Next Door Daddy (16 page)

T
he community center was on Main Street, just down the sidewalk from Sam's Diner, and the party was in full swing when Polly and Nate walked in. Someone was singing from the stage at the front of the community center. Polly marveled at the town she'd moved to. It was so full of life. As she took a deep breath and walked into the midst of everyone, Nate at her side, she was troubled.

“Would you like some punch?” Nate asked, leaning in toward her so she could hear him over all the laughter, chatter and singing that filled the room.

“That would be nice.” Her throat was unusually dry.

Nate squeezed her elbow. “I'll be right back.”

Watching him stride through the crowd, she still couldn't believe that she'd, well, she'd agreed to try to
move forward
like this. When she'd awakened this morning, it was not with the thought that today she would agree to try to leave her past behind. Leave Marc behind. Yet she'd done it.

Standing in the midst of the crowd without Nate beside her to muddle her thoughts, she wondered about herself.

She'd had good, valid reasons for not wanting to ever fall in love and remarry. But Nate had stolen past all those reasons and sent her head and heart into a state of confusion. She wasn't even certain if that described what she was feeling. She cared for Nate. There was no denying it. But was that all it was?

She closed her eyes, alone in a sea of people, the variables of her situation swirling around her. Did she love Nate Talbert? The question crowded out everything else. She'd known it was floating around back there, but she'd refused to acknowledge it before. And with good reason.

She didn't want to love him.

So she wouldn't.

“Punch for the lady.”

Polly jumped. “Thank you.” Her hand trembled as she took the cup.

“You're welcome.” Nate sounded happy as he stepped close and rested his hand possessively at the small of her back, sending ripples of awareness along her skin.

Glancing around, she realized that others were noticing how close Nate was standing, and his attentiveness to her. Esther Mae waved with the serving knife she was using to slice the wedding cake, openly beaming with excitement.

Applegate and Stanley were ambling toward them from one direction and Polly saw the speculation in their wizened old eyes. Her instinct was to step back to get away from the questions she knew were coming. What she did instead was step up against Nate, who reacted by sliding his arm around her waist and hugging her to him.

“Careful, there. It'll be okay. They're on our side.”

She glanced up at him, and his reassuring smile washed over her. She knew it was true. Still, she felt like she was on a Tilt-A-Whirl. With no protective bar.

“You two lookin' mighty cozy tonight,” Applegate said, his voice carrying over the buzz of the room.

“Yup, you two remind me of me and my Elisa Jane. Mighty handsome, if I say so myself.”

Deeply touched, Polly smiled and tried to relax, but Nate's arm remained at her waist and he hugged her again. It was meant to reassure her, but it just made her all the more aware of him. He was holding her like she was his to cherish.

“You two clean up nice,” Nate said, easily taking the focus away from them as App and Stanley turned to give each other a once-over.

“I look better'n him.” Applegate's naturally dower expression brightened with a playful grin.

“You wish,” Stanley grunted.

Polly was smiling when Lacy whipped by. “Like I said, cute couple.” She winked and was gone, loaded down with dirty dishes on her way through the crowd to the kitchen.

It went on like that all night. Cute little remarks meant to encourage. By the time the evening ended she'd relaxed, helped in part by Nate's steadfast support. As they headed home Polly listened to Gil and Nate talk.

A deep sense of contentment settled over her.

They were halfway home when Gil groaned.

“You okay, pardner?” Nate asked.

Polly turned to look at Gil. He looked a little pale. “Do you feel bad?”

“My stomach is bubbling,” he said, and shifted in the seat. “Weddings are sure a good place for cake.”

Nate glanced at Polly and grimaced.

Polly frowned at Gil. “So how many pieces did you have?”

“Five, is all. Of the white cake.”

“Five!” Polly shook her head. “And the chocolate?”

“Only four.” He lay his head back and put his hand on his belly.

“So how's the stomach?” Nate asked, beating Polly.

Gil shrugged. He was starting to look gray. “Aw, that's nothing. I could eat more than that if I wanted.”

He didn't sound too convincing, though. By the time they pulled up in the driveway he didn't look good at all. Polly tried to comfort him from the front seat but he was a sick fella. She didn't even state the obvious, hoping he now realized eating nine pieces of cake and no telling how many cups of punch wasn't the best idea.

As soon as they came to a stop Nate hopped out of the truck and eased him into his arms. “I gotcha, pardner.” Gil groaned and Polly felt for him. “Hang in there,” Nate said, and carried him toward the house. Polly closed the truck door, then jogged ahead and unlocked the front door and held it wide for them.

“This way,” she said when Nate stopped at the base of the stairs. Bogie joined them as they hurried to the second floor. She led them into Gil's room and pulled back his covers. In the corner, beneath the sheet, Pepper stirred in his cage but settled down almost instantly.

“I'll get him ready for bed if you want to get him some medicine or something to make him more comfortable,” Nate said, his voice hushed.

Polly's heart warmed. “Thank you, I'll be right back.”

She hurried down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and the medicine for an upset stomach, then raced back upstairs. Gil and Nat were coming out of the bathroom as she entered Gil's room again. Gil held a wet cloth in his hand and looked pale.

“He should feel a little better,” Nate said as he helped him crawl back beneath the covers.

Understanding what that meant, Polly cringed. “I'm so sorry you had to take care of that.”

“No problem,” Nate said. He moved to the side as Polly filled the spoon with medicine and held it out to Gil. “Take this,” she instructed. “It will help. Though I'm pretty sure Nate was right. What just happened in there is going to help the situation immensely.”

Gil eyed the spoon and groaned. “I gotta?”

“You gotta.”

He heaved a sigh and opened his mouth, resigned to his fate. Polly held in a smile and dutifully stuck the spoon inside. He grimaced as he swallowed, then lay down. “Why does medicine taste so nasty?”

Nate chuckled. “Maybe it's so you'll remember it the next time you decide to eat nine pieces of cake.”

Gil looked up at him. “That cake was
goood.
”

Polly smoothed his hair off his clammy forehead. “You amaze me, dear. Are you hurting now?”

He shook his head.

“You feel like saying your prayers?”

He nodded and closed his eyes. “Thank you for today. The cake was great. For my daddy. My mom and Nate…” His voice trailed off and Polly continued stroking his hair as he prayed. Now she opened her eyes and was content to watch him fall asleep. In less than a minute his breathing evened out.

“He runs at high speed and then crashes,” she whispered, stood and led the way out the door. Bogie had curled up at the foot of his bed and was sleeping, too. He didn't budge when she turned out the light and pulled the door almost shut. Polly wanted to hear Gil if he called.

Nate draped his arm over her shoulders as they walked slowly down the stairs. They were halfway down when she smiled up at him. “That was above and beyond the call of duty. Thank you.”

He stopped walking and turned her in his arms. “I know this is going to sound strange, but I enjoyed it.”

Polly chuckled. “You're right, it does sound strange.” She was standing in the circle of his arms and her face was tilted up so she got a close-up view of his smile. It was devastating from two feet away. From this distance it was a lethal weapon. Coupled with having just gallantly taken care of her son tossing his cookies and not complaining about it, the man was simply irresistible.

“You know I'd do anything for you and Gil.”

Polly sighed and lay her head against his powerful chest, taking comfort in the feel of his arms tightening around her. He kissed the top of her head and she sighed.

She believed him.

When she looked up, he seemed to be waiting and their lips were but a breath away from each other's. He waited, as if to give her a chance to turn away. When she didn't, he lowered his lips to hers.

Her knees almost buckled at the tender touch of his lips to hers. When his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, her blood started pounding in her ears as emotions raged inside her.

“I'm sorry.” Polly yanked away, stepping back to clutch the banister. “I can't.”

 

Dan Dawson had come to put new shoes on Taco and Nate's other three horses. Nate had avoided town almost completely the first year after Kayla died. He'd even driven the seventy miles to Ranger for groceries just so he wouldn't have to see the pity in everyone's eyes. His friends had let him know they were there for him, but for the most part they'd given him the space he needed to grieve. He'd started humoring them a bit during the past year in an attempt to squelch the aching loneliness that he'd began to hate and grow weary of.

Dan had been one of the few people who'd seen him on a regular basis during that entire time. When Nate's horses needed shoes, they needed shoes. And Dan Dawson was the man for the job.

They were friends.

That being the case, Dan was pushing their friendship to the limit.

Nate had been in a foul mood since he'd escorted Pollyanna to Jake's wedding. He was about as wound up as a bull in a squeeze chute.

“So, you going to talk about it? Or you just going to stand there and smolder?” Dan asked as he settled the new shoe on Taco's rear hoof. He'd been working for a while and Nate had known this was coming. Because his head was down Dan didn't see the warning Nate shot his way.

“Nope.”

“Come on, man, you cannot tell me you aren't interested in that good-looking woman.” He didn't have to say her name for Nate to know who the good-looking woman in question was. He knew everyone in town was talking about him and Pollyanna. Speculating.

Nate ground his jawbone. He had no intention of discussing Pollyanna.

“So that's how it is?” Dan all but cooed.

Nate leaned against the corral and propped his boot behind him on the bottom slat. Better that than kicking it in like he'd contemplated a few times over the past few days.

Dan looked up from his work. “Look, man, when I saw the both of you together at Jake's wedding, I thought maybe things were moving along. That the two of you were an item.”

No comment. Nate had thought so, too.

“She'd be good for you.”

“How do you know what would be good for me?” Nate exploded, then yanked his hat off and slapped it against his thigh, shooting the other cowboy a warning glare. “Mind your own business, Dan.”

Dan was more likely to grow wings. He grinned. “Now, that's more like it. You are alive and well inside that head of yours. Female companionship is good for any man. Giving up a rib was a good idea, if you ask me.”

Nate slammed his hat back on and crossed his arms. “Then why aren't you out there pounding the pavement in search of a Mrs. Dawson?”

Completely unaffected by Nate's irritation, Dan shrugged. “Who says I'm not?” He grinned a slow smile, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “If you don't make a move on that neighbor of yours, I figure I'm going to do a little research in that direction myself.”

Nate clenched his fist. “The last thing she needs is someone just looking for a little fun.” Dan would have to go through him before he let him do anything that might hurt Pollyanna. He'd moved faster than she could accept. He'd been a straight-out fool and been shot out of the saddle because of it.

“I'm insulted, Nate,” Dan drawled.

“Yeah, right.”

Dan released Taco and straightened. “So I was right. That's how it is.”

Nate watched Dan swagger to his tool trailer, his words cutting close. “What's that mean?” he asked, more for Dan's sake than his own. He knew how he felt about Pollyanna. He'd known it since the night after he'd come back from Fort Worth. He'd known it since that night, sitting in Kayla's swing when he'd let her go.

He'd known it sitting on that bench back behind the church that he was in love with Pollyanna McDonald. But she had barely agreed to try to step forward with him. He'd seen it in her eyes. He should have known she wasn't ready to be kissed. Yet foolishly he'd let his brain go out to pasture while he made the mistake of his life.