Take a Walk With Me Read online

  “Totally,” Cozy sighed.

  “And don’t even get me started on Ken,” Mindy added, shaking her head with disgusted disapproval.

  “Oh, I know, huh?”

  Mindy laughed. “Look at us. We’re only twenty-one, and we’re already talking about the good old days.”

  “That’s because we need to get lives,” Cozy suggested, still smiling.

  “Yeah. Working at the café doesn’t lend itself to too much free time,” Mindy sighed. “And then you spend the rest of your time digging the guts out of walnuts and painting them.”

  Cozy shrugged. “There’s nothing else to do,” she said. “Sometimes it seems like all the old-school masculine types I daydream about disappeared about the same time Barbie’s chest got smaller. You know?”

  “Yeah. But I think it’s more like they’re just—you know—hidden. Like they’re here…but it’s just not as obvious as it used to be, and you have to look harder for them.”

  Cozy nodded. “Kind of like those hidden picture books where you have to find the guy in the red-and-white striped shirt.”

  “Exactly!” Mindy affirmed. “Or those pictures you have to stare at and go cross-eyed over before you see the three-dimensional thing.”

  Cozy glanced at the clock on Mindy’s microwave. “Oh! I’ve gotta go. I told Grandma I’d be over by four.”

  “Okay,” Mindy said, offering a friendly embrace. “Have fun. Enjoy your peace and quiet.”

  “Oh, I will,” Cozy said, returning Mindy’s hug.

  “And look at it this way. You’re almost done with walnuts for this year,” Mindy chirped.

  “I know!” Cozy sighed. “I can hardly stand to eat them anymore…though I still like my Grandma’s banana nut bread.”

  “Oh, me too. That stuff is heaven!”

  Cozy smiled and headed for the door. “Okay. I’ll see you at work.”

  “For sure. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Cozy giggled as she hurried toward her car. Mindy was always so funny. She loved the random venue their conversations often took. The truth was Cozy liked close, intimate relationships. She wasn’t one to sit around wishing she had tons of casual friends. She liked her family—even if her siblings did drive her crazy sometimes—her mom and dad, her grandparents. Beyond that, Cozy Robbins had always been happiest with just a few loyal, cherished friends. She valued her relationships with those she loved and was perfectly content in them—almost perfectly content anyway. There was one other relationship she longed for: the romantic kind, the passionate love kind. Still, she tried not to obsess over it. After all, she was getting a good education and planning for her future. She just wished there was someone she could share that future with—and not just anyone—the right one.

  Oh, Cozy had certainly heard a ton of lectures on not setting her sights on, or expecting to find, just her one and only meant-to-be soul mate—and in truth, she thoroughly believed two people could fall in love without having been predestined to do so. Yet in the deepest feelings of her own heart, she knew she was different. Cozy knew that the man she needed—the man who would make her happiness complete—needed to be of a similar character as she. Not that he shouldn’t be social—it was important that he was—but she needed a man who didn’t hold his social life as his highest priority. She wanted to be his priority—because she knew he would be hers. Though she was very guarded about the true feelings of her heart, Cozy knew that when she fell in love—really fell in love—the love she owned would be overpowering, almost debilitating in a way. And love like that needed reciprocation. Her parents were that way—seemed absolutely made for each other—and that’s what Cozy wanted. It was what she needed. She had never verbalized her feelings on the matter to anyone other than her Grandma Robbins. It was a secret understanding of herself that she kept safely hidden away, for it was just the type of thing to spur teasing from others. She doubted most people would even understand the depth of her emotions on the matter. They’d certainly say she didn’t have enough experience or was too young to understand the reality of it all. But Cozy knew the truth—because Cozy had always known exactly who she was.

  As she drove over the bridge spanning the river, she noticed that in just the few days since she’d last seen her Grandma, the leaves of the cottonwood trees had turned wholly gold. They were beautiful! She would need to take a walk down by the river that very week if she wanted to enjoy their brilliance before the first freeze settled in and tainted the cottonwood leaves’ bright gold to dull brown.

  She turned on the car radio and smiled when she heard that 95.1 FM had begun to play Christmas music already. Sure, it wasn’t even mid-November yet, but Cozy didn’t mind. Grouchy old humbugs did, but she didn’t. To Cozy Robbins, Christmas was something that should be considered, appreciated, and enjoyed throughout the year. And besides, it was a wonderful scene to behold, driving beneath a canopy of fresh yellow leaves with Mannheim Steamroller’s rendition of “Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabelle” wafting through the car.

  ❦

  “Grandma?” Cozy called as she closed the front door behind her. She inhaled a deep breath, bathing in the warm, inviting scent of banana nut bread baking in the oven. “Grandma? Are you in here?”

  “Cozy!” her grandma called in a loud whisper. “I’m in the kitchen. Hurry!”

  Cozy frowned, and her heart leapt as worry consumed her for a moment. Yet as she hurried to the kitchen to find her grandma kneeling at the window that faced the new neighbor’s yard and peering out with a pair of binoculars, she exhaled a sigh of relief.

  “Grandma! You’re still spying on him?” she giggled.

  “Get down! They’ll see us. Get down!” Dottie ordered in a whisper, waving one hand in a gesture that Cozy should duck.

  Giggling with amusement at her grandma’s latest antics, Cozy dropped to her hands and knees and crawled toward the window.

  “Who’ll see us?” she asked.

  “Here,” Dottie whispered, pausing only long enough to reach for a second set of binoculars sitting on the nearby counter. “These are for you.” She smiled at Cozy and winked as a grin of mischief spread over her face. “And now, may I present the entertainment for this evening—Mr. Buckly ‘Hunk of Burning Love’ Bryant…and company.”

  “And company?” Cozy asked, accepting the binoculars. Slowly she rose to her knees, peering through the binoculars as she began to adjust them. Mr. Bryant came into focus. He was raking more leaves, but this time he had assistance. Cozy felt her mouth drop open—audibly gasped at the sight of the man helping him.

  “I know!” Dottie whispered. “Va va va voom, right?”

  “Holy cow!” Cozy exclaimed as she adjusted the binoculars further. “Who is that?”

  “I have no idea,” Dottie answered. “But he’s something you don’t see every day, right? I knew you’d like him.”

  Cozy watched as the man, much younger than Mr. Bryant, picked up another piece of wood and set it on a chopping stump. Adeptly wielding an ax, he split the wood right down the middle. Cozy watched as he picked up the newly split pieces of firewood and tossed them aside. He then retrieved another large piece of wood and repeated the process.

  The man splitting the wood had discarded his shirt somewhere, providing a perfect view of the sculpted muscles of his back and arms to Cozy and her grandma. His jeans were worn, as were his work boots. He wore a baseball cap with the bill turned backward.

  “Is he cute?” Cozy asked her grandma in a whisper.

  “Cosette Robbins!” Dottie giggled. “What kind of a question is that? Isn’t it obvious that he’s cute?”

  Cozy adjusted the binoculars again as she peered out through the window to the man chopping wood next door. “I can’t see his face. Who cares if he’s all muscles and stuff if he isn’t cute?”

  At that moment, however, the man turned, removing his cap and raking a hand through his dark hair. Cozy and her grandmother gasped in unison as they gazed at the handsome face of the
muscular woodchopper.

  “Like I said…va va va voom!” Dottie whispered.

  “Add a double voom to that, Grandma,” Cozy agreed with a giggle. She paused, still smiling as she asked, “How long have you been spying on them, Grandma?”

  Dottie shrugged. “About ten minutes, I guess.” She exhaled a breathy laugh. “I was waiting for my second batch of banana bread to finish when I happened to glance out the window and see them out there working. It’s killing my knees, of course…but some things are worth the pain.”

  “Wait a minute,” Cozy said then, looking to her grandma. “Do you mean to tell me you haven’t been over there yet? I thought you were going to bake banana bread a couple of days ago and take it over.”

  Dottie looked to her granddaughter and shrugged. “I couldn’t get up the nerve,” she confessed. “But I figured, since you were going to be over here tonight…we could go together.”

  “What?” Cozy exclaimed. “Grandma! I am not going over there. Not while Mr. Sexy Flexy is visiting.”

  “Oh, come on, Cozy,” Dottie said. “We’ll just take the banana nut bread over—you know, like you said we should—as a housewarming sort of welcome-to-the-neighborhood offering, and then we’ll just be on our way.”

  “I said you should take banana nut bread over…not we,” Cozy reminded. “Anyway, he’s your neighbor, not mine.”

  “Oh, come on, Cozy,” Dottie said, returning her attention to the men in the backyard next door. “Don’t you want to get a real good look at that young man? Anyway, you know what they say. What’s good for the grandma is good for the granddaughter.”

  “That’s not what they say, Grandma,” Cozy argued, peering through her own binoculars once more.

  “Well, it still applies here.”

  “The only thing that applies here is that we’re acting like stalkers,” Cozy mumbled as she watched Mr. Bryant talking to the young man. “Besides, they’re out in the backyard working. How dumb would it look for us to just walk up and say, ‘Hi! Here’s some banana nut bread’?”

  “We’ll wait until they go in…then we’ll go over there,” Dottie answered.

  “What are we supposed to do until then? Kneel here just staring out the window at them?”

  Dottie looked to Cozy, smiling. “Do you have something better to do? I thought you were coming over to relax. What’s more relaxing than a stakeout?”

  Cozy giggled and shook her head. “Well, I’ll say this, Grandma. You’re a whole lot more fun than most grandmas I know.”

  “Thank you, sweet pea,” Dottie said, adjusting her binoculars. “Oh, look! My hunk of burning love is back to raking leaves, and your sexy flexy is helping him.” They were both silent for a moment as they studied the goings-on in the neighbor’s yard. “Hmmm. Do you think Mr. Bryant hired him or that he’s a relative?”

  “He looks too young to be Mr. Bryant’s son,” Cozy offered. “But then again…you never know.”

  At that very moment, both men turned to look in the direction of Dottie’s house—in the direction of the very kitchen window where Cozy and her grandmother kneeled in spying.

  “Oh, shoot!” Dottie exclaimed as she quickly ducked down below the windowsill.

  Cozy gasped and ducked too. “Do you think they saw us?” she asked. “How embarrassing!”

  But Dottie shook her head. “No. We were quick enough.” She smiled, then giggled, and burst into laughter.

  Cozy couldn’t help but laugh too. It was absurd! The whole thing was goofy, and Cozy and her grandmother continued to laugh themselves to tears.

  When they finally did settle down, Dottie sighed, “Oh, my sweet baby girl! I haven’t laughed like that for so long. It felt wonderful.”

  “It did,” Cozy agreed, wiping the tears from her eyes. She looked to her Grandma and hugged her where they sat on the floor in the kitchen under the window. “I needed a good laugh too.”

  The oven timer began to sound, and Cozy helped her grandma to her feet. “We’ll let the new loaves cool for an hour or two, and then we’ll take them over to Mr. Bryant. If we’re lucky, maybe his company will still be there too.”

  “Grandma—” Cozy began to argue.

  “Meanwhile,” Dottie interrupted, however, “I picked up some new crackle-glass votives for you, angel. You are going to love these new ones. They are so pretty!”

  “You didn’t have to buy any more for me, Grandma,” Cozy said. “I don’t even have a place of my own. You shouldn’t—”

  “Oh, you have to have them, Cozy,” Dottie argued. “And besides…you’ll have a place of your own someday. And a girl can never have too many crackle-glass candle implements.”

  “But—”

  “And don’t worry, I picked up plenty for Ashley and Mayree too. Oh, and some I think your mother will die for.”

  Cozy sighed and shook her head. There was no stopping her grandmother when she put her mind to something. And besides, Cozy did love crackle glass. To her, there was almost nothing in the world as serene as sitting in a cozy room with the lights off and nothing but the flicker of the candles in crackle-glass votive and pillar holders. To Cozy, crackle glass lent an atmosphere of mystery to the ambiance of a comfy room. The process of immersing molten hot glass into cold water to purposely crack it was a centuries-old craft. Glassblowers then reheated the glass to mold it into the desired shape and seal the cracks. It was a fascinating process to Cozy, and the end result was one of her very favorite things to enjoy. She preferred to set several crackle-glass votives on her nightstand next to the wall at night. That way, as the candle flame flickered inside, the cracks in the glass cast lacy shadows on the wall. It was beautiful. So even though Cozy had begun to scold her grandma for buying more of the lovely novelty votives for her, she was glad she had, for her grandma was right—a girl could never have too many crackle-glass implements.

  “Now, these are yours,” Dottie began, separating several small boxes from a pile of others in the center of the table. “You’ll love this design! Pinecones and fir sprigs with gold embellishments.”

  Cozy smiled as she opened one of the boxes. Her grandma was so darling—so very precious. She thought of having entered the house to find her staking out the new neighbor. What a jewel! She sighed, thinking the least she could do was to find the courage to help her meet Mr. Bryant—the hunk of burning love, as her Grandma called him. A little wave of anxiety rolled her in stomach at the thought of meeting whoever the young man helping him with his yard work was, however. She hoped the half-naked woodchopper was gone by the time the banana bread had cooled.

  “And just look at this, Cozy!” Dottie exclaimed as she unwrapped a stemmed votive holder. “Isn’t it just gorgeous?”

  “It’s beautiful,” Cozy agreed as she studied the beautiful piece of glasswork. “Thank you so much, Grandma. You know I love them, don’t you?”

  Dottie smiled. “Of course! No matter how you argue with me about buying them for you…I know you love when I do.”

  Cozy giggled as her grandma handed her another votive holder to inspect.

  ❦

  “Grandma…I-I don’t really want to do this,” Cozy whispered as Dottie reached out to ring Mr. Bryant’s doorbell several hours later.

  “Of course you do,” Dottie whispered in return. “After all…it was your idea.”

  Cozy rolled her eyes. She could only hope the naked woodchopper had left. She and her grandmother had gotten busy with Thanksgiving and Christmas plans and had completely forgotten to spy out the window to see if he’d left the house after helping Mr. Bryant in his backyard.

  Her breath caught in her throat, however, as Mr. Bryant’s front door opened to reveal none other than the handsome woodchopper standing before them. At least he was now wearing a T‑shirt—and Cozy was glad of it.

  “Hello,” Dottie said, offering a hand to the super-handsome young man.

  The man grinned and shook her grandma’s hand. “Hello,” he greeted. His voice was deep and rich, lik
e liquid cloves.

  “I’m Dottie Robbins,” Dottie began, “and this is my granddaughter Cozy. We’ve come to welcome Mr. Bryant to the neighborhood.”

  “Well, that’s really nice,” the man said, smiling. “Come on in. I’ll go get him.”

  “Thank you,” Dottie said.

  Cozy followed her grandmother into the house and forced a nervous grin when the handsome woodchopper smiled at her and said, “Hi there.”

  “Hi,” she managed.

  “Have a seat, ladies,” the man said. “He’s just in the back.” The man turned then, calling, “Grandpa…you’ve got company.”

  As the man strode away down the hallway, Dottie whispered, “Grandpa, is it? Well, that makes more sense than anything in the entire world, doesn’t it? Did you see those baby blues on that boy?”

  “Yes,” Cozy whispered. She certainly had seen the man’s eyes. They were fascinating—exactly the color of a cloudless October sky.

  “The apple usually doesn’t fall too far from the tree…even grand-apples, I guess,” Dottie whispered.

  “They’re going to hear you, Grandma!” Cozy scolded in a giggle. For all her nervousness, she was excited too. It would be fun to see her Grandma interact with Mr. Bryant—not to mention how enjoyable it would be to steal another peek at his handsome woodchopping grandson.

  “It’s a very tidy home…especially for an older, single man,” Dottie commented as she glanced about the entryway and into the family room to their left.

  Cozy followed her gaze, smiling when she saw a warm fire burning in the hearth in the comfortable-looking room.

  Mr. Bryant appeared then, smiling at Cozy’s grandmother as he approached. “Well, good evening there, Mrs. Robbins,” he greeted. “I was hoping we’d run into one another again soon. I almost sent Jesse over to borrow a ladder this afternoon, but he found mine buried out in the garage.”

  Cozy’s own smile broadened, for it was obvious the man was sincerely pleased at seeing her grandma.

  “Well, I’m glad you found yours, Mr. Bryant,” Dottie began, “but you feel free to borrow anything you need from me. That’s what neighbors are for, after all.”