by Violet Howe
Cody lay in his place, watching me and the puppies with wide eyes, his tail wagging each time I made eye contact with him.
“Y’all okay back here?” Dax asked as he exited the truck. “Everybody survive the ride? Gracefully?”
I laughed. “That is the most graceful ride I’ve ever taken in the back of a truck.”
“I’m glad the bar wasn’t set too high.”
He held out his hand and I grabbed it, bracing for the current I knew I’d feel when we touched. Despite the cold chill of the night air, warmth flowed through me as he tightened his hand around mine.
He pulled me forward to the edge of the tailgate and before I could jump down, he placed his hands on my waist to pick me up.
When he’d lifted me from standing to sitting, it was a swift motion that held no contact other than his hands on my coat. But from a seated position, Dax needed to edge forward between my knees to have leverage to pick me up.
His eyes caught mine and held there, and for a moment, time stopped. His breathing slowed, and the heat generated in the space between the two of us almost made me envy him for not having the heavy layer of a coat.
The pressure of his touch tightened, and he slid my weight forward as he stepped back, standing me on the ground with my back against the tailgate.
His hands lingered at my waist, nothing at all like the fast retreat they’d made before, and I didn’t dare look up at him because I feared the desire raging inside me would be mirrored in his eyes.
Cody wasn’t nearly as enamored of the moment as Dax and I were. He grumbled and shifted his weight, sending a clear signal to his owner that he was ready to leave the truck no matter how long we wanted to stand there.
The moment was gone, and Dax took another step back, taking his hands away from me even as I longed for them to stay.
“Cody, down.”
The dog complied immediately, and I watched Dax as he covered the puppies back up in the blanket. When he’d gathered them and wrapped them up, he placed them in my arms, his eyes on mine as his hands brushed against my skin on his way out from under the bundle.
“Okay, old girl,” he said, and I blinked, startled. “Let’s get you out of this truck and settled into some warm hay.”
I was relieved when he turned to face the mama dog as he talked, and I chuckled at my original thought that he meant me.
He lifted her into his arms and moved past me toward the barn, flipping the light switch with his elbow as we entered with me as close behind him as possible so the little family wouldn’t think they’d been separated.
He led us past several stalls, and I nodded at the horses we passed along the way, each of them standing with noses out toward us, curious to see who was moving in.
I eyed Kratos with a more wary glance, but he turned away from us, perhaps deciding we weren’t worth his interest.
Dax stopped in a stall at the rear of the barn, laying the mama dog in the nest of hay on the floor.
“There you go,” he said. “Rest now with your babies.”
I knelt beside her and laid the blanket on the ground, opening it so the pups could make their way home.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “I need to get her some food and water.”
Cody followed him as he walked away, and I glanced around me at the horses’ inquisitive stares before tucking the blanket under the mama and babies to ensure their warmth.
“Dinner is served!” Dax returned, bending to place a bowl of dog food on the hay and then kneeling to put a bowl of water beside it. “You hungry? Thirsty?”
He ran the back of his hand along the top of her head, and she nuzzled him. He scooped up a handful of water and drizzled it over her mouth, and she responded.
It didn’t take her long at all to rouse herself enough to get to the water bowl. She drank long and hard, and I wondered how long it had been since she’d had water.
She rubbed her wet muzzle against Dax’s jeans and then took a hesitant bite of the food he held as the puppies clamored around her, trying to nurse even as she was attempting to feed herself.
“She seems to be standing fine,” Dax said. “I’d like to see her walk a few steps so I can tell if she’s limping, but I’ll leave her alone for now. Let her eat.”
“Maybe it was because she was hungry and tired. Dehydrated.” I reached to pat her back, and she looked over her shoulder at me before continuing her meal.
“Speaking of hungry,” Dax said as he stood, “I’m starving. I know it’s technically your turn and all, but I’ve got a pot of chili that’s been simmering all day. Would you like a bowl?”
He offered his hand to help me stand, and I ignored the offer and stood on my own.
“No, thank you. I should head back.”
I brushed the hay off my pants as I walked to the barn entrance and realized I was still wearing the black boots.
“Oh. My shoes. I was about to wear these home!”
He gave a little chuckle and retrieved my heels from the shelf by the door.
“You sure you don’t want to stay and eat?” He leaned against the door of a stall and watched me struggle to remove the boots. “I make a mean bowl of chili. Beats driving the hour or so back to Orlando to eat. Trust me, there’s nothing between here and there.”
I wanted to stay. I wanted to ask questions and get answers and spend more time listening to him talk. But fear had reared its ugly head and reminded me not to get too close.
“I’ll be fine until I get home. But thanks.”
He stood up straight and stretched again, covering a yawn with his hand.
“Besides,” I added, “it looks like you need to get some sleep.”
“Not before I eat! At least let me make you a bowl to take with you. You can eat it when you get home. I guarantee you’ll say it’s the best chili you’ve ever tasted.”
I hadn’t even thought about dinner before he mentioned it, but once he brought up chili, hunger pangs gripped my stomach. I reasoned that it couldn’t hurt to take a bowl to go.
“Okay, that would be nice. Thank you.”
He led me through a hallway and into a larger section of more stalls, but there were only a couple of horses there.
We continued to the back of the barn, and I had begun to think maybe he had a loft apartment upstairs. Instead, he pulled open a wide sliding door to reveal a fifth-wheel travel trailer parked behind the building. There was a hammock tied from the camper to a small tree near the barn, and a long, wooden picnic table at the rear of the camper where a grill and wet bar extended from its exterior. A large screen television hung beneath the awning on the side of the camper, and there were two canvas lounge chairs in front of it.
“This is where you live?” I asked, trying not to register shock on my face as I took in the unexpected setting.
“Home sweet home,” Dax said as he swung open the door and climbed the steps to go inside.
The interior was more spacious than I’d expected, with slide-outs on the other side of the camper to expand the living room seating area and dining table. A full kitchen with granite countertops and a center island dominated the space to the left, and I could see a staircase at the end of a short hallway leading to parts unknown. An electric fireplace glowed beneath the large television on the wall where we’d entered.
“Wait. You have twenty-five thousand acres, a barn bigger than most apartment buildings, and a house next door with a master bedroom to die for, but you live here? Behind your barn? In a camper?”
Dax shrugged as he removed the lid from the Crockpot and stirred the chili.
The rich, spicy aroma filled my nostrils, and my stomach growled in response.
“It’s got everything I need, and if I get ready to go somewhere else, I can hitch it to the truck and take it with me.”
He tasted the chili and closed his eyes with a moan before looking at me with that irresistible grin. “You don’t know how lucky you are. This might just be the best batch I’ve ever mad
e.”
I joined him at the kitchen counter and gazed over into the pot, nearly salivating at the smell.
“Maybe I could stay for a quick bite.”
He laughed and reached in the cabinet above us to pull out two bowls.
I turned to survey the room more closely as he busied himself scooping out the chili and gathering the condiments from the refrigerator.
A keyboard sat alongside the sofa, and a guitar was propped against the recliner. Sheet music and notebook paper littered the sofa cushions, and I couldn’t resist the urge to walk over and take a peek at what he’d been playing.
The notes were handwritten, and it appeared from the markings and obvious erasures that he was in the middle of composing a song.
“Do you write music?” I asked, turning to face him.
“I try. Sour cream? Cheese? Green onions?”
“All of the above. What kind of music do you write?”
“Evidently the kind that’s difficult to get right. I write songs all the time, but I never seem to get them exactly like I want them. You want a glass of tea? It’s sweet.”
I laid the paper back on the sofa where I’d found it. “I’ll have water.”
He set the bowls on the dining table, and I debated whether it would be inappropriate to ask him to play.
My mind was reeling from the revelation that the perfectly chiseled, philanthropic, animal-loving cowboy in front of me was also a musician and a writer.
The universe was either being very cruel to me or very kind. It was hard to know which.
“Ice or room temperature?”
“Ice, please. So, you play the keyboard and the guitar?”
He nodded as he held my glass beneath the dispenser in the refrigerator door and filled it with ice.
“You like music? I can turn on the stereo. Have some ambience while we eat?”
I pictured him turning on some cheesy mood music, and suddenly the casual bowl of chili seemed layered with ulterior motives. I wavered for a moment, uncertain if I should stay.
He picked up a remote and aimed it at the shelves in front of him, and I cringed as I waited for the romantic playlist to start. Instead, the familiar strains of AC/DC’s Back in Black filled the room around me.
“Whoa! Too loud. Sorry about that,” he said as he lowered the volume. “Ready to eat?”
I smiled and relaxed once more. I never thought I’d be happy to hear someone play AC/DC as dinner music.
He’d mentioned before that he was starving, and his eagerness to be seated and eat was apparent as he motioned for me to come to the table and pulled the chair out for me. We both pushed it in once I was seated.
“It looks amazing.” I took the paper towel he offered and laid it across my lap, staring at the presentation of chili with a dollop of sour cream, a sprinkling of cheese, and a spattering of green onions.
“We’re using the fancy napkins tonight,” he joked as he tore off a paper towel for himself and then took his seat.
“Well, it is chili.”
“Not just any chili, though. Take a bite. Go ahead. You’ll see.”
I plunged the spoon in and blew at the steam that rose from the bite I gathered, making eye contact with Dax as I put it in my mouth. His eyes were bright with anticipation, and he leaned forward with his elbows on the table as he waited to hear my verdict.
An explosion of flavors hit my taste buds as I savored it on my tongue. The pungency of cumin, the bite of cayenne, and the bitter tang of sour cream, with a blend of more spices that mixed perfectly with the tomatoes and beans.
“Well? What do you think?” His smile lit up his whole face, and even had it not been the best chili I’d ever eaten, I wouldn’t have said anything to disappoint him and diminish that smile.
I nodded and wiped my mouth with the paper towel. “I think…that’s probably the best damned chili I’ve ever had.”
He slapped the table and laughed. “I knew it! I told you. I’ve been first runner-up for the past three years at the ranch’s chili cook-off. But this recipe—” he pointed to the bowl with his spoon before digging in “—this recipe is the winner. Mark my words, I’m taking home the trophy this year.”
I swallowed the second bite and nodded again. “I think you’re right. Of course, I haven’t tried the competition, but they’d have to be pretty good to beat this.”
“Oh, crackers. I forgot crackers. You want some? I don’t do crackers in my chili, so I forget other people like it. I have them.”
He pushed back his chair, but I waved my hand at him, covering my mouth while I chewed and swallowed.
“No, thank you. I’m enjoying it just the way it is.”
We ate in silence for a few more bites, and then there was a knock at his door.
“Come on in,” he shouted, not even bothering to get up to see who it was first.
I was surprised to see Bronwyn enter, and she appeared equally surprised to see me.
“Ms. Shaw, Tyler has been calling you. She’s awful worried that she hasn’t heard from you. She left me several messages but I was in my night class and he doesn’t allow us to have our phones out. I saw your car in the drive when I came to pick up the contract.”
My hand went to my throat as I stood. “I’m so sorry. My phone! I left it in the car. I didn’t realize…I didn’t…I have to call her. I need to go.”
I moved toward the door, and Dax stood.
“Wait, I’ll put your chili in a plastic bowl. You can take it with you.”
“It’s okay. I need to get on the road. I’m sure Tyler’s worried sick. I’m surprised she and my son aren’t out searching for me.” I turned back to Bronwyn. “They’re not, are they?”
She shook her head. “I called her when I got out of class and told her I’d let her know if the contract was here. And then I called her when I got here and told her your car was parked out front and that I’d call her back when I found you.”
Great. The last thing I needed was for my matchmaking daughter-in-law to find out I’d had dinner with Dax. She’d have our wedding planned before the weekend.
“Where’s your phone, Uncle Dax? I tried to call you, too.”
He had dumped the contents of my bowl into a plastic container and was pressing the lid into place as he walked toward me.
His hand went to his pocket, and he frowned as he handed me the chili. “Must be in the barn. Maybe the truck. I’ll walk Maggie back to her car and see if I can find it.”
Bronwyn nodded, looking back and forth between the two of us, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
I opened my mouth to explain about the puppies so she would know why the two of us were having dinner together, but Dax spoke before I could get the words out.
“Your coat. Don’t forget your coat.” He lifted it from the sofa and held it open for me to put my arms inside. I was so distracted in the moment that I didn’t even think to protest about his help, but when he made to go out the door with Bronwyn and me, I stopped him.
“You don’t have to walk me to my car. I’m sure Bronwyn can show me the way, and your chili’s getting cold. Go eat.”
He smiled, and my body reacted despite the stress.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “It’s the least I can do after you stayed and helped me. It’s my fault you’ve got the APB out on you now.”
Bronwyn’s eyes narrowed, and I knew she was dying to ask, but she refrained.
The three of us walked through the barn and along the drive back up to my car where it was parked in front of the main house. Bronwyn thanked me for bringing the contract and excused herself to go inside and retrieve it, shooting a questioning glance at her uncle as she walked away.
Dax held open my car door and I bent to get my phone from the cup holder.
“Seven missed calls. Five from Tyler and two from Cabe. Oh boy. I’m in trouble.”
He chuckled. “Well, I hope you don’t get grounded, because I’m looking forward to see where you take me for lunch
.”
I looked up at him, his eyes sparkling in the light coming from the lamppost by the garage. My heart was racing, and I felt like a teenager, waiting to see if she might get kissed. My mind scorned the thought, and I turned away from him and sat down in the car, reaching to pull the door shut.
I’d left the window down not realizing how long I’d be gone, and the car was damp and cold with the night air.
Dax leaned forward and braced his hands against the car’s door frame as I turned the key in the ignition and switched the heat on, rubbing my hands together against the chill.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice solemn and thick.
I met his eyes and swallowed hard at the emotion I saw there.
“I had a nice time tonight.” He smiled as he said it, and though his voice had returned to normal, his eyes still held a tinge of sadness.
“Me too,” I admitted. “It was an adventure.”
“Life should always be an adventure.” His grin widened, and he tapped the windowsill with his hand as he stood.
My phone rang in my lap. It was Tyler, and I took a deep breath, not eager to have the inevitable conversation.
“No liver, no raisins, and no fondue,” he said as he backed away from the car. “Drive carefully.”
I nodded and pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer the call, refusing to look at him again as I drove away.
16 MAKING CHOICES
It didn’t take long to assure Tyler I was alive and well, and when she found out I’d been unreachable due to dinner with Dax Pearson, she was nearly beside herself. Her enthusiasm only added to my apprehension.
I called Sandy as soon as I hung up with Tyler, knowing my old friend would understand the panic I was feeling.
“I don’t see the problem,” she said when I’d explained the evening’s activities. “You enjoy his company. You’re attracted to him. He’s obviously attracted to you, but he seems to be taking it slowly and respecting your distance. How is this not the best thing ever?”
So much for understanding.
“Sandy! C’mon. You know I don’t like this dating thing, and you know why I don’t. I need to stay away from this guy, but it’s like the more I see him, the more I want to see him.”
