“Him, dear. Take care ofhim.”
I didn’t appreciate her sing-song voice or her deep chuckle when I closed her door and raced back down the stairs, fully aware of how long I had made Dusty wait.
Heart thumping, I opened the door and peered outside. I found him leaning against the side of the house, to the right of the door, his hat down, blocking most of the snow from his face.
He glanced up at me when he heard the door open, amusement in his eyes. “Call your grandpa?”
I refused to be sorry. Sorry people wound up dead. “They’re in bed. He’s asleep, but I checked in with my grandma.”
“Did she give her approval?”
“Yes. She gave the impression you’re kind of like a cat who stops in for scraps every now and then.”
He grinned. “She feeds me chocolate pie. Can’t hardly blame a man.”
A small smile broke free on my face. There was something about his easy manner that spoke peace to my nerves. I gestured him toward the house. “Come on in. Sorry for making you wait.”
“I respect it. Your grandpa taught you well.”
I held the door open while he passed the threshold, closing it behind him. He stomped on the rug and shrugged out of his coat, placing it on the coat rack next to the entry. His hat and boots came off next. Then his socks. It was at that moment when I decided I should do something else besides stare at the man slowly stripping off his clothes.
“Come on in, when you’re ready.” I forced my limbs to move to the kitchen and put on more milk for hot chocolate. “Are you still a hot chocolate guy? If you’re a coffee guy, you’ll have to fix it yourself. I’m useless.”
“Hot chocolate’s good.”
His voice had moved closer. My skin prickled with awareness as he entered the kitchen. I switched on a burner and poured milk into the pot, trying not to bumble around like an idiot. It was jarring to suddenly have a man in the house. Five minutes earlier, there had been no man. At least, not any man awake and unrelated to me, and now—there was a man. A man who was familiar to me but at the same time very much a stranger.
I knew for a fact I hadn’t done my hair or makeup. The giant hot chocolate spill down my shirt came into full remembrance. Though I had arrived yesterday afternoon, I hadn’t bothered to shower or even check myself out in a mirror the past two days. My hair felt feral. I couldn’t recall the last time I shaved my legs. Not thatthatwas going to matter. Let’s just say it had been a while since I had been in such close proximity to a man. A real, live, breathing man. Alone. I turned toward him and smiled tightly, trying to act like I was perfectly in control.
Sure, come on in—cowboy man I knew for a few years when he was a pimply, squeak-voiced awkward pre-teen. Have a seat and I’ll fix you a cup of cocoa. Happens all the time.
“So, what brings you out this way?” I leaned against the fridge, all ease and nonchalance—all lies—while he took a seat at the bar. “I thought your family moved to Idaho?”
He sat on a barstool, absently fingering the stack of mail sitting on the counter as he spoke. “I’ve lived in Eugene, Idaho since junior high. A year ago, the guy I was working for decided to sell out his dairy cows and didn’t have enough work for me, so I moved back up to Cody and have been helping my uncle run his ranch full time. His cattle supplier is out in Spearfish, South Dakota and he had a herd of cows he wanted to buy that couldn’t wait, so here I am. I’m 0 for 2 on making this trip home in one shot in January. I had to stop and stay a few days with Bob and Susan last winter too.”
“A few days?”
“Yeah.” He eyed me curiously. “Where are you living? You don’t sound like someone used to the Wyoming winters anymore.”
I breathed a laugh. “I’m in Billings.”
“Ahh…their winters are much more civilized up there.”
“Hardly. Though I do live in town so it feels that way.”
He leaned forward, his arms crossed and resting comfortably on the bar. “What do you do in Billings?”
“I teach third grade. Have you liked being back in Wyoming?”
He smiled. “I love it. I love Idaho too, but it takes a special kind of cowboy to handle a Wyoming winter.”
I met his eyes only to turn away quickly to stir the milk on the stove. “I miss being on a ranch. Does it keep you busy?”
He nodded. “It’s not for the lazy. My uncle’s been wanting to slow down some but can’t seem to say no to buying more cattle. I’m having a hard time keeping up with the demand. We hired a few guys to help run tractors for us in the summer.”
We were silent for a few long moments, facing each other. I was painfully unsure of what to say or do. I used to fix fences and swim in the creek with this man. No. Not man. Boy. A tween-age boy my sister had been crazy for. I was at a loss of what to say to him as an adult. Small talk could only last so long.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw you,” I said. Again, lies. Why did I say that? My breaths came in faster now. Heart raced.
