A Doctor Blind Date for the Cowboy

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Dex Dexin stood in the parking lot with the harsh afternoon sun beating down on his skin and watched as the car drove away, the lady with the beautiful dark wavy hair at its wheel. She'd done a good job of remaining calm in the midst of what had surely been an embarrassing situation. Something about her connected with him, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

He’d been headed to the detergent aisle when he’d noticed the lady standing alone in line at the checkout counter with a glaring rip in the back of her skirt. A few other customers in the store seemed to have spotted it as well.

Dex’s first instinct had been to ignore and move on—he didn’t need an accusation of s****l harassment just for noticing her dilemma. But then he’d imagined how Becca, his sister-in-law, might have felt if she was the one in that situation. So he’d gone up to her and dropped his shirt around her.

He was sure they’d never met before—he would have recalled her heart-shaped face and pert nose—and he’d never seen her around town. Maybe she was just passing through. There had been a lot more foot traffic in town lately, especially with the construction of the ER Center, which Dex’s brother, Max, had founded. Dex wasn't certain if this was to be the new normal.

Of course, he’d been expecting the change for some time now, though he’d only noticed the transition recently. Dex was in charge of the day-to-day operations of the ranch he co-owned with his brothers, which meant a full daily schedule and a rare chance to come into town. Still, he considered it a shift in the right direction.

As much as he loved his town, it was time for an injection of new blood in the area. Not that his motives were entirely altruistic. Dex had started to yearn for a family of his own, and none of the local ladies had caught his interest. They were wonderful women in their own right, but some loved the romantic idea of marrying a cowboy—not the reality of it. Dex needed a woman who made his heart skip a beat, one that loved him for who he was and not the name he represented, someone who appreciated his hands that worked the land, and who was willing to settle on a ranch with him.

Because, unlike his brothers, Dex knew the land and him were one. He could feel its heartbeat, knew this was his calling, and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. He wanted someone who would embrace him wholeheartedly, a person he could give his all to and trust it would be treasured.

Sure, he wasn’t as outgoing and smart as Jax, his other brother, or as handsome as Max, and he was more introverted than any of the other members of his family, yet Dex had a heart full of love to offer and treasured his family and God above everything else. Yet he had to be careful not to entrust his heart to the wrong person.

Maybe it was best for him to focus on the bootmaking mentoring program with the Weston Brothers he’d been preparing to apply for in the last few months. The submission deadline was coming up soon. The Weston Brothers were leaders in the custom bootmaking world, and their boots currently boasted a three-year waitlist.

If Dex was selected for this opportunity, he’d get the rare chance to learn from two of the world’s top masters in this field. It would open more doors for him in a hobby he loved, and maybe it would eventually turn into something more. The Weston Brothers mentored one aspiring bootmaker every two years and sometimes chose none if they didn’t find what they were looking for. Dex hoped he’d be selected this time around.

But enough dawdling. He still needed to pick up some detergent for Becca as well as other groceries. Maggie, his foster mom who’d run the household for many years, was on her honeymoon with her new husband, Peter. Becca wasn’t much of a homemaker and had her hands full with five-year-old Chloe, so Dex had taken control of the kitchen until Maggie returned. It was time for him to take care of business and then head home. He still had work to do around the ranch.

Dex turned and strode back to the store. As he reached its entrance, he saw Miss Prissy, Maggie’s longtime friend and the owner of a popular restaurant in town, pushing a cart out through the parted sliding glass doors, her sunglasses perched on top of her silvery short bob. The smell of fresh bread and coffee followed her out.

“Good afternoon, Miss Prissy,” Dex said, tipping his hat at her.

She looked up and flashed him a smile. “Hello, Dex,” she said. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“Me?” Miss Prissy had never asked to see him in all the years he’d known her, which was a very long time. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Well, I’m sure you must have heard that I opened a matchmaking business. Bought a weekly column in the local newspaper too.”

Dex raised his eyebrows. Matchmaking? Sure, Miss Prissy was the biggest gossip in town, and her restaurant was a well-known fountain of information. One only had to spend a few hours there to be up-to-date on the latest news in town—it still baffled Dex how the town's newspaper made any money with Miss Prissy around. But it was a big leap to go from being the town's best cook and gossip to opening a matchmaking business. “I haven’t,” he said.

Miss Prissy stared at him quizzically. “Really? Becca didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what, ma’am?” Dex was only half-listening and was keen to move on to the grocery shopping he still had to do. Experience had taught him never to hang around Miss Prissy for too long, else he might end up parting with some information that could become the latest news in town.

“The column in the newspaper will feature an eligible bachelor or lady each week, and folks who are interested will respond to the column and book a blind date with him or her,” Miss Prissy said. “Of course, we’ll vet each individual to make sure everything is on the up and up. But I’m so glad you’ve agreed to grace the maiden edition. We’ve already gotten a record amount of folks responding to your profile.”

Dex's heart jerked in his chest. Wait! What? His profile? He didn’t recall agreeing to anything of the sort. Dex was a very private person and didn't care for publicity of any kind, so he was pretty certain he hadn’t given his consent. “What are you talking about?” he insisted.

An elderly farmer who owned a couple of acres next to Dex’s ranch passed them on his way into the store. “Looking good, Dex,” the man said, patting Dex on the shoulder.

“He does, right?” Miss Prissy called after him.

Dex pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t some random joke—this was real. But how?

“Becca didn’t tell you? I mentioned it to her last week and asked that she pass the message to you, but she said it was fine and that you wouldn't mind.” Miss Prissy must have seen something on his face, because she said: “Oh, my! I hope this isn’t a big problem.” She searched her bag and pulled out a newspaper clipping. “Here. This is a copy of the column.”

Dex accepted the folded paper and flipped it open to see a smiling picture of himself staring back at him. The picture had been taken during Max and Becca's wedding reception, one of the few times he’d let down his guard around folks that weren’t family.

His nostrils flared. How could Becca have submitted his picture without his consent? She should have known better about his opinions on things like this. Now nothing could reverse it since it was already published. This newspaper feature could be why folks had been extra friendly to him since he’d entered the store. Yet he’d been the only fool who hadn’t known.

Dex took a deep breath to calm himself so as not to hurt Miss Prissy’s feelings. Maggie would have his hide if he did. “It’s fine,” he said, handing the clipping back to her.

Miss Prissy let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I was worried there for a moment.” She slipped the paper back into her bag. “I’ll contact you with the details once everything is all set.” She adjusted her sunglasses over her eyes. “I have to go now before Connie sends someone after me.” Connie was Miss Prissy’s niece who worked with her at the bed and breakfast she also ran.

“Let me help you with your cart,” Dex said.

Miss Prissy waved him away. “There's no need for that. Bob will handle it.” Indeed, Bob—a widower who’d been sweet on Miss Prissy since forever—was headed in their direction, his long legs eating up the distance. With how often they were together, Dex sometimes wondered why they never got married.

“Have a good day, ma’am,” Dex said, tipping his hat to her and watching as she headed to Bob’s car. Then he pulled out his phone and called Becca.

It rang through. He tried again but with no success. Since he considered this new development more pressing than the groceries he’d come for, Dex tucked his phone into his pocket and headed for his pickup truck.

He could always come back for the groceries another time.

But he needed to speak with Becca immediately.