My Stubborn Heart by Becky Wade Page B

I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
    She couldn’t imagine what, since they’d already covered meth, bowling, and poker. “Okay.”
    â€œYou’re young. You know all about romance and such.”
    Who did Morty have to offer, she wondered. Commitment-phobe grandson? Geeky neighbor? Self-obsessed nephew? “I’m not sure I do know that much about it, unfortunately.”
    â€œWell, I . . .” He scowled. Alongside the trail, the creek came into view—clear and cold looking with a few leaves floating on top. “Young girls your age—you like going to the, what do you call it? Spa? Getting your nails done?”
    She looked at him, befuddled.
    â€œWhat I’m trying to say— What I mean is—” He growled in frustration, stopped walking, and turned to face her. “I love Velma.”
    â€œAh.”
    His faded green eyes filled with earnest sadness. “She won’t have me, though. Won’t even agree to a date.”
    Kate winced. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œAnd I’m sick of waiting for that woman.” He began to gesture, warming to his subject. “My wife’s been gone twenty years and a man has needs. . . .”
    If he finished that thought, Kate was going to hurl herself into the stream.
    â€œVelma’s a spirited one,” he continued. “I know that. Heck, I like fire in a lady. But I must’ve asked her out fifty times now and still nothing. Nothing!”
    â€œI see.”
    â€œI have my pride, you know.”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œI’ve about had it up to here with her.” He vehemently indicated his forehead.
    â€œGot it.”
    He stared moodily at the stream, cracked a few knobby knuckles. “I’ve got a couple of tricks left up my sleeve, though.”
    Kate waited, curling and uncurling her toes in her sneakers.
    He indicated the path ahead. “Shall we?”
    â€œSure.”
    They began forward. “I’d like to offer you a deal,” he said. “I’d like you to help along my pursuit of Velma. You know, get her to go on some proper dates with me.”
    â€œI don’t think I have much influence with her, Morty.”
    â€œOh, I reckon you do. I can tell that she thinks highly of you.”
    This was news to Kate. Apparently affection and grim acceptance were, coming from Velma, indistinguishable.
    â€œShe only has sons and grandsons, you know. Freeloaders, the lot of them. Compared to them, you’re a peach.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œSo here’s the thing. Bring her around to me, and I’ll give you some certificates—gift certificates, you know—to the spa.”
    Now he was talking her language. “How many gift certificates?”
    â€œOne for each date.”
    â€œHow much would each of these certificates be worth?”
    He peered at her, eyebrows lowered.
    She grinned at him, shrugged. “Velma’s not going to be easy to convince.”
    â€œFifty dollars per certificate and not a penny more.”
    â€œDone.” She extended her hand.
    He received it with a firm shake.

chapter four
    Apparently Gran didn’t think Kate could fit a key into a lock without help. Or perhaps Gran worried that the barn was infested with spiders and didn’t want Kate bitten without company. Or maybe—and with a sinking sensation, Kate acknowledged this possibility most likely—Gran was attempting some matchmaking. She’d insisted that Matt accompany Kate to the upper floor of the barn so that he could “help her” investigate whatever was stored within.
    Matt, who was wearing worn jeans, boots, his ball cap, and another soft-looking flannel shirt over another long-sleeved shirt, had agreed to Gran’s request. But he’d agreed with an air of long-suffering resignation, which was hardly flattering.
    Matt tolerated her. God knew she’d been trying to establish