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“I’ve never lost anyone close,” Vivian admitted, feeling once again on the sidelines looking in. Here Gretta and Nash had both lost the most important people in their lives, and she couldn’t relate one bit.
Extending her hand across the table, Gretta covered Vivian’s. “Don’t feel bad. Be glad you don’t know the pain of death. It’ll strike us all one day, but the longer it takes, the better.”
Vivian nodded. It wasn’t that she wanted to lose anyone she cared about, but she felt guilty realizing that she might not miss the people she was connected to in life as much as she should. Anytime she reflected on it, she was filled with emptiness because none of the relationships she had, even with her own parents, were very deep. It was all superficial, a responsibility to one another to be sure everyone was taken care of and maintained the right look and property to keep up with their social circle. It had always been about appearances, for as long as Vivian could remember.
What it must feel like to truly love and be loved,she wondered.
Gretta lifted herself from her seat and carried her empty mug to the sink. “I think I’ll throw a bit of laundry in the wash and check on the tomatoes.”
“Do you want some help?” Vivian offered.
“No, no,” Gretta dismissed with a wave of her hand. “I can handle it on my own. You should go see if Nash wants any company, though. Lord knows the man could use a distraction or two. He’s too serious.”
Vivian wasn’t too sure about that suggestion. Although Nash had suddenly and unexpectedly warmed up a bit toward her, she still didn’t feel welcomed by him. To invite herself into his personal space and interrupt his time, especially with his beloved wife’s horse, seemed intrusive.
“I think I’ll find something else to do, thanks,” she said.
Gretta shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Vivian gave her a half-smile and headed toward the stairs and what she was coming to think of as her bedroom.
“Just remember, you can’t fall in love if you don’t put yourself out there,” Gretta called after her retreating form.
Vivian’s foot paused, hovering over the first step, her hand gripping the banister as those words hit home and sank in.
Was that what she wanted, what she was ultimately aiming for?
A look back at the open screen door revealed a beautiful, sunny day, the heat already clawing its way inside. She could go out there right now, find Nash riding in the field, and explore just how deep their connection might go.
But she’d never done such a thing, and being the aggressor was a terrifying thought. He’d likely laugh, and she’d return with egg on her face. It would be the deciding factor on her leaving, moving on. Because there was no way she’d be able to show her face around there again or look at his without feeling the sting of rejection.
No, Vivian wasn’t going to risk it. She’d already risked quite a lot in her decision to leave home and ending up here. Now she had a friend—maybe more than one—and she was comfortable. Why throw all that away on a whim?
Decided, but not at all satisfied, Vivian climbed the stairs and closed herself inside her bedroom. She’d read a bit, maybe take a nap, and then she’d head into town for some light dress shopping.
THIRTEEN
There was only one clothing shop on Main Street, and it had exactly what Vivian was looking for.
“That looks lovely on you, dear,” the clerk complimented as Vivian stepped out of the single dressing room and admired herself in the full-length mirror.
“Thank you.” Vivian swished the light, white cotton, loving the way the material floated around her knees. Itwasthe perfect dress. With the heat, she could breathe and still look pretty and fashionable.
“You know what would go great with that?” The clerk didn’t wait for her response. Turning, Vivian watched the woman walk toward a display of shoes and return with a pair of rustic brown, pre-distressed cowgirl boots with a delicate but feminine pattern.
“Boots?” Vivian asked the obvious as she reached out and accepted them. She’d never worn boots with…well, anything before. Unless they were knee-high and over a pair of skinny jeans. Otherwise, it was high heels and sandals, maybe a pair of mules or something, and they always served as the pop of color to her muted wardrobe.
“If you’re gonna live here,” the woman said with a mischievous smile as she glanced down at the royal blue heels she’d worn out that day, “then ya gotta own a pair of good boots.”
Vivian smiled at the woman. “Well, in that case, how can I say no?”
Lifting her chin proudly, she said, “You can’t! Now go try those on.”
“Oh, I didn’t even check if they’re my size,” Vivian said, flipping them over to view the imprinted number on the soles, only to find they were exactly right.
“I took the liberty of sneaking your heels out from under the curtain while you were changin’,” the woman admitted, unabashed.
“Oh, wow, um, okay.” Vivian stepped down out of her heels and pushed her bare feet into the boots one by one, surprised at how comfortable they were, then she returned to the mirror to take a look at herself.
