“Dad.”
“Just wait till you’re a father, Dev. You’ll see.”
Bernadette shook her head.
Only then did Holden realize he needed to add a caveat. “Not that you should have kids until you’re done with medical school, son. You should give yourself a chance to live a little first. Get some life experience. It’ll make you a better doctor.”
That earned him head shakes from both Dev and Bernadette.
“Oh, you both know it’s good advice.” That was Holden’s go-to: solid, practical advice. “Don’t make the mistake I did.”
“Which time?” Devin murmured, refusing to meet Holden’s gaze.
A truck rumbled over the crest of the hill and approached. It was driven by a familiar face.
Tom climbed out, along with three other men. “Sorry for the late hour. I had to finish my tow-truck shift.”
The crew spent the next three hours working chain saws and rolling or dragging portions of the fallen tree off the road to be chopped into firewood over the weekend. They didn’t finish until well into the dinner hour. Watching from inside the motor home, the trio of travelers decided it would be better to leave for Yellowstone in the morning.
“I have to hand it to Myrna,” Holden said to Bernadette and Devin as they sat around the campfire that night. “She knows how to keep profits in the family.”
“You used to say that about the Monroes, Dad.” Devin roasted a marshmallow too close to the flame. “You used to tell me I could do anything within the Monroe conglomerate of companies—from working on a movie set to an oil field in Texas to a shipyard in Philadelphia.” He pitched his voice low and serious, as if copying someone’s tone... Holden’s?
Did he sound like that to his son? Like a stuffed shirt?
“I should have had you spend more time in Texas,” Holden said slowly, still smarting from Devin’s impersonation of him. “I thought you’d make a great mechanical engineer. A future oil man.”
“Dad, let Uncle Bo find a new way to harness the earth’s energy.” Devin gave Holden an are you serious look before giving his head a little shake. “You should see Dad in Texas, Dr. Carlisle.” Devin’s marshmallow flamed like a torch and dropped into the fire. Nonplussed, Devin took another one out of the bag. “You wouldn’t recognize him once he gets his cowboy on. He even drawls.”
Holden smiled. “When I was a kid, we’d spend most summers on the ranch. Esteban, our ranch foreman, wouldn’t let us roam the property without boots and a hat.”
“Which you always put on as soon as we land in Texas.” Devin wasn’t paying attention to the status of his marshmallow, which was once more in danger of catching fire.
Holden gave his roasting fork a lift. “Guilty as charged.”
“Wait.” Bernadette sat up in her chair and gave Holden a slow once-over. The blue-checked blanket he’d put over her fell to her lap. “Are you telling me that you’re a cowboy?”
“I know plenty of cowboys who’d laugh me out of the room at that label, my brother Bo, for one.” He lived in Texas full-time. Holden rubbed a hand over his thick hair, thinking about the cowboy hat and boots he’d packed when he’d decided to book a few trail rides in Yellowstone. “But since Texas is my second home, it’d be a crime if I couldn’t saddle, brand and ride with some skill. And honestly... There’s something about slipping into a pair of well-worn boots and blue jeans that makes me feel...”
“Relaxed?” Bernadette hadn’t stopped staring at him. “Maybe that’s a way to get rid of those elephants.”
“What elephants?” Devin’s marshmallow descended into the flames.
“You mean walk around like a Texan? As a way to chill out?” Holden scoffed and took the roasting fork from his son.
“What are you afraid of?” Bernadette challenged but with a caring look in her eye.
“Elephants?” Devin handed Holden the bag of marshmallows. “Seriously, I’m lost. This is like hearing a comment from the adult table when I’m sitting with the kids. Can someone explain this to me?”
While Bernadette told Devin about the elephant metaphor Holden was using to describe the warning symptoms of anxiety, Holden drew a deep breath, thinking about how comfortable his broken-in cowboy boots were. His chest didn’t tighten. It didn’t feel as if he was being trampled by a herd of determined elephants. Was there something to this?
Bernadette’s red cowboy boots caught his eye. “At least I have the credentials to back up wearing boots.” And his weren’t bright red.
She extended one leg, admiring her footwear. “Red was my dad’s favorite color. He had some hard battles against cancer when I was in high school.” She lowered her foot and rearranged the blanket, tucking her hands beneath the soft edges. “When prom season rolled around during my senior year, I wasn’t going to go. It was a hard balance for me between being strong for Dad and the family and putting my all into my schoolwork to qualify for scholarship money.”
Holden set the roasting fork down, wanting to hear this tidbit of a memory, knowing somehow that it was an important piece of Bernadette’s personality.
“Prom night came, and I was sitting with my dad watching a baseball game.” She snuggled deeper beneath that blanket, staring into the fire. “The rest of my family came in and made a circle around us, like they were doing some kind of intervention. Mom held a prom dress. My brother Marcus had bought me a ticket to prom. My brother Lionel had arranged for one of his football buddies to be my date. Calvin had a corsage. And Dad...” She blinked back tears. “Dad had them buy me a pair of red heels. He said anytime I saw something I liked, and it came in a red color, to think of him.”
“A nerd intervention,” Devin murmured, half smiling.
“You were wearing red heels on our first date,” Holden said softly, reaching for the knot of blanket covering her hands.
“And you were wearing a red button-down.” Bernadette was still blinking those watery eyes. “I thought Dad would approve.”
Holden drew his hand back because things hadn’t worked out between them in a way her father would approve of. Of that Holden was certain.
“That’s why I bought the boots,” Bernadette said. “I needed a pair of shoes, and the only other option was pink flip-flops. Thank you for those, by the way.” She gave Holden a small smile.
“What’s your favorite color, Dad?” Devin stared up at the sky, which was clear tonight and filled with stars.
But none of them shone as bright for Holden as Bernadette.
“He’d never admit it, but his favorite color is black,” Bernadette answered for Holden.
“I don’t think you’re allowed to pick black as a favorite color.” Devin nudged Holden’s knee with his hand. “Dad, are you listening? I asked what your favorite color is.”
“I don’t have one.” But if he did, he thought it might be red.
CHAPTER NINE
NO STRONG HAND reached for Devin when he went to the campground restroom before turning in.
No warm hand covered his mouth when he came out.
He lingered at the entrance, listening to the soft sound of Dad and Dr. Carlisle’s voices twining with the gurgle of the Salmon River’s passing. Still no Frankie.
The smart thing to do would be to return to the motor home and be glad that he’d avoided a second night of purple-haired embarrassment. After all, it was hard to come back, egowise, when you’d backpedaled from a girl trying to kiss you. That was so sixth-grade. And Devin was a college man.
It was hard to wear the so-called mantle of maturity when he’d avoided Frankie all day, rehearsing conversations and apologies in his head.
If he’d learned anything from the past few days with his dad, it was that you couldn’t shirk from the hard conversations.
And so, he crept up the road instead of returning to the motor home and headed for the barn, where the
re was a light on.
Frankie was inside cleaning a saddle with a soapy sponge, a blue beanie pulled over her cap of purple hair. She didn’t look up when Devin entered. So he had a couple of seconds to look at her, during which time he noticed that she was thinner than he’d first realized. Like, maybe eating disorder thin. But despite being slender as a reed, she had an energy about her.
Or maybe she was just angry at having to clean saddles. It looked like she’d just started. There were two others on nearby saddle racks.
“Hey,” Dev said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his khakis.
“Hey.” Frankie set down the sponge and picked up a damp towel, swiping at the leather vigorously.
Shortcake poked his head out of his stall and gave Devin a head toss, which seemed to be the equivalent of Hey, brah. How’s it hangin’?
At least someone was happy to see him.
“I’m kinda busy right now,” Frankie said without looking up. The vibe she was giving off was that of a slammed door. Her features were pinched closed.
A smarter guy would have turned on his heel and left.
Devin came forward and picked up a sponge, wrung it out and then started on the next saddle. It wasn’t just Dad who’d spent time on the family ranch in Texas. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for last night.”
“For what?” Frankie kept her head down so that he couldn’t see her face. “I’m the one who tried to jump your bones.”
“I just... I didn’t... I...” Devin swallowed, working his dry throat. What was the use of practicing what to say when you couldn’t get the words out in real time? “Girls don’t usually do that to me, and I didn’t know how to react, okay?”
“Great.” She straightened, meeting his gaze tentatively. “On top of everything else, you didn’t want to kiss me.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I...” She’d invited him to have trouble last night, hadn’t she? He was horrible with girls. His cheeks were burning, and he wanted to run back outside.
You’re a Monroe. Act like one. That was his father’s voice in his head, and for once, Devin didn’t resent it.
Frankie swiped at her forehead with the back of her hand. “You can try to make me feel good, but I practically initiated an inappropriate touch.”
“You didn’t touch me.” He’d fallen off that hay bale before she could. “And you’re using all the words they teach us at school.” Suddenly, Devin didn’t want to run away. “Why?”
She looked like a trapped rabbit, which was odd since normally she looked like a she-wolf about to snap. “You should go. I’m a bad influence. And I have a lot to do.”
“You’re not a bad influence.” He tapped his thumb against his chest, leaving a soapy mark. He soldiered on anyway. “I should know. I’m the King of all Nerds. If you broke the law, I’d tell you.”
They stood staring at each other in silence for a moment. And in that silence, strange things began to happen. His heart pounded like a fist against the wall of his chest. His hands felt clammy, soapy sponge notwithstanding. And he wanted to sink into her eyes and know what she was thinking. It was an odd feeling—impossible unless you believed in magic and fairy tales.
Frankie broke ranks first, looking at her cowboy boots. “Won’t your parents miss you?”
An image of Dad and Dr. Carlisle sitting side by side in front of the fire came to mind. Despite the rocky start, there was something about the couple that made sense.
Devin grinned. “I sincerely hope they don’t miss me.” Because Dad needed time to win Dr. Carlisle back.
He explained the odd situation, adding, “My dad thinks he’s cool, but he’s a hot mess.”
“That sucks.” But Frankie had brightened during his speech, perhaps because the focus was off her trying to kiss him, which Devin was totally fine with now that he knew it might happen.
“Actually, my dad is okay sometimes.” Like today when he was kicking back with Dr. Carlisle instead of trying to keep to some insane schedule. “I can help you finish the tack, and then maybe we could...” His cheeks heated, and words he’d practiced like we could make out escaped him.
“Lock up,” Frankie said firmly, back to the motorcycle badass. “You can help me finish, and then we’ll say good-night.”
Devin was both relieved and disappointed.
Girls! He couldn’t figure them out.
* * *
“DO YOU BELIEVE in signs?” Bernadette asked Holden.
They sat staring into the fire, conversation having died away several minutes before.
“You mean like seeing the color red and thinking that your father is sending you a message?” Holden stood, moved his chair next to hers and then sat back down. “Yes.”
“Yes?” Bernadette drew back, not because Holden was close enough to make a move—which made her think of long, slow kisses and strong arms wrapped around her—but because his answer was so surprising. “I didn’t expect you to say that. You’re so practical that I wouldn’t think you’d be open to signs.”
“Do you know what today was like for me?”
“Torture? You had all these plans for Yellowstone and memories, and you were trapped by Mother Nature.” And yet, he’d patiently cared for her and had never complained about being stuck. How unlike Holden.
“Today was a gift. You needed me, and I was there for you.” He uncovered her hand from beneath the blanket and twined his fingers with hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
How could she not hang on to his words? To his hand? And, dare she hope, to his heart?
“And Dev actually sat with us today.” Holden chuckled. “He was out of reading material, but still.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the campground’s restroom. “How long has he been gone?”
“He snuck past us about, oh, twenty minutes ago.”
“And you didn’t say anything? He’s in the woods in the dark.” Holden made as if to stand.
Bernadette tugged him back down. “He’s about to go off to college, and he went to see Frankie at the barn.” She wasn’t entirely sure of that. “At least, that’s what I assume. Don’t you agree?”
“That girl.” Holden brought Bernadette’s hand over his heart. “She’s not his type.”
“Considering this is the first time he’s shown interest in a girl, I don’t think you can judge who his type is. When you look at us, I’m not your type. Far from it.”
Before she knew what was happening, Holden had drawn her into his lap. “Who says you aren’t my type?”
“I’m not your—”
He kissed her.
I missed this.
All too soon, he ended the kiss. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
“I’m not your—”
He kissed her again. This time for just a little longer. “You always put the needs of others before your own.”
“But I’m not your—”
He kissed her a third time. And this time, her arms ended up around his neck, and one kiss led to another. And another.
He ended a kiss and tucked her under his stubbled chin. “I wouldn’t have flown halfway across America if I didn’t enjoy your company. But—”
Bernadette sat up and kissed him. She wasn’t interested in hearing why they couldn’t be together. And she had no illusions about these kisses having any significance when it came to a relationship with Holden. They were just kisses. Hot kisses on a cold mountain night. Nothing more.
But could they last a bit longer?
“I guess I came back too soon.” Devin opened the motor home door.
Bernadette hadn’t heard him walk up. She sat up, pressing Holden’s shoulders back, needing that distance. “Everything okay with Frankie?”
“Yeah. She finished her chores.” Devin began to ascend the stairs.
“Wait, Dev.” Holde
n claimed Bernadette’s hands. “You should hear this.”
Devin turned, leaning out the open door. “What?”
The skin on the back of Bernadette’s neck prickled. She had no idea what Holden was going to say, but she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like whatever it was.
Holden waited until she looked into his beautiful gray eyes to speak. “Dr. Bernadette Carlisle, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” The lips that had just thoroughly kissed her curved up in a triumphant smile.
He thought... He assumed...
“Why?” she asked breathlessly, torn between hope and despair.
Holden frowned. “Because I can take care of you if we’re married.” He made no mention of love.
“No.” Bernadette got to her feet, fighting the wave of dizziness that spiraled into a crashing wave of nausea.
“Why not?” He hadn’t let go of her hands.
“Dad, even I know the answer to that question.” Devin closed the motor-home door and began turning on the lights inside.
Bernadette slipped one hand free and took a step toward the vehicle.
Holden held on, gently but firmly. “Where are you going? We need to talk.”
Oh, he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.
“Baby’s got a curfew.” She patted her abdomen with her free hand. “Today has been lovely, but tomorrow I should head back to reality and Second Chance.”
Holden was slow to release her hand. And he didn’t follow her inside.
* * *
“DAD,” DEVIN WHISPERED when Holden finally came inside the motor home. “You’re blowing it.”
It was on the tip of Holden’s tongue to tell his son he didn’t need love advice from a teenager.
But the reality was that he did. “Yeah, I blew it big time.” Holden had spent too many years keeping his heart under lock and key. He’d shown Bernadette he cared for her all day. Why did she need to hear he’d put a label on his feelings? Love wasn’t a legally binding contract.
“If you’re going to lose sleep over this mind-blowing moment of honesty...” Dev yawned “...you could be nicer to people, too.”
Caught by the Cowboy Dad Page 11
