Chelsea was always fawning over the cowboy. It wasn't that she was obsessed, or head-over-heels in love with the silver-haired man; I think fascination was more of the word that fit her. The man didn't want a thing to do with anything except for the animals he dealt with, and the only reason he put up with Mirabell and Julia was because they came with the deal.
Chelsea didn't exactly understand why someone who was supposed to be so caring and nice to his animals, was so ruthless and cold to people. She couldn't see why, unlike the other villagers, he was so shut off and antisocial. Nothing she did seemed to please him, or even cause him to crack a smile, something that bothered the younger brunette.
"Don't be worryin' about him," I told her, casting my fishing line into the water. It whizzed above my head, the hook landing in the water several tens of feet ahead of us, the line causing a ripple in the water. She sat beside me, her feet dangling in the salty water. Her rain boots had been discarded along the beach. "There's lots'a other guys you could be settlin' down with, Chelsea."
"I know, Denny..." The girl sighed beside me, her arms braced at the edge of the dock, her eyes shut against the breeze that ruffled her hair. "I just wish he'd smile, y'know?"
"Yeah, I understand."
I kinda wished you'd smile too, Chelsea.
She tried. I'd give her credit for that; Vaughn was a hard nut to crack. No matter how many one-sided conversations I'd have with him at the Diner or how much Chelsea grinned at him, trying to get the man to open up even in the slightest, he barely budged. He didn't want a thing to do with Chelsea, or anyone else for that matter.
"I just don't understand, Denny."
We were sitting on the edge of the dock, her knees brought up under her chin, one of my flannel jackets pulled over her shoulders. It was the night before the Autumn season, and the weather was just getting cold enough to require some sort of overcoat or long-sleeved shirt. Her field was ready to plant the next day; all she'd have to do is plant the seeds and water them.
The sun was beginning to show over the horizon, a tiny speck of color, causing ripples of light in the water around us.
"Don't worry about it," I told her, a sigh escaping my lips. "You've got people who'll smile for you already, ya know? If he wants to be a dick about it, let 'em."
The silence I received was enough to tell that I hadn't given her a proper response. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging the girl over and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. The sun was peaking, invading on our privacy, making her flushed face more evident and the blush on my own cheeks a little more obvious.
"Don't worry about getting him to smile for you," I said. "I want to see you smile for me, baby girl."
She did.
"Sabrina managed to get him to smile."
It was spring; the humidity in the air had caused a thick fog to settle over the early morning. She hadn't been up long, I could tell by the way she was rubbing at her face and how she tried not to yawn. Her shoes found their way onto the beach, and moments later she was sitting on the dock next to me, her toes dipped in the water.
"Good for her," I told Chelsea. My fishing pole was poised between my knees, propping myself back on the palms of my hands and staring up into the sky. "They're both pretty quiet people. They'll be good for each other."
"Thank you, Denny," she said softly. I looked over at her, raising my eyebrows; she'd taken to staring at my face, as if taking in every detail, and I pretended not to notice or mind.
"What for? I didn't do nothin' for you." I told her, nonchalantly glancing away from the girl beside me. I didn't notice her leaning in until her hot breath brushed against my cheek, her lips pressing against the corner of my mouth.
"Thank you for smiling for me, Denny," she murmured.
"Any time, baby girl."