Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [34]
At first the silence between them was awkward. Then Matt asked her a question about a new worming product for cattle, and before she knew it, they’d talked nearly an hour. Matt seemed as delighted as she by how easily their conversation had gone.
“I don’t generally talk cattle with women,” he told her, drinking the last of his beer.
Margaret wasn’t sure what he was telling her. He seemed to be implying that he didn’t think of her as a woman, which she found downright depressing. Especially since she’d taken pains to put on a dress. A dress, panty hose, the whole nine yards. It was the same outfit she’d worn for her father’s funeral, although he wouldn’t know that, seeing he hadn’t attended the services.
“I’d better check on dinner,” she said, bolting out of her chair.
“Margaret.” He stopped her as soon as she stood. “Did I say something wrong?”
She shook her head, then decided he probably wanted the truth. “If you don’t talk cattle with other women, then what do you talk about?” She sat on the ottoman facing him, staring at him intently.
Her question appeared to pull him up short, and he avoided eye contact before responding. “We talk about this and that. Nothing important.”
“Oh.”
“I enjoyed our conversation if that’s what concerns you.”
The tension eased out of her shoulders. This was as good as a compliment. She blushed and looked away. “I enjoyed it, too.” At ease once more, she said, “I’ll check on dinner and get us another beer.” She reached for the empty tumblers.
“Good idea,” Matt called after her.
She wasn’t gone long and when she returned they chatted again, this time on a variety of subjects—Buffalo Valley’s past and present, the feasibility of raising bison, like Jeb McKenna did, politics, religion and western movies. The beer loosened her inhibitions, and soon they were sharing a few jokes. It felt good to laugh, and to know he considered her a friend. The only other person she felt as comfortable around was Maddy McKenna. But this was different. Better.
“Are you planning to kiss me again?” The beer had given her courage to ask what had been on her mind for weeks.
“Do you want me to?”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded eagerly. “In the worst way.”
He cast his gaze down at his beer. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
As far as she was concerned, it was a helluva great idea. “Okay, okay, maybe we should eat first, then check out how we feel afterward.”
It didn’t help her ego any to see the blatant relief on his face. His attitude was playing havoc with her theory that he’d enjoyed their kisses.
Dinner was superb. Sadie might not have approved of Margaret’s inviting Matt for Thanksgiving dinner, but that hadn’t stopped her from preparing one of the finest meals in recent memory.
“More wine?” Margaret asked.
“I’ll pour,” Matt said, reaching for the bottle of chilled chardonnay before she could.
After two beers and two glasses of wine, Margaret’s reserve slipped even further. Propping her elbows on the table, she leaned toward Matt. “I want to talk about us kissing again, all right?”
“Margaret…”
“Please. You have to understand that something like this doesn’t happen to me every day. I have questions.”
He shifted, clearly uncomfortable.
“What did you think?” she blurted.
“Think?”
“You know. How was it?”
He held his wineglass by the stem and seemed to carefully consider his response. “It was…nice.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile. “It was fabulous for me, too,” she said, trying to sound mature, striving for sophistication. At the moment she was too pleased to care whether she succeeded or not. Hot damn, but he was a looker.
A silence followed, and she guessed he didn’t know what to say next. From her father, Margaret had learned to respect silence. It didn’t always need to be filled, particularly not with chitchat or superficial comments. She let several minutes pass, watching him, enjoying his nearness.
“Do you know the first time I saw you?” she finally asked.
Matt shook his head.
“It wasn’t too long after you moved here. I was rounding up strays and I came upon you and one