Page 31 of Careless Hope
“Chicken pot pie, it is,” I replied, shifting the truck into drive. The road stretched out before us, lined with the sleepy storefronts of Main Street that had watched over generations of townsfolk.
As we drove toward the diner, I found myself caught between the past and the future—the legacy of the Anderson family ranch pressing against the dreams I had for its expansion. My ideas seemed so possible when I let myself think about it without the weight of Gray’s disapproval hanging over me.
“Your plans for the ranch sound exciting,” Caroline said, as if reading my thoughts. “It’s important to have dreams, Walker.”
“Thanks, Caroline. It means a lot coming from you,” I admitted, stealing a glance her way. “You’ve built something pretty impressive yourself, taking over your father’s practice.”
“Hard work pays off,” she said, a touch of pride lacing her words. “But it’s not just about the work; it’s about the people you’re doing it for.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I said, the corner of my mouth lifting into a half-smile. Our eyes met for a moment, and there was a flicker of something—a shared understanding, perhaps.
Pulling into the diner’s parking lot, the warm glow of neon beckoned us inside. It was the kind of place where memories were made over plates of home-cooked meals, where laughter mingled with the clatter of cutlery. It felt right to be here with Caroline, even if it was all just for show.
“Ready to face the music?” I joked, cutting the engine.
“Lead the way, cowboy,” she replied with a grin that could outshine the diner’s neon sign any day.
I reached across the console to grab my hat, settling it on my head as we stepped into the twilight. Walking through the Whistle Stop Diner’s doors, the familiar jingle of the entry bell chimed like a welcoming committee. Marge, with her ever-present apron and a smile that seemed to crinkle her whole face, caught sight of us immediately.
“Evening, Walker! Caroline!” she called out, waving us over. “What a nice surprise, seeing you two out together,” she said with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “Got the perfect spot for you two right by the window.”
“Thanks, Marge,” I said, tipping my hat in her direction as we followed her past the counter lined with red vinyl stools.
“Oh, anytime,” she replied, chuckling, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.
We slid into the booth she’d pointed out, the one that gave us a clear view of Main Street, painted gold by the setting sun. The booths were empty around ours, giving a sense of privacy despite being in the heart of town.
“Nice view,” Caroline commented, glancing out at the quiet thoroughfare.
“Best in the house,” I agreed, relaxing back against the worn leather seat. The street outside was peaceful, but inside my chest, there was a sort of anticipation brewing—a strange mix of excitement and unease.
“Think anyone’s gonna buy it?” I asked, nodding toward the window. “Us, I mean.”
Caroline’s green eyes met mine, a flicker of vulnerability showing before she masked it with a soft laugh. “Well, it’ll certainly surprise folks. I’m pretty sure the last date I had in this town was to prom, and that was just Billy Brown doing my dad a favor.”
“Prom, huh?” I leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Guess I’ve got some big shoes to fill then.”
“Let’s just hope they’re not expecting a corsage and awkward slow dancing,” she quipped, tucking a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear.
I chuckled, the sound feeling more genuine than I’d expected. “I think we can manage to skip that part. Just gotta keep it natural, act like we’ve done this a hundred times.”
“Natural,” she repeated, mulling over the word. “Right. Because pretending to date the town playboy is the most natural thing in the world for me.”
“Hey now, who says you’re still that shy girl from high school?” I teased. “And for the record, I’m not that same guyeither. We’ve both got responsibilities now—more than just ourselves to think about.”
“True,” Caroline conceded, her gaze steady. “You haven’t really been showcasing any of that wild streak lately. Guess it isn’t really conducive to hard work and legacy.”
“Exactly.” Nodding, I felt a certain pride swell in my chest that at least someone had noticed a difference in me. This wasn’t just about proving something to the townsfolk or to my brother and mom. It was also about showing myself that I could be someone worthy of respect, someone who could take on a legacy and not just coast along.
“Besides, we’re not really lying,” I added, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I mean, we are here together, aren’t we? Having dinner, enjoying each other’s company . . . ”
“Creating a little suspense for our fellow diners,” Caroline finished, a playful glint in her eye.
“Exactly,” I echoed once more, grinning despite the odd tightness in my chest. “Let’s give ‘em something to talk about.”
Marge came over with her pad in hand, the click of her pen punctuating the comfortable hum of the diner. “What can I get for you two tonight?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.
“Evening, Marge,” I greeted, scanning the menu even though I already knew it by heart. “I’ll have chicken fried steak, and Caroline will take the chicken pot pie, right?”
