Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dolly

"He's not going to be there, Lindsay." I pulled the last pie from the oven and tossed the hot pads on the counter.

"You don't know that," Lindsay countered through the phone, always the optimist.

I rolled my eyes. "The auction is tonight, Linds, and he's not here."

"He still has time to make it," she insisted as if saying it over and over would somehow make it true.

"When did you switch to Team Boone?" I asked and raised an eyebrow, my irritation clear.

"Since he came back into town and swept you and Nash off your feet." Her tone was teasing, but I could hear the seriousness beneath it.

I scoffed. "Yeah, and then he found out I lied to him for fourteen years, and then he left again. So, tell me how that counts as ‘sweeping' us off our feet?"

"Dolly," Lindsay said softly. "He didn't leave. Not for good. He had to go for work, and you know it."

I knew she was right, but it still felt like he had left. The past few days had been hard to ignore. Boone had texted me over the weekend, checking in, but we'd barely managed to connect beyond that. He was busy with rodeo sponsors, and I was juggling the store and Nash. Life kept getting in the way.

"Look," Lindsay continued, "the only reason why Boone really needs to be there is so Nash isn't disappointed. The whole town knows now that Boone's his dad, and I'm pretty sure Nash is counting on showing him off tonight."

I let out a sigh. "I don't blame him. Nash is proud of Boone. I get that."

"You'd have to be blind not to be dazzled by that man," Lindsay laughed.

"You haven't even seen him in person for years," I teased and shook my head as I glanced at the pies cooling on the counter. Boone was easy on the eyes, but that wasn't the point. Nash wanted to show off his dad because, in his eyes, Boone was amazing.

"Oh, sweetie, I have seen him on TV. I may be a married woman, but I'm not dead." Lindsay's laughter bubbled through the phone and lightened the mood a little.

I couldn't help but laugh along with her. "Well, his dazzling behind better be at the pie auction. That's all I'm saying."

"He'll be there," she repeated with so much confidence that I almost believed her.

"Mom!" Nash's voice echoed through the house as the front door swung open. He was home from school. I could hear his footsteps hurrying inside, and it reminded me that he was as anxious as I was to see Boone tonight.

"I gotta go, Linds. I'll let you know what happens." I ended the call and went to meet Nash in the living room, where he was pulling off his backpack and tossed it onto the couch. "Hey, bud. How was school?"

Nash shrugged, as nonchalant as ever. "It was fine. Did you get the pies made for tonight?"

I nodded, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Yup, all four of them are done and ready to go."

His eyes lit up a bit at that. "What kind did you make?"

"Two mile-high apple, bourbon pecan, and a buttermilk." I paused and hoped he wouldn't notice the significance of that last one. Boone's favorite. Why had I made that, knowing he likely wouldn't show?

"Nice," Nash said with a grin. "Thank goodness you didn't make a quiche."

I rolled my eyes. "I still have time to make one, you know."

His hands went up defensively, a panicked look crossing his face. "No, no! I don't want to be known as the kid whose mom makes quiche for a pie auction."

I laughed. "I think you're worrying too much about that, Nash. No one's going to care what pies your mom brings."

He shrugged. "You never know."

I watched him for a moment, his casual demeanor masking what I knew was excitement about tonight. I could see it in the way he kept glancing at his phone. I decided to bite the bullet and ask what had been on my mind. "Did you talk to Boone today?"

Nash nodded and tried to play it cool. "Yeah. He said he'd see us at the auction."

I felt a flicker of hope. "Great," I said with a smile. "I'm going to make some dinner, and then we can head to the library for the auction, yeah?"

"Cool." He was already halfway down the hall to his room. "I'm gonna play a few rounds of Zombie Slayer before we go."

I made my way back to the kitchen, where the pies sat cooling on the counter, and started pulling out ingredients for dinner. Simple mac and cheese was all I had in me tonight. No sense in getting fancy when we'd be heading out soon.

As I stirred the noodles, I couldn't help but hope Boone would make it to the auction in time. It wasn't just for Nash's sake anymore—it was for mine, too. I wanted him there. I wanted to see him walk through that door, flashing that grin of his that always made me weak in the knees.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much was at stake. Boone had his own life—his own commitments. This was a man who had traveled the world, made a name for himself, and now he was supposed to fit into the small life I'd built here in Magnolia Grove? It didn't seem fair to him. But Nash…Nash deserved to know his dad was in his corner.

The mac and cheese bubbled on the stove, and I stirred it absently, my mind miles away. Was Boone really going to show up? Or would we be sitting in the library later, pie after pie being auctioned off, with no sign of him?

I dished out the mac and cheese into bowls and set them on the table. "Nash, dinner's ready!" I called, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt.

He came into the kitchen with his game controller in hand, but he set it down on the counter and sat at the table without a word.

We ate in relative silence, the quiet ticking of the kitchen clock the only sound between us. I could tell Nash was nervous, even if he didn't want to show it. His fork scraped against his bowl, but he barely ate.

"Excited about tonight?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Nash nodded and glanced at his phone again. "Yeah. I just hope Boone gets here in time. I texted him and he hasn't texted back."

I tried to keep my voice light. "He said he'd be there, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but…" Nash trailed off, and I could see the doubt creeping in. He wasn't used to relying on someone who wasn't always around, and I couldn't blame him for feeling unsure.

"Listen," I said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "No matter what, we're going to have a good time tonight. You and me. We've got our pies, and we're going to make sure they bring in the big bucks."

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

We finished dinner, and as I rinsed the plates and set them in the dishwasher, I found myself staring out the kitchen window and hoped to see Boone's truck pull up outside.

But the driveway stayed empty.

I sighed and wiped my hands on a dish towel. The auction was in less than half an hour, and there was still no word from Boone. I wanted to believe Lindsay was right—that he'd show up, flash that grin, and everything would be fine. But the doubt gnawed at me.

"Nash, grab your jacket," I called. "We've gotta head out."

"Okay," he replied, his voice quiet. I knew he was feeling the same unease I was, but neither of us wanted to admit it.

As we loaded the pies into the car and started the short drive to the library, I kept one eye on the road and one on my phone, hoping for a text or call from Boone saying he was on his way.

But as we pulled into the parking lot, my phone stayed silent.

I parked the car, and Nash hopped out. He grabbed two of the pies and left two for me to carry. I followed close behind him, not knowing what was going to happen.

Boone was going to be there. He had to be.