9. Reeves

nine

Back in the truck on another trip to town for a new stupid pipe fitting. I was beginning to sound like my old man, but they didn't make stuff like they used to. Stupid plastic junk was already cracked. I didn't even get it out of the package, and I could tell it wasn't right. On top of that, I couldn't stop yawning, but it wasn't because of my lack of coffee. I was up all night, tossing with my thoughts all garbled up. Mostly I kept picturing Erralee in the water. It was an absurdity to even consider, but I'd seen that look before, and she'd clearly wanted me to kiss her.

I couldn't do it.

I wanted to kiss her.

My insides froze.

My brain froze.

My everything jammed up.

Even as awkward as it was trying to pretend we didn't almost kiss, I'm glad we didn't. I'd suffer dearly for that later when she moved along to get married. Somedays I could barely do life. The last thing I needed was to survive a heartbreak.

And what is up with this small town? I forced my brain into a change of subject. For only a few thousand people, they did an awful lot of gathering in the middle of town, which forced me into finding a parking space more elusive than the Bermuda triangle. I settled on parking in an alley off Main Street. Apparently, some sort of a flea market plugged up all the paved roads.

People meandered from one end of the street down to the other. Farmers with produce stands, women selling knitted shower cap looking thingys in every size, people with used books and pottery. I was pretty sure it was town clean-out-your-junk day. I dodged a woman pulling a wagon piled full of kids. She had so many children, and not one of them had a decent haircut. It looked as if she had a wagon load of mops.

Not having planned on this today, I swiped my forehead, anxiety inflating in my chest. People everywhere being way too people-y. This was different from the festival the other night. It seemed so much more disorganized, and without the music to focus on, my unease grew.

I could come back . . .

I don't really need water to live anyway.

I'll be fine for a few days.

I need to get out of here.

I tried whistling to calm my nerves. The only thing that I succeeded in doing, was making me look like a crazy person. I turned on my heel, but I immediately had to dodge hordes of people. I got mixed up and started walking in the wrong direction. Panic filled my chest. The ground appeared to wobble, threatening to open up and suck me in. I was sinking!

Battlefield memories of being trapped circled my head, and I got dizzy. I dodged the crowd left, and veered right, only to be met with kids laughing in my ear, and chatter swirling all around. I found it rather odd that people were still going about in merriment with the war looming not far away. Then again, the war had gone on for so long, they more than likely had gone numb to it.

Marching band music wafted in the air, reminding me of a high school spirit song. It was an unrecognizable tune that did everything it could to throw me off balance.

I was losing my mind.

Stumbling backward, trying to right my direction, I plowed into a lady carrying a large, flat basket. Her basket flipped, and dozens of long-stem roses tumbled to her feet.

"Sorry," I muttered, immediately taking a knee and collecting them.

"Reeves," a voice I didn't know floated above my head. "That's you, right? I recognized the hand."

Of course, she did. It was impossible to hide it. Once people heard my story, they acted like I was public property. I lifted my heavy eyelids. A woman met my gaze, but I couldn't place her. "Uh, do I know you?" I tipped my hat up and let my eyes rake over her auburn curls.

"Francine." She paused, smiling back at me as if that should have rung a bell. It didn't, and my head was swelling with a headache each second longer I had to stand there.

"Elliot," she added. Smiling even wider.

"E-Elliot?" I stammered, feeling the sweat immediately slap on my back. "You're Frank's widow." My vision suddenly split into dual screens. I was still staring at her, but a figment of my closest comrade flashed in front of my eyes. Startled, I took a step back. I clenched my eyelids and rubbed my palm over my eyes, but still I saw his face. Turning my head, I tried to remove the image, but it followed me like a mirage in the desert. It would only be a moment, and I guessed I'd hear his voice. My feet tingled, ready to flee. I need to get out of here.

Thankfully her soft voice centered me back to the present day. "I am."

I panted out, breathing as if it was the first real breath I'd taken in the last five minutes. "I'm so sorry for your loss," I fumbled, as I stacked the last of the roses back into her basket, patting my hand on top, steadying them.

"Thank you." Her lashes lowered thoughtfully before she said, "And, how are you?"

Clearing my throat, I managed, "I'm here." I motioned to the flowers, desperate to get the conversation off me. "Are you vending here?"

"Yes." She shifted the weight of the basket into her other arm. "It's a side job I added to help with Little Frank's schooling."

"Wait a second." My brows knitted together, already hating the way this conversation was going. "You're selling these to pay for your boy's education?"

"For now." She pulled her lips tight. "I didn't have the heart to switch his schools on top of everything else he's been through. It's only once a month and that extra money helps so much."

How much could she possibly make selling roses once a month? Seems implausible that she'd make enough for anything but a tank of gas. She must have been desperate to bother. My gaze scanned the sidewalk, seeing many kids but no mini-Frank. "And where is he now?"

She hiked a thumb over her shoulder, pointing north. "He's with a neighbor while I work."

My back molars ground together. I couldn't comprehend how weird this was, running into my fallen friend's widow on the street, nearly begging for money. I yanked my money clip out of my pocket and peeled off a few bills. "What do they sell for? I'll take the whole bundle so you can go home and spend time with your boy."

"Ah, heaven's no." She took a step back, flashing her palm. "It's fine. I usually sell out in three or four hours."

"No," I sternly affirmed, taking my entire cash wad, placing it in her hand. I didn't have the words to tell her that Elliot had my back the entire time. War buddies. He'd saved me more than once. He was the only reason I was standing here instead of him. "It's really not much, but maybe you can make a memory with little Frank."

Her lashes fluttered, fighting back tears, as her fingers curled around the cash.

I reached toward her basket. "I'll take those flowers off your hands."

"It's one hundred roses." She raised a skeptical brow. "What are you going to do with them?"

"I must be assured you don't stay to sell them and actually go home."

She released the basket. I was rather surprised by how heavy it was, as I slid the basket on to my arm, shifting the weight. She reached out and cupped my cheek in her hand, holding it there while she paused. "Thank you—"

"Don't," I cut her off with a whisper, doing my best not to be rude. This conversation was dragging on more than I would have liked. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate her, or Frank. It was too much of my past bleeding into my present. Nobody in this little town was supposed to know me. If I didn't get away from her soon, more memories would come flooding back, and I couldn't have that. I backed away from her, and waved goodbye. "I'm not going to keep you."

She flashed her hand up in a wave and turned on her heel, heading the opposite direction. Then I pivoted, not used to this giant foliage on my arm, and for the second time tonight crashed this stupid basket. Clearly, this thing needs caution lights.

"Ferschimmelt!" a voice called out.

"Excuse me." I steadied my basket again and successfully held the roses stacked on top. My lips parted at the sight of Erralee standing before me, wearing another yellow dress and a sun hat. Even if she hadn't been an actual princess, she looked like one. Her hair flowed down her shoulders, framing her perfect feminine posture. Her lips were flawlessly pouty, the perfect place to drop a kiss. Whoa, what! I forced my eyes to cement on hers, away from her kissable lips.

"Hey, Reeves." She offered a sheepish grin, her cheeks spiking a blush that matched her already redder-than-usual nose.

"H-Hey." I fumbled, still restacking the roses, which by now had started to tatter with some of the petals peeling back. A few stray petals even fell to the ground by my feet. "What did you call me?"

"Oh, it wasn't a name. It's Yiddish." She waved dismissively. "I'm not allowed to swear, but I've collected a handful of funny words that feel good to blurt out."

I blinked, both amazed I'd bumped into her in this sea of people, while also stunned that she'd be here in the first place. "Um, that's interesting. What does it mean?"

"Oh." She flicked her hand in a ladylike manner. "It's a wrinkly vegetable, but nobody knows that. It's fun to say." She smiled daringly and urged, "Try it."

"Try saying ferchim . . . "

"It's fer shim melt and say it with conviction." She curled her hand into a fist and shook it playfully in front of her face.

"Ferschimmelt." I enunciated each syllable, feeling proud I could get that word out in one breath.

She offered a humorous scowl. "You can say it louder than that."

I checked behind me. Yep, people were still everywhere, and likely to think I was nuts. I had no idea how she was getting me to do this silly thing, but I proceeded to practically shout, "Fershimmelt!"

Placing her hand over her mouth, she concealed a giggle. "That was much better."

"I'm surprised I ran into you here." I gestured toward the street. "I didn't think flea markets would be your thing. No open fields for you to nap in—" I stopped before I mentioned rock climbing. That would just be awkward. Why do my toes curl just being near her? I'm sure it has nothing to do with our almost kiss yesterday.

Her lips pulled into an uncomfortable grimace. "I'm making the last of my goodbye rounds."

"Goodbye?" My brow dropped as suddenly the reddened tip of her nose made sense. She had obviously been crying. By the look of dread in her eyes, I guessed it was something horrific. "Say what?" I fumbled, hoping to rewind her words.

Her lips tightened before she leaked out, "I ah, am officially accepting King Aswell's proposal tonight." She raised both brows in what should have been a look of excitement, but the inflections in her eyes confessed her lies.

She was close to tears, and so was I!

I thought she had five more days!

"Oh, man." I ran a hand along my forehead, feeling a tad feverish. "Are you sure you want to say that so soon? Maybe you need to get to know him for a while. Marriage is a big deal," my voice squeaked. Such a travesty. I needed to work on that.

Her shoulder raised, faking she didn't care, but despair swirled in her eyes. She was not convinced yet. I still had hope. I have a chance to change her mind! Now, I needed a plan. My gaze squirted the sidewalk, until I was reminded of the giant basket of roses in my hand. It was so perfect I almost yelped. "Here." I pushed the whole basket forward, pulling one side of my lips into a half grin. "I ah, got you roses. I planned this whole surprise for you, but haha, it looks like you busted me."

"You did?" Her gaze dropped to the basket. "That's awfully sweet, but why would you do that?"

Why would I do that?I drummed my fingers on the side of my leg as I mulled this over. That's a good question. No, it's a great question that deserves a good answer. "Er, isn"t it obvious?"

"No." She shook her head back and forth while still staring at the flowers. "Those are red roses. Usually, you give red to someone you—"

"Love," I cut her off, unsure why I just spit out the L word. I mean, I definitely wasn't going to be busting that out any time soon. "Right." I waved my free hand gingerly over the basket. "This wasn't really about love. It's more of a convenience of color," I rambled. "It's more of an I-was-thinking-about-you sort of thing."

"That's really sweet." She pinned a confused line between her brows. "I don't think I can accept them, though. Out of respect for my situation, and all."

This can't be happening! How can I be out of time? Oh, wait . . . she said she was accepting the offer tonight. I still had today! I checked behind her. She appeared to be alone. "Ah, are you here with him now?"

"No," her words tumbled out, laced with relief. "I snuck out by myself. There have been many closed-door meetings at the castle, so I waited for one."

"We need to go somewhere alone," I accidentally mumbled out loud when I thought I was only thinking it.

Her chin took an angled stance. "Pardon me?"

"Oh, I mean, ah, if you're leaving." I clasped my hands in front of me and leaned a measure toward her. "You should let me do something nice for you."

"I should be getting back to the castle soon. It's quite a walk." Her gaze skirted to the side, and she dropped her voice. "I don't want anyone to discover I snuck out without my security."

"You don't have your guard," I rushed to echo as this was the best news ever! If she was alone, then I could offer a ride home and get more time with her. "How about I take you home!" I blurted out eagerly, then immediately dropped my tone, "I mean, I don't think it's safe for you to be off wandering around without security. Plus, I can bring your roses too." Her eyes dropped to the basket again, and her lips pinched. Before she refused, I tacked on, "Consider them congratulations."

"Ah, okay." Her nervous gaze slid forward. "That might be okay."

"Perfect." I ushered her forward toward the alley where my truck was parked. "So right this way. It's not a royal chariot," I joked, "but it"s 1000 HP." I flashed her my best lady-killer-smile before I forgot I didn't have a lady-killer smile. I'd never been one to flirt. This was painful! Why didn't they teach this stuff in school? I'd do boot camp a hundred times if it meant I never had to flirt.

I approached my truck and opened her door like a perfect escort. I was clearly racking up bonus points with all my gentlemanly ways. It was too bad I had to compete with that stupid king. I set the basket in the box and then ran around to my door, jumped in, and cranked the engine. I took off toward the castle.

I thought she would remain quiet, but she initiated small talk. "Thanks for the ride. I'm sorry if I interrupted your plans in town."

"Oh no," I assured her. "I was only there to get a pipe fitting to fix a leaky pipe, but it was so busy, I was on my way out."

"Do you have plumbing problems?" Her brow lowered as if she actually cared about plumbing systems.

"It's been an ongoing issue." I drummed my fingers on my steering wheel, as I diagnosed while I spoke, "Since the place sat empty for so long, I'm beginning to suspect there's something bigger going on. I'll switch out this fitting for now, and see if I get water again. If not, I'll have to try something else."

"Ah, you have no water?" Her chin inclined to a thoughtful angle. "What are you doing for cooking and showers?"

"Well." I slowed the truck, taking the bend in the road that led to the castle hill. "I've been grabbing water from town—"

"But you didn't get any today because of me," she cut me off, empathy hinting in her tone.

"Not because of you—" I tried to tell her the rest of the sentence. The part that said this was better. I'd rather thirst for days than miss this opportunity to see her one more time, but she gave me one of those smiles I was beginning to memorize. It was higher on one side, and should come with a black box warning because it had the force to stop my heart.

She pointed out her window. "You might want to slow up here, because of the guards. I'll have to explain what's happening, but hopefully Weston's at his post."

My truck crawled forward, my heart ticking up when I spotted the infantry soldiers in their uniforms. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel so much my knuckles bleached. It wasn't that I missed being a soldier because I didn't. However, the uniforms sent my mind back to a place that stole the air from my lungs.

I turned into their long driveway, my truck jostling forward, finding every pothole. It was a very bouncy reminder of all the ways the war was bleeding this country of resources as we hadn't had proper road construction in two years. I winced when I nearly hit my head.

"Ah, Weston's not here." Her smile died as she murmured, "I thought it was odd I could leave the castle without him, but now it makes sense. He must be on his day off."

"What does that mean?"

"Weston's my personal guard, but he's more than that. He's a friend and he never narcs on me. I was hoping he'd cover for me." She rolled down her window and waved toward the guards. "Are you kidding me?" She moaned. Her face blanching.

"What's wrong?" I leaned forward, trying to see where her gaze was fixed.

"Father's standing out front. He never comes out for air. What is he doing?" Sticking her head out the window, she called toward the king, "I'm getting a ride home from a friend."

Neither the king, nor the soldiers, twitched as they stood in line, and we passed with ease. "Is it weird living with soldiers around you all of the time?" I asked with the feeling of a light trance with the uniforms still in view.

"I don't think it's as weird as being a soldier."

Suddenly the back of my throat burned. It hadn't dawned on me before that she might actually know something about me. "How did you know I was a soldier?"

"I asked father about you after you yelled at me for being on your land. He confirmed he had sold his land to a soldier." She motioned to the driveway that split off from the main circular drive. "You can park up here."

I swallowed, hating that people talked about me. "It's not weird anymore since it's over." I tried not to mutter.

The king waved with an inviting smile on his face. "Mr. Mathews, I thought that was you." He strode over to the truck and peered inside. "I should have known Erralee was off napping again. She's been sleeping in that field since she was knee-high. I should have warned you when I sold you the land."

"It's fine." My lips curled into a genuine grin. "I'm getting quite used to her."

Her dad motioned toward the parking garage. "Since you are here, you might as well pull in, and stay for dinner tonight."

"Nah, I got work—" My auto-anti-people nature kicked in before I could see what was happening. I had been invited to eat with the king—the exact person I needed to talk to! I interrupted my own words, "Well, I wouldn't want to be any trouble."

"For being a guest?" His brows raised. "No trouble at all. You're our neighbor, and a friend."

I bit back a victory smile as this was too perfect! Once I explained to him how the farmstead he sold me was absolute junk, and I still didn't have running water, he'd have to consider selling me the bigger farmstead across the highway. "If you insist."

"I do."

I didn't want to appear too eager, so I downplayed my excitement, "I would be honored to stay, but I hope I'm not underdressed."

"Oh," His eyes grazed my ranch wear. "There's probably time for you to shower. My butler can find you something proper to wear."

"If it's okay with Erralee." I looked back at her, as she had been quiet the entire conversation, sitting unmoving on the bench seat next to me.

She was biting the corner of her lip, looking intrigued, and quickly added, "Certainly. It would be a pleasure for you to stay."

"It's settled." Erralee's father pointed forward, ushering me to a parking spot as I drove up. As I parked the truck, I caught Erralee's eyes. "I didn't expect a dinner invitation. I hope it's okay. I didn't want to be rude by turning your father down."

"It's perfectly fine," she quipped. "I'm glad you're here. In a way, it feels as if I have someone on my side." She opened the door and jumped down before I had a chance to assist her. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Father's butler." She slammed the truck door, leading me toward the castle.

I was doing ninja kicks in my head. Completely clueless about how this opportunity to dine with the king fell into my lap, but it had to be fate. Part of me wanted to slow down and take in the environment. I'd never been to the castle before. It looked better than in the pictures, but I didn't have time to stare because Erralee was hurrying, and I struggled to keep up with her. "You are so different from what you'd imagine from a princess." My words floated out a little softer than expected, but I was in awe of how she actually lived here.

She guffawed, tossing her head back slightly, before spitting out, "That's probably why Father was so quick to trade me away."

"Don't say that," I continued in a lower tone. "I don't think that's how it went at all. King Aswell saw how special you were."

"Either way, it's a done deal." Her voice was so remorseful, a reply would have been disrespectful.

We passed through the front door, and my eyes quickly floated to the cathedral-high ceilings and crystal chandeliers that were bigger than my truck. Adrenaline trickled through my veins, happily feeding me with a surge of energy, and I held my breath. Don't screw this up . . .