Page 7 of The Maverick's Homecoming

What could he say? “Well. Alright, then.” It wasn’t alright. But he did understand. He’d blown it, pure and simple.

“It’s just…” Her voice trailed off.

“Just what, Kenzie?” He kept his tone gentle.

“It’s a bad idea for us to get all buddy-buddy. And not because of what happened fifteen years ago.”

“Tell the truth,” he coaxed. “You’re pissed because I’m a jerk who took way too damn long to call.”

“No. Honestly, I’m not pissed at you, not at all.”

“So then, have dinner with me.”

Several painful seconds crawled by. Finally, she said, “I’m not ready to go out with any guy, not even for old times’ sake. Not even as friends. I need to…focus on myself right now. My life is changing and I can’t afford unnecessary complications.”

So now, he was both unnecessaryanda complication? He really had blown it. He’d felt such a connection with her that day at the Grizzly.

But now what could he say? “Right. I’ll let you go then.”

“Finn, honestly, I—”

“Kenzie. It’s okay. You said no. And I get it.”

Dead silence on her end. And then, she said, “Of course. I understand. Take care of yourself.”

“You too,” he replied.

And that was it. She disconnected the call.

* * *

But Tenacity was a small town. He was bound to run into her now and then.

On a rainy day toward the end of May, he saw her at Tenacity Grocery. He glanced up from tossing a box of Raisin Bran into his cart and there she was coming his way.

He thought how pretty she looked in jeans, a white shirt and a hooded canvas jacket, with her long blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. At the last minute, as the distance between their carts shrank to a couple of feet, he remembered to put on a smile.

She said, “Hello, Finn.”

“Kenzie.” He gave her a nod and kept moving forward.

The building was an old one, the aisles narrow enough that the wheels of their carts almost touched. He got a faint hint of her perfume—vanilla and oranges—and took special care not to look back at her once she had rolled on by.

A few weeks later, he spotted her having lunch with three other women in the Silver Spur Café. He’d come in to pick up a take-out order and saw her there by the window that looked out on Central Avenue. She was laughing at something Lauren Dalton, who taught science at the high school, had said.

He couldn’t stop himself from staring. As Kenzie threw back her head, her pale hair gleamed in the sunlight that streamed through the window behind her. Her happy laughter captivated him. He made himself turn away so that she wouldn’t catch him watching her. As luck would have it, his take-out order was right there waiting for him. He grabbed it and got the hell out of there.

Then, in the first week of August, he came face-to-face with her at the high school, which he’d figured would happen eventually. They met up at the entrance that led directly into the administrative wing. He was going in and she was on her way out.

“Kenzie.” He tipped his hat as he held the door open for her to go through.

“Thank you, Finn.”

“You’re welcome.”

By then, she was already walking away. He just stood there holding the door wide open, staring at her retreating back as she strode purposefully along the front walkway, heading for the parking lot. The sun made her hair into a waterfall of gold down her back. She wore a filmy, light-as-air shirt with fluttery sleeves and a full skirt that fell to mid-calf. Her boots were tooled with flowers. He watched her go and wished…

What the hell did it matter what he wished? She’d shut him down and he didn’t blame her for it. There was nothing to wish for.