The Cowboy’s Daughter

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  Sarah just shook her head. “You know how he gets. He should have gone with Janice and left Nate.”

  Thirty-two hours in the car with her father? Kelly figured Janice would drive off a cliff if she was trapped with him that long. So while he and the rest of the ranch hands rotated the cows to the next pasture, she took the liberty of using his truck to go pick up her gazebo.

  “You want to come with me?” she asked Alissa.

  They had spent time yesterday doing a puzzle and while she enjoyed playing with her daughter, her mind drifted to Trent, wondering what he was doing.

  “No. MeMaw and I are going to pick the last of the blueberries for pancakes to celebrate Aunt Emily coming home.”

  “She won’t be here until next week,” Kelly said.

  “We’ll freeze them, because they’re not going to last,” Sarah said, hugging her granddaughter to her. “I’m so happy Alissa’s here. She brightens my day. Spending time with her is a nice relief from going over the books and accounting.”

  “I’m glad, Mom.”

  There was more she wanted to say to her mother, but she didn’t know where to begin. Kelly wasn’t sure she was happy to be here. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe if she trusted her mother more, she could tell her who Alissa’s father was and her mom could suggest a way to break it gently to her father. But her mind kept going back to the night she left, when all her mother did was cry as Kelly drove off the ranch.

  On impulse, she stopped by Trent’s studio and was happy to see him there, stocking shelves with newly branded equipment. She saw that he’d set up a few training machines and she went over to one.

  “Can I try it out?” Kelly grinned.

  “Grab a glove.” Trent pointed to the pile of them. “I’ll set it up for you.” He wrapped a rope harness around it. “You ever done this before?” Pulling out a few mats, he placed them all around.

  “Does riding a barrel at my cousin’s Fourth of July party count?”

  “Close enough.”

  He helped her climb on top of it and kept his hands on her waist. She liked his hands there. “It’s tippy. You got a good seat?”

  “Um, you tell me.”

  “I think that’s a trick question, ma’am,” he drawled. “Grab the rope with your gloved hand.”

  She did.

  “Other hand up.”

  Kelly put her hand in the air.

  “You ready?”

  “I’m ready.”

  He let go of her and moved around to the back. Picking up the large lever, he pumped it slow and turned around. “Not bad. Nice technique. Let’s try a spin.” Still pushing the lever to make the seat go up and down, he walked in a circle. She bent and tried to hold on, but wound up sliding off and landing on her butt on the mat.

  “Dismount needs work, but looking good on my end.” He held out a hand to help her up.

  Part of her wanted to tug him down with her. But her things-to-do list wasn’t getting any smaller. When she got to her feet, though, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him because she could.

  It was pure pleasure to be in his arms. There was no rush. No urgency, just the sexy slide of his mouth and his hard body rubbing against her.

  “You want to go for a ride to Home Depot with me?” she asked when they came up for air.

  “And people think the magic is gone in some relationships.” Trent smiled and it did crazy things to her already rampaging libido.

  “You got that futon yet?” She might like to be talked into delaying her shopping trip for a chance to spend some alone time with him.

  “Not yet,” he drawled. “Let me lock up here and I’ll take a ride with you. Is Alissa coming with us?”

  “No, she and MeMaw have plans.”

  His smiled dimmed. “I would have liked to have spent some time together, just the three of us.”

  “It’s hard with all the work I have planned and you getting your school together.” She laid her head on his chest. “Soon. I promise. Maybe you can have dinner with us later?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “It won’t be just the three of us, but Janice won’t be there. My parents will, but my father will pretty much be a zombie. If he doesn’t fall asleep in his mashed potatoes, he’ll be snoring on the couch. He’s been working full days with the cattle and I think if his doctor found out, he’d be in big trouble.”

  “Does your dad know you have his truck?”

  “No, why?”

  “I was wondering if it would get back to him that it was parked in front of the Bluebonnet Inn.”

  She grinned at him. “I said we were going to Home Depot, not back to your hotel room.”

  He shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “I’m not sure if he’d be more pissed that it was outside your hotel room or that I went to Home Depot without him.”

  She helped Trent put the exercise mats back next to the stability balls and returned the glove while he coiled the rope back up.

  “When I was a kid, the Home Depot was a big deal,” Kelly said. “We used to go in there to get stuff that we needed to fix things on the ranch. I was in charge of the tape measure.”

  “That’s an important job,” Trent said, locking up.

  “Measure twice, cut once. Although with my dad, it was more, measure four times and curse when it still wasn’t right. It didn’t stop him from doing it all over again the next weekend. Was your dad a weekend warrior?”

  “Never met the man. I don’t even know his name.”

  Kelly winced. “Sorry, I forgot.”

  Trent shrugged and got into the truck. “Mama said he was a bullfighter, but that was about it.”

  “Does your mom still live around here?”

  “She died when I was in high school.”

  “Oh man, I’m batting a thousand on the questions today.”

  “It doesn’t bother me much anymore.”

  “Still, I can’t imagine losing my mom. She and I have had our ups and downs. It was hard to forgive her for not taking my side against my father, but in the end, I went to New York and she had to live with him afterward. So, I eventually understood.” Things were never the same though.

  “My mom was never interested in being a mom. She was a buckle bunny and during the rodeo season, I had to fend for myself or at least make myself scarce. Luckily, my best friend Pete had a big family, so they barely noticed one more kid.”

  “I’m glad you had somewhere to go.”

  “After she drank herself to death, Billy became my official guardian. We stayed at the Bluebonnet Inn for two years while I finished school and then we traveled the world. I was in Brazil for my twenty-first birthday.”

  “Do you miss traveling?”

  “Yeah, but I wish I’d explored the places I went to a little more. Most of the time, I only saw the inside of the arena and the inside of my hotel room. I’d like to go back and look around a bit, experience the culture.”

  “I haven’t been out of the U.S. One day, I’d like to take a cruise to some exotic island. Maybe when Alissa is older.”

  “Does she swim?”

  “She knows how to. I took her for lessons at the YMCA.”

  “Can she fish?”

  “Not yet. My dad will probably buy her first pole this Christmas.”

  “Not if I beat him to it.”

  Kelly groaned. “You do not want to get into a pissing match with my father.”

  “He’s going to have to play nice, or I’m not going to invite him along on the daddy daughter fishing trip.”

  “Is that right? Am I invited?”

  Trent stroked his cheek while he saucily pretended to think about the question. “Depends. Do you bait your own hook?”

  “Of course, I do. Because my daddy taught me.”

  “You can come, then.”

  “You’ve got this daddy thing all planned out,” she said lightly. She should be happy about this. So why did it feel so threateni
ng?

  “I’m beginning to see what I’ve missed out on. Pete is married with two kids. He has a job he likes and he takes care of his mom, the way she used to take care of us. Billy and I have lived out of motel rooms most of our lives. It’s going to be hard to get used to having my own place. When does the maid clean up the room?”

  “When you tell her to.” Kelly grinned. “Or you can make your own damned bed.”

  She parked the truck and they went into the store.

  “Do you have your tape measure?” he asked.

  Tapping her forehead, she grabbed a large flatbed cart. “I have it all up here.”

  “I’m glad one of us does.”

  She wheeled the cart toward the patio section of the store, refusing to be distracted by any of the sales or interesting items on the endcaps.

  “What are we here for again?” he asked, checking out a power washer.

  “Gazebo. And some white paint and a paint sprayer and brushes. Depends on the prices, though.”

  “Trent, is that you?”

  Kelly had just maneuvered the cart down the aisle, but the feminine drawl made her glance back and do a double take. Closing in on Trent was a bodacious ex-cheerleader with big hair squeezed into a tiny dress. She had a Gucci purse slung over her arm and her nails could be lethal weapons.

  “Hi,” he said, stepping back as she gave him a big hug. He twisted his face to the side so when she tried to kiss him on the mouth, she got his cheek.

  “It’s me, Darlene.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” He shot a panicked look at Kelly, but she just raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “We live a few towns over, but our store was out of stock on the gas grill we wanted. I can’t believe you’re here.” She squeezed the muscles on his arms and Kelly abandoned the cart and started walking over. “We can’t wait for the rodeo on Saturday.” Darlene gestured and a boy about seven or eight came up to him. “This is my son, Kevin. Kevin this is one of Mommy’s friends.”

  Kelly saw Trent freeze up and do mental math and come up stricken. Did he think Kevin was his son? He really didn’t know. Had there been that many women? It made her feel like she’d just been one of the crowd. Still, Kelly guessed she’d known that and it hadn’t mattered at the time. Maybe if they had tried to make it work, it would have come between them. She looked the boy over and didn’t see a resemblance, but that didn’t mean anything. How many kids could be Trent’s? How many half siblings did Alissa have? There was a sharp pain in her chest and she rubbed it, hoping it was heartburn and not heartbreak. Again.

  “Do you like rodeo?” Trent asked the boy, recovering quickly.

  Kevin nodded. “I want to be a bull rider, like my daddy.”

  Trent choked and coughed. “Who’s that?”

  Darlene laughed and patted Trent’s cheek. “My husband, John Miller.”

  Kelly saw the moment when Trent realized he was off the hook. His smile became more natural and the stiffness left his body. “I hope to see him on Saturday.”

  “He’ll be there. We’ll all be there, Trent. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Kelly slung her arm around Trent’s waist. “He’s opening up a bull-riding school at the Three Sisters Ranch.”

  “You are?” Darlene said, eyes wide. “For adults or kids?”

  “Kids, at the moment.”

  “Can I go, Mom?” Kevin said.

  “Sure. I mean I’ve got to discuss it with your daddy, but I don’t see why not.”

  “I’ve got to get some business cards made up,” Trent said. “But there will be plenty of information at the rodeo this weekend.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Darlene didn’t try for another kiss while Kelly was standing there, but she did put a little sway in her step when she walked away. Who wore heels to walk around a warehouse?

  “John Miller’s a good rider,” Trent said, sounding dazed.

  “I haven’t been watching lately.” Kelly steered him back toward the patio aisle.

  “Thanks for helping me out there. My head is not right. For a moment, I thought…”

  “Yeah, you thought Kevin was yours. Did you sleep with Darlene?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. She seems like my type.”

  Kelly pulled away from him, stung. If Darlene was his type, what did that make her? Kelly was a sturdy farm girl, who only teased her hair out for the rodeo. “You really don’t remember?”

  “Most nights, I was either drunk or on my way to getting that way. There were a lot of women at the parties and all of them were eager to go home with the bull riders and bullfighters. We had fun. We never thought of the consequences.”

  “Are you sure you don’t miss that?”

  “Not as much as I thought I would. But I do miss the rodeo. I’m looking forward to this weekend. It’ll be hard not lining up for a bull. It’s tempting to just do one last ride.”

  “What would happen if you did?”

  Trent grimaced. “A world of pain. Setbacks. Humiliation. Billy would kill me. I wouldn’t be able to ride a horse for a while, if ever. Depends on how bad I land.”

  “It’s not worth it,” she said, laying a hand on his arm until he looked at her.

  “I know,” he said. “Well, my head knows. And I’m pretty sure my leg and hip are aware of the consequences, but every now and then, I think I’ve got one more ride in me. No one likes going out a loser.”

  “You’re not a loser.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it like, the bull won and it wasn’t my choice not to try again.”

  “A concussion and a few broken bones will do that for you.”

  “You know what they say. Blood washes off. Bruises go away. Bones heal. Scars show character. Pain is temporary, but victory? That’s forever. I saw that on a T-shirt once.” He grinned at her. “It’s like poetry in the rhythm, so I remember it.”

  “Does that really work? Memorizing poetry to help with your physical therapy?”

  “It did for me. But I think it’s the message that sticks with you and the cadence of it that helps you take your mind off things. You should try it.”

  “I will, the next time a bull knocks me off.” She smiled at him and moved down the aisle, staring at the bins to find the boxes she wanted. It was a do-it-yourselfer and she was hoping that she could get some of the ranch hands to help her build it. Otherwise, it was probably going to be lopsided.

  “It works for mental therapy too. If you’re feeling anxious or worried. Memorizing a poem gives your brain something to focus on other than your problems.”

  “All the poems I know are nursery rhymes.”

  “There are lessons in them too. What type of poems does Alissa like to listen to?”

  “She likes Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein.”

  “Maybe, I could come over and read some to her?”

  Kelly nodded. “Sure, that would be great.”

  “Tonight, after dinner?”

  She took a deep breath. “I think that would be all right. Have you memorized any children’s poems?”

  “Not that I can remember, off the top of my head. Mostly it’s just lines that come back to me. Odd phrases that flit around in my head.”

  “Who’s your favorite poet?”

  “I really don’t have one. It was whoever my physical therapist put on during our workout sessions.”

  “You ever woo a woman with poetry?” She found the boxes she needed. “Here, help me with these. I need these five.”

  “No, but there were a few lines I stashed away because I thought they might get me laid someday.” He hauled one of the boxes onto the cart.

  “Hit me with one. Are you sure you’re okay with lifting these?”

  “Yeah, as long as you don’t want me to carry them around the store. Taking them off the shelf and putting them on the cart is fine.”

  “I’m waiting,” she said, as they moved on down the aisle.

  Trent took her in h
is arms. It happened so whirlwind fast that she clung to him for balance. “I burn, then freeze. Enslaved by foul caprice. And only Kelly’s arms can grant me peace.”

  She blinked up at him. “Are you shitting me?”

  “It’s iambic pentameter. Chicks dig that.”

  Kelly cocked her head at him. “Are you for real?”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” he whispered and covered her mouth with his.

  Chapter Ten

  It felt good to be back in his rodeo clothes and back in the saddle. Trent let the exhilaration of the crowd pour over him as he rode into the ring to announce the VIPs and special guests. He looked for Kelly in the stands, but only caught glimpses of her strawberry-blonde ponytail as she took pictures. Billy was handing out flyers about the rodeo school and taking down names on his clipboard.

  He hadn’t had any more time with Alissa or Kelly after that one dinner the other night. He did get to read his baby girl all the Dr. Seuss books she wanted until she fell asleep, just like her mother had. He had tucked both his girls in, giving their foreheads a kiss and then went back to his place to work.

  The organizers of the rodeo had him bustling to and from events. At his autograph signing, he was both proud and humbled by the line of people waiting for him. He posed for pictures and grinned until his face hurt. It went on for so long that his meet and greet with the press had to be cut short. As he was being led away to the next event, a reporter jockeyed in front of them.

  “Trent,” she said, handing him her business card. “I’m Lana Kirkland. I was hoping to stop by your school next week for an interview.”

  “Sounds great. Call my manager, Billy King, to set things up.” He shook her hand and when their eyes met, he felt a spark of recognition. But it was gone when his handlers jostled him away.

  “Been there. Done that.” He heard her say.

  He whirled back to find her, but she was lost in the crowd. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, drowning out the crowd. Was she another woman Billy had railroaded? So far, the private investigator Billy had hired to look in on the women who took Billy’s money hadn’t found anything that pointed to Trent being a father. One woman did have a child the right age, but she had been logged into a DNA site that searched for ancestors and family members. The detective had been able to compare Trent’s sample with the child’s and they weren’t a match.