Chapter 6 #2
“Is it supposed to rain today?” She looked up into the sky as if she hadn’t seen it yet. Clouds filled it, but they didn’t look like the thick, dense, heavy gray ones that would drop gallons of rain in only a few minutes.
“Later, yes,” he said. “I’ve got other work to do outside, so I just need this done.”
So he was going to be Grumpy Gus this morning. Fine. She could play that game for now. She opened the back of her SUV and let the cowboys gather the wood, fencing, and tools they might need.
Shivering, Caroline reached into the back seat to get her jacket, and she quickly thrust her arms into the sleeves as the wind picked up again.
She could wield a hammer and nails, but the cowboys were ten times faster and more capable than her, and it didn’t take long for her to instruct them to build a fence around them with a perimeter of fifteen feet so the owls could still come and go from their new dens.
“There,” she said. “And now it’s up to the owls to decide what they do.” Satisfied, she looked over to Dawson. He had a smudge of dirt on his cheekbone, and he struck her as rugged and sexy as he pulled off his gloves. Lincoln did the same thing, and the two cowboys shook hands.
“I better call Uncle Cactus and get goin’,” Lincoln said, glancing up into the sky. “This doesn’t look good.”
“At least it’s not a dry summer, so the ground won’t soak up the rain.”
Caroline looked between them. “What’s…what’s that about?”
“A couple of summers ago, we got so much rain,” Lincoln said.
“The whole town flooded,” Dawson said, and she liked the two of them telling this story tandem. She smiled at them both, her eyebrows lifting up.
“It wasn’t bad up here,” Lincoln said. “We’re a bit higher, and the river doesn’t branch until down in town.”
“So much of the town flooded,” Dawson said. “And yeah, the ranches north and along all the branches where Three Rivers actually branches into three rivers.”
“Remember Alex’s place?” Lincoln looked at Dawson, the two of them clearly close. “Those sinkholes?”
“Unbelievable,” Dawson said as he shook his head. He looked back at Caroline. “I know we seem like a small town where not much happens, but you stick around a while, and you’ll see.”
Caroline tucked her hands into her jacket pockets. “See what?” She looked over to Lincoln. “Floods? Fires? Snow?”
“I reckon,” Lincoln said. “All of the above.” He swatted at Dawson’s chest. “Remember the year we couldn’t get off Shiloh Ridge, because the snow caused a landslide?”
“And the fire in the apartment complex that brought Misty up to your ranch.”
Lincoln laughed, his blonde head tipping back. The wind decided to kick up again, and it stole his cowboy hat from him. That cut his laughter short, but it didn’t stop it completely. Dawson took a step closer to her as Lincoln went to chase his hat.
“Misty is his fiancée. They got back together a bit ago after a fire in her apartment complex.” He glanced over to Lincoln, clear admiration and brotherly love in his expression.
“So you have friends,” she said.
He met her gaze again, and she wondered if he could see the teasing flirtatiousness she felt racing through her bloodstream. “Of course I have friends. Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I’m still getting the bigger picture of you,” she admitted.
Lincoln returned and said, “Hey, call me if y’all want to double. I bet we could get Finn and Alex too.” He glanced over to Caroline, something uncertain in his eyes now. “But maybe that’s too many.”
“It’s fine,” Dawson clipped out, finally tearing his eyes from Caroline’s. “I’ll call you, brother.” He threw one arm around Lincoln and gave him a quick clap on the shoulder. “Tell your momma and daddy hello. That mess of cousins and aunts and uncles.”
“Yep.” Lincoln embraced Dawson the same way and pulled back. “And you come get that pot of soup, or I’m gonna have my aunt blowing up my phone all night.”
“I’ll come get it.”
“I ain’t got time to be fielding texts from Etta,” he said sternly, but his blue eyes sparkled as if someone had plugged them in and set them on fire at the same time.
Dawson laughed this time and said, “I’m not going to pass up free food from literally the best cook y’all have at that ranch.” He cut a look over to Caroline. “I’ll come get it.”
“Oh, don’t let Bishop hear you say Etta’s the best cook.
” Lincoln chuckled again and settled his hat on his head.
“Ma’am.” He nodded his way away from her, and Caroline actually turned and watched him walk back to where he’d tied his horse.
He unlooped the reins, then swung into the saddle like he did it every hour.
He probably did.
“He didn’t drive?” she wondered.
“The Glovers are a special breed of cowboy,” Dawson murmured back. “Great men and women there.” He took a big breath, which seemed to break the quiet moment.
She inhaled too and turned to face him. Every time she looked at him, she saw someone and something different.
The man had close friends, and things he’d been through with them.
He had a past. He had different moods, and laughter she’d never heard before.
He had family she hadn’t met, and suddenly, she couldn’t wait to do that.
“You know those shoes you have by your front door?” she asked.
Dawson blinked a couple of times, clearly surprised. “I suppose.”
“Who do they belong to?”
He backed up a step. “You want to know who the shoes by my front door belong to?”
“They were too small to be yours or Brandon’s.”
He cocked up the corners of his mouth, like he knew something she didn’t. “You haven’t met Brandon. Maybe he’s real short, with small feet.”
She blinked too, a vein of cold shock filling her for a moment. Then everything in her body warmed when she realized Dawson Rhinehart could make a joke. “Just tell me who the shoes belong to.”
He chuckled and ducked his head as he shook it. She doubted he knew how adorable that was, but she felt real feelings streaming through her at the mere sight of him.
Dawson raised his head, something blazing in those oceanic eyes. “Can we talk out of the wind? Maybe on the way back to the ranch? I really do have things to do today if I’m to be showered and on your doorstep by six.”
“I said—” She silenced when he reached out and brushed his fingertips along her cheek, finally giving true weight to his touch as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“Six is just fine,” he drawled.
She suspected he was saying more than that, but Caroline had gone numb and still at his touch. He nodded past her and said, “Let’s go, Ruffin.”
The dog went by her, and she let Dawson turn her back toward their vehicles. “I drove myself,” she said dumbly.
“Can I hold your hand?” he murmured, but he didn’t wait for her to say yes or no. He simply slid his gloves into his back pocket with one hand and with his other, he claimed her fingers with his own.
She pulled in a breath that another gust of wind thankfully stole the sound of, and somehow got her legs to start walking with him.
“I was thinking of doing a little sightseeing tonight,” he said. “But we might have to raincheck that if it’s raining.”
“Sightseeing?”
“You seem interested in knowing some of the history of the town,” he said, glancing over to her. “Unless I misread the situation completely. But—”
“No, you’re right,” she said, finally coming back to herself. “I wanted to be a history major in college, but I didn’t want to teach.”
“Is that all you can do?”
“No, but none of the job opportunities excited me.”
“So you moved into wildlife management?”
“I don’t like working at a desk.”
Dawson didn’t respond for a beat, and then he said, “I hate it too, and I think that might be the first thing we have in common.”
Caroline scoffed, though her brain whirred through what else they might both like. “That’s not true,” she said. “We both like over-easy eggs.”
He huffed out a couple beats of laughter. “True.” He exhaled and squeezed her hand. “I’ll watch the weather, but it’s not that fun to be out in the rain.”
“Mm, no, it isn’t.” She watched the ground at her feet, existing in a state of excitement mingled with disbelief that she was holding someone’s hand and talking about a date later that night. She’d never thought she’d be here again. In fact, she’d sworn not to put herself in this position again.
Her heartbeat throbbed painfully against her ribcage, her most vital organ feeling far too big for her chest. “So you’ll watch the weather,” she said as they reached the vehicles.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll watch the weather.” He pulled open her door for her, and Caroline smiled shyly at him as she stepped past him and got behind the wheel. “See you at six, beautiful.”
With that, he closed her door and moved over to his truck without a backward glance.
Caroline gripped the wheel with both hands and left the West End Fence ahead of Dawson, her eyes straight forward but not seeing anything. “Dear Lord,” she pray-moaned. “What am I doing? What am I going to tell Belle?”