Chapter Seven. Duncan stood outside Taylor’s door, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his most presentable pair of jeans

Duncan stood outside Taylor’s door, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his most presentable pair of jeans. He had been standing there for quite a few minutes, not really sure what to do next.

He still was unclear as to why Buck had asked him, of all people, to go and fetch Taylor for supper. Not that Duncan minded the chore. Not that it was even a chore, really. It was just that he had not even actually met Taylor yet, not officially, but he was supposed to knock on her door and say…what? “Hi, you don’t know me, but Buck sent me to pick you up for dinner?”

Duncan figured he would be lucky if she did not deck him.

Well, maybe he did not really think she would deck him, although he had a strong sense that she could and totally would if properly motivated. After thinking about it for a second, Duncan decided that maybe it really was as simple as telling her Buck had sent him. As for why Buck had picked Duncan, it was not like Buck did not randomly assign duties to everyone, so Duncan supposed it was not really all that unusual. Still…

Oh, quit your chicken-shitting and knock on the damn door already.

And so he knocked.

And he waited.

Nothing. Not even the shuffle of a foot or the squeak of a bedspring.

He knocked again.

And he waited. Again.

Still nothing.

“You looking for something?”

Duncan jumped. Behind him stood Taylor, arms folded across her chest, towel slung across her shoulder, resting up against the wall.

“Shit, you scared me,” Duncan said, cursing himself again, this time for cursing.

If the guys could see me now, they’d be laughing at me for sure.

Taylor cocked her head to the side like a dog studying a stranger.

“I’m Taylor,” she said finally.

“Duncan,” he said, reaching out his hand and gripping hers in return. She shook firmly but not too forcefully. Duncan liked a firm handshake. It reminded him of his daddy. “But you can call me Dunk.”

Shit. Now why’d you go and tell her that dumb-ass nickname? She’s gonna think you’re some stupid kid.

“A lot of people call you that?” she asked, letting go of his hand. There was no hint of mockery in her tone, just curiosity.

“A few,” he said as she stepped around him and let herself into her room. “Mostly my parents growing up. My mom thought it was cute, I guess.”

She nodded thoughtfully, setting her towel down on the bed.

“I always thought it was kind of stupid,” he added, wanting to say it before she could.

“Then why do you use it?” she asked. “If you think it’s kind of stupid?”

He thought it over.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he said finally. “I guess it’s just what I know. Who I am. You know?”

“Well, if it’s who you are, then it seems like you should be proud of it.”

Duncan thought about that, too. He just did not know how to respond.

“What can I do for you?” Taylor asked, changing the subject. She turned her back on him and started shuffling through the backpack on the bed. Although her voice gave away nothing, Duncan thought he detected discomfort, a certain stiffness in her shoulders that betrayed her seeming nonchalance.

“Uh, well, you see we were all having dinner, and Buck noticed you weren’t there, so he sent me to come and get you.”

“I thought I’d skip it, thanks,” she said, her voice a bit more quiet than it had been. She continued riffling through her bag, and it seemed to Duncan she was not quite looking for something in a fairly obvious attempt to seem occupied, and he wondered why. He knew, though, that asking her outright was not going to get him anywhere he wanted to go.

“Well, you sure are missing out,” he said in his most enthusiastic voice. “Tonight we’ve got barbecue with all the fixings, like potatoes and biscuits and—”

“I get it. There’s a lot of food,” Taylor said. Duncan thought he heard the faintest hint of a chuckle in her voice. At least, he hoped that was what he was hearing. He pressed on.

“Definitely lots of food, or at least what passes for lots these days. One of the benefits of living on a farm, and Franny—that’s our resident cook—makes a pretty good meal. She must know fifty things to do with corn. We’re usually a little short on meat, which kind of sucks. A lot of the guys are always complaining about that, but Buck says if we slaughter all the cows and chickens, then we lose the milk and eggs, and those go a lot further than meat. Some of them go out hunting every now and then. Most of the time they don’t get much beyond a couple of rabbits or birds, but a couple days ago they managed to bring back a deer, hence tonight’s barbecue. And that’s not the best part.”

He felt a little bit like one of those cheesy game show hosts his momma used to watch sometimes, minus the sleaze factor, but it was working. At least it had gotten her attention. She finally stopped messing with the bag and turned to look at him. He swore he could see interest in her eyes, and was that her stomach he heard rumbling?

“No?”

“Oh no. After we’ve all finished eating, we clear the tables and put on some music and dance until our feet hurt!”

“Sounds very…aerobic,” Taylor said, a hint of sarcasm lacing her words. Whether it was a reaction to what he had described or how he had described it, Duncan was not sure, but he knew what it meant. He was losing her, and although he did not know why, he felt compelled to get her to agree to come to the barn.

“No, it’s really a lot of fun. Sometimes Buck pulls out his guitar and jams with a few of the other guys, some really great bluegrass stuff.”

Something flashed across Taylor’s face, but as quickly as it had come it was gone. She turned back to digging in her bag.

“Look, it sounds nice and all, but—”

“It’s really not as dumb as it sounds,” he rushed on. “I mean, everyone needs a break, right—”

“Duncan—”

“And the food’s really good, and everyone’s laughing and happy—”

“Duncan—”

“And I can tell you don’t really like bluegrass, but there’s other kinds of music too and—”

“Duncan—”

“And sometimes Kate sings and you should really come.”

Taylor stopped interrupting. Duncan drew in a deep breath, unsure of what her reaction meant. Taylor spoke quietly.

“Kate sings?”

“Yeah,” he said excitedly. “She’s got a voice like an angel. It’s really something.” He looked at her curiously, then added, “You know Kate?”

“We’ve met,” she said simply. Taylor looked down at herself, then back up at Duncan. “Am I dressed okay?”

She almost sounded like a kid, Duncan thought.

“Yeah, you’re fine. It’s all pretty informal,” he said, ignoring the fact that he had specifically chosen his nicest jeans and shirt for the evening. He did not want her to feel bad.

Taylor smiled awkwardly, like it had been a long time since she had smiled, so long that she might have almost forgotten how. He filed it away in the growing catalog of things he wondered about Taylor.

“Okay, then,” she said, slapping Duncan on the back and opening the door. “Lead on, Dunk.”

Duncan smiled. He liked the way she said his name.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31