Shifting the bakery box to his other hand, Zeke rang the doorbell at 102 Oak Lane, a small yellow cottage, the postage-stamp yard covered in snow from the last storm. After Molly left this afternoon, he’d gone into his office to do some prep for a few meetings he’d scheduled for Monday, but he’d been unable to stop thinking about the cake in the street. A baby’s birthday cake. He had to replace it. There was only one bakery in town, and just down Main Street on the other side, so he’d gone there.
The door opened and there was Molly in yoga pants and a Wyoming Cowboys sweatshirt, her gorgeous wild curls loose past her shoulders. She held a bunch of helium balloons—and frowned at the sight of him. “Zeke? You’re not here to take it all back, are you? I don’t have the job?”
He smiled. “You absolutely do. I just figured I’d bring you this.” He held up the cake box. “A new and improved strawberry shortcake. I had them write Happy 1st Birthday, Lucy on it in pink.”
She gasped, her free hand going to her chest, and stared at the box for a moment. “How incredibly thoughtful of you, Zeke. Wow. Thank you.”
“Well, like I said, strawberry shortcake is my favorite, so I couldn’t imagine Lucy not trying her very first slice. I mean, it is her birthday.”
Molly grinned. “She’s—”
“Waaah!” came a high-pitched shriek. “Waaah!”
“Uh-oh,” Molly said. “I’d just got her down for her nap, too. Her party starts in two hours and I’ve got a ton to do. Usually my mom comes to my rescue but my cousin’s son had to be picked up sick from school and my dad is superbusy with his new retirement venture, so I’m on my own.”
The phone rang. Then another one rang. “Oh, God, landline and cell at the same time! Ahhh!” She threw her hands up in the air, the balloons drifting up to the ceiling. She slapped her hand to her forehead.
Zeke held back his smile. “Tell you what. You answer the phones and do what you need to. I’ll go get Lucy. My brother Noah calls me the baby whisperer. I pick up one of his crying twins and they instantly stop bawling, little hands pulling my ears.”
Her eyes brightened. “First door down that hallway!” she tossed over her shoulder as she ran for the phone on the coffee table. The landline was still blaring away.
“Waaah! Waaah!”
“Coming, Lucy,” he called. He glanced around as he headed down the hall. The house was small but cozy, nicely decorated in what his sister would call beach-cottage-chic with white walls, pale blue sofas, pillows with embroidered starfish, shag rugs and lots of driftwood furnishing. He arrived at the nursery, Lucy stenciled on the door in pink and purple script. He went inside to find the baby girl screaming bloody murder again in her crib. She stood, holding on to the railing. “Hey, there,” he said. “I’ve got you.” The sound of his voice had her quiet for a moment, her big brown eyes, just like her mom’s, fixed on him. She held up her arms.
He took off his suit jacket and tossed it on the glider chair beside the window, then reached for the baby and brought her to his chest. “How does such a little human make such a big sound? Huh? Can you tell me that?”
Lucy didn’t answer or even look up at him. She was too busy fighting her drooping eyes, her little fist grabbing at a button on his shirt. He patted and rubbed her back and sang her what he remembered of the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” song, and the baby’s mouth gave a quirk, then the eyes finally closed for good.
“Success,” he whispered with one final gentle pat. “How I’m the baby whisperer of Bear Ridge when I don’t even want a baby of my own is beyond me, but some things are mysteries, right, Lucy?”
“Well, that’s a shame. You really are the baby whisperer.”
Startled, he turned to find Molly in the doorway, the balloons in her hand again.
“Usually when Lucy wakes up during a nap,” she said, “especially early on, she’s impossible to get back to sleep. I owe you—again.”
He grinned. “Just the uncle touch. My brother Rex’s baby girl is around Lucy’s age and loves me. I’m her new favorite. Drives Rex nuts. He was the old favorite till I showed up in town.”
Molly grinned. “Yup, Lucy’s new favorite is my cousin Stella. She has a red heart tattooed above her eyebrow—for real, and wears sparkly green eyeshadow. No one can compete with all that fun glam.”
He glanced down at the baby asleep in his arms. She really was precious, as her nana had called her. Big rosy cheeks, bow lips, curly brown hair that promised to be just like her mom’s. She wore purple fleece pj’s that said Baby Power across the front.
“I’ll put her back in the crib,” he said, heading over. He set her down, expecting her to screech any second, but she transferred perfectly, not a peep. His twin niece and nephew, Annabel and Chance, were champion nappers, but Tony, his sister Daisy’s baby, required tricks.
In the two weeks he’d been back in town, he’d spent time with his siblings and had done some babysitting, making up for all the moments he’d missed. Being the uncle was easy; after an hour or two of playtime, he could leave. How his siblings had taken to parenthood was beyond him. They’d had the same cruddy upbringing he had. Noah and Daisy, his youngest siblings, had lost their mother when they were kids; they’d been raised by Bo Dawson. And they were the first two to marry and become parents. Not necessarily in that order, but still. They seemed like such naturals at it—the doting, the caretaking, the love. Everything. Axel and Rex, who he’d also thought the two least likely people alive to become dads, were now hoisting their own little ones and nieces and nephews up in the air, proudly wearing their Wyoming’s Best Dad sweatshirts that Daisy had given them as stocking stuffers last Christmas. Was it the Bear Ridge water? Something in the air, maybe? The ranch soil? Now that he was back, would he suddenly turn into a family man? He didn’t see it. He’d have to ask his brother Ford—the other holdout. As the eldest Dawson sibling, Ford had seen it all.
“How many nieces and nephews do you have?” Molly asked as they left the nursery and headed down the hall.
“Well, there are the twins—my brother Noah’s kids. And Tony, my sister Daisy’s son. Then there’s Axel’s son, Danny, who’s two and will be getting a sibling soon. And Rex has Chloe. She’ll be one soon. I think.” He shot her a sheepish smile. “I might have all that completely wrong. My calendar tracks their birthdays.”
She grinned. “Well, as your new admin, I can take over that.”
“No way,” he said. “I don’t assign personal stuff. That’s not your job.”
Her entire face brightened and he was suddenly struck with the urge to kiss her.
Whoa. What? This was his new employee. In an oversize Wyoming Cowboys sweatshirt and navy yoga pants. Where had the burst of attraction come from? Molly wasn’t his type at all. Danica Dunbar had always been his ideal and he’d been drawn to that look in college and at work over the years—tall busty blondes with easy laughter and long nails. He loved long, polished nails and jewelry that clinked.
Jada, his ex, was all of that, and she’d burned and betrayed him. So maybe the urge to kiss Molly—not tall, not blonde, not particularly busty, no makeup, short, unpolished nails and no jewelry, in sweats—was about a break in that type. His brain protecting him from what had happened in Cheyenne.
Except Danica was exactly that type. Then again, she was the original.
He glanced at Molly, suddenly confused by his crazy train of thoughts.
“Not to speak ill of my last boss,” she said as she led the way into the kitchen, where she set the bakery box on the counter. “But ugh, what a jerk! He had me send flowers to women he dated and even asked me to pick out sexy lingerie for his last girlfriend. I finally had had enough and quit without having another job lined up. Irresponsible, I know, given that I have a baby to support. But the last straw was when—” She clamped her mouth shut and turned away. “Anyhoo. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?”
He frowned, wondering what she’d been about to say. He hated the idea of anyone harassing her or causing her grief. “Well, I can assure you that I run my office in a very professional manner.”
But he had just been thinking about kissing her. She did have a lovely face, so warm and open, her lips plump and pink, the big brown eyes so intelligent and curious.
She laughed, loud and happy, the sound making him smile. He just liked Molly, liked being around her, liked her as a person. She was easy to talk to, easy to be with, and as his new employee, of course he was interested in her as a human being. She’d soon play a major role in his life. Of course he hadn’t wanted to kiss her—he just enjoyed her company, was all.
“I don’t have macadamia,” she said, gesturing at her coffee maker, “but I do have hazelnut. And Jamaican Me Crazy. My personal favorite.”
He’d actually love to sit down at her small, round kitchen table with the stained-glass vase of orange flowers and have a cup of her favorite coffee. Molly Orton relaxed him, and between opening his own consulting firm and moving back to his hometown, he’d been wound tight. But he couldn’t stay. Unfortunately.
“Actually, I can’t,” he said. “I’m on babysitting duty for Axel’s toddler. That kid keeps me on my toes. He’s actually a faster runner than I am. Tell Lucy I said happy birthday, okay?”
She tilted her head, her wild curls falling to the side. “I sure will. And thank you again. For the cake. For being a baby whisperer.” A phone rang again. “Never stops,” she said. “I’m letting that go to voice mail. I have a huge extended family. And everyone wants to know what to get Lucy for her birthday. I keep telling my relatives and friends to just bring themselves, but I have a feeling this tiny house is going to be full of giant stuffed animals and Fisher-Price toys that make lots of noise.”
He smiled. “Yup, you should see my siblings’ houses. Except Ford’s.”
“Ah, yes, you said you two were the last holdouts for marriage and kids.”
“Well, he actually wants to get married, so it won’t be long before I’m the sole lone Dawson around the table at the next family event.”
Unless of course things worked out with Danica Dunbar. If anyone could get him down the aisle and thinking about kids, she could. Life had a funny way of working out. Nothing would surprise Zeke Dawson anymore.
“You’re not planning on getting married?” she asked. “Like ever?”
The phone rang again, interrupting a conversation he really didn’t want to have, anyway, though he was the one who’d brought up the subject—twice, he realized. “I’ll let you get that,” he said. “Enjoy the party.”
She gave him a warm nod and walked him to the door. “See you Monday. And thanks again, Zeke. Really.”
The moment he was on the other side of the door of her little yellow cottage, he wanted to be back inside, talking, having that Jamaican Me Crazy coffee. When was the last time he talked so easily with a woman? Even with Jada, who he’d actually gotten serious about, their chemistry had been off but he’d ignored it because she was beautiful and they had so much in common. Until he discovered she was two-timing him with a rival and probably sharing company secrets that they’d talked about late at night in bed.
He’d even tossed marriage around in his head a few times before that, wondering if he could do it, be that man with all his bad memories of what marriage was. His dad had been married three times, widowed the last go-around, which had done a number on him. His mom, who lived on a small farm in Florida, had remarried and was happy, but whenever Zeke seriously thought about marriage and kids for himself, he’d feel his shirt collar tighten and a strange acidic sensation in his gut. Yeah, maybe he would talk to Ford, who had said a few times in the past couple months that he was ready to settle down. Zeke had no idea what that would even feel like—the want.
He glanced at Molly’s door, at the winter wreath in the shape of a heart. Maybe it was time to get past all those old thoughts humming just below the surface. He might be a success at business, but his track record in romance had him in the red when it came to his personal life. If he was going to start dating Danica, he should be serious about it, expect the relationship to go somewhere. Her beautiful face came to mind again, but then Molly’s face popped into his head and baby Lucy with a big slice of strawberry shortcake on her high chair.
He smiled, thinking of her enjoying the cake he’d brought over. He’d have to ask his brothers and sister if babies could even eat birthday cake. He really had no idea.
“See you Monday,” he whispered to the door, vaguely aware that he was really looking forward to that.
On Sunday night, Molly laid out two possible first-day-of-work outfits on her bed, wishing she had more style. Navy or winter white. Bo-ring. Molly had always been a conservative dresser, neutrals—she was very fond of shades of beige—high necklines, small earrings. But now that she wanted a shot with Zeke Dawson, a man who not only brought over a new birthday cake for her baby girl—with writing on it—but had cared for her when she’d woken up from her nap so that Molly could answer her never-stop-ringing phone, she wanted to stand out just a little.
Enough to make Zeke see her as more than his capable new assistant.
“What do you think, sweetsums?” she asked Lucy, who was careening around Molly’s bedroom in her ExerSaucer. Lucy wasn’t quite walking yet.
“La pa!” Lucy said with a big grin, batting at the dancing monkey toy on the ExerSaucer.
The monkey wore a white T-shirt and yellow shorts. Molly glanced at the winter-white pantsuit with the sheer yellow scarf beside the navy pantsuit with the red floral scarf. Winter white and yellow scarf, it was.
She smiled and scooped out Lucy, giving her a snuggle. “You might not be talking yet, but you were a big help to me.” Molly gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get you to bed, and then I’ll try on the outfit and accessorize.” For that, she’d FaceTime the very stylish Danica.
As she got Lucy ready for bed and then settled the baby on her lap for a good-night story, she had that sensation again, one she’d had only a few times in her life. That something momentous, thrilling, full of possibilities was about to happen. She’d felt that way the night before her wedding to her now ex-husband, so hopeful about the future. And she’d felt that way all during her pregnancy, despite being unexpectedly single and scared. And she’d felt that way this past Friday afternoon when Zeke had hired her without an interview.
Molly glanced down at Lucy sprawled against her on the glider and realized she’d been so immersed in her thoughts she’d bored her baby girl to sleep. She’d just transferred Lucy to her crib when her iPad chimed. Danica on FaceTime.
“Just wishing you luck for the big first day tomorrow!” Danica said, her favorite green-cucumber mask covering her face. Amazing that even with a green face, Danica Dunbar—Grace Kelly regal meets Marilyn Monroe accessible—was as beautiful as ever. “Not that you need luck,” she continued. “You’ve got this!”
Ever since they’d met in second grade, opposites—even then—somehow becoming best friends, Danica had rivaled Molly’s parents, aunts and uncles, and eight first cousins as her biggest champion, and the Orton clan was hard to top.
At Lucy’s birthday party, Molly had told Danica all about the morning, and Danica had been stunned by Zeke’s generosity. She’d wriggled her eyebrows and said, “Maybe the two of you will fall madly in love.”
Molly had almost choked on the delicious piece of strawberry shortcake she’d been eating. But instead of saying: God, I hope so, she’d said, Oh, no way. He’s my boss. Gotta keep it professional. And I’m sure that’s a rule of his, too. Or it should be.
Why she’d said all that, she had no idea. Was she trying to actually invite Danica to go for him? She knew why she was afraid to put it out there that she was crazy about Zeke Dawson, but still.
“So which do you think, the winter white or navy?” Molly asked, turning the camera to the two pantsuits on the bed.
“With your gorgeous dark hair, the white will really pop,” Danica said. “Though I’m thinking the blue and red floral scarf instead of the yellow—I like the gravitas of that one with the white. Ooh, you should wear your lucky pearl-drop earrings and the watch your parents gave you for your twenty-first birthday.”
Everyone needed a Danica. “What would I do without you?” Molly asked, turning the camera back to herself.
“What would I do without you?” Danica said, gingerly touching her green face to test if the mask was dry. “Because guess what, Mols. I’m taking your advice. From now on, I will only date nice guys.”
Newly divorced, Danica had refused to date until that decree had landed in her mailbox, signed and official. She was now raring to go. Because Molly had had some dating experience—all from Converse County Singles, a local dating app—Danica actually sought out her help on getting back out there. Ha. Danica might have had her heart broken by her cheating ex, but she already had men asking her out left and right in the supermarket and drugstore and coffee shop. The last guy who even responded to Molly’s profile had written: My ex-wife spent a fortune on hair straightening treatments. You’d never know she used to look like she stuck her finger in an electric socket. You should try that. Molly had typed back: You should try some manners, bucko. Then logged off permanently. Like she needed that?
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said at lunch on Friday,” Danica continued. “About the red flags to watch out for on a first date. I’ve got them memorized.”
Molly smiled. Yup, Danica had always been drawn to the Rhett Butlers, the James Deans, the Jordan Catalanos: the rebel with or without a cause. She liked tall, very good-looking men who made her work for their hearts. Ugh. Danica had been doing it since middle school. And all her boyfriends—and her husband—had one thing in common: they were not what Molly or her nana would call nice.
“If he drones on and on about himself and doesn’t ask me a single question about myself, he’s out,” Danica said. “If he stares at the waitress’s breasts or is rude to her while she’s setting down our drinks, he’s out. If he says anything that makes me cringe, he’s out.” She gave a nod. “Not one of my major or not so major relationships was nice. That’s awful. Why didn’t I see that before?”
“Eh, don’t be so hard on yourself. We’re thirty-one now. Divorced. Lived a little. A lot, actually. We’re older and wiser and not about to make the same old mistakes. We know what we want!”
“I love you to death, Molly Orton. I really don’t know what I’d do without you. And that’s been true for almost twenty-five years. Call me after lunch with your boss tomorrow to tell me how the morning went. And I’ll call you tomorrow tonight after my date with the bronc champ.”
Rodeo stars could be nice, right? Molly would give him the benefit of the doubt because Danica was excited about the date. “One not-nice move, no nightcap, no coffee, no invitation in.”
Danica’s eyes widened. “Uh-oh. I can’t even smile with this mask on. Better go wash it off. Have a great first day tomorrow!”
After Molly put away her iPad she tried on the winter-white pantsuit—and it did look good with the little sheer floral scarf and the jewelry Danica had recommended. Though, really, she shouldn’t be trying this hard.
Or maybe she should be. When you really wanted something, you had to go for it. She finally had a chance—remote as it was—with Zeke Dawson in their two-person office, and she was taking it. She’d get a sense of their dynamic at work and go from there. Maybe they’d have no chemistry. Maybe she wouldn’t develop any romantic feelings as she got to know him.
Right. Who was she trying to kid?
“Do babies eat cake?” Zeke asked his sister, Daisy, as she plopped her seven-month-old son, Tony, on his lap.
After a big Sunday family dinner, which he’d learned was a new family tradition for the Dawsons of the Dawson Family Guest Ranch, just he and Daisy sat in the living room of the farmhouse the siblings had grown up in. After his parents’ divorce, Zeke, Rex and Axel, the children from Bo Dawson’s second marriage, had spent half the time at their mother’s house in town, but this place had always been “home.” Zeke had been staying with Daisy, enjoying the extra time with Tony, who was one cute little guy, and access to all his nieces and nephews. Tony was content to sit and chew and shake his teething toy in the shape of a dinosaur.
“Well, they can,” Daisy said, taking a sip of her coffee. “For special occasions. Like Tony’s first birthday—he can definitely have a tiny piece of his own cake. But generally, babies shouldn’t have sugar.” She raised an eyebrow. “Why did you want to know?”
He told her about hiring his new administrative assistant. The entire story poured out of him, which was unusual. Zeke always held back; it was the way in business, and it had carried over into his personal life. He wasn’t a schmoozer. Now he was telling his sister how he’d bought a replacement cake and brought it over to Molly’s and had ended up singing the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” to the birthday girl.
He didn’t mention the strange urge to kiss Molly—the opposite of his usual type. The opposite of Danica Dunbar, his dream woman since eighth grade.
Daisy was beaming. Which meant he’d said way too much. His sister was slightly obsessed with seeing all her brothers married and starting families. Her favorite pastime used to be trying to get them to move back home, and one by one, they all had. Noah was first—he’d actually taken on the role of rebuilding and renovating the ranch, and lived in the foreman’s cabin—forewoman’s he should say, since his wife, Sara, had that role, with their twin one-year-olds. Daisy, who’d come home pregnant and alone to help Noah with the grand reopening last summer, was now guest relations manager for the ranch, and she and her husband, Harrison, a businessman, lived in the farmhouse with Tony. Axel had built himself a log mansion on the far edge of the property that he shared with his expecting wife, Sadie, and their toddler, Danny. Rex had also built a house on the ranch, nestled back by the woods and mountains, for himself and his wife, Maisey, and their baby, Chloe. Ford was staying in the staff cabin that Rex’s wife, the ranch nanny, had lived in before they’d become a couple.
Amazing. All six Dawsons actually living on the ranch. The past couple weeks, Zeke would run into one of his siblings while riding or helping out on the property, and they’d all marvel at the fact that they were back. Especially Ford, who’d once said buffalos would fly across Wyoming before he’d live in Bear Ridge again. Now he was a detective for the Bear Ridge Police Department as was Rex, a former U.S. Marshal. And here was Zeke, who’d figured Cheyenne was home, thinking about his options for a house. In town or on the ranch’s vast property?
Daisy’s blue eyes were twinkling, a sign she was playing matchmaker. “Office romance in the works? Babies have a way of bringing couples together. Look at Rex. He found a message in a bottle—a fifteen-year-old letter to Santa—brought it to the writer, who happened to be a single mom of a six-month-old, and bingo: he and Maisey are married now and raising baby Chloe together.”
He ruffled Tony’s wispy brown hair as the baby chewed on his teether. “Not gonna happen. First of all, I’m not planning on getting married. Or having kids. I’ve told you that. I have a ton of nieces and nephews to spoil. Second of all, I’m Molly’s boss. There’s no way I’d date her.” There. Even if at some point he had a second urge to kiss her, he’d just remind himself that it was inappropriate. He should really create a human resources handbook on policies—including the dating of colleagues. As someone who’d gotten involved with a turned-out-to-be-shady coworker, he’d never do that again.
Again, Molly’s face floated into his mind, all that lush, wild curly hair, the pretty brown eyes. He fought a smile at the thought of her in her sweats. She hadn’t even started at Dawson Solutions yet, and he’d already seen her at home on a weekend. He’d soothed her baby back to sleep. They were clearly becoming friends, and they’d have a friendly working relationship—nothing wrong with that.
“Hmm, just you and her in the office, day after day, both working toward the shared goal of the success of Dawson Solutions, Inc.?” She grinned. “We’ll see.”
The thought of him and Molly working together was like a soothing balm. There was just something trustworthy and capable about her. He’d always considered himself a good judge of character, even if that had been blown to bits by Jada, a snake in a sexy pencil skirt and high heels, and he had a feeling he’d found an admin he could really count on.
He’d hardly ruin that by getting involved with her. And besides, there was only one woman in town he wanted—Danica Dunbar. “Trust me. It’s not like that. I’m interested in someone else.”
His sister practically bounced out of her chair—Daisy was a born matchmaker. “Ooh! Who? Someone I know?”
“I know her from school actually. She always had a boyfriend, though, and now she’s single. Danica Dunbar.”
Daisy rolled her eyes with a smile. “I should have known. The hot blonde Realtor, right?”
“She’s not just a hot blonde, Daisy.”
His sister tilted her head. “Oh? What else is she?”
“Well, I don’t know her. Yet. But I’m sure she’s as lovely a person inside as outside.”
Daisy sipped her coffee. “Why assume that?”
Didn’t he know better than to discuss his love life with his sister? “Maybe I should stay with Rex or Axel,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. Though she wasn’t wrong. Given what happened with Jada and how she’d burned him, he couldn’t assume anything. His trust level was at an all-time low. But he supposed when it came to Danica, there was something kind of mythical about her. He shook his head. He had to remember that Danica was a real person, not some fantasy.
Daisy laughed. “Just saying, Zeke.”
“Anyway, I remember Danica from school. We had a few classes together over the years. She’s perfectly nice. I think Molly was in some of those classes, too.”
“You don’t know?”
“I can’t seem to remember her from school,” he said. “Maybe she changed. Thirteen years is a long time.”
“I’ll check the yearbook,” Daisy said, popping up.
“Why would you have my yearbook?” he asked.
“I’m the keeper of family treasures, heirlooms and memories. I have all your yearbooks.” She went to the bookshelves flanking the stone fireplace and looked through the spines. “Yup, here it is.” She pulled it out and sat back down, taking a sip of her coffee, then opening up. “What was her last name again?”
“Orton. Molly Orton.”
Daisy flipped through pages. “Ah, here she is. She looks kinda familiar. I’ve probably seen her around town.” She put the yearbook faceup on the couch beside him, then scooped up Tony from his lap. “I’ve gotta get him down for his nap. Back in ten.”
“Have a good nap, champ,” he said to Tony, standing to give the adorable, yawning tot a kiss on his head.
As Daisy headed upstairs, he sat back down and took a sip of his own coffee and looked at Molly’s photo. Huh. He did remember her. She wore round silver eyeglasses and her mane of curly brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He would often see her and Danica walking the halls together or chatting in a class they all had. Her senior quote beside her photo was by Eleanor Roosevelt. A woman is like a tea bag. You never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water. Had Molly gotten into hot water? Then? Since? He stared at her picture, suddenly wanting to know more about her. But, of course, that would happen naturally staring tomorrow morning.
He flipped back a few pages until he got to the Ds. Ah, there she was: Danica Dunbar. Damn, she was angelic looking. She’d barely changed in thirteen years. Her senior quote was by another famous Roosevelt—Theodore: Believe you can and you’re halfway there.
He grinned. I do believe. They’d finally have their chance.
He’d definitely talk to Molly about Danica, try to get a little intel. He wouldn’t be unprofessional about it; he wouldn’t even mention his romantic interest. Maybe he’d ask Molly if she knew any great Realtors in town, and she’d mention Danica and offer a personal tidbit or three or ten. His plan was to stop in the realty and ask to meet with Danica about checking out houses in town. Who knew? They could go from a house to dinner and even to bed, depending how things went. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had a whirlwind romance.
Daisy came back downstairs. “So, Zeke, about not planning to get married or have kids. You do know that Danica is your age, right? She probably wants to start a family.”
He put the yearbook away. “Maybe I can be turned around by the right woman.” Maybe. He really wasn’t sure of that at all.
“Hmm, I’m liking the idea of you and Danica together more and more,” she said with a grin. “I need a new niece or nephew.”
He laughed. “There are already a ton of tiny Dawsons.”
“There can never be too many.”
He glanced up at an artful black-and-white photo of Daisy, Harrison and little Tony in the main barn, the goats behind them. He tried to imagine himself in that photo with a wife, a baby. But he couldn’t. Watching his family explode, the stories of his father’s first marriage, his parents’ divorce, his father’s anguish at losing his third wife to cancer, which had exacerbated his drinking. Everything that made Zeke leave Bear Ridge at eighteen and put himself through night school while working in corporate mail rooms during the day, watching how the bigwigs walked and talked and dressed and acted until he himself became one—all those memories were still deep inside him. He didn’t think about them much but he felt the blockage in his chest any time someone brought up marriage—and girlfriends had in the past. Not for me, not a family man, I don’t want kids...
Could the woman of his dreams since middle school change all that? Maybe.
Believe you can and you’re halfway there...
He just wasn’t so sure he did believe it.