That First Special Kiss

“Of course not.” Jared sounded almost irritated by the question. “I just said ‘hmm,’ Shane. Why are you makin

g so much out of it?”

He couldn’t answer, other than that he was baffled by his father’s uncharacteristically cryptic conversation. Jared usually stated his thoughts bluntly and without prevarication. But if he was trying to make a particular point this afternoon, it eluded Shane completely.

Jared changed the subject before Shane could decide what to say. “Cassie’s picking up the tickets tomorrow for our vacation next month. You’re still okay with watching Molly for ten days?”

Deciding with some relief to follow his father’s conversational lead, Shane hefted the remaining roll of barbed wire into the back of Jared’s pickup. ‘I’m looking forward to it. Molly and I will have a great time.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve never had her for more than a week before. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Shane chuckled. He was unashamedly crazy about his twelve-year-old half sister. He hadn’t even hesitated to let her stay at his house while Jared and Cassie took a long overdue vacation after Thanksgiving. He was convinced it was the best arrangement for everyone. His house was on the ranch, within sight of the larger, main house Molly shared with her parents. She could catch the school bus at the usual spot by the ranch’s entrance gate. And she would be around to take care of the menagerie of pets she had accumulated during the past few years.

“No sweat,” he said with certainty. “I can handle it.”

“Hmm.”

Those enigmatic “hmms” were beginning to get on his nerves. He gathered the remainder of their tools, threw them into the truck, then stripped off his work gloves. “Didn’t Cassie say something about frying chicken for dinner?”

Jared glanced at his watch. “By the time we finish at the barn and get cleaned up, she’ll probably have dinner ready for us.”

“Sounds great. Let’s go.”

They climbed into the truck, Jared behind the wheel. During the short, bumpy ride back to the barn, Shane found himself thinking of Kelly again and wondering why Jared had seemed so ambivalent toward her today. Jared had always seemed fond of Kelly, as Shane was, himself. Was he only imagining that Jared acted now as if something had changed? And, if so, what could it be?

A white delivery van pulled up in front of Shane’s white-frame bungalow late the next afternoon. Shane was just walking up to the house after working in the barn, and he was grimy and sweaty. He had planned on heading straight for the shower. The sight of the van pulling to a stop in his driveway made him pause.

He spoke to the black-and-white border collie at his heels, who had gone on alert at the sight of a stranger in the driveway. “Chill out, Paulie.”

In response to the familiar command, the dog relaxed and began to wag its tail.

“Can I help you?” Shane asked the young man who climbed out of the driver’s door of the van.

“Are you Shane Walker?”

“Yes.”

The delivery driver nodded. “Got something for you.”

Shane was startled when the driver pulled an arrangement of cut flowers out of the van. Only then did he notice the sign painted on the side of the vehicle—Francine’s Flowers And Gifts. The driver dumped the large arrangement unceremoniously into Shane’s dirty hands. “Enjoy,” he said.

Shane gaped at the multicolored blooms arranged in a clear glass vase. “You’re—uh—sure these are for me?”

“Says Shane Walker on the tag. This address.” The young man winked. “If some woman sent me flowers, I’d say she was giving me a pretty clear message.”

Balancing the vase in his left arm, Shane dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out a five—the only cash he had with him at the moment. “Er—thanks,” he said, offering the bill to the delivery driver and hoping he had the etiquette right. He’d never been the recipient of flowers before.

The driver cheerfully pocketed the money and climbed back into his van. A minute later, Shane was standing alone outside his house, the scents of carnations, mums and other blooms wafting around him. Curious, he carried the arrangement inside and set it on a table. The fall colors matched the rusts and creams he and Cassie had selected when he’d decorated his cozy cottage.

He plucked a card from deep within the bouquet. He hoped it hadn’t been Gayla who’d sent them. He’d taken the curvy redhead out a time or two, but had backed off when she’d seemed to make more of his asking her out than he had intended. Flowers from her at this point would certainly be awkward, since that would be a sign that she hadn’t taken his hint about their future together—or lack of one.

But it hadn’t been Gayla who’d sent the arrangement, he saw at once. Printed in flowery, engraved script at the top of the small cardboard rectangle was the message, “Thinking of you.” Written below in a familiar scrawl were two simple words, “Love, Kelly.”

Shane was both touched and bemused by her gesture. She had sent the flowers because his mother had died. Coming from Kelly, the flowers seemed more than the standard expression of sympathy. The gesture was a sign of empathy, which, under the circumstances, meant even more to him.

On an impulse, he leaned over to sniff a golden bloom. The scent reminded him of the faintly floral fragrance Kelly often wore. He’d always liked it.

He glanced at his watch, wondering if she was home yet. If he remembered correctly, she was usually home early on Monday afternoons. Kelly was a full-time graduate student at the University of Texas at Dallas, her tuition paid by scholarships, her living expenses met by her part-time work with a local children’s speech and hearing treatment center. He knew money was a bit tight for her, yet she’d sent him flowers to let him know he was in her thoughts. He was touched by her generosity.