Page 8 of Home to the Hollow

“Excuse me. I hate to interrupt, but I’ve been told that you’re the new equestrian in town.”

I turn to look at the person who tapped on my shoulder and I drop my pencil, watching it clatter to the ground like a fool. I can’t seem to move, and my mouth is hanging open far enough to catch flies, as Niecy would say. “I… uh…”

The stranger grins, his smile like sunshine on a rainy day. His brilliant white teeth, full lips and sapphire eyes have me completely stymied. Bending down, he picks up the pencil and reaches up to hand it to me. The pose looks like a proposal and my face flames red as I take it. Once he stands again, he tilts his head, eyes dancing with merriment. “I’m Wolfgang Fletcher. My friends call me Wolfie.”

My mouth opens and closes again as I take in the formfitting jeans, tight white tee, and leather jacket. He’s clearly a decade younger than me, and I feel like a creeper being so instantly attracted to him. “I’m… I’m uh, Jolene. Jolene Whitley.”

His chuckle is adorable, and he winks. “I know. I was younger than you, for sure, but I grew up here. I’m the town vet.”

I blink. “Holy hell. Aren’t you young to be graduated from vet school?”

“I graduated early from undergrad. I’m… well, I’m pretty smart,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hazel walks up with a to-go bag and a huge thermos, harrumphing under her breath. “He’s a damned genius is what he is. Don’t let him pull that humble good old boy routine on you. Wolfgang Lucien Fletcher, you be honest with Jolene.”

“Aw, Haze, I wasn’t lying. You know I don’t like to say that to people. Everyone looks at me like I’m some kind of a freak as it is.” The hot guy whines to my food carrying savior like they’re old friends, and the contrast between his behavior and Aldous’ couldn’t be more striking.

“It’s okay. Asking your IQ is more of a first date question, anyway.”

They both go quiet, and I smack myself in the face, cringing as I hit my nose. I’m fucking amazing with diplomats and despots, but I amuselesswith dating. I quit trying a long time ago. I simply make friends to enjoy their company and have escorts to events, but nothing more comes of it. I’ve resigned myself to becoming a cat lady soon.

“That sounds like an invitation, Jolene Whitley. Whether you meant to say that out loud, I’m going to take it. Perhaps we could have lunch at the ranch on Friday, and I’ll introduce you to the horses?”

“She’d love to,” Hazel says, giving me a look that says I don’t have an option.

I’m completely speechless again as the two of them look at me expectantly. “I, um, yes. Yes, that would be nice. I would like to meet the horses.”

Hot, young ‘Wolfie’ guy beams and holds his hand out. “Hand me your phone, and I’ll put my info in.”

I nod, obeying like a good little automaton. My eyes narrow as I look at Hazel, but she just grins like a Cheshire Cat. Meddling people...that’sone thing I didn’t miss about small-town life.

“Okay, I’m good. You better head out before your food gets cold. I’m sure you have lots to do before lunch,” Wolfie says.

Nodding again, I try to smile and not look like a full-on moron. “Yes. I do. Um, thank you, Hazel. I’ll, um, see you… later.”

I snatch the bag and the thermos and practically run out of the diner back to the Impala.

What in the hell just happened?

Proud Mary

When I get home, I’m relieved to find that no one is waiting on my doorstep like a kid at a zoo exhibit. Given Aldous’ immediately latching on and the hottie vet, I’m peopled out for a while. I don’t mean that in an ‘I’m an introvert; I need to re-charge’ kind of way; I just have shit to do, and if I don’t get it done, I’m going to have trouble staying on schedule.

I hate feeling rushed.

Dumping my shit on the kitchen island, I pull out my sketchbook to finish the line art for my drawing while I eat. I’m pleasantly surprised by quality of the waffles and the milkshake—I wonder if Hazel would be open to trying more adventurous flavors? I sketch as I muse on flavor combos to suggest, and I get so absorbed that I almost miss the front door opening.

Almost.

“Who’s there?” I call, rising to my feet. Remembering the eyes from the night before, I tiptoe on bare feet to my bag, pulling the spiked brass knuckles out of the front pocket in a practiced motion. No one answers, so I creep towards the living room, staying behind corners and in blind spots until I’m sure there’s no one waiting for me on the other side. When I get to the living room, I look from left to right nervously, and athumpmakes me jump three feet in the air.

“Holy Shit!” Looking around in full panic mode, I curl my hands in brass knuckled fists and get ready to defend myself.

Another thump is followed by a vase crashing to the ground and a large animal leaping towards me like a predator in a Discovery Channel show.

What the fuck?!

“Oooooooof!” I grunt, falling backwards onto the hardwood in a heap. A low rumble vibrates over me as the animal stands on my chest, making it impossible to catch my breath. An answering yowl echoes from upstairs, and before I know it, another monster joins the one pinning me. It looks down at me curiously, its furry face upside down over mine.

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