Page 18 of Dependable Cowboy

Aaron: I’d rather lead from beside them than in front of them, that’s all.

Joy: That’s quite noble of you. How’s your family?

Aaron: Mom and Dad are great. Still, growing those flowers, you know.

Vance and Angie Hunter were known nationwide for the excellence of their blooms on their lavender farm, even though that wasn’t the only thing they cultivated. They’d sewn crops of sunflowers, herbs that grew well in high elevations, berries, and even grape vineyards. The vineyards had only been started when he was in high school, but that’s how he knew Joy would remember them.

Joy: I still remember the smell of all that lavender. Strolling there with you. Playing there when we were little.

They had played, but they’d been warned within an inch of their lives not to damage any of the crops that enabled the Hunters to make their living. Aaron could still hear their constant refrainof, “Don’t step on the flower beds,” or “Don’t step on the berry vines,” in his sleep.

Aaron: Me, too.

Joy: Does it still smell the same?

Aaron: I’ll take you if you want, so you can see.

Joy: That would be great.

He made a mental note to do that as soon as possible. The harvest season was upon them and would pass quickly. So, letting her see the flowers while in full bloom would need to happen within the next couple of weeks.

Aaron: We on for dinner again this week?

After sending that, he wanted to punch himself. Shouldn’t that be the sort of thing he asked either on a call or in person? Wasn’t texting a date request considered cowardly?

Joy: Same time, same place sounds good to me.

Well, Joy didn’t think of it that way. Thank goodness.

His mind wandered to last Saturday and that whooper of a kiss. Would they do that again? Or was it a one-time only deal? Surely it wouldn’t be a one and done. That kiss had taken up a significant portion of his brain power since he kept reliving it over and over.

So, for the remainder of the month of August, they kept having dinner at eight at The Steer House. And at the end of each date, they’d kiss in the parking lot before parting ways. Each time would be just as amazing if not better than the last, teaching himthat it hadn’t been a dream or fantasy. It hadn’t been a fluke or figment of his imagination. They were connecting in a real way.

Yet the text he received prior to that next Saturday stunned him. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it did.

Joy: Mind if I bring my daughter along?

He’d stared at his phone not answering, unsure of how to feel about such a development. On the one hand, it meant that Joy trusted him to meet one of the most important people in her life. But on the other, it meant meeting the living embodiment of the choice Joy made that wasn’t him. He did like kids, though. At least he liked Kenner, Josh and Maddie’s four-year-old son.

He’d probably be fine with an eight-year-old girl. Right?

Joy: Wow. Five minutes with no response. I’m taking that as a no.

Aaron seized his phone so fast he accidentally threw it like a projectile to the other side of his truck cab. Cursing under his breath, he pried it from the opposite side of his passenger seat and sent her a text.

Aaron: Sorry, dropped my phone. Sure, bring your daughter. Sounds fun.

Hopefully, she bought that.

Aaron: Did you want to do the same thing or switch it up a bit?

What did girls that age like to do, anyway? And what was her name? Had Joy ever said? Probably. He scrolled throughhis past text messages trying to come up with the name and fortunately found it.

Kara. Got it.

Joy: You could come to our place, though don’t expect anything fancy. It’s a garage apartment.

Aaron: Joy, I’ve spent years of my life shoveling what comes out the backend of animals. You could live in a drainage ditch that reeked like a stale pond, and I’d think it was fabulous.

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