Page 35 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

Leni

"Let me get this straight," Steph says to me over the rim of a coffee mug a few days later. "You and your estranged husband tainted the waters of Maple Pond, and he did it willingly?"

I nearly choke on the blackberry pecan scone I'm chewing, and have to cover my mouth to keep from spraying it across the cafe table at her.

I shake my head, eyes wide, mirroring Steph's expression, and hurry to swallow.

So much to address in that one sentence.

I don't like Holden being described as estranged.

Sure, a few weeks ago I maybe would have categorized it that way, but things are different now.

Is there a place between together and estranged?

A middle state? Middling associates? Buffer zoned?

I forget trying to explain the nuance to my sister and instead say, "Oh my gosh, Steph, nothing was tainted."

She blinks her brown eyes slowly, exaggerating the movement. "But he was willing? Because I'm having a real hard time picturing that."

"Stop trying to picture Holden at all," I huff. "We're doing that Buck-It List thing, remember. "

She takes a drink of her coffee, watching my face. "Because your kids begged you to."

I start to respond that, yes, my children are the reason, but the words stick in my throat.

I take a sip of the chai in my cup and Steph watches me with that same laser stare she's been using for the past ten minutes.

Why did I invite her out this morning? I should have used this precious time while Mason is at swim practice and Josi is at her swim lessons to go on a jog.

Instead, I'm sitting in the Summit Sage Cafe being interrogated by my skeptical sibling while wondering how we managed to dress alike this morning, yet again.

It happens too often. Today we're both in rust-colored sleeveless tops and jean shorts with our hair pulled up in a high ponytail.

No wonder we're so often asked if we're twins.

"I miss Tina," I say, referring to our older sister who's never around and never cared to be. She's six years older than Steph, and I think it broke her heart to no longer be an only child. The comment is a light-hearted dig meant to get Steph to back off. "She'd never push into my business."

Steph scoffs. "Does Tina even know you have children?"

I grin. "Not sure."

"Exactly. She wouldn't care enough to ask the hard questions. Like, does Holden have the shoulder muscles I think he does?"

This time I do choke, both from her question and from the undeniable yes I almost said out loud. He does. Shoulders for days.

"He's your brother-in-law," I manage.

She smirks. "You didn't use to worry about that. When the two of you were dating you told me all about his finer attributes, to the point where I begged you to stop."

"I've matured."

"Mm-hmm. Because mature people sneak out to Maple Pond. "

I laugh. "Bet you've thought about doing it a time or two."

She nods and takes a forkful of the quiche she ordered. "Not only thought about, but done." She points her fork at me. "When I was sixteen."

"Well, I wrote the list when we were teens, so blame it on that."

She smiles. "You've ridden a mechanical bull, eaten pie, line danced, and skinny dipped. I'm almost afraid to ask what else is on the list."

"A tandem bicycle ride through town . . ." My cheek twitches as I debate adding in the last, super cringe-inducing second part. "Playing a song on a speaker."

"What song?" she asks with a cheek twitch of her own.

"'Endless Love' by Diana Ross and Lionel Richie." I smack my lips and shake my head. What was I thinking?

"Yeah, you were definitely a teen. Are you going to do it?"

I take another sip of chai. "Mason won't rest until we do."

"Is that the only reason?"

I tap the side of my mug as I think on it. Initially, yes, we did the list because Mason was adamant that we do it, but now, I don't know. I can see how it's been helpful in getting us spending time together again, and talking more. So, yeah, I think I want to finish it, but not because we have to.

"Not anymore."

Steph sits back and pats her stomach before pushing her chair back. "Bathroom break. Don't go away."

Leave it to her to ask a probing question that gets me thinking and then dash off. I roll my eyes and nod, picking up my phone from beside my plate and shooting off a text to Holden.

Hey, do you think we should finish out the Buck-It List?

I'm pleased when his response comes in immediately. It reminds me of when we were dating and he'd text me all the time, like he was waiting for communication from me. It's as flattering now as it was then, I bite at my lips as I read his reply.

Holden

Yes

Not exactly eloquent, but it gets the job done and he didn't hesitate.

I think doing the list has been good.

Holden

I do too.

I kind of want to do it for us.

It's almost silly how brave it makes me feel to say that to the person who I should have been able to express vulnerable things to all along. I take it as a sign that we're in a better place, which gives me the courage to send another.

Not just for the kids.

Holden

Agreed. Isn't it the tandem bike one?

I smile, happy he remembers.

Yeah .

Holden

Okay. I'll take care of it.

My smile grows big and my chest feels buzzy at the thought of him handling it.

And you remember the part about the song?

Holden

Unfortunately.

Ha ha ha. Can't wait.

Movement to my side has me setting my phone down and looking up to see Birdie, the waitress from The Two Step, standing above me.

Her bright copper hair is in two braids down her back, and she's wearing an apron around her waist, over what I think are much nicer clothes than anyone else here is wearing.

Her jeans and blouse do not look like she purchased them at the local supply store like the rest of us do.

"I want some of whatever has you smiling like that," she says with a wide smile of her own.

"Birdie," I exclaim. "I wondered where you got off to. I tried texting you but never heard back."

She closes her eyes and opens them again slowly. "I'm so sorry. A lot happened recently."

I take a closer look at the apron and the logo on it. "You're working here now?"

She nods, and there's a brush of sadness before her eyes clear again. "Yeah. The Two Step didn't work out, but I was lucky enough to get hired on here last week. "

"Are you commuting, or have you been living in Pinehaven and I didn't realize it?"

"I didn't live here until last week." She makes a face and I can empathize with everything unspoken in that sentence.

"So . . . like you said, a lot has happened recently." I smile kindly, understanding how life can go off the rails.

"Yeah, going on month four of the epic unwanted, unplanned ride of a lifetime," she states, pulling at the apron ties around her waist. "I'm so sorry your text got forgotten in the mix. It wasn't on purpose."

I nod. "Not a problem."

"Anyhow, can I get you anything else? A refill on your tea or your sister's coffee?"

"Not right now, thanks, but would you be free for lunch soon? Or dinner if you work the day shift."

She bites at her glossy lips and consults a delicate bracelet watch on her wrist. "Actually, my break starts in five minutes. I could . . . I mean, if I'm not interrupting."

"You're not," I state, gesturing to an open seat next to me. "We'd love to have you."

This time her smile reaches her eyes and she nods as she heads to other tables to check in.

I watch her go, wondering how someone so obviously different from the locals has ended up here.

Everything about her says she's had a little more prosperity as a rule, but she's waiting tables in a tiny town in Utah, at a place where only locals really go.

We're not even one of the destinations for outdoor enthusiasts. It's a puzzle.

Steph breezes back into her seat and picks up her fork to go at her quiche again. "What did I miss? "

"Holden is going to take care of the last bucket list item, and Birdie works here now. Remember her from The Two Step?"

Steph smiles over a mouthful of food. "The sassy redhead who put Walker in his place twice? Sure do. Love her."

"Good, because I invited her to sit with us during her break." I fiddle with the tea sachet. "There's something about her that makes me think she could use a friend."

Steph's expression grows thoughtful and she washes her quiche down with what has to be cold coffee at this point.

"We could be her friend," she states. "As long as she's open to a matronly older woman and a married lady with no regard for public exposure laws."

A laugh bursts out of me. "You are not matronly in any sense of the word, and there will be no talk of me or Holden or our clothes."

"Or not clothes."

"Steph!" I hang my head in my hands and groan.

Her answering chuckle is drowned out by the sound of the chair next to me sliding out.

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting?" Birdie's soft, slightly southern voice joins us.

I look up at her. "I'm so glad you're here. This one," I point at my sister, "needs to be interrupted."

Birdie smiles as she sits down and places a wrapped sandwich on the table in front of her. "I used to wish I had siblings, but sometimes I think I'm lucky to be an only child."

Steph and I both laugh, and I say, "There are pros and cons. Today is heavy on the cons. "

Steph rolls her eyes. "So, Birdie, where are you from? Because it isn't Under the Notch," she says, referring to our area of Utah. "Not with those clothes and that accent."

Birdie's cheeks lift and she raises her eyebrows. "My clothes and accent make it that obvious, huh?" she replies, but it's in a light, teasing tone that says she's very aware of how she stands out.

I put a hand on her arm. "Steph is a wrecking ball."

Birdie pats my hand with one of hers and looks directly at my sister when we both let go. "I'm from Austin, Texas."