“Not too much,” Barb warned. “Just enough to wash the flavor out. Here.” She thrust the next set of spoons at them. “Raspberry with chocolate swirl.”
They worked down the line of flavors with slow, methodical precision. Michelle had something to say about each flavor,and he simply enjoyed being with her in an environment that didn’t cause either of them stress. Her favorite flavor used to be pistachio. He kept a close eye on her with every flavor, and other than the commentary, she seemed perfectly content not to pick a favorite at all.
Barb entertained them with stories, causing Michelle to laugh so hard that she dropped her spoon. He bent to pick it up, and they almost cracked their heads together, which made her laugh even harder while joking about being part of some romcom.
Hearing her laugh twisted his insides. He longed to hear that sound forever, to wake up each morning and see her, speak to her, laugh with her.
God, I’m not sure how much more of this torture I can take. I promised to help her without any hope of reconciliation or another chance for a future. But I didn’t expect I’d still love her this much.
He should have known. Once he settled on something, his heart and his mind stayed rooted and grounded…forever. He tried every flavor of ice cream because she wanted him to, but in the end, Rocky Road still won.
A soft hand smacked against his forearm when he declared his winner. “Are you sure you even tasted them all?”
“You watched me.” His stomach turned over when she kept her hand on his arm.
“Yeah, but did youtastethem, or did you tolerate them while commanding your taste buds not to change their mind?” She licked her spoonful of pistachio, turned it over, and frowned. “I need a couple scoops of that.”
“Found your favorite?” He ignored the rush of relief that one more thing about her was the same. People were allowed to grow and change. It shouldn’t make a difference if she preferredvanilla or the most absurd flavor known to man. He preferred predictability.
Michelle had wanted challenges and excitement. He saw the things he’d missed when they were younger. Her desire to stretch her wings and find new things to try wasn’t new. He told himself back then that he’d be enough for her, that things would settle down over time.
It wasn’t until this moment, with her in front of him and years of her life ripped from her, that he realized all he’d ever done was hold her back.
The scrape of a bowl on glass shocked him from the revelation. He backed up a step, then another. “I’m going to get the truck. Be right back.” It was rude and inexcusable, but he couldn’t face her when everything he thought he knew about their relationship lay scattered around his heart.
Promising to help her had new depth. She had every right to return to that spontaneous woman who looked at every challenge like it was tailor-made for her to beat. This version had a solemnness that he had attributed to them both growing older. What if it was nothing more than Michelle losing that part of herself to her amnesia? Once she had that back, she’d leave him again.
Better for him if he kept to his silent promise, refusing to let his heart fall in love.
Easier said than done. He’d survived her leaving once. He could do it again. This time he knew the outcome and had a chance to harden his emotions against the trauma coming his way.
Chapter Eight
Over a week later, Michelle still had no idea what had driven Chase from the ice cream shop. He’d taken off with enough speed that Barb commented he looked like a man whose pants had caught fire.
She’d cut her time at the ranch short the last few days when things felt too strange and tense between them. Their time in town created a new memory she’d cherish forever, and she was glad that he’d been part of it. Was that what bothered him? She started to ask a dozen times, but the hard lines in his face and the chill in his eyes had returned. Both created a wall she struggled to understand. Weren’t they past this hot and cold business where he felt like a friend one day and a stranger the next?
“Does my being here bother you?” She’d shown up at the ranch at dawn the Friday after their ice cream ordeal, with the full intention of clearing the air. Sleepless nights caused by a lack of communication, or whatever this was, made her irritable. And she’d learned one thing for certain. Irritable Michelle wasn’t afraid to ask hard questions.
Chase stopped mid-step. His spine straightened, a flash of something dark in his brown eyes, and then he resumed his pathto the next stall and dumped the final bucket of feed. “No. Why should it?”
“Because you’re avoiding me like I have lice.” She scratched her head and pretended to pick something from the strands. “No lice. Just hay.”
His lips twitched. “How am I avoiding you? We’re here together.”
“By not talking to me.” She shrugged when he grunted. “Come on. You’ve never been this somber. A whole week without a smile or a smart remark. It has to be a record.”
“It isn’t.” A world of hurt shivered through those two words.
A second passed before she remembered that he’d lost his dad. “Sorry. That was inconsiderate. Of course, you’ve had times when you want to be left alone.” She didn’t remember her parents’ passing, and Sarah assured her it happened a long time ago. She grieved the loss of them all over again, grieved the loss of memories and the family she surely loved.
“Hey, boss.” One of the cowboys stopped outside the barn. “Found a broken fence on our way back in. East pasture, down by the pond.”
“Thanks, Bill. I’ll go fix it.”
Was it her or did he look relieved to get away from her? Well, too bad, cowboy. She wasn’t that easy to shake. Maybe her old personality let things like this go, but she’d found a tenaciousness in the weeks since coming to Blue River. “I’ll come with you.” She patted her back pocket, searching for the work gloves, and followed Chase. “Are you riding or driving?”
“Driving. Hard to carry fence materials on horseback.”
