“All yours,” he said, and she pulled out the chair next to Gabi Bellamore. As she shifted, the woman behind the little girl came into view, and Dawson’s flesh and muscles dang near flowed out of his skin.
Caroline Thompson.
Dawson felt everything inside him blazing, and as their eyes met, he wondered what she saw. Him, obviously, as she froze. The little girl, who was probably sixor seven years old, took the seat in the middle of the remaining three available while the other woman took her seat next to Gabi, and that left the only open seat next to Dawson.
Caroline’s eyes narrowed then, and she practically stomped over to the chair and yanked it out. “Hello, Dawson,” she clipped out.
“Caroline,” he said easily. He hadn’t seen her since their impromptu breakfast together at the diner a few months ago. He hadn’t filed any paperwork either, which was probably why Caroline now shot ninja stars at him from her eyes.
She’d also texted him a time or two—not about owls or paperwork—that had left him confused, and he hadn’t answered her. Maybe she was surly about that too.
Their breakfast together had been fine, in his opinion. They hadn’t talked much once the food had come, and he’d managed to maintain his dignity as they’d walked out together. He’d tipped his hat at her and gone to his truck while she went to hers. She’d sent him her half of the bill before he’d even gotten the air conditioning blowing in his truck, and she hadn’t pestered him again about the missing paperwork.
They didn’t have owls at the Rhinehart Ranch, plain and simple. And she couldn’t make him file without proof of the endangered animals. She’d tried to say the ranch was prime habitat for the burrowing owls, and sheneeded him to file paperwork saying he wouldn’t disrupt their habitat, but he’d ignored her.
In fact, he’d looked up the law, and he didn’t have to file anything about a habitat, not even for an endangered animal—until the animal was there. Then, they couldn’t remove the animals and destroy their habitat, but until the little owls chose the Rhinehart Ranch as their home, Caroline couldn’t force Dawson to do anything.
“Thanks for coming to the firehouse fundraising breakfast,” someone said. “We’re going to go ahead and get started. Thank you for your support of our firemen and our efforts to improve our emergency services for the people of Three Rivers.”
After a quick prayer, where silence descended on them, the noise broke out as people stood and started talking. And talking, and talking, and talking.
Dawson should have something to say to Caroline, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a single thing. He looked at the little girl next to her and found they had the same hair color.
“Your daughter?” he asked, not sure why he’d gone there. If Caroline Thompson had a daughter, she could have a husband, and that would mean Dawson’s fizzing crush on the woman indicated he’d gone insane.
He glanced over to the other woman sandwiching the girl, and she looked like Caroline too.
“No,” she said, but she didn’t offer up any information about whothe girl was.
“Niece?” Dawson tried again.
Caroline glared at him. “Yes, Mister Rhinehart. This is Judy. She’s my niece.”
He managed to smile at the girl as she looked at her aunt and then him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dawson.”
“Hi, Dawson,” Judy said in a cute, high-pitched, little-girl voice. She looked over to her mama and back to him.
“I’m Dawson,” he said again as he reached his hand across the table to Caroline’s obvious sister. “You must be?—”
“My sister,” Caroline barked, cutting him off. “Belle. She’s going to be living with me for a while.”
Another smile manifested itself. “That’s great,” he said, shaking her hand. He pulled it back and noticed the two sisters exchange a glance. He ignored it and indicated his mama and daddy. “My parents. Wade and Abby.”
“Great to meet you,” Belle said. “How do you know Caroline?”
“Well, uh.” Dawson shifted in his seat, wishing they’d somehow call their table up to get food. His eyes tracked over to the table where people had just gotten up, and they still had three to go until he could reasonably stand. “We had breakfast together once.”
“No,” Caroline said. “He’s one of the ranches who won’t file the endangered habitat paperwork.”
Dawson looked over to his father, whose frown lineshad deepened between his eyes. “Ranchescan’t file paperwork,” he said quietly. “Peoplefile paperwork.”
Caroline scoffed, but she didn’t correct herself.
“Where are you guys from?” he asked Judy and Belle.
Belle didn’t seem to have any of the tight-lipped qualities of Caroline, and she started telling him and everyone at the table about their move from Phoenix. She never mentioned a husband, and Dawson didn’t have time to ask before their table became eligible to go get in line for breakfast.
He expected to be separated from Caroline then, because his parents didn’t move fast at all these days, and he wouldn’t just leave them in the dust. But Judy didn’t move fast either, and with all the tables and chairs and people, they ended up joining the line in the same order where they’d been sitting at the table.