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She only hadto go and touch me. It wasn’t sexual. It was nothing more than casual, friendly human contact when she laid her hand on my forearm and sent sparks flying through me. But apart from my family, most notably my mom and my niece, Eve, who might be single-handedly responsible for not letting my heart wither away completely, I haven’t made physical contact with a human in a really long time. Certainly not an attractive woman. I never stopped to calculate how long it’s been until Molly… a good five years, I suspect.
After the incident with my dad at fourteen, I pulled away from people farther than I already was. I tried to have casual sex, drink-fueled one-night stands. The debauchery of my early twenties was something that carried on longer than it should have from high school. Rebellion and self-destruction was how I responded to my dad dying. Everyone has their own way with grief.
Me? I was the first guy to get a tattoo in high school, hell, nearly first in my family. My mom was furious I found someone to give me one at fifteen and even more upset I didn’t try to hide it.AndI ignored her pleas to not get more until I was old enough to understand the permanence. As if I don’t understand permanence. I learned permanence in the most brutal way possible and I’ll never forget it.
The girls in high school saw me as the bad boy and took chase like girls do. But those girls turned into women. Many of them are married now, and the ones that aren’t, I’ve known them for too long. It’s not a one-night stand to them. It’s a hopeful evening, and I’m not in the business of breaking hearts. Not when I know full well how deep that shit hurts and how the torture lasts a lifetime.
Since I’ve always been the reserved type, it wasn’t too hard to slip into this loner lifestyle.
But when Molly touched me this morning, something inside me woke up. Something I need to tread down on with a very firm boot.
Stepping into the barn with the sunrise behind me, I was already swatting away fluttering creatures in my gut at the thought of seeing her, she only had to be singing with that adorable, child-like voice. She only had to be dancing around cute and sweet, enjoying her work, different from how I do, but just as much. I only had to go and notice her coat was low-quality and her shabby synthetic cowboy boots would never withstand a winter here.
I try to ignore my detailed observations, but Molly’s pearly smile, her tiny hand scribbling on that notepad, the way her hair fell down onto her cheek, and how she trailed it back played out in memorable slow motion. I swear I could smell her strawberry-mint shampoo, too, when she leaned in to inspect Hound Dog’s eye. I don’t even remember glancing at her while we examined him, but somehow, I still see her round brown eyes, all focused and motivated.
And all of these images followed me back up to the apartment. When I hopped in the shower, I could still feel her hand on my forearm, as if it reached right through all that padded leather and right to my skin.
And now I’m stuck here all alone, wanting to go to sleep, but my thoughts race. Work is the only way for me to escape my tendency to overthink. Being in the elements, caring for something other than myself, keeps me present. But all I’ve got to do now after this Molly encounter is make some food, and that kind of work isn’t strenuous enough to take my mind off things.
I get some eggs out of the fridge and set them on the counter. Butter. When I clatter around for a frying pan, my cell bleeps. It’s my sister.
Jojo
MOLLY JUST TOLD ME YOU APPROVED HER SLEIGH IDEA! THIS IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN. CAN I HAVE A FREE RIDE, OR ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME PAY?
I know Molly and Jolie are friendly. In Molly’s May proposal she mentioned setting up vet-led workshops held by my sister. I knew those two were in cahoots somehow but I didn’t know they were close enough for Molly to tell my sister about her every move right after it happened.
Me
I’M SURE WE CAN FIGURE OUT A BARTER.
Jojo
THAT’S WHY I’M TEXTING. HORSES ARE READY AT DANES’ RANCH. MAYBE I CAN OFFER YOU A VETTING AND WE ALL GO OVER TOGETHER? BUT YOU WILL OWE ME A SLEIGH RIDE!
I put the eggs back in the fridge and pop a piece of bread in the toaster. This is just what I need right now. Distraction. The Danes and Hunters go way back. James Dane was my dad’s best friend, and Monica Dane still hangs out with my mom on the daily. Ashton plays professional hockey on the same team as my brother, Logan, and Jolie fits in there somewhere, too. I suspect she’d like thatsomewhereto be on Ashton’s lap.
Or maybe that teenage crush was squashed by time, distance and Ashton’s hideous now ex-wife.
Me
COOL. I’LL BE AT BIRD’S EYE IN THIRTY IF THAT WORKS.
Jojo
LOGAN AND I WILL PICK YOU UP OVER THERE. I WANT TO SAY CONGRATS TO MOLLY IN PERSON. SHE’S REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS, DASH. DON’T YOU DARE DRIVE HER INSANE. THIS MEANS MORE TO HER THAN YOU KNOW.
Making Molly’s day was not my intention. Making money, making the right business moves, was all I wanted. All Ineedto do. Still, being told Molly is happy and I had something to do with it makes my heart flutter. I send a grumble through my chest, hoping to squash it.
But as I eat my toast, this does feel like a whole lot more than turning a profit for me, too. A sleigh. Draft horses. I don’t want the tourists who come along with them, but I do love a draft horse, and the Danes have some of the most beautiful ones around.
Since helping my friend, Mateo, on the Danes’ ranch years ago, I haven’t been around a Clydesdale or Belgian. My dad would have loved this idea.
And Molly’s the one who brought it to his ranch.
* * *
Before we load into Logan’s SUV, my brother and sister take a good half hour shooting the shit with Molly in the tack room. I wait, throwing sticks for my dog, Memphis. I’m not going back near Molly just so I can fixate on another likable thing about her.
