Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dolores stayed quiet, observing. Zacky took the chair beside her.

Maurício appeared first, a friendly smile spreading across his face the moment he saw her.

“Good evening, Mrs. Dolores.”

She returned the smile.

“Good evening.”

Right behind him came three other workers. Each one, upon seeing her seated at the Carter family dining table, did the exact same thing: straightened their posture, removed their hats, and greeted her.

“Welcome,” Pedro said.

“It’s a pleasure to have you with us, ma’am,” Tião added.

Billy didn’t even try to hide his admiration.

“Wow… I mean… good evening, ma’am,” he corrected himself, turning red.

Dolores let out a soft laugh, finding the whole thing adorable.

Zacky, on the other hand, only grunted.

“Maurício, tell Pedro to let us know when dinner’s ready. They keep talking and it delays everything.”

“I already told him, boss,” Maurício replied, sitting at the corner of the table. “It’s just that someone new here has everyone excited.”

Zacky lifted a brow.

“Not excited. Distracted.”

Dolores tilted her head.

“If I’m getting in the way, I can eat somewhere else.”

Silence.

Zacky turned to her, serious.

“No one said you’re getting in the way.”

“You came very close to saying it,” she replied calmly.

His jaw tightened.

Maurício hid a smile and elbowed Billy lightly, who nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Pedro appeared at the kitchen door with a cloth over his shoulder.

“Dinner is ready!”

Dolores took a deep breath, trying to stay composed. She glanced sideways at the cowboy.

He glanced back.

Then Pedro placed the dishes on the table, breaking the moment.

Slowly, everyone started talking about their workday, the horses, and the storm that was expected later that night.

And Dolores noticed that these men were tough, big, strong… but also gentle, loyal, and nothing like anyone she had ever known.

Curiously, Dolores asked:

“Don’t women work on the ranch?”

Billy, who was chewing an enormous piece of bread, almost choked trying to answer quickly.

“They do, ma’am!” He wiped his mouth with his hand. “Mrs. Noêmia takes care of the house cleaning. Ana and Ester handle the strawberries… and there’s also the veterinarian who comes every other day.”

Maurício raised his eyebrows, already knowing what was coming.

Billy continued innocently:

“…to see Maurício.”

Everyone laughed, and Maurício kicked him under the table.

“To see the cattle, Billy. The cattle.”

“Oh, right… the cattle,” Billy repeated, blushing.

Dolores couldn’t contain her laughter.

Zacky only shook his head, hiding — or trying to hide — the hint of a smile.

Hours went by, and one by one, everyone excused themselves until only Zacky and Dolores remained at the table, talking quietly.

Before leaving, Pedro placed a large bowl of meat in the corner of the kitchen and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

As soon as silence filled the room, Nyra entered, sniffing the air. She approached the bowl carefully, her bright eyes studying it before she began to eat.

Dolores still wasn’t used to that exotic animal, but she had to admit Nyra seemed surprisingly calm… and very smart.

She turned her attention to Zacky, watching him down another glass of wine as he stared at the moonlight through the window, his broad shoulders lit by the pale glow.

“You must be tired,” he murmured without looking directly at her. He lifted his glass toward her. “Want one?”

“I’ll take it.”

Zacky opened another bottle with slow, practiced movements and poured her a glass. The aroma of the wine blended with the warm silence settling between them.

After finishing her first glass, courage gently warmed by the alcohol, Dolores took a steady breath and attempted to revisit the land discussion.

“About the land…” she began softly.

But Zacky lifted his hand, stopping her before she could continue.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” His voice was firm and final. “You’re gonna have to wait until I drink five liters before you’ll catch me discussing something that, to me, is already finished before it even starts.”

He took another sip and added, still looking at the window:

“We can talk about anything else… except that.”

Dolores felt her chest sink. It was the second time she tried, and once again she hit the wall he kept firmly in place.

To cover her disappointment, she slid her long fingers through the loose strands near her ear. The gesture was simple. And Zacky noticed.

He noticed too much.

His glass paused halfway to his mouth when he caught the softness of her skin under the kitchen light. He noticed her well-kept nails, the slow, almost shy way she adjusted her hair.

For a moment — just one — he stopped thinking about land, contracts, and annoyances.

He thought about those delicate fingers…

He thought about where else they might touch.

Zacky inhaled sharply, almost annoyed at himself for the direction his mind wandered.

He took another breath, pushing the forbidden subject away, and changed the topic abruptly, as if reorganizing his thoughts:

“What do you do for a living, Dolores?”

“I own a clothing store… a boutique, actually,” she replied, setting her glass on the table.

Zacky raised a brow.

“Now it makes sense how you managed to save money. Do you have another business?”

“No, just that one.”

“It’s a start,” he said casually, as if giving unsolicited advice. “You could take the money you saved and open a second location.”

Dolores exhaled slowly, swallowing the irritation rising up her neck.

“That’s not my intention,” she said, firm yet controlled.

He noticed, but didn’t back off. He simply downed another full glass as if it were water. Then thunder rumbled in the distance, making the windows tremble slightly.

Zacky listened closely.

“It’s gonna rain,” he murmured, standing. He grabbed two bottles and his glass, like a man who already knew the routine. “Let’s go inside. It’s gonna pour tonight.”

He didn’t wait for her answer. He simply walked toward the hallway, and Dolores rose to follow.

Zacky set the bottles on the small table in the living room, poured more wine for both of them, and settled onto the wide leather sofa. Dolores sat in the armchair.

They drank in silence for a few minutes, listening to the wind gathering strength outside. Then suddenly everything went dark.

“Damn…” Zacky muttered.

Dolores stopped breathing.

The darkness was nearly absolute.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” he said calmly, as if blackouts were normal around the ranch.

She heard his steps crossing the living room, then the click of a door. Moments later, a soft flicker of light appeared. Zacky returned holding an old lantern, its flame dancing and casting warm shadows across his face.

“Here,” he said, placing it between them. The room gained a soft, intimate glow.

A loud crash made the window rattle.

Dolores flinched, but tried to disguise it, straightening up and lifting her glass, although her fingers trembled.

The rain started suddenly — thick, heavy, hammering the windows as if trying to break in.

Another lightning bolt split the sky, white and fast, and the thunder followed almost instantly.

Dolores gasped.

Zacky noticed immediately.

“Afraid of storms?” he asked, his tone gentler than she had ever heard from him.

“No… of course not…” she tried to deny, focusing on her glass.

A new flash lit up the entire room. The thunder exploded so loudly it felt like the floor shook.

This time she couldn’t hide it. Her body tensed, she gripped the armrest of the chair, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Dolores…” Zacky stood slowly. “You okay?”

“I… I don’t like that noise,” she finally admitted in a whisper.

Another thunderclap. She clutched her chest, breath catching.

Zacky exhaled deeply, walked to her side, and extended a hand — not touching her, but close enough for her to reach.

“You want me to stay close?”

She looked up at him, vulnerable, defeated by the storm and the fear she had fought to hide.

“I do…” she murmured.

He pulled a second armchair to sit just a few inches from her.