Celebrate in Good Hope (Good Hope #22)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Roe and Boone settled inside the tent on a plaid blanket Boone had confiscated from a steamer trunk in his room.

Roe paused, eager to see his reaction when he stepped inside. He didn’t keep her waiting.

“Moons and stars?” He turned back to her, his face a study in delight. “What’s this all about?”

Roe explained about the kids painting the stars but needing to leave before the paint had dried and ended with her showing him the pics she’d sent to Marigold.

Boone fingered one of the fishing lines that attached a star to the ceiling. He looked back at Roe. “This is amazing.”

Roe experienced a flood of pleasure. “Thank you.”

“How did you think to do it?”

“Let’s eat first, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

They finished the bottle of wine and then ate tiny slices of salami and cheese between Ritz crackers. While munching on crisp apples dipped in Greek yogurt sweetened with honey, she quizzed him about his time at the Y.

“After telling Trent about my injury, he and I discussed my doctor’s recommendations.” Boone dipped another slice of apple into the yogurt on his plate. “I tried to tell him the doc is way too conservative. He didn’t buy it.”

Good, Roe thought, as relief flooded her. “What kind of exercises did he have you doing?”

“Stationary cycling and the elliptical machine at low resistance.” Boone’s lips quirked into a rueful smile. “I fit right into the Fit for Life class of older people who were working out.”

“You have to start somewhere.” Roe downed the last of the wine in her glass.

“True,” he agreed, appearing suddenly serious.

“It’s a good start.”

“It’s a start, anyway.” He studied her and then glanced up at the moons and stars dangling overhead. Boone gestured with one hand. “Tell me how this came about.”

“Remember the poster board and paints I purchased when we got the ornaments?”

“They were in that markdown area.” He smiled. “You couldn’t resist.”

“That’s right.” Roe hadn’t been certain how she’d use the items, but she’d had this image in her head of working on an art project with snow falling outside and a fire burning in the hearth.

“Moon and stars?” he prompted.

That’s right, she hadn’t answered his question. “When I was their age, or maybe a little older, I wanted to make a moon and stars and hang them in our family tent when we went camping. It sounds silly now.”

When she chuckled, Boone didn’t join in. Instead, he continued to gaze expectantly at her, telling her the ball remained in her court.

“My dad and brothers loved camping. Me, not so much. Then, one day, I came up with an idea on how to make it more fun. I would cut the stars and moon out of cardboard and paint them so they’d glow in the dark.” Her lips curved as she recalled how excited she’d been for the next camping trip. “I brought them with me, along with a spool of fishing line. The plan was that once the tent was up, I’d hang the moon and stars from the tent ceiling with the fishing line. That way, we could all look up and pretend we were gazing at the sky.”

“Do you feel anxious in closed-in spaces?”

The sudden concern in his eyes warmed her heart.

She shook her head. “I just thought it’d be cool, and making the stars and moon was fun.”

He offered an encouraging smile.

“I thought everyone would like them,” she repeated. Now, simply recalling the look on her father’s face and the hoots of laughter from her brothers had Roe swiping her cheeks as if brushing back the tears that had once slid down them in a steady stream.

When she didn’t say anything for a long moment, Boone didn’t press. He dipped another apple slice in the yogurt and waited.

“I should have known better.” Roe shook her head, disgust directed at herself in her voice. “My brothers were the rough-and-tumble sort. They’d sooner dance naked in the front yard than sleep in a tent that had its own moon and stars. My father was a boy dad, if you know what I mean. He loved me, but I was a foreign creature to him. The military officer in him was horrified by the thought of stars-and-moon décor in a camping tent.”

She gave a humorless laugh. “I tried to keep it together, but I cried when the boys laughed. That made my dad angry.”

Sympathy blanketed Boone’s face. “He was upset with them because they were disrespecting you.”

“Not at them, at me—because of the tears. He considers tears a sign of weakness.”

Boone frowned. “Where was your mom when all this was going down?”

“At home. She hated camping. Mom always said the closest she wanted to get to camping was a Motel 6.” Roe smiled at the memory. A smile that quickly faded. “But my father insisted his kids, all of his kids, would have the full nature experience.”

Roe shut her eyes momentarily as the disappointment of that time washed over her. She opened them to find Boone’s gaze on her, his eyes soft and filled with concern.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

The warmth in his voice touched her heart.

“It’s no biggie.” She gave a careless shrug. “It was a long time ago. I’m surprised I remembered it.”

“Did you ever sleep under the glow-in-the-dark moon and stars?”

“No.” She paused, then realized that wasn’t entirely accurate. “I threw the ones I’d made into the campfire. But sometimes, I’d visualize them hanging from the tent ceiling. I never mentioned that to my brothers or my dad.”

“Probably wise.”

Roe nodded, then spoke quickly, wanting to make sure he understood. “I don’t want you to think my dad or brothers are bad people. The boys were just kids, and my dad’s strength was in dealing with men, not little girls.”

Boone only nodded. “How is he now?”

“If you’re asking if we have a good relationship, I’d say yes. Though he still has high expectations.” Of all the people she’d hated to tell she’d lost her job, her father had ranked at the very top of the list. She couldn’t entirely suppress the sigh. “Since that day, I’ve never cried in front of him, or anyone.”

Boone surprised her when he reached over and took her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers. “You can cry all you want in front of me.”

“You say that now.” She kept her tone light. “You may live to rue that offer.”

“I don’t think so.” Boone squeezed her hand and then released it. He gazed at the ceiling and smiled. “Your brothers don’t know what they missed. ”

He turned to her suddenly. “We should sleep in here tonight. Under the moons and stars.”

She glanced upward, sorely tempted. “The floor is hard, and you’re still recovering?—”

“Hey, one night on the floor isn’t going to kill me.”

“I suppose we could.” Roe couldn’t stop the smile. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Roe smiled, grateful for his understanding and kindness. Jason Boone was a nice guy. The kind of guy she wouldn’t mind dating if the circumstances were different.

The thought brought her up short. Date, actually date , Boone?

Though she quickly dismissed the idea, the thought circled in her brain like a fly that wouldn’t quit buzzing.

Would dating Boone be so bad? There were cons, of course. As their time together in Good Hope was limited, what would be the point in becoming involved in a relationship destined to go nowhere?

Except, she reminded herself, they weren’t kids. They were adults who knew relationships seldom led to a happily ever after. Was there really any downside to simply seizing the moment and enjoying their time in Good Hope together?

Going in at the beginning knowing they had no future might actually make dating easier. They wouldn’t need to consider if the other had all the attributes they were looking for in the long term.

They wouldn’t need to worry if things were moving too fast or slow. In the end, the speed wouldn’t matter.

“All of a sudden, you’re looking awfully serious.” Boone studied her face, his dark eyes looking even darker and more mysterious in the dim light.

Not ready to embrace a dating discussion, Roe said the first thing that came to her mind.

“Marigold brought up the fortune cookie sayings.” Seeing the puzzlement in his eyes, she elaborated. “They were in the tiny envelopes on the tree in the second parlor at the party the other night.”

“That’s what you were thinking about?” The skeptical look in his eye said he wasn’t convinced.

“I’m sure ours are still in my bag, the one I took that evening.” Without any warning, Roe sat up and slipped out of the tent. “I’ll get them. We can see what they say before we make s’mores.”

“Or after,” Boone called after her. He might have said more but likely realized she was already too far away to hear.

Boone lifted a brow when Roe returned several minutes later and dropped down beside him, two tiny envelopes clutched in her hand.

“Looks like you found them.” He didn’t care about the sayings. He only cared that as soon as they were out of the way, he and Roe could move on to the sweet treat part of the evening.

S’mores followed by kissing sounded like a stellar end to what had turned out to be a pleasurable evening.

Boone’s gaze lingered on her mouth, on the full lips that were now curved up in a smile. Forget the s’mores. He resisted the urge to reach out and tug her to him.

“They were right where I thought, or rather where I hoped they’d be.” Holding a small envelope in each hand, she held them out to him. “Pick one.”

Resigned but hoping to get this over with quickly, Boone pointed to the left. “That one.”

She handed it to him, her eyes sparkling. “Open it.”

Whatever had caused her to frown before she’d left to get the envelopes must not have been important, because he saw no signs of any remaining distress, only curiosity.

“I picked first,” Boone reminded her. “You open first. ”

“Okay. Sure.” Still, she hesitated for several heartbeats. “Gladys said that each person will end up with the envelope or box with the saying that is meant to be theirs. But I don’t recall which envelope I picked from the tree versus the one you picked.”

“We picked just now,” Boone reminded her. “You asked which I wanted, and I picked this one.”

He held up the tiny envelope that looked even smaller in his big hand. “The other was meant to be yours.”

“I guess.” Chewing on her lip, she looked so serious that he nearly chuckled. “Regardless of what Gladys or anyone else says, it’s a fortune cookie saying, nothing more.”

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. I’ll read mine. You’ll read yours and then?—”

“We move to the next phase of the evening.” Boone couldn’t stop the smile.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Then we make s’mores.”

The tiny piece of paper she slipped from the inside of the envelope resembled the thin strips of paper hidden in fortune cookies.

“What does it say?” he prompted when she frowned.

“‘Move in the direction of your dreams.’”

“That fits your situation perfectly.”

She looked up from the paper.

“Think about it,” he continued. “You left Minneapolis to follow your dream of working in the theater.”

“I’m in Good Hope.” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Unemployed.”

“Temporarily. Besides, you’re working with Gladys while you’re here, and you plan to speak with Fin about her contacts in LA. These are all ways of moving in the direction of your dreams.”

“When you put it that way…” Her brows pulled together, and he r expression turned thoughtful. “It does fit. Let’s see what yours says.”

He dropped his gaze to the envelope.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

Instead of carefully opening the envelope the way Roe had done with hers, Boone tore off the top and pulled out the paper, quickly reading the message.

He gave a strangled laugh. “I can’t believe this was meant for me.”

“What does it say?”

Boone cleared his throat and read, “‘True love is not something that comes every day. Follow your heart—it knows the right answer.’”