Page 58 of Huckleberry Hill
She grinned. “What? It’s nice to be wanted.”
He isn’t the man I want.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she said.
“Why didn’t you ever remarry after Grandpa died?” I asked. “I’m sure many men were sniffing around you.”
She picked up her crochet needle and bent her head to her task when she answered the question. “A few. But I wasn’t interested in taking care of anyone else again. The ranch was enough work.”
“You took care of me. And Salem.”
“You’re my granddaughters. It’s different than caring for a dying spouse.” She shrugged. “There is the other issue, also.”
“What issue is that?”
She looked at me. “I wasn’t going to marry for companionship, and I only fell in love once.”
“Once?” I asked.
“Once. You’re young, though. You’ll love again.”
“You were young,” I protested. “When Grandpa died.”
“I was older than you. By a decade.”
“But didn’t you miss . . . ya know . . .”
Her lips twitched but she didn’t raise her head. “Miss what, Hadley?”
“Are you really going to make me say it?” I grumbled.
She cackled. “Yeah. I’m gonna make you say it. Especially if you expect me to answer.”
“Didn’t you miss sex?” I stage-whispered, feeling my cheeks heat.
“You don’t have to be married to enjoy sex.”
I gasped.
Muddy looked up and winked. “Like I said, there were several marriage proposals.”
“Several? You said a few.”
“Several, a few.” She shrugged. “I’ve lost track.”
“You’re a trip,” I said with a laugh.
The front door opened, and I heard the plodding of boots across the wooden floor before my father appeared in the doorway.
“Hey,” he greeted, his gaze bouncing between me and Muddy.
“Hey,” I said.
“What are you guys talking about?”
“Nothing,” Muddy and I said at the same time, causing us both to laugh.
