Next Door Daddy (6 page)

She found herself wondering about Nate's wife. What type of woman would Nate Talbert love? Of course, it was none of her business. Still, that didn't stop the idea from popping into her head. He must have loved his wife very much. She knew he missed her. It was obvious that he still had hard moments, as she did. It had eased with time, but sometimes, the familiar pain returned…and she welcomed it. It proved that Marc had meant the world to her. That he'd been here. That he wasn't forgotten.

She wondered if Nate felt that way.

She watched Gil as she talked. He missed his daddy, but seemed to be adjusting and moving forward. Like she wanted him to do. But he still hurt. It was there in his actions, in the earnest way he looked at other boys and their fathers.

Polly frowned thinking about that. This swift and total infatuation with Nate could be dangerous.

She knew she could never replace Marc in her life and she had no desire to. But Gil was a different story. It was natural for a boy to seek out someone to look up to. And of course, with Nate basically riding to their rescue at every turn, it was only natural. But…
But what?

Her son had been hurt enough, that was what. And by the looks of it, so had Nate. So, she argued with herself, this was a positive thing. They might be good for each other.

She bit her lip and wiped her suddenly damp palm on her jeans. What if at some point Nate decided that a kid trailing around after him wasn't ideal? Or that the widow and her kid living next door to him were more of a bother than he cared to deal with?

What happened if Gil got attached and then Nate pulled back?

You can't protect Gil from everything, Polly.

Marc's words rang in her head. She knew it was true. At least her mind knew it was true, it was her heart that needed to get the message.

Listening to Gil, she knew it was too late to pull him back from this new friendship. All she could do was pray that God would meet his needs and show her how to be both mother and father to him. And that God would continue to put people like Nate into his life who would supply things she couldn't give him. She clung to the verse,
I will never leave you or forsake you.
God had been good to them. It would have been better if He'd let Gil have his father by his side all of his childhood. But that hadn't been in the greater plan.

Nate laughed at something Gil said, drawing her back from her thoughts and prayers. Looking at him now, she wondered for the first time what it would have been like to lose Marc and have nothing of him to hold on to. Gil was her life. Her reason for making the progress she'd made…Her heart ached with just the thought of not having him to carry on a part of Marc. She thanked God every day that he'd been spared.

Her heart ached for Nate. She wondered if he'd wanted children. God had been good to her, in so many ways. But Gil. Gil was the biggest blessing of all and gave her reason to keep going.

She wondered what kept Nate going.

T
hey dropped the trailer load of bawling cows off at the auction. It was after five before they headed toward the vet who'd agreed to see Bogie after she'd finished with her other appointments. When they finished there, they were going to swing by and pick up a baby goat.

“So you're sure you want a goat?” Nate asked after he'd driven the truck back out onto the road.

Polly heard the skepticism in his voice. For more than one reason, she thought. “Yes. Like I said the other night, I also want a cow I can name Betsy and plenty of chickens. My last name
is
McDonald.” She smiled, feeling relaxed, despite her earlier worries. Marc had always teased her that she had the heart of “Old McDonald” and needed to live in the country. “I want to give my boarders the whole country effect. Fresh eggs and fresh milk and cream from a cow. Of course, I'll need to learn—”

“I'm not drinkin' no milk out-uv-a cow!” Gil grunted from the backseat. He had his arm around Bogie and his expression was as full of disgust as his voice.

Nate chuckled. “It all comes out of a cow, pardner.”

“Ugh. I'll pretend it didn't. I mean, I want a cow and a baby calf. But I really want a goat. I heard they eat
anything.
Back home, Bobby Jackson said his grandpa's goat ate a tire. A whole tire!”

“That would be pretty neat.” Nate met Polly's gaze with a slight smile. Polly's stomach tilted.

He drove into the parking lot of the vet clinic and parked in front of the brick building. Nate held the door open for them as they all entered. Polly was brushing past him when she bumped into Bogie. She would have gone down if Nate hadn't reached out and grasp her elbow.

“Whoa, there,” he said gently.

Looking up, Polly's legs felt boneless. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

“Nate, how in the world are you?”

The squeal drew Polly's attention to the woman sitting behind the desk. She was in her mid to late fifties and she was holding both hands outstretched, a diet soda in one hand and a pen with a flower stuck on the end of it in the other. She slammed the can down on the counter and rammed the flowering pen behind her ear as she came around the counter and gave Nate a hug. Nate's expression was comical as he found himself with his arms trapped against his side while being lifted off the floor by the rail-thin woman.

“Ain't he just the cutest thing you ever saw?” she said, setting him down. Grinning, she goosed him in the sides before turning to Polly. Nate was as pink as Pollyanna's great aunt Merna's rouge!

The brazen woman winked and scrunched her face. “That's a perk of my job, getting to hug all the cute cowboys. Gotta tell you, though, this one here…” She clucked her tongue as she zipped back around the counter. “He's special. It was a shame when the good Lord left him a widower. Just don't know what He's thinking sometimes.”

The words, so plainspoken, might have been almost irreverent, except that there was kindness in her eyes and Polly saw that it was evident that Beth, as Nate introduced her, just spoke what was in her heart. Polly liked her instantly, no tiptoeing around for this one.

“It's nice to see things moving forward,” Beth continued, looking from Pollyanna to Nate, her meaning obvious. Okay
some
tiptoeing might be nice, Polly thought as her gaze shot to Nate. She knew her consternation mirrored his own.

“Nate says you can get me a goat,” Gil piped up, drawing Beth's attention.

Polly breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden subject shift.

“Like I told Nate when he called, my parents would love to
give
you a goat,” Beth said. “They're actually getting out of the business because they want to travel more and the goats tie them down too much.”

“We need a goat that likes to eat,” Gil said, scooting up to the counter. “One that likes tires. They got one of them?”

Beth chuckled, the silk flower tucked at her ear jiggling. “Well, honey, this is your lucky day. I know just the goat for you. I'll call them right now.”

Polly was smiling at Gil when the door from the examining room opened and a striking woman with a glistening blond ponytail stepped into the waiting room. It was probably Polly's imagination, but she thought Nate took a step behind her as the woman settled amazing eyes on him. Amazing eyes that, Polly realized with interest, were looking at Nate as if he were a Hershey Bar.

“Hello, Nate,” she drawled in a silky southern voice. “I haven't seen you in ages.”

So that was how it was, Pollyanna thought, glancing at Nate. Maybe he wasn't as reclusive as everyone thought.

 

Nate took one look at the you-never-called-me-but-the-offer-still-stands smile of Susan's and wanted to turn tail and run for the hills. He sure hoped Pollyanna didn't notice he'd stepped closer to her. He'd actually forgotten about Susan for a few minutes, he'd been so busy talking to Gil. If it hadn't been for having seen Gil's devastation at the prospect of losing Pepper, and feeling a need to help Pollyanna, he wouldn't be standing here in the first place.

He'd been using this clinic for years, but Doc Riggs had retired a little over a year ago and his practice had been bought by Susan. She was single and had asked him out the first time she'd come out to help him pull a calf. Nate had been uncomfortable around her ever since. It wasn't that she wasn't a nice woman, she seemed to be, it had just shaken him up. Kayla had been dead for only two years when Susan had first asked him out. He hadn't gotten used to the idea that he was a single man, much less that he was date material—he'd still felt like he was a married man. Susan asking him out made him realize that people thought it was time for him to move on.

Move on.

The words still made his stomach roll.

He pushed the thoughts aside and focused.

“Hello,” he said as Susan looked from him to Pollyanna, then back again. “I've been keeping pretty busy,” he hedged. “This is Pollyanna McDonald.” He looked from Susan to Pollyanna.

Speculation laced Pollyanna's eyes and it made him more uncomfortable than before.

“We're Nate's new neighbors,” she offered, holding out her hand to shake Susan's.

“And we're gonna look at some goats after you fix Bogie's eye,” Gil chimed in.

Susan settled questioning eyes on Nate. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to date anyone and he didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea, either. He reached for Bogie. “If you'll lead the way, I'll carry this big brute in for you,” he said taking control of the situation.

He was relieved when Susan turned and led the way into the cramped examination room. Nate held the wiggling dog while Susan moved in too close for comfort to examine him. The dog, that is. But Nate was acutely aware he was still under the microscope himself. The examination only took a few minutes, but they were some of the most uncomfortable minutes of Nate's life.

“It was nice to meet you, Susan,” Pollyanna said as they were leaving with a prescription of antibiotics and the suggestion that Bogie wear the cone another few days.

Nate all but herded Pollyanna and Gil as he pushed them toward the door.

“I'm sure I'll see you again,” Pollyanna said, pausing. Nate rammed into her. “I have a regular zoo at my house. Do you work with birds and turtles?”

Susan laughed, leaning against the door frame. “Yes, I do. And goats, too.”

Nate nudged Pollyanna. “Thanks. We better be getting to that goat,” he said, knowing that would at least get Gil moving.

Susan followed them as far as the porch. “The next time I'm out Mule Hollow way, I might stop by and visit your little farm.”

“Oh!” Polly exclaimed, spinning and drawing Nate up short again. “That would be unbelievably nice of you. I'll give you directions—”

“There's no need. If you're Nate's neighbor, I can find you. I'll stop in and say hi to you, too, Nate.” She smiled at him, her meaning more than clear. “See y'all later.”

Nate nodded. What else could he do? He was certain he was as red as the old work rag balled up on the dashboard of his truck. It was as much from frustration as anything.

“She seems nice,” Pollyanna commented when they were finally on the road again.

“Yeah,” he grunted, not at all interested in discussing who was nice and who wasn't. When he'd married Kayla he'd married her for life. He'd been off the market the first time he ever saw her. And as far as he was concerned he still was.

With the way Pollyanna looked, he was more than confident she'd had her fair share of attention since her husband's death.

He wondered how she felt about the subject.

“B
ert! No, Bert!”

At the sound of Gil's excited screams, Polly dropped her paint roller and raced to the open doorway. Her heart was pounding as she ran down the steps and around the side of the house. Two days ago they'd gone to buy a baby goat and instead they'd come home with Bert. Bert was a crotchety old billy goat, older than dirt. She'd tried to talk Gil into picking out a baby goat, but the moment he'd heard Bert's story he'd wanted the old goat. Since the older couple was getting out of the goat business, they said no one wanted Bert because he was old and ornery. Gil had said the baby goats would get homes, but that they had to take Bert so he would have a place to live. And so it was that Bert had come to live with them. He'd immediately started following Gil around like a puppy, nibbling at him as if he were a cookie. And Bogie was being terrorized. Bert loved trying to eat his collar.

It hadn't taken her long to realize that between Bert and Gil, she was going to pass gray and go straight to white hair. Just yesterday she'd caught both of them standing on top of the feed shed. How either of them got there she couldn't exactly say. The only good thing was that the shed was only about twelve feet off the ground. Compared to three stories, it seemed somewhat tame in perspective. Still, as she raced around the house, she wasn't sure what to expect.

It wasn't until she'd reached the side yard that she realized Gil's squeals were from laughing.

Bert had knocked Gil down, had latched on to a button on his shirt and was trying to eat it.

Polly rushed forward, grabbed the goat's collar and tried to pull him away from Gil. “Let go, Bert. Let go
oo.
” Bert wasn't giving up the button and Gil wasn't helping, since he was too busy giggling to save himself. And why would she expect anything different? He
had
wanted a goat that would eat tires! Polly was out of breath when she finished wrestling with the now-calm goat. He'd gotten his prize during the scuffle, and stood happily chewing the button, watching her with black eyes from beneath his bushy eyebrows. His white goatee moved up and down with the rhythm of his jaw, making him resemble Applegate Thornton, one of the older men who sat up at Sam's Diner playing checkers every morning.

Polly was beginning to wonder at the wisdom of wanting a goat in the first place. He'd started eating her bushes the instant they'd unloaded him. He tried to eat anything he could get his mouth around. She'd had to guard her tulips constantly. Nate had warned her that an old goat might be more than she was bargaining for, but she'd chosen not to take his advice.

The man was big on advice.

“Gil, honey, how did he get out of his pen?” The animal obviously couldn't be contained. He always got out.

“I don't know. I think he ate the latch.”

Polly wouldn't doubt that for a minute. She stomped to the back of the house to the gate beside the shed. Sure enough, the rope that had been tied to the metal gate and latched to the nail on the post was gone.

She looked around for it on the ground, but it was nowhere. “Did you take the rope, Gil?”

“Nope. Bert musta ate it. If he'll eat Bogie's collar and my buttons he'll eat a rope. 'Cause it can't fight back.”

“You've got a point, kiddo. How did he get you on the ground back there?”

“When I was bent over tying my shoestrings he snuck up on me and butted me with his head and sent me flying. Man, it was awesome. I hit the ground and rolled like a
hundred times
before I stopped. My head was spinning—”

“Are you okay?” Polly gasped, fearing she'd made a bad judgment.

“Are you kidding? It was
awesome!
”

Boys.
“Come on, let's go find something else to use as a latch.”

“Yeah, something Bert can't eat,” Gil said, following her into the small shed. “Mom, do you like Nate?”

Startled, Polly paused digging through a bin of odds and ends. “Well, sure I do. He's a good neighbor.”

Gil kicked a can and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I think that woman vet did, too. Did you see the gooey way she was looking at him?”

Who wouldn't have? She'd also noticed that she was using Polly as an excuse to drop by his place for a visit. But it wasn't any of her business. She just wondered if Susan noticed how uneasy her attentions made Nate? It hadn't taken Polly but a moment to realize that if it hadn't been for them he'd have run.

“There's a chain,” Gil yelped, efficiently bringing Polly's thoughts back to the moment.

Looking up to where he was pointing, she spotted the chain coiled on the top shelf. “Yep, that's a chain, all right. But now I need a ladder to get to it and a ladder I don't have.”

“There's a bucket back here,” Gil exclaimed, disappearing out the door.

Polly hurried after him to the end of the shed where he was tugging a five-gallon feed bucket out of a tangle of honeysuckle growing over the fence and up the side of the shed. Bert hadn't gotten to it yet, but Polly had no doubts he'd take care of it soon enough.

“That'll work great.” Taking it from him, she headed back inside.

“It's a good thing I found it before Bert did or he'd eat it.” Gil laughed. “I'm gonna go make sure he's not eatin' poor ole Bogie.”

“That might be a good idea. And please keep him away from my tulips,” she called, setting the bucket down and stepping onto it. Wobbling, she grasped the lower shelf to steady herself, then stretched up for the chain.

And that's when she saw the snake!
A big black snake.

A scream lodged in Polly's throat as she toppled off the bucket to her knees, her heart thundering like a burst of dynamite. Scrambling up, she stumbled out the door faster than a speeding…faster than a—Well, she was too scared to think of what she was running faster than, but she was certain if someone had been watching they'd find her evacuation of the shed spectacularly entertaining on several different levels.

A hero she most definitely wasn't when it came to snakes. She didn't stop moving until she was almost to the house. Logic told her she'd probably scared the snake as badly as it had scared her. Only problem was, she didn't care. It could have her shed! Just thinking about its beady little eyes made her recoil.

What now?

Polly paced back and forth. She knew the answer. She didn't like the answer, but she knew she had to dig deep and somehow find the courage to go back in there and reclaim her territory.

It was probably just a chicken snake. Like that mattered to her! Snakes—chicken, grass or nasty—gave her the creeps.

She paced some more. Marc had always dealt with the awful creatures. “Don't you laugh,” she scolded out loud. Marc's memory was suddenly so alive, as if he were standing beside her chuckling in his playful baritone. He'd had a great sense of humor—not that this was funny. But if he were here he'd be laughing while watching her work up the gumption to go back and attack.

He'd called her tenacity for overcoming obstacles her gumption. And he'd loved it. He never knew that most of the time it was his strength that had fueled hers. With him by her side, she'd felt as if she could do anything.

Halting, Polly stared at the shed. Since Marc's death there had been so many things she'd had to learn to do alone. Talking to him gave her courage. “I can do this.”

Sure you can.

Like so many other times when she'd thought she couldn't do something, she could almost hear his voice speaking from her heart giving her courage…and making her ache with missing him. She straightened her shoulders.

“Sure I can,” she muttered. “I can climb this mountain, too.” And she could. Then she thought about the broken water valve and hesitated. For just a moment. “You will do this,” she demanded. If anyone were watching they'd think she'd lost her marbles. Looking up toward a clear blue heaven, she frowned. “But, just so you know. I'm never going to speak to you again if I have a heart attack and die trying to get rid of that snake.” That said, she sucked in a deep breath and stomped forward.

There was a hoe leaning against the side of the shed, and she grabbed it with trembling fingers. “Mr. Snake, you're going down.”

Her steps tentative, she lifted the hoe, banged it on the side of the shed and waited a moment. She tapped it again for good measure before finally sticking her head inside the open doorway. She shuddered and her heart thumped out the theme song to
Jaws
as she stepped inside….

“Is something wrong?”

“Whaaat!”
Polly screamed, spinning around, hoe ready for war. Nate Talbert! The big bazooka was standing in the doorway right behind her. Blocking her exit!

“Whoa, careful with that thing. I didn't mean to startle you,” he said, holding his hands up like a shield.

“Didn't your mother teach you not to sneak up on people?” Polly snapped, pushing past him and storming out into the open yard. “You scared the daylights out of me.” As if he couldn't tell.

“Sorry,” he said, following her. Stopping in front of her, his hands on his hips, his booted feet planted shoulder width apart, he studied her. And she…she studied him right back, the bum! The very idea, sneaking up on her like that…looking all strong and appealing—she corrected that thought—capable. He looked capable! Lightbulb moment!
He
could kill a snake. Or catch it, or scare it off. Like he'd just done to her.

“It was a snake.” She shivered. “I
hate
snakes.”

Nate's mouth quirked on the edges, his eyes lit with understanding and he reached for the hoe. “I'll take care of this.”

“Hi-ya, Nate,” Gil said, coming around the side of the house, Bogie and Bert running behind him. “You found her. I told you she was back here.”

Nate smiled. “Yep, I found her in the shed just like you told me—”

“No, Bert!” Gil interrupted when Bert suddenly latched on to Bogie and started tugging. Bogie barked and tried to back away while Gil pulled on Bert and Bert pulled on the mutilated collar.

“Its okay, Bogie,” Polly soothed, taking the harassed pup's side as the tug-of-war ensued. Bogie shook his head back and forth frantically, and Bert held on like glue, knocking poor Gil around like a kid on a bucking bull.

“Help!” Polly laughed, looking up toward Nate. He tossed the hoe out of the way and grabbed for Bogie, too. The instant he added his strength to the opposing side, Bert let go. Probably out of sheer meanness. The lack of resistance sent Polly, Nate and Bogie thudding to the ground.

Nate started laughing. She did, too.

“You two okay?” Gil asked, grinning quizzically at them with his hands on his hips.

Polly nodded and met Nate's eyes just as his laughter trailed off and Polly saw his eyes shadow. “Gil,” she said gently. “Why don't you take poor Bogie inside. He's been traumatized enough for one afternoon. I'll take care of Bert. You can have some cookies and milk.”

“Grrreat!”

She watched him jog off, then glanced at Nate. “Are you okay?”

He stood, his expression grim, his eyes so grief stricken that Polly thought she'd never seen anything so wounded in all of her life. Except she had. She recognized it as the look she saw in her own eyes when she looked in a mirror after something happened to make her miss Marc anew. Grief came in unrelenting, devastating waves like that. Even years later.

Instead of answering, Nate held out a hand to her. Unsteadily, she slipped hers into his and let him tug her up. His eyes remained cheerless as he turned away and strode to the fence. So alone, Polly thought, her heart wrenching as she watched him, his shoulders hunched as he stared out toward the pond below.

Polly wondered for a second if she was just imagining things. What made her think that she could read his mind? She didn't really know Nate. But her heart told her she was right. He was thinking about his wife.

Taking a deep breath, she went to stand beside him. “It's hard, missing them,” she said softly.

The only sign that he heard her was the slight nod of his head. Polly respected his response, if he wanted to share he would. She simply wanted him to know she would listen if he needed someone to talk to. Her gaze lingered on his unyielding profile that only moments ago had been alive with laugh lines. She longed to ease his pain.

“Yes,” he admitted finally, his voice cracking. His eyes softened for a moment before he brought the shields back up. In silence they watched a couple of birds play a game of carefree chase out over the pond.

“What was her name?” Polly asked softly, curious about the woman he'd obviously loved so much, and realizing that she had yet to ask for that important piece of information.

She felt his smile as his entire countenance shifted beside her. “Kayla.”