“Well, hello thar, Pollyanna.” She’d met him when she and Gil had first arrived. He looked lovingly over at his wife, Adela, as he latched on to Polly’s hand. “I was a wonderin’ when you was gonna get back in here.”
Polly was trying to focus, but it was hard because though Sam was small, he had an iron grip. Was that bone grinding? She feared her fingers would fall off when, just in the nick of time, he let go.
“I’ve just been really busy,” she managed to say, fighting off a gasp of relief. Beneath the table she flexed her fingers. They still worked.
“Oh, but, dear,” Adela chimed in, “we would love to help you more.”
“No. You have all done more than enough. Thank you, though. I’m just adding a bit of color to the walls now. I love to paint. I’m giving each room a special technique. Besides, you all did more than enough last week. I can’t thank you enough.”
She planned to pick up paint next week, but first she had yard work to do. Dirt had been delivered the evening before, and she wanted to get her new flower beds started that evening. When she picked up paint, she planned to pick out plants, too.
“Do y’all like to work on flower beds?” she asked. Did they ever! That was all it took for them to launch into the wonders of digging in the dirt. Within minutes plans were made for them to come out the following week and help her with her landscaping. Polly could not believe how blessed she was to live in such a place.
“You girls goin’ ta stop talkin’ long enough to order something to eat?” Sam asked a few minutes later.
“I got some enchiladas fresh out of the oven, though I need to warn you that Cassie helped me fix ’em and she ain’t ever helped me cook before. That young’un’s goin’ ta starve that poor Jake ta death.”
Esther Mae harrumphed. “If anybody can teach her how to cook, it’d be you, Sam. Where is she, anyway?”
“She’s with Dottie and the girls from the shelter getting fitted for her wedding dress and their bridesmaid dresses. I think they’re all crammed into Ashby’s dress store. She was in here early this morning to help me get ready for my Saturday run, and then she was off to get poked and prodded. Her words, not mine.”
Norma Sue explained that they were having Cassie’s wedding in a few weeks. Then the conversation rounded back to their order, everyone deciding to try Cassie and Sam’s enchiladas.
“So where is that sweet boy of yours?” Esther Mae asked. “He’s such a cutie. I love kids. I’m hoping some of these newlyweds decide to give Mule Hollow some babies pretty soon.”
“No rush,” Norma Sue interjected. “A good marriage is set by a firm foundation between newlyweds. Don’t rush them, Esther Mae.”
“I’m not. I just want more babies to take care of.”
“Soon enough, Esther Mae. So where is your boy, Polly?”
“Nate’s giving Gil riding lessons today.”
There was no way for Polly to miss the expressions of covert delight that flashed around the table.
“So, speaking of Nate. How’s that going?”
“Esther Mae,” Adela said softly, but Polly heard a warning in her gentle tone.
“I’m not interfering. I’m just asking if Polly and Nate have, you know, gotten to be friends.”
Polly had known when she moved to Mule Hollow that she was going to come up against the matchmakers, and she was prepared. “I think we could be called friends. But, ladies, truly, don’t set your sights on me. I’m, well, I was married to the most wonderful man in the world…like I told you already, I couldn’t—”
Adela reached across the table and placed her fine-boned hand on Polly’s arm. “It’s all right, dear. We didn’t mean anything. But, like I said, I speak from experience.” She glanced up at Sam as he returned with glasses of iced tea. The love in her blue eyes was unmistakable. “You can love again.”
Maybe so, Polly thought, but there were other issues at play. She had pictures of Marc hanging on the walls of her house and she couldn’t ever imagine taking them down and replacing them with someone else’s image. She had Gil to consider, too. He needed to see Marc’s pictures, and then there would be grandchildren when Gil grew up and married. If she did remarry, her grandchildren would need to know Marc was their grandfather. Needed to hear stories about him. She needed to keep Marc’s memory alive, and if she remarried there would be someone else that her grandchildren would call Granddaddy…Polly had almost as hard a time with that thought as she had with Gil calling another man Daddy.
“Nate’s an incredible man. But I’m fine as I am. Really,” she said firmly.
Sam brought out their plates at that moment and Polly was relieved. But as everyone bowed their heads to say a prayer of thanksgiving, she thought she saw Esther Mae wink at Norma Sue.
Chapter Ten
Polly shoveled dirt from the wheelbarrow and ignored the ache in her back. She wasn’t really a yard person by some people’s standards, but she liked big flower beds with low-maintenance plants that promised to bloom from spring until late fall. She’d always been a busy person, and finicky plants just didn’t fit into her lifestyle. For now, that philosophy would have to work on the grounds of the bed-and-breakfast. But later, maybe next spring when she had her first year behind her, she would stretch herself and really bring this huge yard to life. She could envision arbors and trailing vines and all sorts of nooks in which guests could sit. It felt good thinking about the possibilities.
At the moment she was working on a round bed out in the center of the front yard, where she was going to place a birdbath and surround it with flowers. For now, she was just preparing the soil. Next week she’d actually do the plantings. And she was going to have plenty of advice from the ladies when they came to help. From listening to them, she could tell they knew all the plants that worked best in Mule Hollow’s dry climate. They’d also mentioned they were all going to bring her some things from their own yards. She was really looking forward to that.
“Hey, Mom!”
After his riding lesson, Gil had called to see if he could check cows with Nate. She was startled to see the two of them walking from the backyard.
“We rode Taco to check the cows out there.” He waved his hand, indicating the pastures that stretched behind the house. Polly’s two acres were surrounded by land owned by Nate. There weren’t any cattle in the pasture next to the house. They were out there, somewhere beyond the trees.
“It was getting late and Gil was hungry, so I thought I’d drop him off and bring his bike over tomorrow.”
“That’s great.” Polly swiped at her nose, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She probably had dirt all over her face. A glance down at her tank top and shorts confirmed she wasn’t filthy, but close to it.
“You need any help?” Nate looked from her to the dirt she was spreading out.
“No. I’m fine. So did you have fun?” she asked Gil.
“Yup. Nate says I can help with a roundup one of these days.”
“Oh, did he now?” She cut her eyes sharply at Nate.
Nate put his hands on his hips and looked at her reassuringly. “Not until he’s ready. But you have a natural-born horseman on your hands.”
She’d overreacted, and she gave him a smile of apology. “Sorry. He is a natural athlete.”
“It’s okay. Looks like he takes after you.”
Polly shook her head. “Marc was the real athletic talent in the family. I just like to ride bikes.”
“I’m a chip off the old block,” Gil piped in. “That’s what Grandpa McDonald says. He’s got bunches of pictures and trophies of my dad’s. He says all mine are going to go on the shelf right beside them.”
“You keep working and you’ll be able to add some horsemanship trophies and ribbons to the mix.”
“Awesome.”
From inside the house, a mournful wail came. Polly hadn’t let Bogie out while she was working because she didn’t want him getting underfoot. “Why don’t you go clean up and eat a sandwich? I’m
going to work a little longer.”
She felt a little guilty about the sandwich for supper, but today had been a busy day.
Nate reached for her shovel. “Why don’t you go take care of him and I’ll finish unloading this dirt?”
Polly pulled the shovel out of his reach. “Oh, no. I can do it. Besides, Gil loves to create his own sandwiches. I keep the refrigerator stocked for him.”
Nate grinned at her. “You are a stubborn woman, Pollyanna McDonald.”
Her grip tightened on the shovel handle. She felt a little foolish refusing his help, especially when he was smiling like that. “I can do this.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I said I wanted to help.”
“You want me to bring you a soda when I come back, Nate?” Gil asked. He was grinning, too.
“Sure. If your mom says I can stay.”
Polly looked from one to the other and gave up. “Fine. But get your own tool.”
Nate chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”
Polly watched him stride toward the back of the house like a man on a mission. He’d been in her shed and knew where the assortment of garden tools was.
When he returned, he went to work beside her, shoveling and spreading the dirt. “So, what do you have planned for out here?”
Polly paused to shove hair out of her face with the back of her hand. The wayward strand immediately fell exactly where it had been tickling her damp cheek. It was nearing six o’clock, so it wasn’t as hot as it had been, but she knew her face was probably pink from exertion beneath the dusting of grime. Ignoring her vanity, she met his gaze. “Well, for this year, something as maintenance free as I can get it.” She told him what she had planned and mentioned all the ladies coming out next week.
“Now, that should be interesting,” he said as he handed her his shovel. He grabbed the handles of the empty wheelbarrow and headed toward the dirt pile across the driveway.
“They’re really a lively lot,” she said.
That got her an amused glance. “Now, that’s an understatement.” They both grinned at the truth of his comment. “But they’ve done wonders for Mule Hollow with all their wacky matchmaking schemes, town festivals and theater productions. No telling what they’re going to come up with next. I’d believe anything, though, because I never thought I’d see the day that a bunch of cowpokes would stand up on a stage and sing.”
“Have they tried fixing you up yet?” She watched his expression carefully. She wondered if he suspected that they were trying to now. She also was wondering why on earth she’d brought this up when she was already uncomfortable enough.
His lips flattened and his knuckles whitened on the handles of the wheelbarrow. “I’d think they’d have to be pretty desperate to set their sights on me. Pollyanna—”
“You can call me Polly. It’s a lot shorter.” Why had she said that?
They’d reached the dirt and he’d parked the wheelbarrow now. He took his shovel and settled thoughtful eyes on her. Her heart skidded at the intensity. “I like Pollyanna,” he said gently. “It suits you.”
Polly’s nerves frazzled further and the laugh that escaped her rode on the wings of attraction. The very idea took the wind from her. “And how’s that?” she managed to say, trying to hide her discomfort.
“You make people smile.”
His comment totally took her by surprise. Especially since his expression had changed in an instant and was far from smiling. It made her think he’d just as soon she dropped off the face of the earth when he turned away and plunged his shovel into the dirt with all the force of sledgehammer.
“You don’t have to act so happy about that,” she said. He slid his gaze toward her as he dumped the dirt into the wheelbarrow.
“I bet before your husband died, you really made people smile.”
“If you’re asking if I was different before Marc died, the answer is yes.” She studied Nate’s profile.
“So was I.”
There it was again. The connection. Polly looked away and started working. He did, too. They were two people trying to find their way. Her chest felt tight with emotion.
“Did you get angry?” he asked after a minute.
“Honestly, no. At least not in the sense you’re asking. Everyone told me I should expect it, that I would and that it was a normal progression toward healing. But I didn’t.” The tightness in her chest had eased some. She paused, suddenly wanting to talk. She turned back to face him, glancing at Gil. “There were times when I could feel anger trying to build up inside me. But when that started I reminded myself again of how blessed I’d been and still was to have loved Marc at all.”
Nate held her gaze as he handed her back the shovel. It did things to her insides. Polly took a deep breath to settle her stomach. “God gave me so many blessings. First he gave me a remarkable life with the love of my life. And then he gave me Gil. How could I be mad at God about that?”
Nate lay his hand on Polly’s arm. “Can we continue this later?”
She looked at his hand as a mixture of emotions swirled inside her. “Okay.” She blinked, meeting his gaze and feeling as shaky inside as the smile she gave him. He squeezed her arm and his touch almost scorched her skin, or at least it felt that way. Polly swallowed hard and felt more than a little disturbed by her reaction. Nate turned away and reached for the wheelbarrow just as Gil slid to a halt beside him.
“I got food in my belly so I’m good to go. Can I push that thing?” He held out a grape soda to Nate.
“Hang on to that for me.” Nate chuckled and glanced over his shoulder at Polly, clearly totally unaffected by the touch, she thought. “When we get over there you can help. I loaded this up with almost more than I can handle.”
“Okay,” Gil said, trotting beside Nate, as happy as Polly had ever seen him.
“I may just have to give the young man a job. What do you think about that?”
“A job!” Gil exclaimed. “Woo-hoo! Can I muck out some more stalls?”
“Only Gil would find cleaning out horse stalls fun,” Polly commented.
Nate grinned, and Polly shook herself mentally to shift focus to him and her son. It was one thing for him to offer an occasional afternoon. But a job?
“Only if I can pay you, though.”
“You mean with money?”
“Well, sure, pardner. I’m not going to have you work that hard for nothing. A man needs to be paid for his work.”
Standing beside the flower bed, Polly felt her heart do a spin. Gil’s eyes grew twice their normal size.
“Wow,” he said. “Did you hear that, Mom?”
“I heard. But really, Nate, it’s not necessary.” She hated seeing Gil frown but it was true. She didn’t want Nate thinking he was obligated to have Gil underfoot just because they were neighbors.
“For you, maybe, but I could use some afternoon help every now and again.”
Gil’s smiled bloomed again. Polly bit her lip and held Nate’s gaze. The man was impossible. “Okay, then. But you will not pay him.”
“I certainly will.”
“I pay him an allowance for the chores he does around the house. He doesn’t need your money.”
“These aren’t chores. This is a job, and a man can always use a little extra cash.”
Polly didn’t really appreciate his bucking her on this issue. Gil was her son. She looked at Gil and he was almost pleading with her with his eyes as he hopped from foot to foot in his excitement. She took a deep breath. “What if you paid him in riding lessons?”
“Yeah!” Gil yelped, liking the compromise.
Nate grinned. “Sounds like a winner to me.” He held out his hand to Gil. “Shake on it. I hire your services and will in turn teach you to be a first-rate horseman.”
Gil turned solemn, then put his small hand in Nate’s and shook like a little man. “Sounds like a winner to me,” he said, repeating Nate’s words. And Polly had to fight off an unreasonable wave of jealousy. Not for herse
lf but for Marc. These were life lessons he should have been teaching his son.
She allowed herself to feel the grief for what he was missing, then she pushed it aside and smiled at her son.
He was happy. That was what counted. Nate Talbert was a good man and her son had begun to think the world of him.
Her first impression of Nate had been that he was a stern man with little patience. She’d been wrong. Nate would make a great dad. The thought popped unbidden into her mind.
Someone else’s dad, she tagged onto the thought. Gil was Marc’s son.
Chapter Eleven
“Did you know that Nate used to be in the rodeo?” Gil asked the next morning, looking up at her from where he knelt rubbing Bogie’s belly. They were on the porch and the dog was eating up the attention as he lay sprawled on his back.
Polly fiddled with the strap of her purse and watched Nate pulling up the drive.
She still wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somehow in the course of the evening Gil had invited Nate to go to church with them. Sunday school, then church after, to be more exact. They’d not been to Sunday school yet. Somehow that had turned into Nate picking them up.
“No, I didn’t know that.” But she’d assumed it. She also assumed that before long she would know every detail of Nate Talbert’s life. She would know it because her son couldn’t stop talking about him. And if he spent more time with Nate, she had realized last night as she sat on Gil’s bed and listened to his prayers—which included thanking God for Nate—she was just going to have to get used to it.
Her stomach had a wobbly feel to it as Nate’s truck stopped in front of the house. God had blessed her by making them neighbors, giving Gil the opportunity to have a male influence right next door—what more could she ask? Not just an influence, but a great influence.
Still…
“Hey, Nate,” Gil called, bounding off the porch. Polly followed, feet dragging childishly as Nate got out of the truck. He was dressed in starched gray jeans and a pristine white dress shirt with steel-gray piping in western detailing along the pocket and cuffs. He looked handsome, but when Polly met his eyes she realized something wasn’t right. He looked as troubled as she felt.
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