by Liz Isaacson
“And you’re Dean.” She cut a quick look at Dylan. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Not too terribly much, but enough to know he was one of Dylan’s closest friends on the ranch, besides his brothers and the bosses.
“You can’t trust anything this guy says.” Dean laughed, shifting the gift he was carrying under his arm. It was bigger than a gift for a baby should be, and Hazel’s nerves made a full return. She fisted her fingers into a ball and tried to keep her smile pinned in place.
Dylan dug in his pocket and handed a twenty dollar bill to Dean. “you put my name on the card, right?”
“Of course I did.” The front door of the cabin next door opened, and nursery rhymes spilled into the air. Dean turned that way. “I said I’d help with the setup. I’ll see y’all later.” He walked away, and Hazel didn’t want to get out the gift she’d brought for a baby she didn’t know.
But she had brothers who had kids, and she’d sent gifts to her nieces and nephews for Christmas and their birthdays. She reached back into the cab and lifted the pink gift bag she’d tucked the cutest pair of baby shoes into.
“I hope this is okay.”
Dylan barely glanced at it. “I’m sure it’s fine.” He laced his fingers through hers. “We have a few minutes. Maybe you’d like to see the ranch?”
“Sure.” She set the bag back in the truck and slammed the driver’s door. “Let’s go.”
He narrated who lived where, but she couldn’t keep track of all the names. There were two large, fenced pastures, with a stable at the end of them, along with two more barns. Silos and a storage building went by before the homestead came into view on the other side of the long dirt lane.
He glanced behind him, and Hazel followed his gaze. The Cabin Community couldn’t be seen at all, and the music that had filled the air before couldn’t be heard at all. His hand tightened on hers and he ducked around the back of the storage building, his bright blue eyes sparking with heat as he leaned his back against the wood.
“I’m glad you came.” He ducked his head in an adorable way, his cowboy hat nearly touching her forehead.
“Are you nervous about the party?” she asked, detecting a hint of something anxious in his stance.
“Not about the party, no.”
Hazel inched a little closer, trying to see his eyes under his hat. “Then what?”
Instead of answering with words, he put his hand on her back and brought her closer. Dylan swept his hat off his head and leaned down, pausing before claiming her mouth. Hazel trembled, partly from his nearness and partly because she wondered if he really wanted her at the party.
“Should I just go?” she asked, her eyes half closed, the anticipation of his kiss almost too much to bear. “I don’t really belong here.”
“I probably should’ve started introducing you to the boys one at a time,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize. I—I’m not great at this dating thing.”
“So you don’t want me here.” She wasn’t asking, and her heart shrank two sizes.
Dylan backed up a few inches, clearly reeling from what she’d said. “Of course I do. I just didn’t realize how nervous it would make you, and I feel bad about that.” He brought his other hand to her back and held her against his body. “Of course I want you here. I just don’t want you to be nervous.”
The kindness on his face, his genuine concern for her feelings, made Hazel’s muscles soft and her heart melt. “I’ll be okay,” she said. “Maybe you should kiss me first.”
He blinked at her, his smile slow as his concern leaked from his expression. “If you insist.” He matched his mouth to hers, and it was a perfect fit. Hazel sighed into him, relying on him to hold her upright.
The kiss was unrushed and filled Hazel with the life she’d been missing for so long. Dylan broke their connection and sucked in a long breath. “We should go on over now.”
“Mm.” Hazel couldn’t quite articulate words at that point, the salty taste of his lips still on hers.
He chuckled and gently backed her away from him. “C’mon, sweetheart. Remember, there’s chocolate cake.”
They walked back over to the cabins, where noise came with the music pouring from the cabin. Hazel told herself to breathe, to keep taking steps. She made it to the doorway and then through, and no one even looked at her. Maybe she could fade into the background and watch Dylan interact with his ranch family without incident.
“Oh, Dylan’s here.” A dark-haired woman Dylan had talked about out at the cabin made a beeline toward him, and it seemed like every eye in the place turned their way. “You made it.”
“Sure did.” Dylan dropped Hazel’s hand so he could give May a quick hug. “Where’s Greta?”
“In the highchair. We’re just waiting for the tortillas to finish up and then lunch will be ready.” She glanced at Hazel, her eyes kind but appraising. She took in everything on Hazel, from the way she’d clipped her hair back on the sides to the tips of her cowgirl boots. Hazel did her best not to squirm, but she couldn’t control the tremors in her fingers that started, so she tucked her hands in her pockets and rocked back onto her heels, waiting for an introduction.
“You remember Hazel,” Dylan said, stepping beside May and grinning at Hazel, which calmed her slightly.
“Of course I do.” May shook her hand and turned toward the party. “Welcome to the party.” She wiped her hand across her forehead. “I had no idea birthday parties were so much work.”
“When’s your next baby due?” Hazel asked.
“August.” May sighed. A timer went off, somehow covering the noise the rest of the cowboys were making, and she said, “Excuse me.” She joined her husband in the kitchen and they turned as a unit.
Kurt whistled, and everyone fell silent. May turned off the music, and Dylan edged around the party toward Greta, Hazel’s hand in his.
“Welcome to the party,” May said. “We’re so glad you’re here to celebrate Greta’s birthday with us.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and Hazel saw tears gather in her eyes. The love that filled the air rendered everyone silent, and Hazel stilled. She longed for this kind of acceptance, this kind of place to belong.
She marveled at the community of this ranch, and she couldn’t believe Dylan had all this and didn’t even know it. She watched him as he lifted Greta out of her highchair and grinned at her like she was his best friend.
The baby giggled, and Kurt said, “We’ve got chicken fajitas down here. Steak on that end. Let’s say grace and then we’ll eat.” He glanced around, and said, “Shane, will you?”
“Sure.”
All the cowboys removed their hats and bowed their heads, and Hazel marveled again. Sure, she’d seen cowboys at church before. She just didn’t realize every one of them out here were the praying type. Shane said a prayer, and a loud chorus of “Amen,” rang through the cabin before complete chaos started.
The two couches had been pushed against the walls, and several long tables put in their place. Bright rainbow-colored sprinkles adorned the white paper on top of the tables, and the scent of men’s cologne mixed with roasted meat and a hint of chocolate.
Hazel hung back, watching as the people she knew went through the line. Felicity and Dwayne, the owners of the ranch. She knew Shane, and he seemed stuck at the hip with a pretty blonde woman—obviously the girlfriend Dylan had spoken of with the tiny house.
Another woman she didn’t know had arrived in the few minutes they’d spoken to May. She carried a younger infant on her hip, and her husband was Levi Rhodes. Even though Hazel wasn’t always in the thick of town gossip in Grape Seed Falls, she realized with a start that Heather Carver had married Levi Rhodes, and duh. This was her brother’s ranch.
She uncovered a large bowl of something like she belonged in this cabin and had been there many times. Of course she had. It was only Hazel who was the imposter here.
She swallowed, trying to make the feelings go away, but they refused to budge. They stuck in her throat and
made talking difficult when another cowboy came over and said, “You must be Hazel.”
Hazel nodded and Dylan said, “Chadwell. He lives with Dean.”
“Oh, of course.” Hazel shook his hand and then repeated a similar version of the conversation with every cowboy that lived on the ranch. She remembered Gabe, Chad, and Dean, all the other names blurring as they went by with heaps of steaming meat and vegetables on their plates.
“Should we eat?” Dylan asked, glancing at her.
“Sure.”
He took Greta with him, talking about the food like the one-year-old could understand him. Somehow he managed to make two plates of fajitas and hold the baby, all of it effortless for him. Hazel followed behind him, feeling very out of her league.
He’d had some hardships in his life, sure. But what he had now? He had the whole world in his hand and he didn’t even know it. Hazel had two dogs and a few friends and weekly phone calls with her mother.
And she craved this sort of community. If she and Dylan took things all the way, could she live out here?
She pushed the thought away. They’d just started dating, and such a life was on a far distant horizon she shouldn’t even be thinking about.
“Hey, Hazel.” A blond cowboy who looked a lot like Dylan spoke to her like they were old friends. “I’m Austin.”
“Oh, right. Dylan’s brother.”
He grinned at her. “He’s somethin’ with that baby, isn’t he?”
She watched Dylan take Greta over to the table, but he didn’t buckle her back into the highchair. He balanced her on his lap and let her pick up a thin slice of beef with her chubby fingers.
“Why does he like babies so much?” she asked.
“Dunno.” Austin scooped a big spoonful of guacamole onto his plate. “He’s always been like that. Our mother said when I came along, Dylan wouldn’t let me out of his sight. He was only three.” He chuckled and shook his head. “He’s always watched out for me, and Shane’s always been there for both of us.”
Hazel nodded, the bond between the brothers obvious and thick.
“Of the three of us, Dylan’s the worrier,” he said. “Shane took care of everything, and I guess me being the youngest just let the two of them do their thing.” He smiled and went around her, his plate full.
What does he worry about? Hazel wanted to know, and she hurried to finish her plate so she could take the empty spot next to Dylan at the table. Dean came and sat on her other side, and the conversation was easy, natural.
Men laughed, and the food got eaten, and then May announced, “Time for presents!”
“I left mine in the truck,” Hazel said, and Dylan handed her Greta.
“I’ll go get it.” He was gone before she could protest. She’d held plenty of babies in her life—she was the older sister to four boys, after all—but not for a while. Thankfully, it came naturally, and she bounced the little girl on her knee.
May had everyone situate their chairs in a circle, and she took Greta from Hazel with a “Thank you, darlin’,” and put her on the floor just as Dylan returned with her pink bag. “All right, baby,” she cooed. “Time for presents.”
May and Kurt helped Greta rip the paper off all the gifts while everyone watched and laughed. Dylan held Hazel’s hand for everyone to see, but no one was watching. Hazel felt herself relaxing as she somehow carved a space for herself inside this life, on this ranch, with Dylan.
Everyone accepted her, and she hadn’t felt accepted or good enough since Peter had left. By the time the chocolate cake was served, Hazel wondered if this life, this ranch, and this man were too good to be true.
Chapter Thirteen
Dylan rode the high of May’s chocolate cake and kissing Hazel for several days. He had to, because life on the ranch resumed, and Hazel had a full-time job to contend with. They’d exchanged numbers, and Dylan had lost some serious sleep as he exercised his thumbs and tried to keep his laughter from waking Austin, who shared the loft with him.
He’d gone out on the ATV on Sunday so he wouldn’t have to discuss Hazel and his relationship with everyone he ran into that day. Didn’t see anyone? Didn’t have to explain anything.
So we’re still on for tomorrow night? he texted her on Thursday night while the cabin sat in darkness. She’d seemed to fit right in at the party, though it had taken her several minutes to warm up to everyone.
If you’re still okay to double, her response came.
Dylan’s heart leapt over a beat, then reminded himself that she’d come to a birthday party with about twenty strangers. He could handle two of them—her friends, Jason and McKayla—and a restaurant.
Hey, any time I can eat food I don’t have to make myself, I’m in.
Haha. I’ve seen you cook. You never eat something you’ve made.
Dylan didn’t want to tell her that he rarely ate out either. So Shane made sandwiches and eggs and a few other things. All the brothers knew how to put a frozen pizza in the oven, and if Dylan could eat cold cereal for every meal, he’d die happy.
Dress code? he asked as Austin rolled over and groaned. Dylan turned too, to block the blue light from his phone.
What you normally wear.
Cowboy boots and hats?
You really must not make it to town very much. Every man here wears a cowboy hat and boots.
Just checking. He wanted to ask her where they were going, but he’d asked every day this week, and she’s never answered him. Sometimes their texts were rapid-fire, and at first, he’d thought she’d just missed the question. But as time went on, and he kept asking and she never responded, Dylan realized she didn’t want to tell him.
So he’d moved on to questions to make sure he didn’t show up in the wrong clothes. The last thing he needed was everyone staring at him, the cowboy who didn’t get off the ranch much. He sometimes felt that way at church, but he went there because he could go in a group and leave in a group and didn’t have to talk to anyone he didn’t know.
See you tomorrow! Hazel’s message had an air of finality about it, and Dylan let his phone fall to his chest. He hoped she’d still be interested in him when he showed up at her house tomorrow night. Why he thought she wouldn’t be, he wasn’t sure. But he drifted to sleep with a sliver of doubt in his mind that made his night restless.
He navigated himself to Hazel’s house, a live nest of bees in his chest. His breath seemed to buzz in and out of his lungs as he parked and took in the small white house with her truck parked in the carport.
With his window down, he heard a couple of dogs start barking, and he got out since she’d know he was here anyway. May had arrived a couple of days ago, and it felt like full-blown summer already. Maybe that was just his nerves making him sweat. No matter what, he slicked his palms down his thighs as he climbed the few steps to the front door and knocked.
The dogs went wild now, and Dylan heard Hazel shushing them before opening the door. She wore a blue and white polka dot blouse that looked like silk, paired with a dark black pair of slacks that went all the way to the ground. Her bare toes peeked through and by the time Dylan returned his gaze to her face, Hazel had cocked her hip into the door and was grinning.
“You wanna come in for a minute?” she asked, both dogs standing guard behind her.
“Yeah, sure.” He stepped up to walk into the house, expecting Hazel to fall back. But she didn’t. She put one hand on his chest and stretched up onto her toes.
“I haven’t seen you in so long.” Her voice was flirtatious and light, but her grip said something different. “You smell fantastic.”
“I smell fantastic?” Dylan put his arms around her and smiled. “So do you. What is that?”
“I have this iced peach lotion.”
“Of course you do.” He knew it would be something with a strange name, and he breathed her in. “And you look phenomenal.” His voice dropped to a whisper of its own accord. “What shoes are you wearing?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Like where we’re goin’.”
“And how long you’re going to stand there, making me wait.”
Dylan wanted to kiss her immediately, but he forced himself to wait. The anticipation electrified between them, and by the time his mouth finally brushed hers it felt like an explosion. He drew in a breath and went back for a second touch, this time kissing her fully.
He really liked how she held onto the collar of his shirt and kept him in place. Liked the way she tasted like mint and strawberries. Liked that she definitely still seemed interested in him.
A horn honked, and Dylan sprang away from her as if her father had just pulled up and caught them kissing on the doorstep. He twisted to look behind him and found another couple getting out of a bright blue SUV parked on the curb.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Jason and McKayla.” The man waiting on the sidewalk for the woman had sandy brown hair without a cowboy hat covering it. The woman had auburn hair like Felicity’s, and she wore a cute little sundress that said city chic more than country flair.
They both had green eyes on opposite ends of the spectrum, with hers bordering on brown and Jason’s almost like emeralds. They clasped hands and climbed the steps, wearing wide smiles like Hazel hadn’t introduced them to a boyfriend in a while.
Dylan remembered that she hadn’t, and the quick shake he felt in her hand as it touched his told him of her nerves.
“Hey, guys,” she said. “This is Dylan Royal. Dylan, my friends, McKayla Long and Jason Bell.”
“Hullo.” Dylan extended his hand and shook Jason’s and McKayla’s, noting that Hazel hadn’t given him a label. Not friend. But not boyfriend either. “I don’t think Hazel is quite ready yet.” He glanced at her feet, half a smile pulling at his mouth.
“Three minutes,” she said, turning and moving further into the house. “Oh, and Dylan, you can meet the pups. The brown one’s Monty. The black one’s Milo.” She turned and headed down a hallway, leaving Dylan with her friends and her dogs.