What She'd Do for Love. Cindi Myers
be so busy with, but another evasive answer would hurt too much, so she pushed her curiosity aside.
After breakfast, Christa washed the dishes, then took the list her mother gave her and headed to Cedar Grove. The town seemed somewhat more lively this morning, with cars parked in front of most of the businesses. Her first stop was the library, where Mrs. Franklin manned the front desk, as she had for most of Christa’s life. “I’ve got the books your mother requested right here,” Mrs. Franklin said. She slid the stack of volumes toward Christa and studied her over the tops of her half glasses. “Are you home to stay, or is this another quick visit?”
“I’ll be here for a few weeks. Maybe as long as a couple of months. I was laid off from my job in Houston.” She might as well admit it up front; it wouldn’t take long for the news to spread in a town the size of Cedar Grove.
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear. I can’t say you’ll find a lot of job opportunities in this neck of the woods, but if I learn of anyone hiring, I’ll let you know.”
Christa seriously doubted she’d find a position in town that would utilize her marketing degree, but she appreciated Mrs. Franklin’s concern. “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’m really here because I thought it would be nice to spend more time with my folks while I’m between jobs.”
“That’s good. I’m sure both your parents appreciate the help.” Mrs. Franklin tapped a few keys on her computer and studied the screen. “Your old library card is still good, so feel free to use it while you’re here. And we have a women’s book club that meets the second Thursday evening of every month. You should come.”
“Maybe I will. Thanks again.”
Next on the list was the Blue Bell Café, for a jar of Etta Mae Cook’s strawberry jam. “I thought Adele made all her own jam,” Etta Mae said, after she’d given Christa a hug and slipped the jar of jam into a brown paper sack.
“Maybe she didn’t have time this summer,” Christa said. “She said she’s been busy—too busy to even come to town with me today.”
“Well, you tell her I’m flattered to know she likes my jam so much. She should stop by for coffee and a chat next time she’s around.”
“I’ll tell her. Thank you.”
“And you should come back Friday morning. The Chamber of Commerce eats breakfast here and everyone is invited. They’re always looking for volunteers.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to be pretty busy updating my résumé and applying for jobs.”
“I hope you find one, honey. I wish Cedar Grove had more to offer young folks like you. Maybe this new highway will bring some new businesses and jobs with it.”
“But I thought the highway was going to bypass the town,” Christa said.
“Well, it is, dear. But there’s talk of development out by the highway, so I guess businesses will gradually move out that way. I’m hoping for the best.”
Christa wished she shared Etta Mae’s optimism. The highway project might just as well be the death knell for the little town she loved. “I guess I’d better see to these other errands.” She held up the list her mother had given her. “But I’ll be back soon for a piece of your wonderful pie and a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll save one for you.” Etta Mae winked, then turned to wait on the next customer.
By the time Christa walked into the Cedar Grove Bank an hour later, she was beginning to suspect that her mother had written her list with the goal of reacquainting Christa with as many familiar faces in town as possible, and luring her into all the clubs and activities. The teller, whose nameplate identified her as Traci, was a stranger to Christa, which was almost a relief. At least here, no one would feel obligated to invite her to join the gardening club or to volunteer with the 4H, as had happened at the Post Office and the Seed and Feed. “May I help you?” Traci asked.
“My mom sent me for paper coin sleeves,” Christa said. “I guess she has a bunch of change to roll.”
“Oh, sure.” The teller opened a drawer and took out a fistful of coin wrappers for pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters, and slid them across the counter to Christa. “Here you go. Anything else?”
She glanced at the sign that offered free checking. “I’m going to be here a little while,” she said. “Maybe a couple of months. Could I open an account for just that time? It would make banking easier.”
“Sure you can.” She looked past Christa to the young man who sat at the desk across from her. “Paul, can you help this customer with a new account?”
Christa recognized a boy who had been a couple grades ahead of her in school. So much for thinking she could come to the bank without seeing someone she knew. “Paul Raybourn, it’s good to see you,” she said.
“Christa. Great to see you.” She sat in the chair across from his desk and they spent a few minutes catching up. She learned Paul had married a classmate of hers, Didi Moffat, and they had a baby boy, Alex. She told him about her job loss and her plans to spend the summer at the ranch.
“After living in the city, the ranch is going to seem dull as dirt,” he said. “I predict in two weeks you’ll be dying for any excuse to get out of town.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “I liked Houston, but I’m a small-town girl at heart. After so much upheaval in my life lately, I’m looking forward to a stable, comfortable routine.”
“If you say so. I could do with a bit more excitement, myself.”
“I guess the new highway is going to bring a bit of excitement to town,” she said.
“It already has, what with folks taking sides over whether or not this project is a good thing for Cedar Grove.”
“And what do you think?” Christa asked.
“My view is, it’s already a done deal, so we might as well make the best of it.” He gave her the forms to complete to open a checking account and she was busy writing when Paul looked over her shoulder and said. “Hey, Ryder. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
She turned to see a good-looking, tall man striding across the bank. Dressed in pressed khakis and a sport coat, he stood out among the jeans and snap button shirts of most of the men. When he smiled, dimples formed on either side of his mouth. His sandy brown hair dipped low across his forehead, above a pair of deep blue eyes.
“Christa Montgomery, I’d like you to meet Ryder Oakes. Ryder’s staying in town for the summer, too.”
Christa rose and took Ryder’s offered hand. “Hello, Mr. Oakes.”
“Please, call me Ryder. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His voice was soft and deep. A caressing kind of voice.
Where had that thought come from? She wasn’t the type of woman who was easily bowled over by a handsome man—but she had to admit Ryder Oakes made her heart flutter a little. The thought almost made her laugh. Talk about bad timing. She needed to focus on finding a new job and getting her life back on track—the last thing she needed was the distraction of a romantic relationship.
“What brings you to town, Ryder?” she asked, determined to regain her composure.
“Work. My job takes me all over.”
“Ryder’s an engineer,” Paul offered. “He’s a University of Texas alum, like you.”
Too bad she’d never run into him on campus. He looked a few years older than her, tiny lines fanning out from the corners of those gorgeous eyes. She searched for some remark to keep the conversation going. “Traveling all the time must get old.”
“I grew up in a military family. My dad was in the army, so I’m used to moving a lot.”
“Christa’s family owns