“I figured I would show you around the entire grounds, and you can pick the best spot for the dance, since you know what the residents need,” Dalton says.
I make notes as we go. It takes us over an hour to walk the grounds with my boot slowing us down. Dalton never complains or loses patience. He takes it in stride.
The only time he gets stern is when his German Shepherds come bounding up to me. One of them goes on his hindlegs like he’s about to put his paws on my shoulders, but Dalton is quick to utter a command.
The dog obeys without hesitation, dropping down to all fours again and giving his dad a repentant look as if to explain he only wanted to play with a new friend.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “They’re enthusiastic. I can work them from sun up until sundown, and they still have boundless energy. The one that’s trying to jump you is Max, and that guy is Rex. They’re my boys. Help me keep this place squared away.”
I drop to my knees, going down awkwardly with my boot. But I don’t care about getting dirt on my scrubs. Both of them come to me easily, showering me with doggy kisses as I stroke their fur and murmur to them about how pretty they are.
Max seems to glow under my praise, shooting Dalton a look almost as if to say, “See? She likes me.”
“Okay, get gone with you,” Dalton finally tells the dogs just as the sky rumbles overhead. “They have a nice little shelter on the other side of the lawn. Keeps them out of the elements when the summer heat gets too bad. We’re almost to the spot I was thinking of for the tents. Are you still good to walk?”
I manage to get to my feet with a hand from Dalton, and I give him a nod. Even though my leg is throbbing again, I’m not going to complain. The residents are excited about this dance being held outside, and the possibility that Bronco and his friends are building dance floors. “Lead the way.”
We walk for a little while longer. I had no idea the grounds of the Wildflower Community Center were so expansive. My respect for Dalton grows even more as I realize how hard he must work.
Finally, he stops and gestures around a big expanse of lush green grass. “We’re close enough to trees that they’ll provide some shade and also near enough the building that the walk shouldn’t be too hard. I figured we could put the tents here. Elaine has already approved the budget to rent a few of them. Plus, Bronco and his men will help set them up.”
“Bronco seems like a good friend of yours,” I say as I make a note on my phone about preparing a temporary walkway that won’t harm the grass.
“Bronco was there for me after I got out of the service. He’s been there for a lot of guys. That’s why he runs the ranch, so veterans have a place to come home to. They can stay for as long as they need while they get their feet back under them.” He grins then and shrugs. “What do you think about this space? Should we use it for the spring dance?”
I nod before I gesture to my phone. “I have a few ideas on how we can make it safe and accessible for everyone so the residents have a great time.”
“I’d love to hear about them over dinner. I brought some food with me. We can discuss it now if you’re up for it.” He holds up the wicker basket.
“Do you normally carry around your dinner in a picnic basket like that?” He must have planned this, and I can’t deny that it puts butterflies in my stomach to think about that.
He gives me a grin with a boyish charm. “Absolutely. I always pack a huge dinner in a large wicker basket then spend the day carrying it with me.”
I can’t help laughing. “I think you’re lying.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I am, but the food is good.”
“Where will we eat?”
“Come on, I’ll show you,” he says and takes my hand. He leads me to a cluster of three tables set in the back of the property, behind a hedge. It’s like we’re in our own little world here.
I settle at one of the tables, grateful to be off of my throbbing leg.
Dalton grabs a chair from the other table and sets it across from me. “You’re supposed to keep your leg elevated when you’re off of it.”
Then he opens the huge picnic basket and produces a throw pillow. He puts it on the chair and gently lifts my leg, so it’s comfortable for me to rest it.
I give him a slight grimace, thankful for his concern and loving how gentle he is despite his big stature.
He takes a seat across from me and unpacks the food.
I glance down at the spread appreciatively. I take a deep breath, the scent of the food and honeysuckle mingling together, and I can’t help giving him a soft smile. “I love the smell of honeysuckle in the spring. There’s nothing better than it. You’ve made the whole garden smell so good. There are gardenias and lilies and honeysuckle. This place is beautiful.”
He passes me a fork and says softly, “Eat.”
I accept the fork and take my first bite and moan appreciatively. Heat flares in Dalton’s gaze before he drops his attention back to his own plate.
“Honeysuckle is my favorite too,” he says softly. “I never paid much attention to flowers until my grandma.”
