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“Of course not,” Amy snapped, tired of people always bringing up her previous crush on Paul. “Paul’s the last person any girl in her right mind would get serious about.”

  “You used to think he was the best.”

  “C’mon, Shannon.” Amy glared at her friend, who winked playfully back.

  “Maybe you still do? Just a little bit?”

  Amy sighed.

  “Teeny bit?” Shannon persisted. “You are looking confused.”

  “If I am it’s not because of Paul.” Amy couldn’t seem to keep the defensive tone out of her voice.

  “Why then?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I’m your friend, Amy. I’ll listen. We’ve got hours together.”

  Amy was silent a minute, trying to gather her thoughts, the thrum of the engine the only noise in the car. “I don’t know, Shanny,” she said finally. “Things have been so out of sorts. Dad’s been talking about Mom. The ranch has been keeping me busy. My work has, too. I can’t do much with this shoulder—it hurts and it’s getting me down. I’ve been trying to save up some money to fix up the house with, and every time I get somewhere, Rick needs some more tools or bearings machined or something that puts a dent into the savings.” She paused, allowing herself a brief moment of self-pity. “I feel like everything’s getting dumped on me at once. I feel like people, including my best friend—” she took a moment to throw a meaningful glance at Shannon “—are all watching me to see if I’ll drop Tim and jump into Paul Henderson’s arms.”

  Shannon had the grace to look ashamed. “Sorry. I was just teasing.”

  “Well so is everyone else ‘just teasing.’ And I’m a little tired of it.”

  “Time for a subject change. Tell me more about your wedding. Have you got a dress yet? Have you taken any time away from your precious ranch to make any plans?”

  “And how’s Vancouver?” Judd leaned forward as he cleaned up the cards and cribbage game.

  “The company is expanding, and we’re busier than ever.” Paul took a quick sip from the coffee cup he held suspended above his spread knees. He hardly dared sit too far back in the decrepit chair that he had pulled closer to Judd’s.

  “You don’t sound happy about it.”

  Paul tipped his cup back and forth, watching the brown liquid swirl around the bottom, as he contemplated his answer. “I’ve got some big decisions to make, that’s all.”

  “What decisions?” Judd leaned back in his chair reaching for the remote control of the television. “Whether you should buy stocks or mutual funds?”

  Paul carefully placed his cup on the coffee table, ignoring Judd’s remark. “My partner wants me to buy him out.”

  Judd shook his head, a mocking tone in his voice. “And your business is making a profit. Tough decision.”

  Paul ignored his sarcasm. “It is, actually. It will mean more work.” Paul tried to keep his own voice even. He hadn’t come here to spend time with Judd, and only stayed as a favor to Amy.

  “Since when is a Henderson afraid of work? Your dad is still expanding. I hear he’s eyeing the Kincaid spread.”

  “He is.”

  “Still doesn’t have enough land?”

  Paul didn’t want to get drawn into Judd’s antagonism. As long as he could remember, Judd had borne an unspoken grudge against Paul’s father, resenting his success. Between Rick and Judd, it surprised Paul that Amy still held on to her friendship with his family. “He’s talking about selling our place and retiring at Kincaids’. It’s a little closer to town and the house is smaller.”

  “He should buy this place.” Judd looked around the room.

  “This would be small enough.”

  Paul didn’t reply, knowing anything he said would be superfluous.

  Judd leaned back and studied Paul. “You don’t like me do you, Paul?”

  Paul looked straight into Judd’s eyes, wishing he could say how he really felt, yet unable to because of his friendship with Amy. “It’s hard to like someone who keeps resenting my family and their success.”

  “Probably.” Judd looked away from Paul as if considering his next comment. “And, yes, I have resented your dad’s success. I worked my fingers to the bone on this place, got married and then my wife fools around….” He stared at the opposite wall, lost in another time. Then, with a shake, he looked back at Paul. “And your dad’s business keeps on growing, his ranch just brings in more money. It’s a little hard to take.”

  For Judd Danyluk, making an admission like that must have been like opening a vein, Paul thought. “I’m sure it would be,” he conceded.

  Judd glanced at the crutches leaning against the chair beside him. “I lost my wife, then I lost my leg, and trying to work this ranch has never made up for either.”

  Paul found himself at a loss for words. He had offered to stay with Judd only for Amy’s sake, and now he found himself almost feeling sorry for the old man.

  “Now Amy’s getting married,” Judd continued. “My little girl’s growing up.”

  “At least you won’t lose her,” Paul replied.

  “I suppose.” Judd scratched his chin, shaking his head. Then with a shrug, he dismissed the topic. “And what about you? Are you planning on marrying that class act you brought to Amy’s engagement party?”

  “Stacy and I haven’t fixed a date yet.”

  Judd snorted, pushing his chair upright with a creak. “You sound like Amy. She can’t make up her mind when to get married, either.”

  “Why is that?” Paul wanted to hear Judd’s opinion of the situation and maybe find out more about the man Amy had chosen.

  “She says she needs time to get everything in order. Before Tim moves here.”

  “You don’t sound too pleased about that. Don’t you want Tim living here?”

  “I don’t mind the idea. But Amy’s a stubborn perfectionist, and the ranch is a demanding taskmaster. She’ll never get things the way she wants, and she’ll just keep putting off the wedding.” Judd looked at Paul, his eyes narrowed. “She has someone good, and she shouldn’t lose him, thinking he’ll wait until the time is right. I don’t want him to resent this place like Noreen did.”

  Paul leaned forward, waiting. Judd had never been this forthcoming before, and never had he spoken of Noreen in other than disparaging tones.

  Judd only shifted in his chair, and without another comment lifted the remote control and turned on the television.

  He must have said too much, Paul thought tossing down the dregs of his coffee.

  Canned laughter, forced and phony, filled the room and Paul got up. A picture of Tim and Amy that hung on the wall between the kitchen and living room caught his eye. He stepped closer, studying it. Amy looked tense as Tim hugged her close, her eyes too wide, her smile too bright, and Tim, well, as far as Paul could see, Tim looked a bit too smug.

  Jealous.

  He examined the feeling that suddenly clutched him. Definitely jealousy. He couldn’t imagine Tim living here, either, he thought studying his face. Paul gave himself a mental shake. Amy had made her decision, and it wasn’t up to him to judge or question.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Judd, who sat frowning at the sitcom as it milked weary jokes and mocked life. He needed to get out.

  He suddenly remembered the pail sitting by the fence post when he first drove into the yard. He could do some fencing until Amy came back. The thought put a smile on his face.

  “I’m going out, Judd, do you need anything?”

  Judd shook his head without looking up.

  Paul shrugged, turned and walked out of the house. He’d be back in a while to check on Judd, meanwhile he could do something useful.

  The fencing tools were exactly where Amy had left them. Hands on his hips, Paul surveyed the fence that ran along the driveway then took a turn to follow the tree line. Half of the wires had come loose, some posts held no wire at all. Amy and Rick had their work cut out for them, if she planned to get them stapled up befor
e the cows came down from the summer pasture.

  He looked back at the cattle yard. They had replaced some of the rotten boards with new ones that gleamed white beside the weathered gray of the old wood of the corrals. Beyond them, the barn’s door hung at a crazy angle, held by a single hinge. Baled hay stood like forgotten boxes out in the fields. The Danyluks still used inefficient square bales which would have to be hauled by hand. But not by Amy. Her shoulder would put her out of commission for another week, minimum.

  Paul turned back to the fence and hefted the fencing pliers. He eyed the leather gloves that lay on the ground beside the pail. Too small. He’d have to work without them. He smiled, remembering countless hours tacking up wire while a younger Amy kept up a stream of chatter, handing him staples, her own hands bare.

  He carefully lifted a sharp staple from the bucket and pounded it into the shaky fence post, bemused at the raft of memories that accompanied this trip. The decision to buy out his partner, Bruce, seemed easy to make back in Vancouver, but now, his feelings weren’t clear on the matter. Being home, even for these few days, shifted his perspective. Stacy was supposed to be here with him, experiencing this, and now she was in Vancouver.

  And he didn’t even miss her.

  He gave a stubborn staple another whack, and it sank deep into the hardwood of the post. All four wires were now securely anchored. A sparrow sang somewhere off in the distance as he bent over to pick up the pail. He paused a moment, relishing the warm sun and the softness of the day. He pushed thoughts of Stacy and business to the back of his mind.

  As he moved along the fence line, the long grass rustling as he passed, a feeling of completeness welled up in him. Like putting on an old pair of boots worn to the shape of your feet, he felt like he belonged.

  Could he come back? Would he want to?

  His questions brought him back to Stacy. With a soft sigh Paul moved on to the next section of fence. He didn’t want to think about Stacy right now.

  Amy opened the door to the bank, cool air rushing over her as she stepped inside. Even though she had spent most of the day in an air-conditioned car, it felt unnatural to be shivering in short sleeves inside and sweltering outside.

  The drive to Prince George had gone quickly. Fortunately, she had met no RCMP on the highway. Paul’s car didn’t seem to care whether it went 110 kilometers per hour or 120. The extra speed gave her extra time. Enough extra time to stop on the way home and see Tim.

  “Hi, Amy.” The receptionist looked up with a smile. “Tim’s not busy, and he’ll be glad to see you.” She gestured with a pen towards his office.

  Tim sat hunched over a desk, tie loosened and coat hanging over the back of his chair. As she watched through the open door, he rubbed his head with a pencil, his forehead creased. Amy felt a thankful lift of her heart at the sight of her handsome fiancé.

  She tapped on the door. “Got a few thousand for a poor starving rancher?”

  He looked up, startled. Then grinned widely as he came around the desk toward her. He reached behind her, closed the door and gave her a careful hug. “Aren’t you a welcome sight?”

  Amy leaned her good shoulder against him, inhaling the fragrance of his clean shirt, the faint hint of aftershave. “I missed you.”

  “That’s good.” Tim tipped her face up to his and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, then stepped back, pulling up a chair for her. “What brings you to town?”

  “I had to pick up a part from Prince George. Shannon needed a ride there to pick up a car she bought.”

  “The old truck actually made that long trip?” Tim grinned at her, returning to his own chair.

  “C’mon. Matilda is perfectly capable of going cross Canada if she wants to.” Amy wrinkled her nose at him, trying not to feel disappointed that he put the desk between them so quickly. “But I didn’t have to. Paul Henderson loaned me his car.”

  Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “The snappy red number that was parked in front of his mom and dad’s? I’m surprised he trusted you with it.”

  Amy looked down at her hands, twisting her engagement ring around on her finger. She couldn’t quite figure out why his comment bothered her. “I’m not that bad a driver,” she said finally.

  “Of course you’re not. I didn’t mean that.” Tim pushed his pencil back and forth between his fingers. He looked up at her, his mouth crooked up in a half smile. “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  “So do you have to be back at the ranch right away?” Tim leaned back in his chair, twirling his pencil.

  “I should. I’ve got dozens of things to do. I just thought I’d stop in and say hi. Paul is staying with my dad. I shouldn’t leave him there too long. Dad isn’t a big Henderson fan.”

  Tim nodded his head and gave his pencil another twirl, watching it as if thinking. “Do you have time to go out for supper?”

  Amy hesitated.

  Tim leaned forward. “What? You don’t want to go out with me?”

  “No, no,” Amy shook her head. “It’s not that. I have to take Paul’s car back.” She forced a smile, torn between Paul’s generosity and the reality of her father’s personality. “Besides, I’m not dressed to go out,” she said, trying not to feel self-conscious about her faded blue jeans.

  “So we go to Tony’s. It’s a casual place.”

  “I don’t know if I should.”

  “Why don’t you phone Paul and ask if you can have the car a little longer?” Tim turned his phone around and pushed it toward her.

  Amy bit her lip, wondering at her own reluctance and Tim’s insistence. She felt uncomfortable about both.

  “We haven’t seen each other for a while,” he continued.

  Amy knew he was right, and, taking a deep breath she punched a free line and hit the numbers. The phone rang a few times, then a deep voice answered the phone.

  “Hi, Paul. How’s my dad?” Amy twisted the cord around her finger. “Really? That’s good. I was wondering if I can use the car a little longer. Tim wants to take me out for supper…. That’s okay then…? Thanks. Home by twelve…? I know it’s a weeknight. Don’t worry, I’ll be home earlier than that.” Amy looked up at Tim and smiled. Tim looked back at her, his face impassive. Amy untwisted the cord and rubbed her hand over her pants, aware that maybe the phone conversation had gone on a little too long. “Thanks, Paul. I’ll see you later.”

  She dropped the phone in the cradle meeting Tim’s guarded look. “I guess that’s all settled.”

  “Great.” Tim glanced at his watch and got up. “I’ve got a few minutes of work left and then I’m done.”

  “I’ve got to run down to Dilton’s garage. I’ll meet you at Tony’s.”

  Amy got up and picked up her purse. Tim waited for her, one hand on the open door. As she passed by him, she lifted her face for his customary peck on the cheek. Instead he pulled her close and kissed her full on the mouth. Amy stepped back, surprised, unconsciously glancing over her shoulder at the receptionist who stared at them, looking as shocked as Amy.

  “See you later,” he said with a tight smile.

  Before supper, Amy made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t think about the ranch or Rick or her father or any of the myriad tasks that loomed over her. She was just going to enjoy being with her handsome fiancé.

  They settled into a table, going through familiar motions. Tim always rearranged his silverware and moved his glass. Amy watched him and smiled, thinking how wonderful it was going to be to see him across the breakfast table each morning, the supper table each evening.

  “I think I’m going to like being married to you, Tim Enders,” she said, touching his hand as he fussed with the cloth napkin.

  “I think I’m going to like being married to you, too, Amy Danyluk.” He returned her smile. “But we have one small problem.”

  Amy frowned. “What?”

  He leaned forward with a teasing smile. “We haven’t set a wedding date yet, so you’re going to have to wait to be ma
rried to me until we pick one.”

  Amy looked down at her own napkin, pleating it carefully. It was easier to think about being married than the actual wedding. The cost scared her each time.

  “Amy, my mom has been phoning constantly about making plans, and I can’t even tell her what day.”

  “I guess because we’re engaged, that would be a natural progression,” she answered, returning his smile. “It’s just that Dad can’t afford much right now. We’ll need to get a mobile home on the yard for Dad and Rick. I don’t want them in the house with us.”

  “That’s a relief,” Tim laughed.

  “But that’s going to cost us money.”

  “Why do you keep worrying about that?” Tim grasped her hands, his brown eyes holding hers, his well-shaped lips quirked up in a grin. “I’ve told you before that Mom and Dad are willing to foot the bill for the wedding, and I’d sooner be humbly in debt to my parents and married, than proudly struggling to save money as a single man.”

  Amy smiled at his apt description. Tim was his parents’ only child, and she knew she shouldn’t begrudge them their chance for a celebration in a style they were accustomed to. But if they paid for what the Danyluks’ couldn’t afford…that would mean they would pay for more than their share. “And living arrangements?”

  Tim waved his hands as if dismissing that. “There are all kinds of ways around that.”

  “Like what?” Amy said with a frown.

  Tim hesitated. “We could live in the trailer. Or even better, an apartment in town.” He leaned forward suddenly, rubbing the wrinkle between her eyebrows. “You worry too much. Whatever we do is only temporary.”

  “That’s true.” He was right. She did worry too much.

  “In the meantime,” he said, ignoring her and pulling out his pocket calendar, “we have a wedding date to set.” He flipped it open. “So when do you think?”

  “How about a year from now?” she joked.

  Tim stared at her, uncomprehending.

  “Just kidding,” she said, trying out a smile.

  “I’m glad,” he replied, relieved. “I was thinking closer to Christmas of this year.”