When We Met: A Small Town Single Dad Romance

by Shey Stahl

  “I fine.” Sev frowns and then sneezes right in my face. It’s not the first time I’ve been sneezed on, but her reaction is a first for me. “Oh, bless your heart,” she says, wiping the spit off my face.

  I don’t know whether to laugh or squeeze the shit out of her.

  “That’s gross,” Camdyn says, staring at her sister as if she’s disgusting.

  “I not gross,” Sev grumbles, shoving her sister right into the snow piled up next to the covered wraparound porch. A white puff of frost and snow burst from the ground as her body hits the ground.

  “You dummy,” Camdyn growls, getting her footing and acting as if she’s going to murder her sister for shoving her.

  Oh dear. I pick her up and separate the two of them from going WWF on each other. “Show me these goats.”

  Thankfully the mention of goats distracts them.

  Trudging through the thick powdery snow, the girls tell me about the goats and how they’ve named them. “Mine is Cruella,” Sev says, holding my right hand.

  Camdyn tugs on my left hand, swinging it with each step, her heart-warming brown eyes on the fluffy white banks around us with determination. “And mine is Elsa. She’s all white, and I think she freezes the other ones.”

  “I can’t wait to meet them.” Watching my feet, the snow beneath us glitters under the sun shining down. The snow is nothing like I imagined it to be. It’s powdery frozen balls, like walking through a field of Dippin’ Dots. The trees and fence posts pathing our way across the property are clothed in white like something out of a wintry fairy tale. I know one thing. I’m not dressed for this kind of weather. I have the proper gear I thought was necessary. Hat, jacket, scarf, boots… but I forgot gloves, and I’m holding the kids’ hands. To have them wanting to hold my hand is worth the possibility of frostbite, and dethawing my fingers seems worth it. I also realize my Patagonia puff jacket is meant for looks. Not warmth. The guy at REI lied to me because my nipples are about to chip off. Or maybe my nipple rings are frozen, and it’s making it worse. Kinda like sticking your tongue to a frozen pole.

  In the distance, I can see the large blue barn with a massive Grady’s Ranch metal sign on the outside. Bathed in white, it bursts to life—grand, enticing, and exactly what I imagined a barn to look like. “That’s a big barn.”

  Camdyn giggles. “That’s the bunkhouse.”

  “Yeah.” Sev sneezes again. “Cowboys seeps there.”

  “Cowboys, huh?”

  White dust clings to our feet as the rest of the bunkhouse comes into view. Tractors line the building, horses in pastures, everything you’d expect to see on a working ranch. It’s all new to me. The most animals I’ve seen have been at the San Diego Zoo.

  The girls show me the way. All the while, I’m searching for Barron. “Where’s your dad usually at?”

  Camdyn points in the other direction toward what looks to be a fast open space with rolling hills. “That way.”

  I eye the space she’s pointing out, but there’s nothing but white on white and faint tire tracks. “What does he do out there?”

  “Brings in the cows,” Camdyn mumbles, letting go of my hand, rushing toward a small animal running and bucking with excitement. “Elsa!”

  Another herd of what looks to be five baby goats rush Sev. One headbutts her in the stomach, and she cackles, falling to the ground dramatically. I panic, not sure if I’m supposed to stop this madness or watch. Brown, black, white, peach, all different colors come bouncing toward the girls and me.

  “They look like puppies,” I gush, falling to my knees in the snow to gather a brown and white one with a pink collar in my arms. “Oh my gosh. How can you resist them?”

  Camdyn grins, as if it’s the best day of her life. “That’s Bubble Nubble. She likes to eat hair.”

  Forgetting about all my frozen body parts, I grab the velvet-soft ears as she baas at me and tries to eat my hair. “Aren’t you the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

  We spend a good five minutes with the goats, and I’m convinced I need to keep Bubble Nubble and install a car seat in my car for her.

  “Do you want to see the cows?” Camdyn asks, pointing behind her, a goat licking her face and trying to ride piggyback on her.

  Being attacked by cuteness, I turn to look where she’s pointing. And now I see the barn. It’s like four times the size of the bunkhouse. “I’d love to see cows. Are there baby ones?”

  “Yeah.” Her face lights up, pink cheeks and the widest smile I’ve ever seen. “We feed them bottles.”

  The girls lead me into the barn, the goats following. “Always close the gate,” Camdyn warns, using all her force to slide the door closed once we’re inside. “Daddy says if it’s closed, keep it closed it. If it’s open, close it.”

  “Got it.” I smile, thinking of the way these girls are growing up with country memories and farm life while I grew up shopping in Beverly Hills and had my belly button pierced before I was eleven. The smell hits me, a puff of musty odor, animal fur, shit, and sharp old smells of metal and machinery, kind of like the shop.

  They show me the baby calves, which I fall in love with too. Camdyn fills a bottle up with what looks to be formula and I’m impressed at five-years-old she can do all this herself. She hands me a bottle with a nipple on the end. “Here. You try.” And then she motions toward a brown fluffy calf at my feet. “Give that one to Bear.”

  Bear… he’s eager and starts to run after me. So I run too. “Why is he chasing me?” I yell out to the girls, who can’t stop laughing.

  “Because yous holdin’ his food,” Camdyn says, giggling into her hands.

  I’m tackled by the calf and hand over his food.

  Camdyn grins at me. “Come on. I show you Lulu.”

  Covered in dirt and hay straws, I follow her, unsure if I want to meet a horse at this point.

  Horse stalls line the sides of the building and hay is stacked high into the loft above the rafters I imagine bats hang out in.

  “Lulu is in here. Come see.” Camdyn tugs on my hand as Sev runs through the barn, her boots scraping against the wooden floor.

  There’s groaning from animals, their heads hung over the doors, sunlight glimmering through the windows. Camdyn hurries toward one stall in particular and shows me a beautiful horse wrapped in what looks to be a blanket. She’s a smoky gray-brown color with a black mane and eager to see Camdyn.

  The second she spots her, Lulu starts lifting her head up and down and practically trying to leap over the stall door.

  “Lulu!” Camdyn shouts, rushing forward.

  Beside me, Sev tugs on my arm. “Do yous like spiders?”

  My eyes widen. “No. I hate them. Why?”

  “There’s one on yous coat.”

  I freak the fuck out and practically launch myself across the barn. Three things happen. I knock Sev over, which I feel shitty about. I land next to a calf named Poppy, who decides I look tasty and starts licking me. Poppy then decides I’m a good place to sit and takes a load off. Right on my lap. Let me tell you, Poppy is a lot heavier than she looks. And the third thing, I’d rather not discuss, but if you must know… during my freak out, I landed right on a big old stinky pile of Poppy shit.

  Camdyn and Sev’s giggles fill the barn. “You sat in poop!”

  I’m mortified and sick to my stomach, because I don’t know where that spider went, but I laugh too because they are. And it’s kinda funny when you think about it. City girl’s first trip inside a barn and she lands in shit.

  Fitting.

  They want a mommy for Christmas. I’m crying.

  KACY

  Back at the house, I have the evidence of our mishap with the cows under wraps and both girls clean. Nobody will know what happened. Unless they tell. They probably will. It’s too funny not to.

  “I’m really sorry ’bout your shirt. Here, you can wear this.” Camdyn pushes one of Barron’s shirts at me. “Daddy won’t mind.”

  I take the shirt from her and wan
t to bring it to my nose and inhale sharply, but I resist. “Thank you. Do you think he’d mind if I wash my clothes?” It’s not like I can walk over to the shop and let myself in to get my bags. I’m going to have to wait for Barron. But I could wash my clothes I have here, right?

  Please say right because my clothes are covered in cow shit and smell rancid.

  Camdyn leads me into what looks to be a mudroom cased in rich-stained board and batten-style wood with black slate floors. Boots, saddles, reins, jackets, everything you would imagine in a rancher’s home is in there lining the walls. It smells like leather and man. She gestures to the large machines against the wall. “Put them in there.”

  I’ve never done laundry. I don’t even know how to turn them on. I used to drop my laundry off at Lou’s every Friday, and he’d have it back to me on Saturday mornings. I swallow over the anxiety rising in my throat. “Do you know how to use it?”

  She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Her hand jets to her hip. “You don’t know?”

  “I’ve never done laundry,” I admit, fully prepared for a five-year-old to cross-examine me on my life.

  “Oh, I show you.” Scooting a stool over to the machines, she grabs the detergent. “You have to take your clothes off.”

  “Right.” Camdyn covers her eyes, as if she’s had to do this before, and I fight the urge to ask. Discretely, I slip my shirt and soaked jeans off, leaving me in my bra and underwear. Quickly, I put on Barron’s shirt that practically reaches my knees. “So I put them in the washer?”

  “Yep.” Dumping a good amount of the detergent in there, she closes the lid. Briefly, I wonder if that’s too much soap, but she probably knows more than I do. Pushing the button on the front, it lights up and chirps. “Then it washes it.”

  “Perfect.”

  Stepping down from the stool, she looks up at me. “I’m hungry.”

  “Let’s find some food then.”

  We end up finding some frozen burritos that Camdyn eats but Sev won’t touch. “You know that thing that happened with the Poppy?” I ask the girls nervously, trying to block out the memory of me taking a nosedive into cow shit.

  They both smile and nod.

  “Let’s not tell your dad about that.”

  They giggle, but you know, they don’t promise me shit. I have a feeling it’s the first thing they’re going to tell him.

  As the sun begins to drop in the sky, the horizon full of pinks, purples, and orange reflecting off the frosty white ground, I put our plates in the sink and wash them. I think about Barron. It’s not the first time he’s entered my mind today. I am wearing his shirt, but it’s the first time I get this aching feeling in my chest that a life with him could be wonderful. I stitch up a plan in my head that doesn’t exist. Kinda like the one where I thought Prince Charming was going to rescue me. Only he turned out to be fucking my mom on the side.

  But this plan, the one where I’m watching a sunset, feels like something that could happen. I envision every detail of it, so clearly, and it’s effortless. I could stay, and this could be my life, couldn’t it? These could be my kids’ giggles ringing through the house. And Barron could be my husband, out working the ranch, and soon he’ll be home to claim me as his while wearing his Carhartt jacket, his beard tickling my tender neck. I could be pregnant with his baby and have the Southern life I always dreamed about.

  But none of that will happen because that’s just a dream. One that will never happen when he realizes who I know.

  Beside me, Sev hands me a spoon, a pot, and what looks to be a baby tooth. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but it’s creepy. “Turn that thing on,” she demands, pointing to the stove again.

  I raise an eyebrow and turn to face her. “Why?” I dare to ask.

  “I’m making a mom.”

  “A what?”

  “A mom,” she deadpans, still staring at me. Then she clanks the spoon to the pot. “I need milk and blue sparkles.”

  “Why blue sparkles?”

  “Her eyes have to be blue, like mines.”

  I grin. “What color is her hair gonna be?” Don’t say blonde like your mom.

  She stares at my hair and then reaches for it. I’m not sure if she’s going to rip it out or what. “Dis color.”

  “Auburn?”

  She nods. My heart melts. “Do you want her to look like me?”

  Another nod. And a grin.

  I wrap one arm around her. “Well, let’s see what we can do.”

  At the stove, I notice Sev is still itching, and the hives that were on her cheek have moved over to her eye. “Do they still itch?”

  “No.” Only she’s itching them and clearly annoyed by having to do so.

  “Why are you making a mom?” I ask, pouring milk and the blue sprinkles Camdyn hands me.

  Camdyn stares up at me. “We want a mommy for Christmas.”

  And my heart just burst in two.

  “We asked Santa for one,” she goes on to say. “I hope he brings her to us.”

  “Why do you want a mom so bad?” I feel like an idiot for asking that.

  “We don’t have one.” Camdyn shrugs. “Do you?”

  Pain hits my chest. “I do, but she’s not a very good one.”

  “Why?” Sev asks, still itching. Now she has her shirt pulled up, itching her belly.

  She fucked my boyfriend, but I don’t say that. “Sometimes moms aren’t what you want them to be.”

  Sev looks at the pot with milk and blue sprinkles. “Our mommy’s pretty.”

  I stare at the pot. “She sure is. Now what do we do?”

  Sev breaths in deep and waves her hand, holding the spoon over the pot. “Apple camera bubba, brings us a mommy!”

  I love that she says apple camera bubba instead of abracadabra.

  “I don’t think that’s what you say.” Camdyn gets down from the chair she pushed over to the stove. “Can I have hot chocolate?”

  “Sure.”

  They show me where hot chocolate is, and while they’re enjoying some, I notice Barron approaching the house in his truck. My heart flips around in my chest, struggling to find a steady beat. Crap. I’m still wearing his shirt. I’d completely forgotten about my clothes in the washing machine.

  Within a few minutes, he comes inside the house, stomping his boots on the mat, flush-cheeked, jeans soaked and looking like Noah from The Notebook when they got caught in the rain. Boom. It’s official. I’m in love with Texas.

  He smiles at me, removes his beanie cap, and sets it on the counter. His eyes drift lower to my bare legs. Cat’s out of the bag.

  “I, well, I wanted to wash my clothes. I hope you don’t mind. I can take it off if it bothers you.” I reach for the hem, not even realizing that I’m standing in the same room as his children, who more than likely haven’t seen a naked woman before, and, hello, I’m starting to take my clothes off in front of a man and his two small children.

  Did I hit my head too hard in the accident? Do I have brain damage? Who does this shit?

  “You don’t have to give it back to me right now,” Barron says, eyes wide in shock and gesturing with a tip of his head to his kids on the couch mindlessly drinking their hot chocolate.

  “Right.” I drop my hands. “Well—” And then I do quite possibly the most embarrassing thing I’ve done yet in my life. I choke on my own spit. I’m not talking about clearing my throat or coughing politely. I’m talking about choking and then coughing, spitting, face red, freaking out that I can’t breathe. That kind of choking that requires a good five-minute recovery, and even then, your throat is sore for the rest of the day, and not in a good way, if you know what I mean.

  Anyways, that happened.

  After my not-so ladylike recovery of obsessively clearing my throat for a good two minutes, I realize Barron is staring at me like he’s not sure whether I need the Heimlich or mouth to mouth. Honestly, if he was touching me in any way, I’d love it. His face pales. “Are you okay?”

  “Ch
rist on a cracker.” I clasp my hand to my chest. “I think my lung got stuck in my throat there for a second.”

  He stares at me as if he can’t believe he left this whacko with his children all day. And I can’t blame him one bit.

  “What happened to your clothes?” he asks, but there’s a smirk on his face as if he knows and he’s not saying anything.

  “We went up to the barn.” And I leave it at that because me falling into cow shit isn’t a story I want to tell this guy. It’s about as embarrassing as smashing into the side of his shop with my car or running around in his clothes like I’m playing house in some kind of Hallmark movie pretending to be something I’m not.

  Standing closer to me, his breath hits my face, his eyes drifting over my shoulder to his kids, still engrossed in whatever it is they’re watching on television. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he whispers, his rough Southern accent sending chills through my entire body.

  “What?”

  “There are cameras in the barn.”

  I hang my head in defeat. “I knew it.”

  “Daddy!” the girls yell when they notice their dad.

  “We makes a mommy spell.” That comes from Sev, who’s rubbing her entire body on the rug in front of the fireplace.

  Barron’s eyes shoot to mine. “What?”

  “They made a potion,” I say, gesturing to the pot on the stove.

  He glances into the pot and then eyes me with amusement. “Sounds like an eventful day.”

  “And Kacy fells in Poppy’s poop!” Sev rats me out, itching her arms.

  Barron chuckles and sets his thermos on the counter. “I thought something smelled in here.”

  “I don’t stink.” I grab hold of Sev, placing her in front of Barron. “She had these hives when I found her this morning.”

  He holds his arms out, and Sev reaches for him. “Ya itching, little girl?”

  She shakes her head, still itching. “No.”