had a lovely body, and surely a man like that would appreciate curves anyway. I always thought country boys liked curvy women.”
I sighed and laughed simultaneously. “Gee, I sure wish they did, Eugenia. Would’ve made my life a whole lot better.”
Eugenia studied me a moment, then shrugged. “You’re better off. When I was young, I hated being pretty and thin. I never knew when a guy was sincere, and when they were only interested in getting down my pants because I was a model.” She stalked off, peeking around shelves, trying to get one more look at the hot cowboy. I couldn’t help but smile. She was like a child in a candy store.
A half hour later, I was so immersed in arranging books, I didn’t even notice when the hottie in blue jeans stepped up behind me. I was humming, as I often did when I worked, which would have been embarrassing enough, except that I was bent over, trying to reach a book that was shoved under the shelf-my backside sticking up in the air like a duck in water-when I heard him clear his throat. I froze, then hurried to stand up, hiding my too large ass from his view, feeling the blush I knew was probably creeping up my cheeks.
“Sorry to interrupt you, ma’am, but I’ve picked a few books I wanted to purchase.” There was a smile lurking in his golden eyes, they crinkled just a bit at the edges and one side of his mouth was pulled up slightly at the corner in the most attractively crooked grin I’d ever seen.
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Sure, sure, no problem.” I was an idiot. I scurried to the little booth we had set up as the checkout stand, took the books from him and quickly rang him up, avoiding eye contact.
“All right, sir, that’ll be fourteen dollars and thirty-five cents.” I had to look at him to take the money, and that turned into a mistake. As soon as I did, I got that weak in the knees sensation again, but that was nothing compared to what happened when he placed the money in my hand, his fingers sliding across the sensitive skin of my palm. Electricity sizzled through my hand, spiraling through my arm and zipping through my nervous system. My breath caught, and my eyes snapped to his. He was watching me with an intense look, and I tried to recover myself, pulling my gaze from his and quickly going through the motions of finishing the transaction. My heart was pounding, and my stomach had butterflies trying to break free.
I thanked him, and told him to come again, then I watched the most beautiful male backside in the world walk out of the store. Once the door clicked closed, I face planted into the counter beside the cash register, and I berated myself. I wasn’t some twelve-year-old girl who couldn’t handle herself around cute boys, so why was I acting so damn stupid. The bells on the door jingled, and I righted myself, ready to face another customer, when Mr. Hottie cowboy peeked his head back inside, his eyes taking in my stance, as if my life wasn’t bad enough.
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to ask your name.” Did his eyes seriously sparkle like gems, or was it just me? Shaking off the thought I tried to focus.
Clearing my throat nervously, I replied, “Callie. My name’s Callie.”
His lips did that damn crooked smile thing again, the one that made my legs wobble and my heart flip. “Callie. That’s an interesting name. Like California?”
I stared at him for a moment, trying to come up with something intelligent. There was no way in hell I was going to tell him the real meaning of my name. “Uh, yeah like that I guess.”
He smiled fully, a dazzling smile where the friendliness and humor reached all the way to those wonderful warm eyes, before saying, “Cool. Well, Callie, maybe I’ll see you around sometime.” And then he was gone.
2
Sorting through the mess in the bookstore, I picked up a pile of neatly stacked books, hardly paying any attention to the titles, when the stack shifted, and half of it tumbled from my arms. Cursing under my breath, I kneeled down to restack the books, when one book caught my attention. Its cover had the look of a fantasy novel, but its size hinted at an informational picture book. Piqued, I opened the book, looking at the picture on the first page. A man was looking out, with his hand on the shoulder of a horse who stood calmly next to him. The book was called, The art of horse whispering.My heart skipped a beat as I read the title. I wanted to shove the book back into the pile, as far away from me as possible, but I couldn’t seem to stop looking.
The store was deserted, it being early on a Wednesday morning, so I sat down on the worn carpet, and continued to leaf through the pages. Pictures of the same man working with horses in various ways adorned every few pages, and I wasn’t sure why I was so drawn into this book, as it was similar to many others I’d already read. I was about to close the book when an enlarged quote jumped out at me. “There is a magic to the language of the horse, a certain communication that very few trainers ever truly hear.” The sentence struck a chord in me, my heartbeat sped up and my mind wondered all sorts of questions.
I couldn’t help but wonder what this guy knew. Did he also hear…no. Shaking my head, I was annoyed with myself. Standing, I yanked my cart closer, stacking the books on top of it. I had left all of that behind for a reason. I didn’t need to read some silly horse whispering book. I knew what that road would bring me, and I didn’t want to be depressed all over again. I didn’t want to wonder what if, and most of all, I didn’t want to feel the pain and the longing that was my constant companion. Pushing the cart toward the area where the books needed to be restocked in the correct area, I remembered the good-looking cowboy who had visited the store earlier in the week. My heart stuttered just thinking about his topaz eyes and sexy grin.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time this week my thoughts had strayed to him, and that fact only added to my low mood. The bell at the door chimed right as the telephone began ringing, and I hurried over to the counter, calling out to the visitor as I scrambled for the phone. “Welcome to Bindings, be right with you.”
Picking up the old-fashioned phone which still had the curly cord attached to it, I said, “Good morning, Bindings Book Store, how may I help you?”
The other line sizzled with static before an all too familiar voice screeched, “Calamity Jane Hamlyn! Do you have any idea how long it’s been since you’ve called me?”
I winced at the ire in my mother’s voice. “Uh, mom, you’re not supposed to call me here at work. I have customers….”
