Next Door Daddy (14 page)

“Pollyanna,” he said after about five miles.

“Yes?” she snapped, feeling immediately foolish at her jumpy answer.

“I've been thinking. The thing is, this weekend is Cassie and Jake's wedding. And you know how we said it's hard going to events like that alone.”

“I am getting better at it. But I don't know if I'll ever like it.” Even the thought had her heart suddenly pounding away. At least that was how she explained the sudden erratic pounding.

“Yeah, me, too. I was thinking maybe I could drive us all there together.”

She hadn't planned on going for that reason. Through no one's fault, she'd felt like a fifth wheel again on Sunday.

Nate offered an alternative. He seemed nervous.

“Don't look so scared,” he said when she didn't immediately answer.

She shot him a glance. “Sorry. I know it would just be two friends helping each other out. Nothing more. I just suddenly got worried that the ladies might start getting the wrong idea.”

Nate didn't take his eyes off the road. “They'll get over it.”

His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. This wasn't easy for him, either. “Okay, I'll go.” She nodded when he looked at her for confirmation. “So, tell me about your trip,” she said, changing the subject. And she was genuinely interested in what he'd been doing since she'd seen him. It seemed like it had been ages and ages.

He smiled, probably from relief, and told her about his family. She enjoyed listening to him talk about his parents and his brother. “What?” he asked after telling her how his mother had fixed all of his favorite foods because she worried about his not eating right and that she'd sent him home with a ice chest full of casseroles. “What?” he asked again, when Polly continued to stare at him after her chuckles died away.

“I was just thinking that mothers never stop worrying. And I bet she's right, you don't eat well, do you?”

He dropped his jaw. “And how would you know that?”

“Just a good guess. You were at my house the other night and your stomach was growling. What did you go home and eat? And what did you have for lunch?”

He watched the road; his jaw flexed twice, then he slid his gaze back to her. “I forgot to eat lunch, I was busy. And I went home and had a peanut butter sandwich.”

“Is that a habit?”

His expression hardened. “What's with the twenty questions?”

“I don't know. Maybe you should start cooking. I know if I didn't have Gil to think about I would probably not eat right, either. But having Gil makes me aware of needing things like food. He gives me an anchor that I need. I just worried—”

The school came into view. “Don't worry about me, I can handle myself. I've got one mother already. I don't need another.”

“Hey, don't get mad. I was just making an observation.”

“Yeah, well, don't.”

The anger in his tone shocked her. “Aren't you the grumpy one today?”

His expression dark, he pulled into the parking lot. Polly spotted Max and Gil immediately. They were standing in a group of kids laughing and talking. Telling tall tales, probably.

“Nate.”

He didn't look at her. Instead he watched Gil, too.

“What?” he asked after a brief hesitation, anger still lacing his tone.

Something was really bothering him, she realized. He was wound tight. Exactly what was going on in his head? She stared at him and took a stab at the heart of what motivated his moodiness. “She would want you to move on. To eat right, take care of yourself. Find another wife.”

Anger swift and dark shadowed his eyes. “You don't know what she'd want.”

Irrationally, Polly felt driven suddenly. “Yes, I do. If it had been me who died in the car crash instead of Marc, I would want him to find happiness again. I would want him to remarry someone to share his life with. Someone to take care of him.”

“What is your obsession with men needing to be taken care of? What about you?”

Gil and Max were jogging toward them. “Me? Well, it's different. But you, men, God made a man to have a helpmeet.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I had one. He took her away. Now, can we not talk about this?”

Polly opened her door and hopped down from the truck and let the boys scramble in. There was no need for Nate to worry about their conversation continuing. Max and Gil were so excited that Nate had come to pick them up that they talked nonstop all the way home. Thankfully they were completely oblivious to the tension radiating between Polly and Nate.

It gave Polly time to ask herself what in the world had she been thinking?

Who was she to be trying to run Nate's life? And what was that all about telling him he needed to get married! If he'd have said that to her she'd have been mad, too.

Polly watched him with her son and his friend, answering their questions, laughing at their jokes. Nate lit up when Gil was around. It was instantaneous and the feelings were mutual.

They'd seemed linked from the beginning.

So there. Her reasoning for interfering in Nate's life was because he was her friend and Gil's, and friends were supposed to be concerned for each other. Right?

And she had a right to do so, if he was going to be an important person in Gil's life.

Was he going to be an important person in Gil's life?

Was she going to butt out and let this play out however it was supposed to play out?

Yes. Despite her worries and her fears she was going to have to back down. Nate was
already
an important person in Gil's life.

I
t had been a long day. After dropping Pollyanna and the boys off at her house, he'd spent the rest of the afternoon searching for a lost calf. Then he'd dug postholes until dark. Gil had wanted to come along but he'd needed to be alone. He'd needed the exertion, needed the mindless repetition and the hard work that stole everything out of him and left no room for thoughts.

But the thoughts had just waited on him. They were hidden in the recesses of his mind and ambushed him the minute he'd laid his shovels down. Knowing it was useless to continue to put off confronting his demons, he trudged into his empty kitchen and made a strong pot of coffee. After he'd washed off some of the grime, hot cup in hand, he hunkered down in his swing.

His and Kayla's swing.

He'd given it to her for Valentine's Day, and they'd spent many evenings side by side, drinking their coffee and watching the sunset.

Three years now he'd spent drinking coffee alone in their swing, watching sunset after endless sunset.

He was growing to hate sunsets.

Tonight the sun had already gone down and he stared sullenly out over the back pasture bathed in moonlight, feeling the heavy pull of loneliness, heavier with each passing day. He missed Kayla's touch, he missed her laugh, but most of all he missed their conversations. Something so easily taken for granted…the simple act of sharing his daily routine with the one he loved.

He ached for that again.

Pollyanna stepped into his thoughts the way she'd been doing over and over again. Rolling the empty cup between his hands he stood and paced the length of the porch. He'd gotten irrationally angry today.

He'd used the wedding as an excuse to test the waters. He'd thought he was asking her on a date. The last thing he'd wanted from Pollyanna was for her to mother him. He scrubbed his eyes with his fist before raking his hand down his face.

She'd looked at him with such a startled expression that he'd buckled and told her it was just as friends.

Coward.

Who was he kidding? He wouldn't even know what to do on a date. It had been ten years since he'd asked Kayla out the first time. He was pretty rusty. And what did it matter? Pollyanna wasn't interested in a date.

He leaned his head back and let out a long, frustrated sigh. He was tired.

Tired of sitting here night after night on the porch with nothing but memories.

His heart started hammering with guilt. He closed his eyes and could almost feel Kayla's hand against his heart. Almost. Tonight she seemed far away, out on the edge of his memory looking in. It had been happening subtly over the past few weeks.

Nate had never been a coward. But he felt like one now. And he wasn't sure what he was scared of. Was it what Pollyanna had talked about? That Kayla's memory would pull further and further away? That she would become like a shadow in the mist. And that he couldn't do anything about it.

Or was it that he knew deep down it was time for him to make the move. That it was time for him to stop using Kayla and his guilt as a crutch. She would want him to remarry.

Yup. True.

As he stared up at the dark sky, his heart felt twisted and as volatile as the fury of a tornado shredding open ground.

Kayla had been gone for three years. He felt as if he'd curled up and hibernated ever since. Pollyanna and Gil had changed that.

He wanted them. Guilt free. He wanted them.

As plain as that. But they weren't his to have unless Pollyanna could let go of Marc.

Unless she fell in love with him the way he'd fallen in love with her.

He let the admission settle in around him. He loved Pollyanna McDonald. And it didn't take away any of his love for Kayla.

That was the astounding thing.

But could Pollyanna ever feel this way? Nate could only pray that God would open her heart.

 

On Saturday afternoon, to the rhythmic rendition of “Jesus Loves Pepper,” Pollyanna waited nervously for Nate's truck as it eased up her lane. He was coming to pick them up for the wedding. After having made him so angry, she hadn't been sure he still wanted her to go, but he'd called on Friday to apologize for his bad behavior and assured her that he wanted to escort her to the wedding if she'd still allow him to. She'd forgiven him before he'd called. But it pleased her that he did, explaining as she'd already assumed, that he'd had a lot on his mind and it hadn't been her that he was frustrated with, but himself.

But what had she been thinking, anyway? The man did need to eat better. He needed someone to take care of him, but what business was that of hers?

She was certain someone would come along who would be glad to worry about Nate. Polly thought about Susan Nash. The female veterinarian would be more than happy to step in and worry about Nate.

Bogie came scrambling around the corner of the kitchen, signaling that Nate was coming up the drive. The ruckus he started sent Pepper into hysterics and Polly's heart joined in with all the sudden commotion. Walking to the door, she placed a hand on her queasy stomach, only then realizing how nervous she was about going to the wedding. Or was it about going with Nate? Because despite every reason she debated for going, this almost seemed like a first date to her.

Of course she knew it wasn't. Despite the fact that she thought it would be good for Nate to find a wife—again, it was no business of hers. Still, Nate was no more thinking about dating than she was…so, then, what was wrong with her?

As she watched him stride up the walk, her mind went blank.

The man was gorgeous
was the only thing she was thinking as she opened the door to him. She took a deep breath, and fought to sound casual. “My, my, Mr. Talbert. Don't you clean up nicely.” Did that sound like flirting?
Had she just flirted with Nate?
Polly felt crimson heat rise up past her neckline.

What was wrong with her? He was going to think she was a goof. She rubbed a knot that had formed below her earlobe. The tension in the air left her teasing statement hanging like a bad joke.

Of course, it didn't help that she was gawking at him as if she'd just been rescued from a deserted island after years of solitude! She'd seen him dressed for church before. But, she thought in her defense, today he wore black dress jeans and a Stetson, and a white shirt that shimmered just a smidgeon beneath the dove-gray dress coat. But it was the penetrating look in his eyes that would make any woman melt. She hadn't seen that look before, and quite frankly it caused her insides to flutter and her mouth to go dry.

Then he pulled his hat off, exposing that wavy black hair, and his lips curved into a smile that would make any woman melt. “Ms. McDonald, I could say the same for you, except it wouldn't do you justice.”

She touched her temple, captured by the look in his eyes. “Y-you can still say it.” She swallowed hard and tucked a curl behind her ear. Her fingers were trembling. Her stomach was, too.

His eyes swept down her. “You're breathtaking.”

Okay, her knees began to tremble, too.

And her insides.

Something had changed between them and it wasn't her imagination.

The knowledge left her balancing on the edge of a precipice, feeling the rock shift beneath her feet.

“Hey, Mom,” Gil called, sliding down the banister. He plopped to the ground as light on his feet as a cat. “I don't see why I've gotta wear this stiff shirt. It scratches.”

Polly jumped as if she'd been caught doing something wrong and swung toward Gil. She forced her voice to work, praying she sounded normal. She did not look at Nate. “Gil thinks that if it's not Sunday morning he shouldn't have to wear a dress shirt and he's not too keen on it even then.”

She couldn't meet Nate's eyes, but she glanced his general direction and caught him tugging at his collar.

So he was nervous, too.

“I agree,” he said, sounding like a bullfrog. Polly couldn't help looking at him now. He swallowed hard, meeting her gaze, then turned his attention to Gil. “But this is a special occasion, pardner.” Gil frowned at him. “Cassie and Jake are getting married and we're dressing up in honor of them. That's what you do on special days. And when two people are lucky enough to find love, it's a time to celebrate.” He looked at Polly.

“W-we, better go,” Polly stuttered, and herded Gil out the door. Nate's hand on her arm stopped her on the threshold.

“Pollyanna.”

Her heart was pounding as she looked up at him. He was watching her. “I agree with your reasoning,” she said softly, and found her gaze drawn to his smiling lips. She did. He knew the power of love and commitment. And the beauty of the ceremony that said it was sacred.

“I know. Shall we?”

He led the way to his truck. After Gil had scrambled into the backseat, Nate held his hand out for Pollyanna's. Slipping her hand into Nate's, she forgot to move. She just stood beside him, cocooned by the open door, feeling the simple warmth of his hand clasped securely around hers. He didn't make a move, either. One hand held hers, the other was at the small of her back ready to support her as she climbed up into the high seat. Head feeling light, she swallowed slowly and lifted troubled eyes to his. She wondered if he could hear her heart. Wondered if he could look at her and know that she had suddenly lost her footing and was plunging headfirst down a rock face without a harness.