He smiled. “That's not what I meant. I figured...” He made a sound as if disgusted with himself. “I don't know what I meant.”
“You didn't want to see me.”
She turned around and began spooning food onto the plate again.
“I know you don't understand.”
“You made yourself pretty clear.”
“I don't think I was.”
She swung around and nearly dropped the corn on the cob from her plate. She caught it before it dropped. “If anyone should be surprised, it should be me.” Her voice was low as if she didn't want any of the people she knew to hear her.
“It's for the fire and police department. I thought I should contribute after having them help the way they did. It seemed only right.”
She glanced down at his empty hands. “Contribute how? You eat rations.”
“I don't only eat rations.”
“So you were holding out on me? You actually cook real food?”
“You liked the rations.”
She was fighting a smile. He could tell by the way her cheeks were suddenly tight as her lips pulled against them. “I ate them. I was grateful for them. But if you'd stayed the other night then you would have had some real food.”
“I brought pastries.”
Her eyebrows slid up her forehead. “Homemade?”
“Yes. Not by me though. But Tara said someone in town makes those pastries for her shop.”
“Mrs. Terrier. She's a friend of my grandmother. If you brought them for the bake sale then they're probably gone.”
“Really? They’re that good, huh?”
“You mean you didn't even try one?”
He shook his head.
She turned and went back to her task of filling Scarlett’s plate. “Missed opportunity.”
“I bought some jam.”
“Are we going to talk about food all day?”
“It seems to be the only thing you're interested in talking to me about.”
“I'm not the one who abruptly left the other night when I baked epic lasagna.”
“Epic, huh? Was it good?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t eat any.”
He leaned closer to her and he could smell the sweet fragrance of her soap. “I'd say we could give it another chance. But I know it won't change anything.”
She sighed. “Then let's not. Enjoy the potluck. I have to finish making this plate for...for...” She sighed as if frustrated as she searched for the name she wanted.
“Your grandmother?”
“No. Scarlett. She's a coworker who is manning the desk inside.”
He nodded. “Then I guess you'd better get to it. I'm sure she's hungry.”
“Yes.” She turned away and appeared to be just looking at the table. Maybe she was waiting for him to leave.
“Can we at least have a coffee or an ice cream some time so I can explain?” Nash asked, giving it one more try. He’d hated the way he’d left things. It had been eating at him ever since he’d left her house.
“Why is this so important to you?”
When she turned around, he saw her eyes were moist with tears.
“Because it is. Please.”
She shrugged. “I'm working nights all next week.”
“We can find time. If you really want to.”
He hoped she did. He didn't know why it was important to him, but it was.
“I don’t know. You say it’s not going to change anything.”
He nodded. He wanted to be honest.
“Then let’s just leave it at that. Goodbye, Nash.”
Sweet Montana Rescue: Chapter Eleven
Harper was running, just as her grandmother had said. It wasn't like it was after her parents died. This was different. The hole left inside of her when she realized her parents were gone was never going to heal. She knew that. She’d never give her mother and father a hug again. She’d never be able to call up her mother and tell her about the day she’d had. Her mother was dead.
Nash wasn't dead. Thank God neither of them were. But he was still gone from her life by his choice. He didn't want her. That was a nagging doubt she couldn't ignore.
Despite her being upset with him that night at the house, she understood what he was saying. This feeling was uncomfortable at times. But not in the way that he'd meant. It was uncomfortable for her to know that he was so close, and yet so far away from her.
It had been a week since the potluck and she didn’t feel any better. So as soon as her shift ended, Harper went home and pulled the lasagna she’d put in a container and frozen out of the freezer and shoved it on a foil plate in the oven. She had no idea how this lasagna was going to taste, but Nash had wanted to explain something to her. She just didn’t know what.
She was a glutton for punishment. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going to drive up to the cabin and see him again. But she’d give him his time, eat some lasagna, and then she’d leave. They’d both have closure.
Somehow, it didn't seem that easy. But her grandmother had said that running wasn’t going to change anything. The first thing she'd meet when she'd stop running was the feelings she was running away from. Her grandmother had been right like always. Luckily for her, as the lasagna baked in the oven and started to fill the house with that same aroma that had given her promise to a night she’d longed for with Nash, her grandmother had remained silent about what Harper was about to do.
Harper packed up everything and wrapped it tightly in tinfoil so the food would remain warm on the drive up to the cabin. She made sure to keep a good-sized piece aside for her grandmother. When she was ready to leave, she walked down the hall to her grandmother’s bedroom. The door was open but she still knocked to keep from startling her grandmother who was sitting in her favorite reading chair with a book in her hand. A cozy mystery probably. Her grandmother's favorite. It had been her mother's favorite too.
Her grandmother looked up as she walked in the door.
“I'm going out for bit. I left some lasagna wrapped up on the counter for you
