“If you want to take the dogs around the cabin, there are a couple Adirondacks by the lake. The dogs can play there while we keep our eyes on them. I’ll grab some beers and meet you there.”
With that, Molly returned to the house. She realized she hadn’t introduced herself and she didn’t know the guy’s name. Well, they could take care of that when she returned. She went to her bathroom to wash up and comb her hair. No need for makeup, it wasn’t a date. She slipped on a clean blouse and fussed in front of the mirror for a few minutes. He was handsome and sexy, and she hadn’t been laid for a while, so she could feel the tingling in the right places. What was there not to like about tall, lean, muscular, and very western.
But something didn’t fit the image. He was a curious mix. There were certainly strong elements of cowboy: the dark, tanned, outdoor skin, long, black hair shaggy over the ears, a week’s worth of heavy beard. And the worn blue jeans, buckle belt, western shirt, and vest with silver buttons. Yes, very cowboy. The parts that suggested mountain man were the hat, vest, and moccasins, all leather, and all handmade. But most mountain men had a harder edge: poor grammar, unsightly teeth, shaggy grooming, more crude mannerisms. This man had the rugged outdoor look but with a refined finish. Was it just the piercing blue eyes and perfect white teeth? No, he spoke like an educated man—complete sentences, proper grammar, articulate. That was the difference; an air of refinement in a rustic package. Hmm, an unusual combination. She gave herself a final once over in the mirror and headed to the kitchen, gathering her supplies from the floor. She could finish the clean up later.
She put six beers in a cooler with ice. She was planning to drink at least two, so she might as well be prepared. She debatedon a platter but decided against. She threw in a wedge of cheese, a round of salami, and a knife and plate just in case. She could always make it there. She was in the mood for a cold beer and it was late Saturday afternoon, just in time for happy hour.
She walked out the back door and down the path to where he was sitting in one of her chairs with a view of the lake. The dogs were running around, but still visible. Molly wasn’t going to let Shadow out of her sight again. Geez, how did this happen the very week she was scheduled for her first breeding session?
She plopped down in the chair next to her guest.
“I’m Molly McGuire.” She extended her hand.
“Bart McKinnon.” He shook her hand.
“How’s Brett?”
“You’re going to laugh.”
“Why?”
“My brother’s name actually is Brett.”
“Your parents watched Maverick.”
“My grandparents watched the originals. My parents watched the reruns. Brett and I paid the price.”
She reached in the cooler and pulled out two Republic IPAs, popping the top off both, and handed one to Bart.
Molly lifted her bottle for a toast, “To Bear and Shadow.”
The bottle necks clinked and they both took deep drinks. Then Molly took another long, deep drink. She was hot, tired, and needed separation from work. Her bottle half empty, she noticed his was the same. Glad she brought three bottles.
He pointed to the dogs. Molly looked over to see a lot of sniffing. Oh boy, they were ready again.
Her voice was stern, “Shadow, come here.”
Shadow looked at her master with pleading eyes that said, “Please, master, not now. I’m busy.”
Molly repeated the command, and Shadow obediently came over and sat next to her. Molly turned to Bart, “Sorry to have to ask this, but does Bear have papers by chance?”
Bart chuckled. “Well, I don’t have them, and I don’t know what they say but, yes, he has papers somewhere.”
“Did you get papers when you bought him?”
“Didn’t really buy him.”
“How’d you get him?”
“He was a trade with my sister.”
“Okay, can you tell me about it?”
“What do you want to know?”
“I just want to know everything that got said.”
He put the bottle up and emptied it, and Molly did the same, pulling out two more beers, popping the tops and handing him one.
