Home with the Cowboy

by Mary Sue Jackson

  To her relief, Daniel agreed. After cooking them a dinner of steak and baked potatoes, he made up a cot for Willa in Bobby’s room. While Daniel took care of cleaning up the kitchen, Willa gave Bobby a bath and then put the toddler to bed. The little guy was so tired that he fell asleep without much resistance.

  Although Willa was grateful for that, it also meant that she had no other person between her and Daniel. Feeling awkward at being in a bachelor’s house, she stayed in Bobby’s room until she heard Daniel’s bedroom door shut. Only then did she venture out to wash her face and brush her teeth in the bathroom. She just prayed she didn’t run into Daniel while she was wearing her pajamas. That thought alone sent her scurrying back to Bobby’s room and shutting the door.

  The following morning after breakfast, Daniel informed her that a few people would be stopping by to meet Bobby. “A few people” turned into basically everyone in town showing up to see Robert Gunn’s little son, like he was some kind of holy relic they’d all crossed deserts to see.

  “Oh, he’s the spittin’ image of his daddy,” said a woman whose name Willa couldn’t remember. She was older, her accent classic Texan, and she’d brought over a casserole. The kitchen was filled with the things, and Willa didn’t think even a big man like Daniel could eat them all on his own.

  Bobby was currently engrossed with playing with his trucks. The woman knelt down to touch Bobby’s head, making Bobby start in surprise. His blue eyes widened dangerously.

  Bobby was good with strangers, but not so many at once. Willa had told Daniel after the third visitor that enough was enough, but they kept coming in droves, food in hand, bright smiles and sad eyes and loud voices exclaiming over Bobby.

  Willa herself had gotten a few remarks. When she’d said “New York,” they’d left her alone, however. Texans like these didn’t know what to say to a city girl like her.

  Bobby let out a sound that was close to a wail as the woman stood up again, her expression concerned.

  “I’m sorry,” Willa said, picking up Bobby and settling him in her lap. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Don’t apologize, sugar. Babies are always loose cannons.” The woman turned to Daniel, who had been standing nearby, overseeing the proceedings like some silent ruler. “It must be a comfort to you to have your brother’s boy with you now. He’s the last bit of family you have left, besides your uncle.”

  Daniel’s eyes creased. “A comfort, yes,” he rumbled.

  To Willa’s ears, it sounded like the opposite. A plague. Or, an annoyance.

  Willa believed that Daniel Gunn had good intentions and wanted to care for his nephew as best he could, but what if his best wasn’t good enough? She sighed inwardly, because at the end of the day, she was, in fact, nobody. She wasn’t Bobby’s family. She was just the hired help. Not to mention, she had to get back to New York.

  “I want my trucks,” said Bobby. He started to reach down, and Willa set him back onto the floor. He pushed the trucks across the rug, making the zoom-zoom noises she’d showed him months ago. When she took a truck and rolled it up his back, he burst into babyish giggles that warmed her heart.

  Her phone chirped with a text. When she saw that it was her dad texting her, she sighed and decided to ignore it.

  And then another text came. And another. She was about to put her phone on silent when she read the last text and grimaced. I know you’re ignoring me.

  She was ignoring her dad because ever since he’d found out she was back in Texas, he’d been determined to get her to stay. He’d been calling her, texting her, and bugging the hell out of her since she’d landed.

  Charles Markson had been a strict parent, a classic Texas cowboy with a heart of gold but an inability to talk about anything that rendered him vulnerable. It hadn’t helped that Willa’s mother Annabelle had died of breast cancer when Willa had barely turned six. Annabelle had been the only one to make Charles’s eyes soften, or his voice go gentle.

  But after Annabelle’s death, Charles had kept Willa close. Not only had he wanted her to be the son he’d never had, he’d wanted her to grow up to be a tried and true Texan, and to embrace her roots as much as he had.

  Except Willa had only disappointed her dad.

  She’d wanted to study art. He’d wanted her to take over the family farm. When she’d fled to New York, Willa had known it had broken her dad’s heart.

  Her phone started ringing. She grabbed it and said to Daniel, “Sorry, I need to take this. Can you watch him?”

  He raised a sardonic eyebrow as if to say, he’s my nephew, ain’t he?

  “Daddy, what is it?” she said as soon as she was around the side of the house, away from the guests who were still coming and going.

  “That’s all you have to say to me? ‘What is it?’” Her dad’s voice boomed in her ear. “Is that something city folk up north say to their folks after months of not talking to them?”

  She winced. “It hasn’t been that long.”

  “Three months, Willa Marie.” She hated when he used her middle name that way. “Three. Months. I could’ve been dead these three long months and you woulda never known, being up there in New York with your art and your trains and your lattes—” As if lattes were a bad word, somehow?

  She forced herself to speak pleasantly. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy.”

  Her dad huffed, not remotely mollified. “Too busy for your dear ole dad, huh?” She could just see him shaking his head in her mind’s eye as his voice grated in her ear, “I see how it is.”

  She didn’t have time for this conversation, even if her dad was right. She had been ignoring him. And now she was whispering into her phone, because she didn’t want people around here to know she still had family in Texas. That would be akin to admitting she had a husband and children she’d abandoned to go north, and it would make no sense to them for her to forsake the family she’d left behind in the only worthwhile state in the entire union.

  “Look, Dad, I’m only here for a little bit. For Bobby. I’m getting him situated, and then I’m going back to New York. Like I told you.”

  “Why go back? What do you have there? Not even a job now. The boy’s parents are gone.”

  Willa hissed in a breath. “Daddy! Don’t be like that.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said and added, “May God rest their souls.” He wasn’t done. “But you know as well as I do that you’ve been frittering away your time up there. Babysitting somebody’s kid, and for what? You can babysit kids here in Macon and actually afford an apartment on that money, too.”

  Willa heard the front door open, and she hoped that Bobby wouldn’t start crying at the next guest’s appearance. Daniel would have a heart attack. Then again, the thought of seeing the handsome cowboy flustered by a boy not even taller than his knee made her smile in amusement. Men were so big and strong—until you made them take care of a baby.

  “I actually have a job interview for a very prestigious art gallery,” she said. She hadn’t intended to tell her dad about the interview unless she got the job, but she needed leverage.

  “That ain’t a real job. You know that. A real job is where you get your hands dirty, where you work the land—”

  Her ears pricked when she heard a high-pitched wail coming from the house. That would be Bobby. “Daddy, I gotta go. I’ll call you later, okay? When I’m back in New York.”

  She hung up and shoved her phone in her pocket before her dad could scold her further. Rushing inside, she winced as Bobby’s screams grew louder. The little boy’s face was bright red.

  Daniel had picked him up and was trying to soothe him, but Bobby kept trying to wrench himself away from this man who was little more than a stranger. An older man sat on the sofa, drinking sweet tea and studiously avoiding looking at Daniel trying to keep his nephew from melting down.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll take him,” Willa said, coming up to them. Bobby’s screams didn’t stop as he thrust his arms desperately in her direction.<
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  Daniel handed her the toddler as if Bobby was a live grenade about to go off. “Thank Christ,” he muttered.

  Willa lifted the toddler so that they were staring eye to eye, to reassure him she was the one holding him now, and the screams waned slightly, though they didn’t stop. She pulled him against her chest and shoulder, then, letting him bury his wet face in her neck, and murmured, “Come on, Bobby, it’s time for your nap. You’re exhausted.”

  She rubbed his back in small circles as she took him to his room. Bobby cried harder when she placed him in his crib, but after she’d rubbed his back a bit longer, soothing him in a quiet voice, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  Willa breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes Bobby fought his naptime tooth and nail, but he was so exhausted from all of the activity and people today that he conked out within moments.

  Returning to the living room, she heard Daniel saying, “She’s from Texas, actually. She just lives in New York. Yeah, has family here, too.”

  She stilled, listening, wondering who Daniel was talking about, only to hear the man on the sofa say, “Oh, really? Well, that changes everything. I knew you couldn’t trust somebody up north to know how to take care of a kid.”

  Willa scowled. She hadn’t told Daniel that she had family here in Texas still, and what was he doing going around telling people she was from here? She wasn’t from here. She’d told him as much herself.

  She remembered hearing the front door open when she’d been on the phone. Had Daniel overheard her talking to her dad? He hadn’t had any right to eavesdrop on her conversations!

  She came into the living room and glared at Daniel.

  Seeing her expression, Daniel didn’t react, except to raise a single brow in question.

  She could confront him, tell him he was wrong, but then she’d just look like a crazy person. Gritting her teeth, she pasted on a smile and let herself be introduced to the man on the sofa, knowing he’d tell the whole town that Willa was from Texas and that her daddy lived here, faster than a duck on a June bug.

  Five

  It was a beautiful summer day—the sky bright blue, the breeze blowing—and Willa had practically shoved Bobby into Daniel’s arms after breakfast. “Time to get to know your nephew,” she’d said with a bright smile. “No time like the present! I’ve got a few things I need to take care of, calls to make, you know.” Of course. He was going to have to jump in the water hole and swim some time or other.

  Daniel decided he’d take Bobby along to show him what he did for a living. Of course, the little cowpoke wasn’t old enough to understand, but it was important that Bobby should come to know where his own daddy came from.

  Willa had shown Daniel and Uncle James enough of how to care for Bobby—bedtime routine, bath time, changing diapers, toys, books, food, so much information it made Daniel’s head spin—that Daniel had felt confident she didn’t need to spend the entire day with them today.

  This morning, Daniel had risen to the sound of Bobby talking, and after a diaper change and breakfast, Daniel had found the little cowboy hat that had been Robert’s and had settled it on Bobby’s head.

  Now Bobby kept taking the hat off as they walked to the edge of the nearest field. When Bobby dropped the hat in the dirt, Daniel picked it up, trying not to get annoyed with his nephew. He was only two. He didn’t know that this hat was important.

  “Now Bobby, you see those trees out there? That’s the edge of this property. Your daddy and I would climb those trees when we were hardly older than you. We’d play in the creek, too, fishing for crawdads and taking ’em home to eat that night. Your grandma would fry them up something special.”

  “C’awdad,” repeated Bobby. A cow mooed nearby, and he yelled, “That’s a hoss!”

  Daniel laughed. “Close. That’s a cow.”

  “Cow. Cows smell bad.”

  “That’s definitely true, son. They aren’t known for smelling pretty.”

  They didn’t smell pretty, the way Willa did; she smelled like roses. Daniel didn’t know what kind of fancy soap or perfume she used, but every time she was near, he inhaled that scent, and he wanted to get closer to her. He wanted to bury his nose in her dark curly hair, feel the silken tendrils, wrap them around his hand—

  Stop that, he told himself. Stop daydreaming about the damn babysitter.

  He checked his watch. Normally, he’d already be done with fixing these irrigation pipes, but with Bobby, his usual schedule had gone to hell in a handbasket.

  “Come on, let’s get a’movin’. We got chores to do.”

  He checked the area for fire ants, scorpions, and snakes before sitting the little boy down, conveniently near but not underfoot. Bobby sat in the grass as Daniel worked, content to rip up the grass and laugh at grasshoppers darting around him. Daniel placed the cowboy hat on Bobby’s head, but the toddler just frowned and tore the hat off his head with a grimace.

  “No,” said Bobby. “No, no, no.”

  A woman laughed, and Daniel looked up to see Willa walking toward them. “That’s his favorite word,” she said with a bright smile. “In case you haven’t figured it out by now.”

  “Oh, I’ve gotten well acquainted with his love for that word,” he said wryly.

  “Nooooo,” repeated Bobby as he tossed the hat away.

  Daniel frowned as he picked up the offending piece of headgear, wiping off the dirt with his sleeve.

  Willa grimaced. “I’m sorry. That’s a real Stetson, isn’t it? I’d recognize it anywhere.” She took the hat and crouched in front of Bobby. “You need to keep the sun off your head, buddy. Why don’t you keep this on? For me? And for your Uncle Daniel?” She placed the hat on Bobby’s head.

  Instead of flinging it off, the toddler squinted up at the brim as if he were considering obeying. Then, three seconds later, he tore the hat off with an annoyed cry. “Don’t want it! No!” Bobby’s face turned bright red as he slapped his hands against the ground.

  Daniel braced himself for a tantrum, but luckily, a grasshopper flew by and effectively distracted Bobby for the time being.

  “Yeah, this isn’t going to happen today. We’ll try again some other time.” Willa glanced around the field. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

  “I’m fixing some pipes.” Daniel glanced at his watch again. “I’m totally running behind on doing it. I know you said you had some things to do, calls to make, but can you watch him now that you’re here?” To his relief, she nodded with an easy smile. Maybe her calls had gone well. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

  So much for teaching Bobby how the farm worked, Daniel thought as he worked in the ditch, patching the pipe that had been leaking lately. As he worked, he watched Willa and Bobby from the corner of his eye. Willa pulled out a tube of what looked like sunscreen, and she rubbed it all over Bobby until he started to protest.

  Of course, sunscreen. Why hadn’t Daniel thought of that? That baby’s skin was whiter than Willa’s, and she was pretty fair-skinned. Bobby would burn to a crisp in this hot Texas sun. But Daniel, who was the color of a horse’s saddle, hadn’t worn sunscreen since he’d been Bobby’s age, if ever.

  I need to start thinking about people other than myself, he told himself as he worked, sweat dripping down his forehead as the day got hotter. It wasn’t even midday, and it was already sweltering.

  Most people hated the Texas heat, but not Daniel. He loved it. He loved how the sun beat down on his head, how the heat shimmered across the horizon. How there was nothing bluer than a summer sky in the heart of Texas, and nothing more satisfying than taking care of this land that was in his blood, like nothing else.

  When he finished working, he looked up to see Willa standing with Bobby on her hip, her hand shading her eyes. She nodded when their gazes met and said, “We’re going inside. It’s too hot out here. Will you be done soon? Because I have to go and get some more work done.”

  Daniel wanted to ask what work she could possibly need to d
o that was more important than looking after her charge, but he bit his tongue. Maybe the heat was actually getting to him today.

  He looked at the time and scowled. He was way off schedule. He needed to take care of the animals, and they’d already been waiting for too long. “I need you to stay a little longer. I’d planned to keep Bobby with me, but you’re right, it’s too hot, and he’s not used to this kind of weather,” he said.

  “I can’t manage more than half an hour.” At Daniel’s scowl, she lifted her chin. “Remember, I came to bring you Bobby, not to be your babysitter.”

  She was right, dammit, and Daniel had nothing to say to that. “One hour,” he said. At her protest, he added, “Please. Just this once.”

  Willa sighed, but he saw her nod, and then she picked up Bobby’s hat and made her way across the field and into the house. Daniel hurried through cleaning the stables and feeding his horses, prior to turning them out to graze, surly that his usual schedule was thrown off course so easily. How the hell was he going to take care of this farm and a little boy? He’d stupidly thought Bobby could just fit into his schedule, as if the little boy were a new cow. Or something.

  As he reached her stall, his favorite mare Magnolia was waiting for him, vigorously nodding her head and whickering in greeting. She pushed her face against his chest, campaigning for the pieces of carrot that he invariably carried in a pocket. Daniel snorted as he patted her silky nose. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

  Magnolia nodded again, making Daniel laugh.

  It was to be his last laugh for a while. By the time Daniel came back to the farmhouse, Willa was madder than a wet hen.

  “It’s been almost three hours! You said one!” she hissed. “I’m not your employee you can order around, Mr. Gunn!”

  He needed a drink of water. Maybe something stronger. He ran his hand over the back of his head. “Sorry. Things took longer than expected. What more do you want?”