She reappeared, definitely on a mission. Usually she looked angelic with her white curls and pink cheeks. But when she got a bee in her bonnet, as Auntie Kat liked to say, she was a force of nature.
“Look at this.” She held out the phone. “There’s more than one. Scroll through them all. And then tell me you’re not ready to be his father.”
“Yes, ma’am.” They’d all learned at an early age that when Grandma Doris took that tone, they’d better do as she said or there’d be hell to pay. They’d suddenly find themselves assigned to the nastiest chores on the ranch.
She’d taken a ton of pictures. He flipped through them and handed back the phone.
She refused to take it. “Go through them again, please. Slowly.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bracing himself, he focused on each frame. He couldn’t argue with her conclusion. Any stranger who saw these shots would assume he was the dad of this serious little boy.
She’d even taken a video of Tex watching him pull off every blessed strip of tape the kid had stuck on the wrapping for Rance’s book. The video continued, recording his pleasure at seeing the book’s cover and Tex jumping up and down with joy. Pure joy.
His throat tightened.
“You love him.”
He nodded.
“Do you love her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself.”
He glanced up. “You can’t fall in love that fast.”
“Oh, no? Your father did with Raquel.”
“And look what happened!”
“What do you mean? It all worked out. They had a wonderful?—”
“And then he died!”
“Is that what you’re afraid of? Is that why you’re backing off?” She made air quotes.
“No. I mean, yes, but it’s taking on the responsibility of a family that makes me nervous. I’m not ready for that.”
“Hm. Care to elaborate?”
“The way I see it, you do your best, and your family comes to depend on you, and then you die and pull the rug out from under them. I don’t want to put Zinnia and Tex through that. Or anyone.”
“You’re planning to stay single?”
“For now. Maybe someday I’ll change my mind, but at this stage, it’s not for me.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, just gazed out toward the pasture where the horses grazed, tails flicking away random flies as they savored new grass and warm sunlight.
Finally she turned and picked up a sticky bun. “I’m having one of these. Kat can just suck it.”
“What?”
“She’s on us a lot about our diet and she’s right. We’ll all live longer and be healthier because of her, but sometimes you just need a sticky bun.”
“True.” He followed her lead. “If everyone swore off sticky buns, Greta would go out of business.” Maybe their conversation about Zinnia and Tex was over.
“Exactly. If you don’t pig out, you’ll be okay. I also need to ditch this coffee and get a refill.”
