Page 111 of Someone to Have
“I didn’t shriek,” Molly’swhole body locks up like she’s bracing for a hit. “And you shouldn’t sneak up on people and listen to private conversations.”
“Not exactly sneaking,” he clarifies with a smile that fades as his gaze lifts and settles on her. “Molly.”
“Hello, Chase. It’s been a while.”
“Your wedding day,” he says quietly.
I recognize Chase Calhoun, of course. He’s a living legend in Skylark, and built like a cowboy fantasy with rugged features, a cleft in his chin, and steely gray eyes that miss nothing.
In another life, he could have graced the pages of a magazine spread. Instead, he survived a bull’s wrath and lived to tell the tale. He was a national champion before a brutal accident here in town last October when he got thrown and trampled during one of Skylark’s local rodeos. His leg was shattered in three places and he spent several days in a coma from a head injury. I didn’t realize he was still in Skylark. I also vaguely remember that he and Molly’s late husband were practically inseparable as kids.
“I’m surprised to see you at a Valentine’s Day dance. Seems a little tame for your taste.” Molly’s tone is as cold as snow melt coursing through a high-mountain stream. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this way, like she’s caught in an invisible snare.
“My sister needed help bringing my mother. I heard you’re living with Teddy’s mom on the farm.”
“Temporarily.” She tries to sound casual, but her voice has an edge. “Have you moved back to town?”
“Temporarily.” He shrugs. “Just until my body heals or I figure out what a broken bull rider is supposed to do when he can’t do the only thing he’s good at.”
They stare at each other so long the air crackles. I clear my throat when I can’t take the tense silence another second.
His gaze shifts to me, and he offers a smallsmile and another tip of his cowboy hat. It’s charming but also holds an edge, as sharp as Molly’s tone.
“You’re the Maxwell baby, right? Toby’s sister.”
“That’s me.” There’s something about Molly’s reaction to this man that makes me shift closer like she needs protection. “For the record,” I say primly. “We aren’t saps or country music fans. Would you like a glass of punch?”
“No, thank you.” His full lips twitch but thin as his steely gray eyes focus on Molly again before he turns and limps away.
“I didn’t shriek,” she whispers. “Just surprised. Chase Calhoun is a lot, you know?”
“I know.” I take her hand. “If there’s any breed of man that has more testosterone than hockey players, it’s bull riders.”
Her shoulders relax slightly, and she wraps an arm around my waist. “Not all love is for saps or country songs, Taylor.”
“Are you sure?” I ask as I rest my head on her slim shoulder.
“One hundred percent. I still believe.” She glances around to make sure no one else can overhear our conversation. “There’s a good chance my hoo-ha will have cobwebs in it by the time I get back on the market.”
I choke out a laugh and hug her tighter.
“But I’m not giving up,” she continues. “Neither are you.”
I wish I had her faith, but I can’t imagine opening myself to anyone else after Eric. Not when I know what it’s like to fall for him.
“I might have to live vicariously through you when it comes time for your cobweb clearing.”
“There’s a big world out there, Tay. I haven’t seen much of it, but I will someday. The twins will, too.” She sniffs. “I’m not going to raise them to live small and scared.”
“Hey.” I pluck one of the dried flowers from a nearby vase and hand it to her. “Your life is not small. You bring beauty into the world, Molly McAllister. That counts as something big.”
“Is this some kind of Galentine’s Day moment?”
I release Molly and turn to grin at my father. “Dad, how do you know about Galentine’s Day?”
“Your nieces told me all about it when they convinced me to take them shopping for bracelet kits and something called sheet masks for their girl posse.” He makes a face. “That’s what they call it anyway.”
“Marty Maxwell.” Molly puts a hand on her hip and winks at my father. “You’re an old softy.”
