âHey, hey,â Ryan said softly. âItâs okay.â
Katie could hear his voice falter and knew his words were as much for himself as they were for her. Suddenly she knew she would do anything, would move heaven and earth, to make him feel better ⦠if only she knew what that anything was.
âIs there something I can do to ⦠help?â she asked, her own voice shaking.
âYouâre doing it now,â he answered.
âWhat do you mean?â
âShh, Katie,â he said. âJust let me hold you.â
He wrapped his arms tighter around her; it felt simultaneously natural and earth-shattering to be held by him, the man she should have given her heart to long before then. For the longest time sheâd thought she was just lost without him, that sheâd never be able to find someone like him again. Sheâd settled for Bradley, had done her best with their relationship, knowing all the time, somewhere in the very back of her mind, that he wasnât The One.
It was Ryan. It had always been Ryan.
Peach Leaf, Texas: Where true love blooms
Chapter One
Ryan Ford signaled and pulled off Main Street into the parking lot of Jenkinsâ. The pubâs name was a testament to its no-nonsense atmosphere as a favorite local hangout. He might not be a drinking man, but he wasnât abstaining from the best hot wings in Peach Leaf, Texas. After turning off his vehicle, he headed toward the door.
Walking into that pub was like taking a step into the past. The thick, delicious scent of frying chicken hit his nostrils, and the twang of country music from an ancient jukebox spilled out over heel-marred hardwood floors.
He swore not a single thing had changed, not even the barstools, which were made from salvaged tree stumps after a field nearby had caught fire a good twenty years ago. Each of the stools was carved into something uniqueâfrom horse behinds to totem poles. He couldnât help himself. The stupid old things still made him chuckle. The only thing notably absent from the setting was a thick cloud of cigarette smoke.
Ryan smiled to himself, thinking of the ruckus it must have caused with the locals when whomever had been in charge decided to do away with smoking in bars.
The wall was still decorated with photographs of famous folks who had managed to stumble into Peach Leaf on their way to somewhere else. In snapshot after snapshot, famous arms were draped over and over again around the pubâs heavyset owner, Maude Jenkins, and her rail-thin husband, Jimmy. The couple smiled in each and every one, including the shot of Ryan and the rest of the senior varsity football team. A few of the photos were newerâones Ryan hadnât seen beforeâand the evidence that two of his favorite people were still happy after all this time made his heart dance a little two-step.
âWell, Iâll be damned.â The deep, smoky voice jolted Ryan out of his thoughts and he turned from the wall, smack into the arms of Maude. âWhere in the hell have you been, boy? Whatâs it been? Fifty, seventy-five years since youâve graced us with your presence?â
Ryan wrapped his arms around Maudeâs broad shoulders and squeezed her into a hug. Her warm scentâa strangely comforting combination of leather and flowersâbrought back memories of Friday nights after football games, when a good portion of the town had come to this same dive to celebrate wins.
âHi, Mrs. Jenkins. Howâve you been?â
Maude flashed a huge, pink-lipsticked grin and held him out with her arms to give him a long once-over. âIâve been fine, kid, just fine. But never mind. How the hell have you been?â She embraced him again and patted him on the back.
The woman was strong as an ox. The team had always teased her that she would make an excellent linebacker, and Maude, bless her, had never once taken offense, but rather accepted the comment as it was meant coming from clueless male teenagersâa compliment. Those pats would have knocked the wind out of a smaller man, but Ryan held his own at six-foot-two.
âJust fine, Mrs. Jenkins. Just fine,â he said, careful not to say too much.
Ryan and his father had discussed the sale of the Peach Leaf Pioneer Museum for months before theyâd coordinated that morningâs face-to-face meeting with the owner and director. The museumâa centerpiece of Peach Leaf and a gold mine of West Texas historyâwould itself become a thing of the past in the near future, as Ryanâs architecture firm partnered with his dadâs construction company to build a cancer treatment hospital in its place. He knew and respected Mrs. Wallaceâs reasons for selling her land, but the town was understandably upset about the coming change.