Next Door Daddy (10 page)

Nate could only nod as his throat clogged with emotion. He understood completely.

“I know that he would no more return to this world or shed a tear to return,” she continued, giving a half smile. “Just think of the beauty he's seeing, of the wonders that are unfolding before him…But I'm tired of being alone and yet I don't want anyone else. I feel guilty if even the thought pops into my head. And I feel guilty for missing him so much.” She couldn't believe she was telling him this. But she couldn't seem to stop. “I can't even imagine dating anyone other than Marc, and I resent, yes, God forgive me, I resent being here and having to think about it.” She plopped her hands to her thighs and forced a smile. “But hey, as wishy-washy as my feelings are these days, tomorrow I'll wake up thinking that I've turned a corner and I'm going to be able to get on with my life. That I'm actually going to take two steps and not lose one the same day.” She clutched her hands together and didn't look at all convincing.

He twisted around so that he crouched in front of her. It was a natural thing to cover her clutched hands with his, feeling the need to comfort this woman who seemed to be looking into his very soul and reading his every emotion, his every thought.

“I feel so much of what you've said. I think what we feel is normal and I've long ago stopped feeling guilty for the way I feel. We loved them and we miss them. They were part of us and death hasn't changed that for us. Despite what the outside world sees. Time is irrelevant when it comes to grief. And love.”

She squeezed his hand, the green of her eyes melting with agreement. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked but she smiled a sad smile. “I have felt so guilty thinking about what the Lord thinks of me, too.”

“Why?” he asked, realizing that he still held her hands, but it had been so long since he'd held a woman's hand, he found comfort in the touch.

She sighed. “Because of what God did for me. Waking me up before it was too late.”

“How so?” he asked when she went silent. She met his gaze, and seemed to pierce his heart. Of its own accord his gaze drifted to her lips momentarily.

“You see, I used to be a workaholic. I worked eleven-and twelve-hour days at the restaurant that I owned.”

“You owned a restaurant?” He could believe it.

She laughed. “Yes, a little hole-in-the-wall, but I did a fantastic business. That's what I was doing when I met Marc. I hadn't been opened long and he walked in one night with his girlfriend. I didn't know she was the girlfriend of the week until later, but the moment he smiled at me, I fell in love. Instantly. I was such a young romantic. The next night he came in without his girlfriend and every night thereafter.” She faltered. “I didn't mean to get carried away with memories—though that is one of the things God did for me, setting me up with Marc that way. But where I was going with this is that I had worked so hard to build my business that even after we were married and we had Gil, I continued to work long hours. I barely made it home in time to tuck Gil in at night, and half the time I was so worn out on my day off that I was missing everything and didn't know it. I had such a treasure and I was letting it slip by me.” She took a shuddering breath. “And then one Sunday afternoon, I was sitting in a chair, so tired I could barely think, and I was watching Gil and Marc wrestle on the grass. I felt God tell me to wake up and concentrate on my family. Gil was four at the time, but I saw him grow up in a flash with me at work or too tired to enjoy our time together as a family. It shook me up and I felt this overwhelming urgency about it.”

She was staring at him so earnestly that Nate almost leaned toward her. Wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. The thought caused his insides to go still. “So what did you do?” he asked.

“I wish I could say that I immediately changed my life. That I stayed home with my family, but you know how it is, I thought it wasn't really a word from God. I mean, how could I be sure…? Instead I ignored Him. But thankfully I had such turmoil inside me about it, God literally wouldn't let me forget that He'd given me a wake-up call. After three weeks, I finally mentioned it to Marc. He was so happy, he was always telling me that he missed me, that he didn't see enough of me. But he would never tell me to choose, he was just that way. I only saw what it meant to him when I told him that I wanted to refocus my schedule so that I could be home more. I will never forget his elation. That was all I needed. I got my priorities straight and put my family first. I sold out completely at the end of the year, really convinced that I wanted to be home for Gil and for Marc. It might not have been the right move for some, but for me it was. We had a great two years. If God hadn't given me the gift of that thump on the head, I wouldn't have had those last two years of treasured memories to cherish and sustain me.” Her eyes glistened with tears.

Without thought Nate reached and wiped the tear off her cheek with his thumb. “I'm glad He did that for you.”

She sniffled and nodded. “Me, too. I'm so thankful that I listened or I would have had so many regrets to live with. But God knew.” Her voice thickened. “He was so good to me and that's why I feel so guilty. I mean, that verse,
The Lord has done great things for us
—not only did he send His son to die on the cross for me, He gave me Marc, if only for a short time. He gave me Gil. And then He woke me up in time to…” She closed her eyes, her hand tightening around his, and her voice trailed away.

“So you feel guilty because God gave you the gift of realizing you had a wonderful life and you feel guilty because you wanted it to last longer?”

“Exactly.” She sighed. “It sounds so selfish.”

She glanced down at their clasped hands at the same time he felt self-conscious that he'd been holding her hands for so long. He let go and stood, suddenly needing to put some space between them. Overwhelmed by the emotion that swept over him.

“I don't see that there's anything to be guilty about. God gave you a beautiful life and there's no harm in loving it so much that you wish you still had it. I wish I still had mine.” He turned to look at her. “Unapologetically.”

She reached for the flower again, fingering one slender stalk. “I can't help thinking there is something wrong about feeling this way.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because if I can't move forward, there's no glory in that for the Lord. And if there's no glory in it for Him, then I'm just spinning my wheels. I have to find a way to be satisfied with my life as it is. I have to find courage to move forward all the way. And I will. It's just…I keep getting waylaid all the time. One minute I'm thinking I'm okay, the next I'm like this.” She raked her hand through her hair and frowned. “Quite frankly, I'm tired of feeling this way.”

“I
know what you mean,” Nate said. He wasn't sure he agreed with Pollyanna on all points, but there were similarities. “I feel like my life peaked with Kayla and that everything is downhill from here. I can't shake the feeling. I've been praying for the Lord to send me something else to wake up for, because as it is, I feel like I've got one foot in the grave right there beside Kayla.”

Polly placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. “I'm so sorry.”

He raked a hand through his hair, completely thrown by the way he was able to open up to Pollyanna. But she understood. “The truth is I'm not even halfway existing and I'm tired, too…but I can't fathom feeling better without Kayla.”

He told himself that he was telling Pollyanna what was in his heart because she'd been through it and knew what it was like to love and lose. Essentially they were both caught in the same kind of limbo. He'd not been able to tell his closest friends, not even his brother, the things he'd just told Pollyanna. The only other person he'd ever been able to be this open with was Kayla.

But the truth hit him that since Pollyanna and Gil had come into his life he'd been waking up each day feeling more like his old self. And he liked the feeling.

“Nate, would—” Pollyanna started, then stopped, looking uncertain. She took a deep breath. “Would you like to go on that bike ride with me?”

Despite her body language, the question still took him by surprise. During their conversation he'd forgotten all about bikes. “A bike ride, huh?”

“I have an extra bike. It belonged to Marc. It's a great bike.” She smiled and Nate felt as if the sun had just come out from behind a cloud. “Really, come on, it would be good for both of us. I just want to ride and not think about any of this for a few hours. I'm ready to have some fun.”

He hadn't ridden a bike since he was in school…early years. But the idea appealed to him. “Sure, why not?”

“Great!” She clapped her hands together and beamed. “Do you own a pair of shorts and sneakers?”

“Oh, cowboys can't own shorts and sneakers?” he drawled, quirking a brow in challenge as he crossed his arms. He already felt the heaviness lifting from him.

Polly matched his eyebrow with one of her own. “I don't know, can they?”

Nate laughed, and felt as if he'd just taken his first breath in a very long time. Maybe there was something to these endorphins after all.

 

Twenty minutes later Polly had her answer. Yes, cowboys could wear shorts and sneakers,
but,
everyone else had better be wearing sunshades. Nate's shorts were stylish enough, relaxed brown cargos, far from the formfitting jeans he usually wore, and his running shoes were great…but the well-muscled knee and calf that connected the two—oh my, oh my, that portion of leg was blinding it was so white!

“You don't wear those often, do you?” she said in observation, so happy to be feeling better. And honestly looking forward to a ride with Nate. He gave her a boyish grin, tugged on a ball cap and winked.
Winked!

“Well—ah, little lady, as a matter of fact,” he drawled, giving a dead-on John Wayne impersonation, “when a man's got a herd to see to, thar ain't much time for such
frivolities
as sunning his legs.”

Polly laughed, feeling the stress of the morning easing. And she was delighted to see him this way. “You do a great John Wayne.”

He cocked his head to the side, jutted a hip out and put his weight on his back leg, reminiscent of the actor, which would have really been perfect if he'd had on his western attire. “That wasn't John Wayne.”

Polly's mouth dropped open. “You're not serious? It sounded just like him.”

He shook his head.

“Then who was it? Oh, oh, it was Foghorn Leghorn the big rooster from the cartoons. I always said he sounded like John Wayne.”

He rolled his eyes. “Nope.”

“But it had to be, it was perfect.”

“It was my dad.”

“Your dad sounds like John Wayne?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking at her seriously.

“If you say so,” she said slowly, suddenly realizing just exactly how handsome Nate Talbert was, standing there totally out of character…looking completely relaxed. As she held his gaze his grin broadened.

“Honestly, it was me impersonating my dad—impersonating John Wayne.”

“Ha!” she laughed, and stepped toward him, giving his arm a playful shove. “You think you're so clever.”

“Hey, you went for it hook, line and sinker.”

“Funny, funny, funny man. We'll see who has the last laugh after you pull those bikes out of the back of your truck and put those Mr. Clean legs to work.”

She spun and sashayed off his porch toward his truck. This felt great! They'd loaded the bikes into his truck, then driven to his house so he could change clothes. It was as if without saying so out loud they'd both agreed to let the past rest for now. Polly had exposed more of herself than she was comfortable with and she felt sure that Nate felt the same way. Yet it had been a relief to tell someone what she'd bottled up inside for so long.

Nate jogged past her, flipped around and jogged backward, smiling at her as he went. “You don't think a cowboy can ride a bike, do ya, little lady?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I don't know, little man. We'll have to see, won't we?”

He let the tailgate down and easily lifted her bike down. “I could get used to this. I think.”

She watched his back muscles strain against the polo shirt he wore as he reached for the other bike. He was a very fit man. Marc had always been in perfect shape. She pushed the thought aside, feeling guilty but needing not to go there for now. “Don't speak too soon. I bet you won't be able to walk tomorrow, you're going to be so sore.”

He set the bike down and threw a leg over it as if it were his horse. “We'll have to see about that, little lady.”

Polly hopped on her bike and took off down his driveway toward the bend. “Come on, cowboy, show me whatcha got.”

“Hey! Hold up,” he called as he kicked off, wobbled and almost wrecked because he was watching her rather than where he was going. She was looking over her shoulder, seeing his near crash. She cackled with glee as she stood up on the pedals to get more speed. She heard him laugh behind her and was glad he'd come along.

Nate didn't mind trailing behind Pollyanna one bit.

He caught her at the road, still a bit loose, but with his leg-length advantage he figured once he'd caught her he wouldn't lose her. Wrong.

“So tell me,” he said, when he pulled up beside her again a hundred feet down the paved road. This time he realized that he'd caught her because she'd let him. “Do you compete or what?”

She laughed, looking so much more carefree. Nate found himself unable to take his eyes off of her.

“No. I just like to ride. Look, someone's coming!
Quick,
cover your legs so you don't blind them.”

He dropped his chin. “Funny. Ha ha ha.”

She blinked, her expression blank. “I wasn't joking.”

“Funny,” he repeated, causing her to smile.

The truck slowed so they stopped alongside it. It was the Wilcoxes. Esther Mae scooted to the driver's side and looked over her husband's shoulder at them. “Hi, you two. Goodness gracious, Nate, I don't know if I'm more surprised to see you on a bike, wearing shorts or that your legs are whiter than my gardenias.”

“Hank, save me here, would ya?” Nate groaned.

Hank pushed his hat back from his weathered face and let his gaze drop to Nate's legs. “I don't know, Esther, I think the legs win hands down.” He chuckled.

“I'm with you, Hank,” Polly chimed in. “I was afraid you would be blinded by them as you came over the hill.”

“I see your point,” Hank agreed, and Esther Mae frowned.

“Honestly, though, Hank, I don't know why you're laughing. Your legs haven't seen the sunlight for a month of Sundays…No, I take that back. We'd have to replace
month
with
year
for you, but a year of Sundays just doesn't sound right.”

“Well, Nate ain't got anything to worry about because I'm not planning to give him any competition. My bird legs will remain safely hidden beneath my jeans, thank you very much.”

“Oh, Hank,” Polly teased. “I was hoping to talk to the fair committee and see about adding a five-mile bike race to the spring festival.”

Nate frowned. “I thought you said you didn't compete.”

“I don't. But that doesn't mean we couldn't add a little extra something to the festivities. I mean, what would be more fun than seeing a bunch of cowboys like you, out of their element on bikes. Seeing you looking so cute on one is what just gave me the idea.”

Esther Mae almost elbowed Hank in the jaw as she got closer to the window. “Polly, are you saying you think Nate's cute?”

Nate grinned, seeing Pollyanna's discomfiture. She turned as pink as the shorts she was wearing, and she really looked good in pink. He lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, realizing that he was more than a little interested in her answer…the idea slammed into him like a two-thousand-pound bull. Since when did he care what a woman thought of him?

Her eyes widened with surprise, or dismay, he wasn't certain which. He had a feeling her words may have shocked her as much as they'd shocked him. A shy smile lifted the corners of her lips as her eyes mellowed and shifted away momentarily.

“Yes,” she said in a halting, small voice. “I guess that I'm saying exactly that.”

 

Monday morning the matchmaking ladies of Mule Hollow were all aflutter sitting in every available chair at Lacy's salon, Heavenly Inspirations.

“I'm telling you,” Esther Mae gushed, looking around the room. Not only were Norma Sue, Adela and Lacy in attendance, but also Sheri Gentry, Molly Jacobs and Ashby Templeton. Esther Mae's matchmaking brain faltered on Ashby. They still needed to marry off Ashby, but so far the right fella hadn't come along…although there had been some sparks between her and that not-so-ready-to-settle-down Dan Dawson…Esther and the girls had been watching them like hawks. There were sparks and then there were sparks, and with Dan it was just hard to tell, the boy could make sparks fly off of an ice sculpture he was so—well, to put it bluntly, so charmingly manly. Kind of reminded her of Elvis. She'd seen whole flocks of women trip over themselves when he flashed his pearly whites. But this wasn't about Dan Dawson or Ashby, this was about Pollyanna and Nate, and never before had it been such serious business. She'd called this emergency meeting first thing Monday morning directly after happening upon them riding bikes the day before.

“Well what?” Norma Sue snapped. “Don't just sit there and keep us in suspense.”

Esther Mae grinned, too excited to get frustrated with her old friend. “They were just so cute together. And they both looked happy.
Happy,
can you imagine? Nate Talbert hasn't had a sparkle in his eyes in three years, bless his little ol' heart. And the other day, she called him incredible. You heard her, Norma Sue.”

“But, Esther Mae,” Norma Sue said, setting her coffee cup down on the counter. “I'm with you one hundred percent that the two kiddos need each other and it would be a wonderful thing. But fooling with widowers and widows? Frankly, I'm getting cold feet.”

Adela waved her hand from where she sat at Sheri's manicure table. “I was a widow.”

Norma Sue balked. “You're different. I'm just saying we could mess up here. What if we meddle and they get hurt more than they've already been hurt? It could happen. Even if they are both good people. And then there's the boy, too.”

Sheri nodded. “She has a point there.”

A drum roll started at the shampoo bowl, a sure sign Lacy was deep in thought as she tapped her red nails on the porcelain and said nothing. She was sitting with one leg draped over the arm of the shampoo chair and her arm resting on the bowl. Everyone watched her think and waited in silence. Finally she nodded her blond head and her fingers ceased tapping. “I get where you're coming from, Norma Sue. And you, too, Sheri. But I've got a great feeling about these two. And I've been praying hard. It's not like either of them just recently lost their spouse. If it had only been a few months, or even only a year, I might hesitate. But it's been three years for Nate and two for Polly.” She smiled, her eyes bright. “Like I said, I've been praying about Nate for a while and so has Clint, and I really feel good about this. You know I don't think anything happens by chance. I don't believe it was happenstance that Pollyanna and Gil moved in next door to Nate. He needs them and God knows it. And they need him.”