Kitabı oku: «The Cowboy's Family», sayfa 3

Chapter Three

If it hadn’t been for Kat and Molly she wouldn’t have climbed into this truck and taken a ride with Wyatt. But the girls, with their sweet smiles and tight hugs, they were what mattered. Little girls should never hurt. They shouldn’t hide their pain in cheesecake or think their self-worth depended on the brand and size of their jeans.

Oh, wait, that had been her, her childhood, her pain.

“You aren’t carsick, are you?” Wyatt’s voice was soft, a little teasing. Yummier than cheesecake. And she hadn’t had cheesecake in forever.

She glanced his way and smiled. “I don’t get carsick.”

“Good to know. The girls do. Not on roads like this, fortunately.”

“We keep a trash can back here.” Molly informed her with the voice of young authority. Rachel heard the tap, tap of a tiny foot on plastic.

She looked over her shoulder at the two little girls on the bench seat behind her. Kat’s eyes were a little droopy and she nodded, her head sagging and then bouncing up. Molly looked as if she had a lot more to say but she was holding back.

Poor baby girls. Wyatt loved them, but there was an empty space in their lives that a mom should have filled. And they wouldn’t even have memories of her as they grew older. They would have pictures and stories their dad told.

If he told stories. She chanced a quick glance in his direction and thought he probably didn’t tell stories about the wife he’d lost. He probably had a boat load of memories he wished he could lose.

“Here we are.” He flipped on the turn signal and smiled at her as he pulled into a gated driveway. “Can you pull through and I’ll open the gate?”

“I can open the gate.” She reached for the door handle and opened it, ignoring his protests. It was a lot easier to be outside away from him. A soft breeze blew in warm spring air and she could hear cattle at a nearby dairy farm.

She loved Oklahoma. Growing up she’d lived just about everywhere, but mostly in bigger towns and cities. She’d never felt like she belonged. Maybe because she had always been the pastor’s kid, poor in wealthy subdivisions, trying to fit in. Or maybe because deep down she’d always wanted to be a country girl.

She had wanted to jump out of trucks and open gates. She had studied about sheep, wool and gardening. Pitiful as it sounded, she’d watched so many episodes of The Waltons, she could quote lines. She couldn’t think about it now without smiling.

The truck eased through the gate and stopped. She pushed the gate closed and latched the chain. When she climbed back into the truck, Wyatt wasn’t smiling.

“I said I’d get it.” He shifted into gear and the truck eased forward again.

“I don’t mind.”

“No, you don’t.”

Oh, no, he hadn’t! She shot him a look. “I’m not five. I don’t mind opening gates. I really don’t have to mind you.”

His brows went up. He reached for the hat he’d set on the seat next to him and pushed it back on his head. The chicken wasn’t going to comment. She glanced back at the girls and smiled. Kat was sleeping. Molly stared out the window, her eyelids drooping.

Wyatt parked next to the barn, still silent. But when she glanced his way, she saw the smile. It barely lifted the corners of his mouth, but it was there.

“This shouldn’t take long.” He opened his door and paused. “I think you and the girls can get out and look around.”

“Thanks, we’ll do that. If you think I can handle it. After all, I’m five.”

“You’re not five. You’re just…” He shook his head and got out of the truck. He didn’t say anything else. He opened the back door of the truck and motioned for the girls to get out. He set each of them on the ground and then glanced back in at her. “Getting out?”

“Yeah, I’m getting out.”

She’d been crazy to stop at his house. She was still trying to figure it out. He smiled at something Kat said. Oh, that’s right, now she remembered. It was that smile. She wanted him to smile like that at her.

“Wyatt, good to see you.”

She turned to face the man who’d spoken. He stood outside the barn and everything about him said “rancher.” From his dusty boots to his threadbare jeans, he was a cowboy. His skin was worn and suntanned, making deeper lines around his mouth and crinkles at his eyes. His hair was sun-streaked brown. He winked at her.

“Jackson, I’m surprised to see you here. I thought your brother was meeting me.” Wyatt stepped toward the other man, hand extended.

“Yeah, he’s at the bank. You know, he’s Mr. Work-aholic.”

“Got it. So what are you doing these days?”

“Oh, trying to stay away from trouble. But most of the time, trouble just seems to find me.” He smiled at Rachel. “Hi there, Trouble.”

Heat climbed her cheeks.

“Jackson Cooper, meet Rachel Waters. Her father is the pastor of the Dawson Community Church.”

If Wyatt had used that introduction to put the other man in his place, Jackson Cooper didn’t look at all embarrassed. “If our pastor’s daughter looked like you, I might just get right with God.”

Wyatt wasn’t smiling. “Okay, let’s look at the bull.”

“You gonna ride him?” Jackson laughed.

“I doubt it.”

“Chicken?” Jackson Cooper obviously didn’t know about backing down. She thought it might be a family trait; not backing down. She had heard about the Coopers. There were about a dozen of them: biological and adopted.

“Nope, just smarter than I used to be. I haven’t been on a bull in a half-dozen years and I don’t plan on starting again.”

“There’s a lot more money in it these days,” Jackson continued, his smile still in place.

“Plenty of money in raising them, too.” Wyatt turned to his daughters. “You girls stay with Rachel and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The men left them and Rachel smiled down at the girls. “I think we should make clover chains.”

One last glance over her shoulder. Wyatt picked that moment to stop and watch them, to watch his girls. Rachel turned away.

“Nice bull.” Young, but definitely worth the money the Coopers were asking. Wyatt watched the young animal walk around the corral. He was part Brahma, long and rangy with short legs. He’d been used in local rodeos last year and was already on the roster for some bigger events.

“Want me to get a bull rope and chaps?” Jackson leaned over the corral, a piece of straw in his mouth.

“No, I think we know what he’ll do. And we know where you live if he doesn’t.”

“He’ll go out of the chute to the right for about four spins and then switch back and spin left. He’s got a belly roll you won’t believe.”

“Your brother, Blake, told Ryder that he isn’t mean.” Wyatt continued to watch the bull. The animal pushed at an old tire and then stomped the dusty ground.

“He’s never hurt anyone. But he’s a bull, Wyatt. They’re unpredictable, we both know that.”

“Yeah, I know we do.” They’d lost a friend years ago. They’d been teenagers riding in junior events when Jimmy got killed at a local event.

“That was a rough one, wasn’t it?” Jackson’s sister had dated Jimmy.

“Yeah, it was rough.” He brushed away the memories. “Do I write you a check?”

“Sure. So, is she your nanny?” Jackson nodded in the direction of Rachel Waters. She was in the large yard and the girls were with her. They were picking clover and Rachel slipped a chain of flowers over Molly’s head.

Wendy should have been there, doing those things with their daughters. He let out a sigh and refocused on the bull. It took a minute to get his thoughts back on track. Jackson didn’t say anything.

“No, she isn’t.” Wyatt pulled the checkbook out of his back pocket. “I like the bull, Jackson. I don’t like your price.”

Jackson laughed. “Well, now, Wyatt, I don’t know that I care if you like my price or not.”

“He isn’t worth it and you know it.”

“So what do you think would make him worth it?” Jackson’s smile disappeared. Yeah, that was the way to wipe good-natured off a guy’s face, through his bank account.

“I’ve been thinking of adding Cooper Quarter Horses to our breeding program. I’d like one of your fillies.” His gaze swept the field and landed on a small herd of horses. One stuck out, but it wasn’t quite what he’d planned to ask for. “And that pony.”

“You want a pony. Shoot, Wyatt, I’ll throw in the pony. We’ll have to talk about the horse, though. This bull’s daddy was Bucking Bull of the Year two years in a row. He isn’t a feedlot special.”

“Okay, let’s talk.” Wyatt let his gaze slide to where the girls were still playing with Rachel. Kat was sitting on the grass, a big old collie next to her. Molly and Rachel were spinning in circles.

They needed her. The thought settled so deep inside of him that it ached. His girls needed Rachel. Maybe more than they needed him. He couldn’t make chains with clover or even manage a decent braid in their hair.

“Do you think she’d go out with me?” Jackson walked over to the gate and tugged it open. “I mean, if you’re not interested.”

“I’m not interested.” Wyatt walked through the gate, sidestepping a little snake that slid past. “I’m not interested, but I think maybe you’re not her type. Shoot, I’m probably not her type either.”

“Yeah, well, I always had this idea that when I settle down it’d be with a woman like her, the kind that goes to church on Sundays and probably makes a mean roast.” Jackson shot him a smile. “Yeah, a guy would live right with a wife like her.”

“Right.” He’d had enough of this talk. “Let’s take a look at the pony first. How old?”

“Ten. He was my niece’s. But Tash is getting older and Greg bought her a bigger horse.”

“I don’t want to take someone’s pony.”

“He’s just eating grass and getting fat.”

Wyatt stopped in front of the paint pony. It was a pretty thing, brown and white spotted with a black mane and tail. The pony lifted its head from the clover that it was munching on and gave him a look.

“He isn’t mean?”

“Never seen him be mean.”

Wyatt knew all about horse traders and lines like that. He wasn’t about to take Jackson Cooper’s word for it. He patted the fat pony and leaned against him, holding his mane to keep him close.

“Yeah, but I want a little more reassurance than that, Jackson. This is for my kids.”

Jackson walked up and lifted a leg to settle it over the pony’s back. His normal smile had disappeared and he was all serious. “Wyatt, I might be a lot of things, but I can tell you this: I wouldn’t get a kid hurt. This pony is the safest one you’ll find. I broke him myself and I wouldn’t be afraid to let my own kids on him. If I had a kid.”

Wyatt nodded and he didn’t take his eyes off the pony. Even with part of Jackson’s weight on his back, the little pony hadn’t moved, hadn’t been distracted from the clover he was tugging at. He didn’t even startle when shouts from the gate meant that he’d been spotted by the girls.

The girls were on the gate, standing midway up, waving. Rachel stood next to them, her smile as big as theirs. He wondered if she was still dreaming of having a pony someday? He’d known girls like her his whole life. Wannabe cowgirls. He used to like them. They were fun on a Friday night at a rodeo in Tulsa. They were easy to impress and soft to hold.

That had been a lifetime and another Wyatt Johnson ago. Before. His life fell into two slots. Before Wendy, and after. The first half had been full of hope and promise. The second was about getting it back.

He was just standing there, staring, when Jackson waved them into the field. They yelled and before Rachel could open the gate, they were running toward him. The little pony looked up, watching, dark ears pricked forward. Yeah, he’d do for a first pony.

Rachel caught up with the girls halfway across the field and spoke to them. He watched them settle and reach for her hands. One on each side of her.

Jackson whistled and shook his head, laughing a little. Wyatt shot him a sideways glance and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Keep it to yourself, Jackson.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.” He wasn’t blind.

And then the girls were there, Rachel standing quietly behind them. They were all hands, reaching for the pony, saying it was the prettiest pony ever. Jackson Cooper looked as if he had created the thing himself and set it in front of them with a ribbon.

“Be careful, girls.” Rachel moved closer and her hand went out, reaching to brush through the pony’s mane.

“What do you think, girls? Would this be a good pony?” Wyatt wanted to be the hero. He’d been fighting the pony conversation for a while. They were still little, still needed to be held and couldn’t brush their teeth alone. He’d been on horses his entire life, but that was different. When it came to his girls, it was different.

Molly nodded. “This is a perfect pony named Prince.”

“Actually, his name is…” Jackson grinned. “His name is Prince.”

Rachel smiled at him. Wyatt lifted his hat and settled it back in place. “We’ll take him. And a filly.”

“Let’s talk price.” Jackson looped a bit of rope around the pony’s neck. “Can you girls lead Prince back to the barn so we can load him in the trailer?”

Molly was nodding, her hands moving in anticipation, but Jackson handed the lead rope to Rachel. Wyatt started to tell them to be careful, but he clamped his mouth shut. He hadn’t been real good at letting go lately. It wasn’t easy, letting someone else take care of Molly and Kat. It wasn’t easy watching them with someone who was not their mother.

But they needed this. They needed to let go of him once in a while.

His good intentions almost came undone when halfway to the gate Rachel stopped, picked up Molly and then Kat and placed them on the back of that pony. Kat was in front and Molly wrapped her arms around her sister. Rachel stood close to them.

“Might as well breathe and let it go, Wyatt.” Jackson laughed and slapped him on the back. “Two things are going to happen. They’re going to grow up, and that woman’s probably going to get under your skin.”

Wyatt didn’t smile. He watched as Rachel led the pony with his girls on it through the gate and then he settled his attention back on Jackson Cooper and the filly he wanted.

And he repeated to himself that Rachel Waters wasn’t going to get under his skin.

Chapter Four

Stupid moment number twelve. Or maybe twelve thousand? That’s what Rachel thought of volunteering to ride along with Wyatt and the girls to get that bull. And it was even worse standing in the shade watching Wyatt unload the pony from the trailer. He had hauled the pony and his new filly home. He’d left the bull for Jackson Cooper to trailer for him.

The girls stood next to Rachel, waiting for their dad to give the all clear. They fidgeted in one spot because they knew better than to run at the pony.

Wyatt led the filly, a dark bay two-year-old, into the barn. The horse pranced alongside him, her black tail waving like a banner. The filly dipped her head a few times and whinnied to horses in the field who answered back with shrill whinnies to the new girl in town.

Wyatt walked out of the barn a few minutes later. The filly was still inside, her shrill whinny continued. Wyatt pulled off his hat and swiped his brow with his arm. The girls were tugging on Rachel’s hands, but she didn’t let go. Somehow she managed to stand her ground.

He had told them to wait. She was more than willing to do what he asked. She was content to stay in one spot and watch as he stepped back into the trailer to retrieve the pony.

The second he stepped out of the trailer with the pony the girls started to jabber. Kat was pulling on her hand. Rachel leaned and picked the child up. When she looked up, Wyatt watched, his smile gone, his expression unreadable. He turned away and led the pony to the small corral next to the barn.

He closed the gate and tied the lead rope to the pole fence. “Come on over.”

She put down Kat and the girls ran toward him. He held up his hand and they slowed to a walk. Rachel followed because it was time to say goodbye. It had been a good day. The girls were wonderful. Wyatt was a wonderful dad who loved his daughters.

He probably thought Rachel could be a decent friend.

She’d had a lifetime of being the best friend, the girl that guys called when they wanted a pal to hang out with. Funny that when she lost weight all of those best friends started looking at her in a different way.

Wyatt untied the lead rope. “If you want to hold her, I’ll get the bridle and saddle.”

“I can do that.” So much for the quick escape. She took the rope and their fingers touched. She looked up, into dark eyes that held hers for a long moment. She looked away, back to the girls. Things that were easy.

Kat and Molly had climbed up on the bottom pole of the fence. They reached through and little fingers found the pony’s mane.

“I’ll be right back.” Wyatt glanced from her to his daughters and then he walked away, disappearing through the side door of the barn.

And she should do the same. She should tell him she had things to do today. She needed to clean her room or weed the garden. There were plenty of things she could have been doing.

It might be a good idea for her to go home and spend time in prayer.

When he came back with the tiny saddle and bridle, she opened her mouth to explain that she should go. But he smiled and she stayed.

She stayed and held the little pony as Wyatt lifted Kat and Molly onto his back. They rode double the first time, so that neither of them could say they got to ride first. Rachel stood by the gate watching as he led them around the corral. Kat was shaking the reins she held in her little hands, trying to make the pony run. Molly had her arms wrapped around her sister’s waist and her smile was huge.

Wyatt lifted Molly off the saddle and put his hat on Kat’s head. The black cowboy hat fell down over the child’s eyes. She didn’t mind. She had a pony.

Molly trudged across the arena and stopped next to Rachel. The little girl watched her sister ride the pony around the arena and as they got close, Molly started to bounce up and down.

“Might want to stand still, sweetie. We don’t want to startle the pony,” Rachel warned.

“Daddy said he didn’t think a train going through would make him scared.”

“He’s a pretty special pony.”

Molly looked up, her smile still splitting her little face. She nodded and continued to bounce as Wyatt headed their way with Kat in the saddle.

As he pulled one daughter down and lifted the other, Rachel stood close. “I should go now. Thank you for letting me go with you today.”

Wyatt took the hat off Kat’s head and placed it on Molly’s. He turned to Rachel, his smile still in place. The hair at the crown of his head was flat from wearing the hat.

“Thanks for going. Are you sure you don’t want a turn?” He teased with an Oklahoma drawl and a half smile.

“No, I think probably not. My feet would drag on the ground and the poor pony would need a chiropractor.”

“I doubt that.” He handed the reins to Molly. “Hold tight, kiddo.”

“Have fun with the pony.” Rachel leaned to kiss Kat’s cheek and she waved to Molly the cowgirl. “See you at church Wednesday.”

She turned to walk away, but Wyatt touched her arm, stopping her. She smiled because he looked as surprised as she did. His hand was still on her arm, warm and rough against her skin.

“All joking aside, I really do appreciate you going with us today. I know the girls loved having you along.”

She shrugged and his hand slid off her arm. “I enjoyed it as much as they did.”

And then she stood there, unmoving. The moment needed an escape route, the kind posted in hotel rooms. It should read: In case of emergency, exit here.

Wyatt remembered the Wednesday evening bonfire fifteen minutes before it started. He pulled into the parking lot of the church and the fire was already going, and people were gathered around in lawn chairs. He killed the engine on his truck and glanced in the backseat.

“Oh, man, we really should have done something with your hair.” But the girls’ hair had been the last thing on his mind as they rushed out the door.

He’d spent the day working the new bull, bringing it into the chute and bucking it out with a dummy on its back. He knew that it would buck, he just wanted to see for himself what they’d gotten themselves into. In the next week or two he’d take him over to Clint Cameron’s and let some of the teens that hung out over there give him a try.

But the bull aside, he’d also had to put out a fire in the kitchen. A cooking experiment had gone very wrong. Good thing he’d remembered the Wednesday evening bonfire. He smiled at the girls. Both had dirty faces, pigtails that were coming undone and boots with their shorts. He was pretty sure this was a real fashion catastrophe.

At least they were at church. He got out and opened the back door for the girls. They clambered down from the truck, jumping off the running board and then heading off to join Rachel and the other kids.

She was the pied piper of girls, big and small. Teenagers followed her around, talking as she worked. Sometimes she gave them jobs to do. As he stared she glanced quickly in his direction.

“She’s our bonus.”

He turned and Etta smiled at him.

“What does that mean?” He shoved his keys in his pocket and walked across the big lawn with Etta. He thought to offer her his arm, but she would have laughed and told him she was able to walk on her own steam.

“I mean, we got a great pastor and pastor’s wife and Rachel is the bonus. She does so much in the church. Our youth and children’s ministries have doubled. That’s why Pastor Waters is thinking of hiring a youth minister.”

“I’m not interested.”

“In Rachel you mean?” Etta smiled and headed in the other direction.

“You know what I mean.” He called out after her. She turned and waved, ornery as ever. And he loved her. He thought back to the hard times in his life. She had been there, getting him through every one of them. She’d even flown down to Florida after Wendy died. She’d stayed a month, helping with babies, helping him to breathe. “Wyatt.”

This time it was Jason Bradshaw and his wife Alyson. The happy couple headed is his direction. There was too much romance going on in this town for his comfort.

“How are you two?”

“Good. I’m glad to see you here. We’re going to have music after we eat. We can always use another guitar, if you have yours.”

“I left it here last week.” Wyatt scanned the yard for his girls.

He saw them in the playground. Molly had just gone down the slide. Kat had her arms around Rachel’s neck and was being carried to the swing.

“Then I’ll find you when we’re ready to get started.” Jason followed the direction of his gaze and smiled.

“Sounds good. I need to check on the girls.”

“Right, check on the girls.” Jason laughed and shot a pointed look in the direction of Rachel Waters.

Wyatt ignored the insinuation. He headed across the lawn toward the playground. Rachel sat on a bench, Molly in front of her. She had ponytail holders in her mouth and a brush in her hand. When he got close enough she looked up and smiled.

“Do you mind?”

He shook his head. “No.”

But he did mind. For reasons he didn’t get, he minded. It might have been about her, or about himself, maybe it was about Wendy, but he minded.

She scooted and he got that it was an offer. He could sit down and let people say what they wanted or he could walk away. And people would still talk. It wouldn’t be malicious, the talk. No, it would be pure Dawson. Everyone would be hoping to fix him.

Option one seemed like the best bet. He sat down next to her. Kat hurried to him and climbed on his lap. Her hair had already been fixed. He hadn’t noticed from across the lawn.

Molly sat quietly. She never sat that still for him. Rachel talked about their pony, talked about s’mores and ran the brush through his daughter’s tangled brown hair. When it was smooth she pulled it back, brushed it smooth again and held it tight. She had placed the ponytail holders on her wrist and she took them off, wrapping them around the ponytail, holding it firm at the crown of Molly’s head.

“There you go, sweetie.” Rachel kissed her cheek.

“You make it look easy.”

She smiled at the comment. “It takes practice. You’ll get the hang of it.”

He wasn’t so sure.

After cooking hot dogs and marshmallows in the fire, Rachel sat with the kids, making a circle around Jason, Wyatt and some others. The men started with a few praise songs and then switched to contemporary Christian music. The teens clapped and sang along.

Molly and Kat climbed into her lap, both of them snuggling close. She held them tight and pretended it didn’t hurt. But it did. The other children had gone off to their mommies.

Molly and Kat had turned to her while their daddy sang. She wrapped them in an extra blanket her own mother had brought and the two dozed in her lap. Firelight flickered. The songs were softer, sweeter. She closed her eyes and listened.

When she opened her eyes her gaze sought another, connecting, holding. Wyatt looked away first, shifting his gaze down, to the strings of his guitar.

Etta moved from her chair and joined Rachel on the ground. She lowered herself onto the blanket and reached for Kat.

“Let me help you with that little sweet thing.” Etta held the child close. “I do love these babies.”

“Me, too.” Rachel exhaled and a chill swept up her back. The night was getting cooler, the air was damp. The fire was burning out and the heat no longer reached where she sat.

“We should wrap this up.” Jason Bradshaw put his drum down and looked around. The crowd had seriously disappeared. “Wow, where’d everyone go?”

“It’s almost ten o’clock,” Alyson informed him, smiling, her eyes revealing that she adored him.

“Wow.” Jason leaned to kiss his wife.

Wyatt stood up, putting his guitar back in the case. He carried it to where she sat and leaned it against a chair. He towered over her and she breathed easier when he knelt next to them.

“Thank you for watching them for me.”

Rachel held Molly close. “They were watching me.”

“Let me get her and then I’ll come back for Kat.”

“I have an idea. You take her, I’ll take Kat from Etta and carry her over for you.”

He stared down at her and after a minute he nodded. But he had that look on his face, the same one as the other day when she’d opened the gate.

He took Molly from her arms, leaning in, his head close to Rachel’s. She waited for him to move away before she stretched her legs and then stood. Etta smiled up at her, brows arching. But she didn’t comment. Rachel loved that the other woman knew when to keep her thoughts to herself. Sometimes.

Rachel took Kat and held her in one arm. She extended her free hand and Etta took it, pulling herself to her feet.

“That ground isn’t as soft as it used to be.” Etta kissed Kat’s cheek and hugged Rachel. “See you in a few days, Rachel Lynn.”

“Let me know if you need me sooner.”

“Will do, honey.” And then Etta headed for Alyson.

Rachel headed toward the parking lot with Kat. When she reached Wyatt’s truck Molly was already buckled in and his guitar case was in the front seat. He opened the driver’s side back door and reached for Kat. His hands slid against Rachel’s arms. He caught her gaze, held it for a second and then moved away.

Rachel backed up a few steps. “They’re easy to love.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah, they are.”

She took another step back, trying not to think too much. He leaned against his truck, always the cowboy in his faded jeans and worn boots. He had on a ball cap tonight, though, no cowboy hat.

Time to make her escape.

“I’ll see you in a few days.” She backed up, tripping over the curb.

A hand shot out, grabbing her arm, steadying her. He laughed a little and winked. “You might want to work on that walking thing.”

“Yeah, I might.”

He let go of her arm. “Good night, Rachel.”

She watched him drive away and then she hurried back to the leftover embers of the fire.