Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1) by Stephanie St. Klaire

out coming, he enjoyed the extra hours, being busy, yet found himself grateful for the flexibility in his schedule today.
    “Oh Dawson, that’s much appreciated, honey, but we don’t want to keep you, we will manage; we always find our way, don’t we ladies?” Lou replied, not wanting to take advantage of his kindness, but hoping he would insist. She rather liked him, especially for Sam.
    “Really, Lou, I don’t mind, I don’t have anything to tend to. I’m off the schedule at the House for a while, and I really have nowhere else to be.”
    In that moment, his admission stung for the first time, at the realization that he really had nowhere else to be. He had no one waiting for him, no one that needed him, and for the first time, that reality left him feeling a little empty. All he really had was his job, and they were managing just fine without him. His testimony, slumped shoulders, and downward gaze gave away his sullen thoughts. When he met Granny Lou’s eyes, they were met with a knowing smile and another wink that he didn’t know what to make of.
    “Well then, Dawson Tayler, we would love’ta have ya. I imagine these next few days are going to be as easy as petting a cranky rattle snake, especially when Sam there wakes up. I imagine she’s going to be a little cantankerous with all these gadgets and bandages everywhere.”
    As quickly as it arrived, the grief and loneliness dissipated and was replaced with warmth and knowing that he finally belonged to something again, maybe even someone, even if it may be temporary.
    ***
    The day passed on into night. Granny Lou had run her errands, Ellie in tow, and they returned with grinders from the deli for lunch. The three of them kept each other company as they waited for Sam to wake up. Ellie Lou hadn’t left Dawson’s side all afternoon, following him everywhere but the bathroom, and only because Lou stopped her. When her little tummy had growled, filling the room with giggles, Dawson offered to grab everyone a bite to eat for dinner. Ellie frowned at the idea of him leaving and made it known that she would much rather have him there.
    “Oh, I’m not hungry Mr. Dawson, you should stay right here next to me so we can watch mama together.”
    Dawson was flattered by her taking to him; he was becoming quite fond of her too. She was sharp, funny, and full of laughs, something that he realized had been missing. It had been hours since returning with Granny Lou, and for four years old, he was impressed with her patience, but could tell perhaps it was running a little thin. He searched Granny Lou’s face, finding that familiar smirk and wink again, wondering where the boundaries lie, when her knowing eyes gave him confidence to proceed.
    “Well, if it’s alright with your Gran, maybe you would like to walk across the street with me and we can grab a pizza? That is if you like pizza; the Ponderosa has the best pizza for miles!”
    “Oh, pizza is my very favorite! My favorite is when the cheese is stretchy and sticks to my chin like a boy beard. Plus, I love olives and peppered-roni’s, and I can eat two big pieces cause I have lots of room for pizza, then I eat some for breakfast sometimes too, but I have to eat a fruit with my pizza, if its breakfast and the pineapples on the pizza don’t count.”
    “I’m starting to think everything is your favorite, and there is never a simple yes or no.”
    “Huh?”
    Ellie’s twisted expression and obvious confusion to his statement made Dawson laugh, something he found himself doing all day. Between Granny’s droll wittiness and Ellie being Ellie, he had enjoyed himself more than he had in what could be years even, all while sitting at the bedside of a comatose patient. The time with them was revealing what had been missing in his life—balance, which he so desperately needed.
    “Well, missy, I think pizza sounds as good as anything. A nice little walk might be good for the both of ya. Let me grab my wallet,”