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Authors: Cathy McDavid
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attraction from out of nowhere wasn’t entirely one-sided.
Naw. She didn’t look like a person who’d just been emotionally knocked to her knees. Her movements were too steady, her demeanor too cool.
Clay, on the other hand, was only now recovering.
“Do you mind if I push Jamie?” Distractions. He needed distractions.
She hesitated.
“I admit, I don’t have much experience but I think I can get him from here to the house without crashing.”
“All right.” She remained glued to his side, hovering with near obsessiveness as they left the casita.
“Any closer, and I’m going to run over you.”
“Sorry.”
Why had he opened his big mouth? Having her two feet away was infinitely less enjoyable than two inches.
The stroller wheels bumped over the wood slats as they walked to the house. Jamie laughed with delight, and Clay could imagine him saying, Again, Daddy, again.
They entered the house through a pair of French doors opening to a spacious great room. Clay found himself looking at the decidedly masculine decor through Sierra’s eyes. Did she find the leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling bookcases and pool table too much?
“You were right.” She went straight to the kitchen with its antique buffet, plate racks and glass door cabinets. “It is fabulous.” She turned in a half circle. “Look at that stove.”
It was Clay’s pride and joy. Six burners, a built-in grill, a conventional oven below and a convection oven above, the gas range had been designed to resemble one from the early 1900s.
She switched on a knob, and blue flames erupted from the front burner.
“You like to cook.”
“When I get the chance. Same as you.” The faint smile Clay had seen earlier in the casita reappeared and lasted two full seconds before fading.
Progress.
Jamie squawked and kicked his legs hard enough to shake the stroller.
“What’s wrong?” Clay asked. If Jamie required changing, he’d do that, too, though he wasn’t looking forward to it.
“I think he’s tired of sitting.”
That wasn’t what had started Jamie fussing. He’d spied Oreo, who lumbered tiredly into the kitchen, his feathery tail wagging.
“Is that Oreo?” Sierra didn’t wait for an answer. She reached down and scrunched the dog’s ears in her hands. “He was old two years ago.”
“Older now. Almost seventeen. He doesn’t do much except move from one sleeping spot to the next.”
And lick faces, present company included. Sierra laughed as she twisted her head out of Oreo’s reach.
Jamie’s kicking increased. “Da, da, da.”
Great. His son was now calling his dog Daddy.
“His adoptive… The Stevensons had a dog,” Sierra explained. “He’s used to them.”
“Go on, let them play. Oreo likes kids.”
“Kids or babies? There’s a difference.”
“He’s the gentlest dog in the world.”
Oreo lived up to Clay’s boasts. The moment Sierra set Jamie on the floor, he tumbled over to the old spaniel. Throwing his arms around Oreo’s neck, he buried his face in the still-lustrous black-and-white coat and squealed excitedly.
Oreo’s only reaction was to look up at Clay with a see-what-I-put-up-with-for-you expression on his face. Even when Jamie pulled on Oreo’s fur, the dog’s tail continued to wag.
“He is good with kids.” Sierra smiled— really smiled.
The light radiating from it arrowed straight into Clay’s chest. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to be the same.
“I worry Jamie will get hurt.” She nibbled her lip nervously. “He tried playing with Cassie’s puppy Blue yesterday. It didn’t go well. Jamie got too rambunctious.”
“Did Blue snap at him?”
“No, no. Just yelped and scampered away. Which scared Jamie and he started crying.”
“That won’t happen with any dog of mine. Or horse.”
“Just because Oreo’s trustworthy doesn’t mean you can put Jamie on a pony.” She leveled a finger at Clay, her mouth set in a determined line.
Naw. She didn’t look like a person who’d just been emotionally knocked to her knees. Her movements were too steady, her demeanor too cool.
Clay, on the other hand, was only now recovering.
“Do you mind if I push Jamie?” Distractions. He needed distractions.
She hesitated.
“I admit, I don’t have much experience but I think I can get him from here to the house without crashing.”
“All right.” She remained glued to his side, hovering with near obsessiveness as they left the casita.
“Any closer, and I’m going to run over you.”
“Sorry.”
Why had he opened his big mouth? Having her two feet away was infinitely less enjoyable than two inches.
The stroller wheels bumped over the wood slats as they walked to the house. Jamie laughed with delight, and Clay could imagine him saying, Again, Daddy, again.
They entered the house through a pair of French doors opening to a spacious great room. Clay found himself looking at the decidedly masculine decor through Sierra’s eyes. Did she find the leather furniture, floor-to-ceiling bookcases and pool table too much?
“You were right.” She went straight to the kitchen with its antique buffet, plate racks and glass door cabinets. “It is fabulous.” She turned in a half circle. “Look at that stove.”
It was Clay’s pride and joy. Six burners, a built-in grill, a conventional oven below and a convection oven above, the gas range had been designed to resemble one from the early 1900s.
She switched on a knob, and blue flames erupted from the front burner.
“You like to cook.”
“When I get the chance. Same as you.” The faint smile Clay had seen earlier in the casita reappeared and lasted two full seconds before fading.
Progress.
Jamie squawked and kicked his legs hard enough to shake the stroller.
“What’s wrong?” Clay asked. If Jamie required changing, he’d do that, too, though he wasn’t looking forward to it.
“I think he’s tired of sitting.”
That wasn’t what had started Jamie fussing. He’d spied Oreo, who lumbered tiredly into the kitchen, his feathery tail wagging.
“Is that Oreo?” Sierra didn’t wait for an answer. She reached down and scrunched the dog’s ears in her hands. “He was old two years ago.”
“Older now. Almost seventeen. He doesn’t do much except move from one sleeping spot to the next.”
And lick faces, present company included. Sierra laughed as she twisted her head out of Oreo’s reach.
Jamie’s kicking increased. “Da, da, da.”
Great. His son was now calling his dog Daddy.
“His adoptive… The Stevensons had a dog,” Sierra explained. “He’s used to them.”
“Go on, let them play. Oreo likes kids.”
“Kids or babies? There’s a difference.”
“He’s the gentlest dog in the world.”
Oreo lived up to Clay’s boasts. The moment Sierra set Jamie on the floor, he tumbled over to the old spaniel. Throwing his arms around Oreo’s neck, he buried his face in the still-lustrous black-and-white coat and squealed excitedly.
Oreo’s only reaction was to look up at Clay with a see-what-I-put-up-with-for-you expression on his face. Even when Jamie pulled on Oreo’s fur, the dog’s tail continued to wag.
“He is good with kids.” Sierra smiled— really smiled.
The light radiating from it arrowed straight into Clay’s chest. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to be the same.
“I worry Jamie will get hurt.” She nibbled her lip nervously. “He tried playing with Cassie’s puppy Blue yesterday. It didn’t go well. Jamie got too rambunctious.”
“Did Blue snap at him?”
“No, no. Just yelped and scampered away. Which scared Jamie and he started crying.”
“That won’t happen with any dog of mine. Or horse.”
“Just because Oreo’s trustworthy doesn’t mean you can put Jamie on a pony.” She leveled a finger at Clay, her mouth set in a determined line.
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