Page 25 of Her Cowboy Blind Date

After lunch, when Dad’s family left, Sam would spend a few hours working with Dad on the Chevy while Mom napped. He was worried about Mom. She worked long hours at the hospital and, in recent months, was more tired and exhausted during Sam’s regular Sunday lunch visits.

He bonded with Dad over vintage vehicles, a constructive common interest that didn’t bring them into conflict. Even on gloomy days, when it seemed like Dad’s anxiety and depression was winning, the prospect of working on one of his prized cars with Sam could help motivate Dad to get out of bed and do something that brought him joy.

Sam was restoring a ’68 Chevy that was garaged with his Cadillac Eldorado in a large shed in his back yard. He’d have less time to work on the Chevy now opening night was coming up. Rehearsals had already started, and he’d scheduled time to show Becky the ropes before their first full rehearsal.

Set moving was one of the easiest behind-the-scenes roles. The stage crew followed the same routine for each performance. They worked in pairs, or groups of four and six if they were moving larger props on and off the stage. Becky was smart, and she’d learn the routine by opening night.

Sam joined the coffee line. He needed more caffeine, and he’d take his coffee with him for the road. Small talk with acquaintances after the service was awkward and not his thing. Pete had quit inviting Sam out for lunch after church years ago. Sam had grown up with Sunday lunch being family time, and it was a habit he liked that had stuck firm.

If Sam was late for lunch, he’d add unnecessary stress to Mom’s day. His parents were complicated. He hadn’t realized how often he tiptoed on delicate eggshells around them until last year when they’d moved to another town.

Aunts, uncles, and cousins from Dad’s side of the family would descend for lunch. Mom should say no sometimes. Dad’s relatives had more time and energy than Mom to prepare lunch for a crowd. Dad didn’t help Mom with lunch, either. The earlier Sam arrived for lunch, the less burden Mom carried on her already weighed-down shoulders.

“Hey, Sam.”

He froze. Miley. He’d recognize her whiny nasal voice from the other side of the room. Except she wasn’t across the room. She stood behind him in the line. He was cornered. Worst luck.

He half-turned toward her, his mouth set in a thin line. “Miley.”

She giggled and curled a lock of blonde hair around her finger.

He glanced around the foyer. Where was Matt? When Sam had dated Miley in high school, he’d thought her hair curling move was cute. Now, he recognized it as a signal she wanted something.

“I heard you’ve RSVP’d a plus-one.”

He nodded. He’d emailed Emma’s family when he’d returned from the ranch. His initial relief that Becky had said yes had morphed into dread. Miley had an agenda, and he wasn’t interested in engaging with her childish games.

“Who’s this Becky girl?” Miley looked around. “Why isn’t she at church with you?”

“Becky is Cindy’s friend from college.” Facts. Truth. Transparent honesty was his best option.

“She must go to church somewhere. You only date church girls.”

Miley had been the only church girl he’d seriously dated. She’d strung him along for years in a long-distance relationship that had no future. He was the backup guy Miley had pulled out of her pocket when she needed him. During their relationship, her man radar had been on full beam, always scanning for a better offer. She’d found that better offer in Matt.

“What gives, Sam?” She batted her long and fake-looking eyelashes. “Cat got your tongue?”

He stared at the floor and moved a few steps forward in the line. The carpet needed cleaning. It looked like people spilled more coffee than they drank.

Could this line move any slower? He kept his focus on the front of the line. If he had the time, he’d pick up a coffee on his way out of town. Hightail it out of here, leaving Miley and this line in the dust.

He squared his shoulders, disappointed his cold shoulder hadn’t given Miley the hint. He turned toward her, prepared for the inevitable verbal sparring. “She goes to Cindy’s church.”

“Oh, really? Pete made it sound like you and this Becky girl were almost engaged.”

He gulped. What? Her red-tipped fingernail was on her mouth, dragging his gaze to her lips. No. He wasn’t playing her game. She was married, and they were in church.

Miley had no shame. She could be making up stories to get information. He’d told Pete and the guys on Monday night that the blind date had gone well. They’d teased Sam about the date and his weekend away at the ranch. Guy talk was surface talk, and they had boundaries. They didn’t talk about feelings like girls probably did.

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalantly while his mind raced for an appropriate response. “It’s early days.”

“This Becky girl really does exist.”

He clenched his fists. “Of course.” He turned his back on Miley and shuffled forward to the front of the line. How dare she accuse him of lying?

Guilty pinpricks pierced his conscience. He’d considered not correcting people who thought he and Becky were an item. He’d prayed about the Becky situation and changed his mind. Absolute honesty was the right choice.

Gilead was a small town with too many gossips. The sad truth was that even if he said he was only friends with Becky, the gossips like Mrs. Alleghany would run with their own version of events.

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