Chapter one
Silas
"Sold to the gentleman in the back who...."
I don't hear anything else the pretty boy auctioneer says. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the noise of The Wet Whistle and the sound of the auction going on around me. I swallow hard.
What have I done?
I've spent over a year carefully crafting a persona of gruff indifference around Dolly. I've managed to keep a professional distance, schooling my reaction every time she runs her fingers through my hair during my monthly haircuts. I've forced myself to walk out of her salon and get back into my truck to head up the mountain without taking her into my arms once. I leave her be, go home, and mark the days off on my calendar like a love-sick fool as I wait patiently for the next time that I get to see her gorgeous, heaven-crafted face.
Holy shit.I just bought three dates with Dolly Parker.
The panic of what this means has me breathing hard, my mind racing with the implications of my choices tonight. I don't know what came over me. I saw the flyer for the annual auction last week and didn't think anything of it. I've never attended the auction or wanted to bid on a date with anyone in my life. But then her name appeared on the list of ladies up for bid, and every instinct in my body screamed in unison:Mine.
I couldn't let anybody else have her. And now, I've just claimed my interest in her publicly, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next. What if she's pissed? Oh god. Of course she's going to be angry. The whole point of offering three dates is to give yourself options, and I swooped in and ruined her plans.
"One fifty."
Dean Sutton's voice cuts through my intrusive thoughts, and I snap my head up like I'm coming out of a fog. They've already started the next bid. Oh shit. They're auctioning off date two of the next bid. Fuck. I need to pay and get the hell out of here.
As I stand up, the entire bar suddenly erupts in laughter and I glance around wildly, worried Dolly is headed over to chew me out in front of the crowd. But everybody's attention is glued to the stage, so I swivel my head to the front and find Danny Moore's younger sister, Whitney, flipping Dean off. He grins like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen.
At least Dolly smiled at me the whole time she was up on stage. But she cuts my hair, so it's possible she didn't want to be rude to a paying customer.
My brain can't handle this right now. I have to get out of here.
I clear my throat when I get to the cashier's table. "I'd like to pay, please." I pull out my wallet, but Babs and Ms. Diane both shush me. They grin at Whitney, watching with pure glee asHale Fishel claims the third date, but I'm too distracted to worry about what's going on.
I glance nervously to the kitchen door at the back of the bar, hoping to get settled before anybody heads our way.
"She's yours, fellas." The auctioneer helps Whitney off the stage, and Babs puts two fingers in her mouth letting out a whistle of delight. She holds up her wrist, tapping her watch, and the guy running the auction nods back at her. "We'll be taking a five-minute break. Those who have purchased dates, please visit the table to my left and settle up."
"My, my, the auction has been interesting this year," Ms. Diane says to Babs, but she looks at me, and I nod awkwardly.
There is a reason I live up the mountain by myself. I've never been great at reading social cues. I was an awkward kid and then grew into a mountain of a man practically overnight. I shot up six inches the summer after graduation and gained another two over the course of the next year. Suddenly, girls who had never given me the time of day were talking to me, and guys always seemed like they were gearing up to fight me. My grandma called me a gentle giant, as I have never liked the idea of hurting anyone, but my dad insisted I learn to box.You need to be able to defend yourself. To protect your family, Silas, he'd say. Family. Little did he know I'd still be a bachelor pushing forty.
Even so, routines are good for me, and I stick with a pretty rigorous exercise regimen. Between that and my job as a logger, I'm strong enough that most people let me have my space. I have a few close friends, and I'm not rude to anybody, but I've found peace in solitude my entire life. The only exception being the thirty minutes in Dolly's chair once a month.
I fell head over heels in love with Dolly the second I laid eyes on her. One day, I was loading my truck with monthly supplies, and the next, this short, curvy, blonde spitfire popped out of the salon next to where I parked.
With her hands on her hips, she called out to me. "I can't in good conscience let you drive away until I get that hair out of your eyes." And then Dolly grinned, her brown eyes like a warm blanket for my soul, and my heart grew ten sizes. I was under her spell. I walked into her salon, sat in her chair, and let her cut my hair. She made me book an appointment for the next time I was down the mountain, and the rest, as they say, is history. Once a month, I get my fix of Dolly. It's all been clockwork for over a year.
Until tonight. And now, I wonder if I'll ever see her again.
"Here's your receipt, hon." Babs hands me a small slip of paper, giving me a kind smile. "Third time in town this month, Silas. Good to see you around more.”
I nod back at her like the robot I am. Babs runs a message center of sorts in town. Foxy Falls is located in a low-reception pocket of The Smokey Mountains. Cells phones don't work, and even the landline is iffy where I live, which is about half an hour up the mountain. I've given all my family and the few out-of-town friends I have Babs' number and she collects messages for me. She'll also make sure I get word quicker if there is ever anything urgent. Babs knew my grandmother back in the day, and she frequently feeds me pie and sends me home with a slice for the road.
The winters can be brutal this side of the mountain. Between the music festival and recreational activities, the summers in Foxy Falls are bustling, but in the winter, the town is made up of locals only. It's why the annual auction is so popular for everyone who calls Foxy Falls home.
"Thank you for your generous contribution to the restoration of the town recreation center, Silas." Ms. Diane smiles at me. "Where are you taking Dolly for the first date?"
My mouth drops open and I blink twice, real slow like we're in a cartoon. As ridiculous as it may seem, this is the first time ithas occurred to me that Dolly might actually want me to take her out. I've never planned a date in my life.
"I-I...," I trail off staring helplessly at Babs and Ms. Diane.
"Perhaps dinner for the first date," Babs suggests, and I nod quickly. The loud din of the bar distracts me from forming rational thought. Well, that, and the events of the evening overall, which have pretty much fried my damn brain.
