Page 62 of Careless Hope
“I’ll be right down!” I called out the window as Walker got out of the truck.
“Take your time,” he called back, that lopsided grin working hard this morning. Ugh.
I hurriedly got ready, thankful to my past self for showering last night before bed. I dressed in my favorite green and pink floral sundress, slipped on a pair of strappy sandals, and threw my hair up into a bun. As I put on some mascara and lip gloss, my mind raced in a whirl of conflicting emotions. I was excited to spend time with him, but my heart wanted to hide.
Stepping out onto the porch a couple minutes later, I saw Walker leaning against his truck, looking as effortlessly attractive as ever in his worn jeans, a gray t-shirt that hugged his chest just right, and an old, but clean, brown cowboy hat shading his eyes. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” he drawled with a lopsided grin, pushing off the truck to meet me at the stairs. He leaned in and kissed my cheek, lingering a moment. I felt my breath catch and wondered if he heard it.
“Ready for our little outing?”
I smiled back, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest. “Absolutely. Let’s go before all the good apricots are gone,” I teased.
As we walked toward his truck, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, noting the way his muscles shifted under his shirt as he moved. The familiar scent of leather and hay mixed with his cologne enveloped me, and I fought to keep my thoughts in check.
We rode in companionable silence, the gentle rumble of Walker’s truck and the occasional hum of the tires against the road providing a comfortable backdrop. The sun was beginning to climb higher in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the town as we pulled up to the farmer’s market held in the Methodist Church’s parking lot.
I could feel the curious gazes of townsfolk on us as we strolled through the bustling market, their whispers like a distant buzz in my ears. Walker’s easy charm and relaxed demeanor drew people to him like moths to a flame, but it was the subtle way he always made sure I was by his side that tugged at my heart.
He grabbed my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine in a way that felt as natural as the sunlight hitting our faces. But the thrill it gave me was all too foreign.
We stopped at Marge’s homemade pie stand, where she greeted us with a wide smile and a twinkle in her eye. Her knowing look as she handed us a box of strawberry rhubarb pie only added to my internal turmoil. It seemed like everyone in Whittier Falls was waiting for something to happen between Walker and me, even though I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to happen myself.
Oh sure, I could privately admit that I was falling for him. But the reality of that? How could I tell him? How could I expect anything other than a kind let down and a broken heart?
As we meandered through the market, my attention keptdrifting back to Walker. His easy conversation with the vendors, the way he’d offer a kind smile to a little girl admiring his cowboy boots, the carefree laugh that rumbled from his chest when an elderly gentleman shared a joke. It was all so effortless for him. But for me, the morning felt like navigating a minefield of emotions I couldn’t quite decipher.
After sampling some fresh apricots and chatting with Sutton for a while, Walker led me out of the church parking lot and down the street.
We made our way to the brunch spot, Cafe Mocha, on Main Street. It was known for its fluffy pancakes and strong coffee and as Walker pulled the door open and ushered me inside, the smell of maple syrup and bacon delighted me.
But nothing could stop my mind from being a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. The usual banter between us felt like a shield; a barrier keeping me from confronting the true nature of my feelings.
Despite my inner turmoil, it seemed like Walker was having the time of his life, regaling me with stories of his latest misadventures on the ranch. His laughter filled the air, infectious and carefree, but beneath it all lurked a sense of longing that I couldn’t quite place.
Once we were seated in a cozy table by the window, Walker ordered us both a round of pancakes and leaned back, his gaze fixed on me. The intensity in his light blue eyes sent a shiver down my spine.
“Small towns have big mouths,” he said, a touch of humor failing to mask the tension in his voice. “Heard you’ve been turning heads—and turning down dates.”
I crossed my arms, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “News travels fast, huh?”
“Like wildfire.” He finally met my gaze, and therewas something new dancing behind those baby blues, something akin to agitation. “I uh, I know that this whole education thing was supposed to help you with that.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just let him continue.
“But the other part of the arrangement is preventing you from following through. I just wanted to say, I appreciate you doin’ this for me. And it won’t be forever.”
I supposed I should have been relieved, but it was a punch to the gut. I didn’t know what I expected him to say, but it wasn’t that.
“Oh, that’s fine,” I said, trying to sound unbothered. “It’s not like I expected to jump into anything right away.”
“Right.” He nodded. “Still . . . I wanted you to know it means a lot. Gray has finally let up with some stuff. Seems like he’s trustin’ me more. It feels . . . good.”
“I’m so glad for that, Walker.” And I was. The goal to make him seem more responsible and settled was coming to fruition. And as his friend, I couldn’t be upset about that. I only wanted good things for him, even if my own feelings had to be pushed aside.
I lingered by the window long after Walker’s truck drove away after he dropped me back at home. The afternoon sun drenched the room in a golden haze, dust motes dancing like tiny cowpokes at a hoedown. I should’ve been thinking about the pile of medical journals I’d been neglecting, or even jumping into a new romance book I’d ordered online. But my mind was stuck on Walker.
The silence in the house seemed to magnify every small sound—the clock ticking over the mantle, the refrigeratorhumming from the kitchen, the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards beneath my feet. It was as if the space between us had taken on a life of its own, filling up with all the words we hadn’t said.
