Page 42 of Steadfast

Abel, this wasn’t part of the deal.

She filled her lungs with the fresh mountain air. Glancing down the row of fence posts, she realized that it hadn’t been far from that very spot that he had gotten down on one knee to propose. It wasn’t a memory that often came to mind, yet she couldn’t help but allow herself to reminisce. Abel had knelt before her there with that hopeful smile that lit up his blazing green eyes and accentuated his dimples.

Maeve wanted to be his wife more than anything in the world, and yet—

She closed her eyes while she remembered all too vividly the deep anguish that had overwhelmed her that day in the pasture.

Chapter 14

Steady

Maeve & Abel

Maeve stood behind the register at Ruth’s Coffee Shop, casually leaning her elbows on the counter and propping her chin on her closed fist as the warm sunshine beamed through the large storefront windows. Lost in thought, she observed the occasional butterfly flutter past. It had been two wonderful years in the little town of White Bridge, and Maeve felt that she had been given far more than she had ever deserved.

The familiar rumble of Abel’s blue truck reverberated through the cafe walls, causing Maeve to perk up at the sound. She quickly stepped past Ruth to the back kitchen, giving herself a glance in the mirror that hung over the handwashing sink. She ran her fingers through her hair and dusted off any remnants of stubborn baking flour that seemed to always coat every inch of her clothes despite the apron.

The door jingled open. Abel’s deep, cheerful tenor filled the shop and resonated all the way to the back of the kitchen.

“Hey, Jake. How you doing?” he said, pulling the robust cowboy into a firm handshake.

Jake had been planted at the counter for the better part of the afternoon, immersed in conversation and driving Ruth crazy as usual.

“About as good as you can imagine with the price of cattle the way it is,” Jake answered, scratching his fingernails over his rough gray beard.

“Now, don’t get him wound up, Abel,” Ruth interjected, wearing a pinched expression. “It’s the only sad song he seems to know how to sing these days, and I’m tired of dancing to it.”

Jake let out a guttural scoff. “You Callaways are just lucky, Ruth, just plain lucky.”

“It ain’t luck, Jake,” she answered, raising an eyebrow to let him know that was one topic that wasn’t up for debate.

“I understand you’re frustrated,” Abel acknowledged his concern.

Ruth crossed her arms and leaned back on the counter. Her brow furrowed with the usual amount of aggravation. “I’ll have you note that no amount of frustration keeps old Jake away from my shop every darn day.”

“Well, a man’s got to have some luxuries in life,” Jake erupted in a chuckle that made his large belly bounce. He lifted the mug of coffee and took an obnoxiously loud slurp.

They all knew that the luxury he was referring to wasn’t just the coffee but his daily opportunity to annoy the tar out of Ruth.

“We’ve probably lost about half the town, I’d say,” Ruth chimed in, shaking her head sadly as she considered. “Lots of friends and neighbors can’t afford to survive on a rancher’s salary anymore.”

“I’m hoping we’ve found the answer,” Abel said, bolstering his mother with a reassuring tone. “I really think we’re on to something, and maybe we can help the whole town.”

“You take care of your family, son,” Jake said with a glimmer of pride. “If Callaway Ranch is thriving, all the rest will follow. We’re all real proud of you.”

“Thanks, Jake,” Abel said, giving a nod of appreciation to the neighbor who had known him since he was a boy. “Is Maeve around?” he asked, now pivoting to the whole point of his visit.

“She heard you pull up, and she took off to the back to primp,” Ruth said with a snicker of amusement.

Maeve cringed as she felt her stomach flip flop. It had taken some time for her to get accustomed to the lighthearted teasing in the Callaway family. It was unfamiliar to Maeve, who had been raised in a home with a constant barrage of sarcastic, harsh, and most of all, critical commentary at her expense. After just a brief time at the ranch, she realized that the Callaway wit came from a place of warmth and acceptance, and it meantthat she was a part of something bigger than herself—a family who loved her.

Abel’s amused voice came echoing back through the kitchen.

“She should know by now that she never has to primp for me,” he said. “She’s beautiful no matter how much flour she’s got in her hair.”

The compliment was like pure warmth that made her heartbeat quicken.

Composing herself as she stepped out of the kitchen, she soaked up the moment when Abel laid eyes on her. If she had the choice, she would bask there in his gaze that seemed to shine just for her.

---