Second Dance Cowboy (Second Chance) (12 page)

          
“Is my uncle going to be okay,” Peyton asked.

“Yes, he’ll recover fully
. He just needs to take better care of himself.”  Doctor Neil bent and listened to Marty’s heart.

Peyton gave her uncle a scowl over the doctor’s head. “Is it serious?”

Doctor Neil replaced his scope and looked at Peyton, kind eyes made her pulse slow. “We have to take into consideration several factors here. One, your uncle is in his early seventies. Two, he had a mild heart attack last June, and although his heart sounds fine now, he’s still recovering. With these two factors in mind, he’s working too hard and he’s not sleeping well. I’ve given him a prescription to relax, but you know how stubborn he is.”

“Yes, I do.” Peyton sent her uncle another look of disappointment.

“I’m too young to sit around, Doc Neil. You know what happens when an old person gives up on their day-to-day activities. They rot away.” Uncle Marty sighed.

“No one
is asking you to give up on activity, Marty. Indeed, activity is good, as long as you’re not getting fatigued.” Doctor Neil patted his arm.

“Is that why he passed out? Exhaustion?”
Peyton asked.

“
I believe his blood pressure dropped, he became dizzy and blacked out. Thankfully, your son was there to help. In the ambulance they placed him on oxygen and set up an IV, that’s protocol in this circumstance.” Doctor Neil pulled out a small tablet and pen from the pocket of his white smock. “I’m going to prescribe him a blood pressure pill and see how it works and I’ll want to see him in my office in a few days. He can call Dorothy, the receptionist, first thing Monday morning and she’ll get him in.”

“I don’t like
taking medicine,” Uncle Marty huffed. “Isn’t the heart pill enough?”

“You’re not being asked if you like to take something that you need. We need you healthy,”
Peyton squeezed his hand. Out of everyone, she knew she was about the only one who could chastise the older man and get by with it.

“The pill I’m prescribing takes care of something different than the heart pill you’re on.”
Doctor Neil wrote on the pad, tore out a sheet and handed it to Peyton. “Take these as prescribed and we’ll see if they help. If not, then we’ll try something else. And don’t worry, it’s a mild dosage and you can mix it with applesauce if you’d like.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Peyton
answered for her uncle who was sulking over the prognosis.

“Do you have any questions?” Doctor Neil asked.

“No, I don’t.” The doctor left and Peyton laid her fists on her hips, eyeing her uncle. “You should have been nicer to him,” she scolded.

“He knows I don’t like meds. He knows you’ll make me take them.”
He turned up his nose. His scowl and layer of sandpapery beard made him look bitter. “I’m not that old.”

“This
may be none of my business, sir,” Dillon stepped closer, “but age isn’t the important element here. My brother Deckland takes heart meds. He has since he was in his twenties. No one would know by looking at him.”

Confusion poured over Peyton.
Deckland had a heart condition. There was so much more she wanted to know about his family. Would she get the chance? They’d made love, but so what? Many people these days had sex to ease dry spells, what made this any different?

Wh
o was she kidding? She was
different
. She’d never had a one-night stand. In fact, she didn’t see what happened with Dillon as a fling.

“I’m sorry to hear that, son
. Is he doing okay?” Uncle Marty asked.

“He’s stronger than I am.
He’s never let his heart condition stop him from doing what he wants, or needs to do. But he knows he has to take a pill twice a day for the rest of his life so that he can continue to do the things he likes.”

“Then I shouldn’t comp
lain that I have to take a pill a day at my age. I guess this is all part of aging.” There was less agitation in his tone.

“Thank you.” Peyton mouthed the words to Dillon who gave her a small smile.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“THANK YOU FOR
agreeing to this, JoAnne.” Peyton watched the grey-haired woman bustle around the living room dusting the furniture. She’d gotten her name from a friend and Peyton had hired her immediately to come in and help with Uncle Marty. He’d been a bit of a grump, especially when Peyton had told him she’d hired JoAnne. He hated being taken care of worse than he hated the green pills the doctor had prescribed. Peyton couldn’t complain though. He took them that morning without a fuss. “I wish I could do this myself, but I can’t be at the studio and here at the same time.”

“No, need to explain, dear.” JoAnne
paused over the duster to give Peyton a genuine smile. “Now, what did you say your uncle’s favorite lunch is?”

“Fried
bologna on wheat bread. I think he’s eaten a sandwich every day for the last ten years. He likes a blot of mustard.”

“That’s easy enough,” Joanne replied.

Peyton wouldn’t say any of this was easy. “He can be a bit cantankerous at times.”

JoAnne dropped the feather
duster into the cleaning container. “No worries, Peyton. Now you need to drop that guilty expression and head on out. Didn’t you say you needed to be at the studio by one?” Peyton nodded. How did this woman, who barely knew her, recognize that Peyton was guilty for leaving her uncle? She wore her emotions on her sleeve. For years, she’d tried to manage her expressions, but to no avail. “You’re going to be late. I’ll take good care of Marty. I promise.”

Peyton trusted her, and she realized if she didn’t leave the sweet wom
an to her job she may rethink her position. “And banana pudding.”

“What is it, dear?
”

“H
e likes banana pudding. I put some in the cabinet.” Then she left before she became a nuisance.

Dillon popped into her head—a
n instant heat rush.

He’d brought her and Oliver ho
me from the hospital while Uncle Marty stayed for observation, and they’d parted on her front step. She’d said goodbye and he’d told her he’d call. He hadn’t followed through since. Not that she was counting the hours.

Oh hell.
Maybe she was counting.

Sure, she wanted to hear his voice. Making love with him h
ad been amazing, not that she’d expected any less because she knew men like Dillon worked hard—and he’d certainly worked to please her.

Peyton flipped down the visor and slid on her glasses
. The afternoon Texas sun streamed through the window warning her it’d be a hot one. Sweat beaded between her breasts and she smoothed her fingertips across her forehead, knowing she’d find no comfort until she saw Dillon again. She’d gotten a taste, and just like an addict, she wanted more and more with no care of the repercussions.

Pulling
along the street in front of the studio, she killed the engine and removed her glasses. As she climbed out and started toward the door, she looked through the large picture window and saw Aspen standing at the counter.

The
bell dinged as Peyton entered and Aspen looked up from the planning book. “How’s it going?” Peyton asked.

“I’m glad to say the
weekend class is now booked. You’ll have to consider another evening class.”

Peyton let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m already gone three evenings right now and I hate to do that
to Oliver. And Uncle Marty needs me.”

“I’m sorry ab
out your uncle, Pey. I’m glad he’s okay though.” Aspen came around the counter and pulled Peyton in for a quick, but tight, hug.

“Thank you, but he’s got a lot of life left in him.”

“I know he does. And I’ve been on pins and needles waiting to hear about the engagement party? From what I’ve heard, the boys behaved themselves.”

“They behaved alright
, especially one.” Her cheeks warmed.

“Wait a second here.
I know that look. Did you and Dillon—uhh—have sex?” Aspen’s expression was one of disbelief.

Peyton had never been one to kiss and tell, but she had to talk about that evening with someone and who better to divulge information to than her best friend. “We did.”

“No wonder there’s a new glint in your eye. It’s miraculous what good sex can do to a woman’s health and appearance.”

“If that’s the case
, I should look at least ten years younger because I certainly feel it.” Peyton could barely contain the squeal in her tone. She hadn’t been this excited since high school.

“Girl, that cowboy is hotter than hot.” Aspen fanned herself dramatically.
“I bet you’re ready for another scorching night. Aren’t you?” she teased.

Peyton frowned. “If I hear from him again.”

“He hasn’t called?” One thin brow lifted. “But again, he’s got a lot going on at the ranch.”

“Sure, I know that. I’m
not really expecting anything. It was a great night, but it doesn’t mean we’re heading to a blown out affair or anything. I’m a mother and I don’t have the freedom like a lot of women do.”

“Freedom is overrated, sweetie. A man would be lucky to have you an
d Oliver. Plain and simple.” Aspen closed the book and laid down her pen.

“Coming from someone who
has freedom,” Peyton winked as she grabbed a granola bar from her purse and tore open the package. She’d missed lunch.

Aspen propped her chin on her palm. “I’ve been offered a job.”

Mouth full, Peyton almost choked. “Wa—t—er.” Her friend quickly snatched a bottle from under the counter, unscrewed the lid and handed it over. Peyton guzzled half. Swallowing the dry bar, she dropped the remaining snack into the trashcan. “Where?”

“In Shelby
. I was visiting Deckland yesterday evening and I happened to mention to him that I wished I could find work using my accounting degree. Dillon told me he’d heard the McAllister Ranch, where he’d worked, was hiring a bookkeeper for an expansion of business. He made a call to a friend and I got a call early this morning.”

Peyton
nodded. “And you’re taking it?”

“It’s a great offer.
You know I’ve been hoping to find something that pays better.” Her mouth thinned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you’re not paying me enough.”

“No apology,” Peyton said. “I can’t pay you what you’re worth. You deserve something better than a part-time job at a studio.”
The sadness in Aspen’s expression made the feathery hair on Peyton’s neck lift.

“Shelby is a few hours away, but I’ll still come and visit.”

Tears filled Peyton’s eyes but she forced them away. A good friend meant being supportive. Aspen had been waiting a few years for a big break, and maybe this was her calling. “Dillon bragged about the people he worked with. I think you’d like it.” Her smile may not have been genuine, but Peyton planted one on. Losing Aspen was like losing a sister.

“I know.
It’s not what I planned, but the money, it’s good. Yet, if you can’t spare me—”

“Stop right there.” Peyton grabbed her friend’s hand. “If this will add to your life then you
should say yes, if this is what you want.”

“I think it is. No, I know that it is.
I need to broaden my wings.”

“
Then so be it. Sounds like you have a new job.” Peyton squeezed her hand and stepped away. “It’s about time you do someone else’s books.”

Aspen’s frown deepened. “Who will help y
ou? Sorry, but we both know you’re lousy at bookkeeping.”

“Not
for you to worry about, hun. I’ll find someone, or maybe I’ll take one of the evening accounting classes over at the community college. No matter what, I’ll be fine. I’m happy for you.”

Aspen gave her long blonde locks a toss. “I guess this means I won’t get to sample that big, powerful juicy Deckland. Have
you noticed that his back is big enough to carry the weight of the world? I can only imagine how big his—” The door chimed. “Saved by the bell. I guess I’ll have to leave those thoughts to fantasy.”

“Guess so.” They laughed and welcomed the first dancer.

****

What the hell was he doing? Dillon growled as he parked his truck on the street behind Peyton’s Focus. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t show up on her doorstep, and instead he comes to the studio. It wasn’t any better. They’d had a great night—first the engagement party and then her house. She’d been giving, exploring, sensitive, and on fire. He’d fallen asleep with her tucked in the crook of his arm, and for the life of him, she’d seeped into his bones.

And then
he woke up to her eyes misted with tears and trembling in her bottom lip as she told him about her uncle.

At that moment
, she’d engaged his every protective part. He’d wanted to pull her into his safety, wrap his arms around her and whisper into her ear, encouraging her that everything would be okay. He couldn’t make any promises, though.