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I swallow. “I’ll pay you double what I normally pay and–”
Dolly’s face falls into serious territory, and my stomach twists into knots. If she already has plans–
“You will not pay me,” she breathes, keeping her voice calm while her eyes grow stormy. Feet bare, she steps closer toward me as Bear clings to her leg now instead of mine. “We love hanging out. Your money's no good here.”
Canvases and paint. I’ll repay her in canvases and paint, and that thick cardstock she buys online to make her cards from. Whatever it is, I’ll find a way to repay her for her generous heart.
“Thank you,” I reply, surprised at how soft the words come out. I clear my throat. “We already went to the creek,” I tell her, more so Bear can hear it as much as Dolly knows it. “So no more creek today.”
She raises her palms, smiling innocently, her golden hair falling in natural waves around her face. Bear’s always loved Dolly. I take in the smattering of freckles that journey along the apples of her cheeks and down the bridge of her nose, and her wide eyes and the soft dip in her voice when she shows him affection. I get it. Dolly is gorgeous, seemingly from the inside out.
And she’s an artist. Kids love art.
I do, too. But as a rancher, it’s not often I have time to take in art and its beauty. Thankfully, I find beauty all around me. In the crisp, vastness of a cloudless sky, in the unending green that kisses the horizon as the sun rises,and the gentle rasp of Dolly’s voice when she says my name.
“What’s that?” I ask, finding myself playing conversation catch-up as I simultaneously process that I find Dolly’s voice to be beautiful.
She reaches up, and it’s then I consider just how much smaller she is, too. When you’re six feet four inches tall, built to play professional football or be a rancher, dwarfing people is a given. Something I don’t even consider anymore.
But standing over Dolly, the top of her head coming to mid-chest, the difference between us radiates through me, warm and electric. I can only imagine how gentle she needs it…
“Did he already eat, is all I asked,” she says again, smiling, a touch of pink on her cheeks.
“Uh, no, no he hasn’t had lunch.” I shove my hands in my jeans to divert the sudden rush of blood to my groin. “Sorry, I was just trying to remember what Ev told me, but uh, no, I don’t recall lunch.”
“I’m hungry!” Bear champions from between us. He reaches up, wiggling his fingers toward… her.
She lifts him easily despite the fact he’s more than half her size. Their gazes come together. “No creek, but lots of paint, and how about peanut butter and marionberry jam?”
Bear wiggles out of her grip, tearing into their house with comfort and familiarity. That brings me peace, knowing I’m leaving my boy next door, at a place he feels safe. It’s second best to him being home.
“Bye, Bear, be good for Dolly,” I call after him, but he’s gone, and I’m suddenly acutely aware that I’m alone with Dolly on the porch, the midday sun dripping over half of herface, making her impossibly more beautiful. “Thanks again,” I say, balling my hands into fists in my pockets.Baseball. Horseshoeing. People who wave you on at a four-way stop when it’s their turn.“I’ll be back around dinner,” I tell her, holding a tight, controlled smile.
“Great,” she replies, her long lashes fluttering. “Have a good day out there, Hudson.”
On my boot, I turn and take the stairs, the distance between our houses feeling nonexistent as I head back with a foggy mind.
Once I’m out on the land for a few minutes, the electricity I’d felt earlier around Dolly all but disappears. Cow shit will do that to you.
It’s been a long time since I was intimate with a woman. Too long. I never planned for it to be this long. I never planned this version of my life, in fact. And maybe that untended urge is all that has me looking at Dolly differently.
I need to get laid.
And more than that, I need to find someone else who can watch Bear now that Ev and Deuce are on the cusp of starting their own lives together. Everly is not going to want to be around with her first child, at my house, watching my son. Deuce won’t want that for her once she’s his wife, either.
I do need someone. More than that, I’m realizing just how much I want someone. Not just for Bear, though for him too. For me.
The thought of trusting anyone as much as I trust Dolly, though, is hard to fathom. I trust her with my son, therefore, my life.
five
I’M CLOSER TO HAVING HIM THAN EVER BEFORE.
Dolly
“How was the creek today?” I ask Bear as he balances atop a barstool at the kitchen counter, his little smock already tied on. I’ve learned in the few years I’ve been watching Bear that as soon as you are in possession of a little kid, you need to protect their clothing.
Eating, coloring, running outside, taking a nap—somehow, all of that is a messy sport to a kid. Wrapping him in a smock the moment the front door closed was a must.
