One Night with her Bachelor(37)

The rest of the week passed in a blur of activity and exhaustion. She’d hired Lincoln Brady, one of the bachelors, to make alterations to the house so it was more accessible to Josh. Linc’s company would install railings around the bathtub and toilet so Josh could lift himself from his chair into the tub or onto the toilet without her help. The construction crew would lower the bar in Josh’s closet so he could hang up his clothes instead of dumping them on his bed. And they were refitting the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen so he could reach everything he needed. Soon she wouldn’t have to wait on him hand and foot. Soon he could be as independent as he was before—hopefully even more so.

The only thing Molly wouldn’t let the crew touch was the ramp. Linc had shown her a design for a ramp that was sturdier and more polished, but she’d cut him off with, “No one touches the ramp.”

She also spent the week putting her truck up for sale and shopping for a used two-door car. Between that and daily meetings with Josh’s teacher, principal, and school nurse to assess his progress, she was lucky if she could speak anything other than baby babble by the time she got home every afternoon.

When she collapsed into bed, though, she couldn’t tear her thoughts away from Gabriel. She worried about him. He’d clearly been in physical pain when they’d gotten back to her house the other night, and he’d made it clear her sympathy wasn’t welcome. He wasn’t a man who appreciated coddling. If he was, he wouldn’t live off-grid in the mountains. He’d given her so much—her son’s future, gas to visit Josh in Boulder, a way to get him inside the house, and the most erotic, freeing night of her life. What did she have to give him in return? How could she make his life more comfortable?

More than anything, she wanted to see him again. Their agreement had been for one date, one night—but she wanted more.

The Saturday morning after their date, she woke up early and decided to take advantage of Josh’s sleeping in. Still in her cozy PJs, she shuffled into the kitchen and brewed a half pot of coffee. Hoping the newspaper had arrived, she walked down the hall, stuffed herself into her coat, shoved her feet in her boots and opened the door. No newspaper lay on her driveway, but an envelope with her name on it lay on her welcome mat. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but she knew who it was from. Every nerve in her body sizzled to life as she opened it and pulled out a sheet of paper.

M~

Same time next week? Wear your dancing boots, cowgirl.

~G

Before she could knew what she was doing, she’d found her phone and was typing out a text to Lily: Got plans Wednesday night?

*

Why the hell am I doing this?

Gabriel turned off the ancient Discman he’d borrowed from his mom and dropped it gently onto his armchair. His head was full of all the country music he loathed. He’d never been a cowboy. Never wanted anything to do with cowboys. His oldest brother, Wyatt, had been a cowboy, and he’d made Gabriel’s growing-up years hell. Every time Gabriel heard a twang, he wanted to punch someone. But this week, for the first time in his life, he’d bought cowboy boots.

Cowboy boots, for God’s sake.

He’d had to get one with a bit of a heel for his left foot. Because he didn’t want anyone in town to talk, he’d driven all the way to Billings to get them, along with some other clothes, since most of his were ripped or stained. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to go full-on cowboy, so he was wearing a new white button-down shirt and faded old jeans. It was the closest he’d come to a shopping spree in years.

Why the hell am I doing this?

The question had bounced around his head for the past three days. The answer was stupidly simple. Because you want to make Molly smile again. And you’re not a quitter.

Molly wanted to dance, and Gabriel wanted her to be happy. Seeing her smile had been the highlight of his year. It had loosened up the dark, twisted animal inside him that had growled whenever anyone got close. That animal had turned into a puppy, so eager for a few affectionate strokes from Molly’s gentle hand.

He used to enjoy dancing but never got into line dancing. He probably could’ve picked up the moves easily enough, but most of his tastes in life had been formed by figuring out what Wyatt liked and then deciding to love the opposite.

So yeah, he had the rhythm to line dance but, given the state of his left leg, it now seemed like the hardest kind of dancing possible. Stepping in time, heel turns, kick turns… he might as well try break dancing. Neck spins had to be easier than this.

He put the headphones back on and tried to remember the moves his mom had shown him on her computer the night before. Which one was the boot and which the scoot? At what point did he boogie?

He scrubbed his hand down his face. He was going to look like a complete idiot. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t embarrass Molly. Not if he could help it.

He gathered his gear, put on his coat, changed from cowboy boots to hiking boots and hiked down to his truck. Then he went to his mom’s. It was a little before lunchtime when he arrived, but it was her day off so he knew she’d be home. She spent most of her week slinging hash in a diner outside of town. Her day off was the one chance she got to lie on her couch and read all day long. She clearly wasn’t expecting visitors because she looked confused when she first opened the door. When she saw him, she gasped. “Gabriel.”

“Hi, Mom. I need help.”