Falling for the Cowboy Dad

by Patricia Johns

“I would have written a whole letter, but there’s no space,” Poppy said.

  “Here.” Grace grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. “Do you want to try on this?”

  “Okay...” Poppy settled down at a table. She’d written him a few stories over the last few days—but whether she could actually spell and all that, he had no idea. For as long as Billy could remember, whenever he looked at a page of writing, the letters just jumbled together without meaning. They got mixed up between the page and his head. There’d been a good reason he’d dropped out of school in the tenth grade—he couldn’t fake it any longer.

  “So, how much can she do, exactly?” Grace asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Billy said with a faint shrug. “I don’t even know where to start. I was hoping you’d have an idea.”

  “Does she just have an interest in certain words, and you’ve shown her how to spell them, or is this something more? Do you read to her?”

  “No, I don’t read to her a lot,” he confessed. Not at all, more truthfully.

  “Is she reading on her own?”

  “She reads anything she can get her hands on, from the microwave instruction manual to the cereal boxes.”

  “Well, there are several tests I can give to find out her reading levels. What’s she like with numbers and math?”

  “She corrected the cashier at the grocery store the other day,” he said.

  “And she’s four, you say?”

  “Four,” he confirmed.

  “Wow.” She shook her head. “That’s something. You’re going to have your hands full, Billy. The smarter they are, the more demanding they are. They don’t know how to satisfy their own intellectual curiosity yet, and they wait for adults to provide it.”

  “Great.” Billy scraped a hand through his hair. That was going to be a problem, because he wasn’t going to be much use to the kid, unless he could show her how to fix an engine or ride a horse. He’d tried reading her a book the other day, just making up the story as he went along. He thought he was telling a pretty good one, but Poppy got furious with him for “messing up all the words.” She wanted accuracy, and he couldn’t give that.

  “Daddy, how you spell extra special beautiful?” Poppy asked from her seat at the little table.

  “Just do your best,” Grace said. “Let’s see if you can get close on your own, okay? I don’t mind if you spell stuff wrong. It’s the trying that counts.”

  That was a good answer—he’d have to remember that one. So far, Poppy didn’t know how limited his own education had been, and he wanted to keep it that way. No man wanted to give up hero status in his own child’s eyes.

  “Sorry,” Grace said with a bashful look. “I’m curious to see what she can do when you don’t help her. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” he said. The truth was, he’d hidden his reading problem from Grace, too, and he wasn’t in any rush to fess up.

  “Does she get this from your side of the family?” Grace asked with an impish smile.

  Billy barked out a laugh. “Now you’re just being mean. And unless Carol-Ann was hiding some genius, I have no idea where that little brain cropped up.”

  “Her mom... Carol-Ann never mentioned it when she dropped her off?” Grace pressed.

  “Nope. I have to say, I had more immediate questions than how well she read.”

  He could still remember that last goodbye between mother and daughter. Seeing the shock and heartbreak in his daughter’s big blue eyes had shredded his heart, and he didn’t even know Poppy yet. Carol-Ann had promised that she’d be back, but Billy had seen the lie in Carol-Ann’s eyes. Was she telling the truth about Germany, or was she just walking away from her responsibilities?

  Billy had been raised by an uninterested mother, so maybe he and Poppy had a few things in common. But he was determined he’d be the parent Poppy could count on for the rest of her life. No more betrayals. No more people she loved walking out on her. Billy was the end of the line here—and he’d be the superhero she needed to feel safe, whatever the cost.

  “I’m done!” Poppy hopped up from her seat and brought the page over to Billy. He looked over it, pausing for the amount of time it seemed to take other people read a page of print, then passed it to Grace.

  She took it from his hands, her soft fingers brushing his.

  “This is very sweet,” Grace said, then nudged Billy’s arm. “Isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a curt nod. “Sure is.”

  He wished he could take it home and spend some time poring over it. Sometimes he could sort out the short words. Poppy had filled the page with her diagonally slanted lines of printing, and he wished he knew what she’d so lovingly put onto that page.

  “Do you mind if I hold on to this?” Grace asked. “I’d like to show Mrs. Mackel.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, pulling his eyes off the page, trying to push away that welling sense of disappointment. This was a good thing—Grace would show the principal, and the school would know just how smart his little girl was. Then they could give her that much-needed challenge that he didn’t know how to provide.

  “Thank you.” Grace shook her head and shot him a grin. “She sure loves you, doesn’t she?”

  What had Poppy written?

  “I hope so,” he said uncertainly.

  “Well, I think we can see how much she does,” Grace said, tapping the paper on her hand. “Poppy, this is really well done. I think you’re going to have a lot of fun in our classroom. Are you looking forward to meeting the other kids?”

  Poppy squirmed, glanced around the room and then cast Billy an anxious frown. “I want to stay with Daddy...”

  Billy squatted down next to her and looked into those worried little eyes. She’d had her mom walk out on her recently. And then she’d watched a big fight between Billy and Tracy, and Tracy had packed her bags... It was no wonder she was anxious. Let alone the fact he was virtually a stranger.

  “You’re worried I’ll leave and not come back,” he said frankly.

  Poppy froze, eyed him for a moment, then nodded slowly.

  “Thing is, Poppy,” he said quietly. “I’m your daddy. I didn’t know about you before this, but now that I do, you don’t have to worry about me taking off. I’m here to stay. I’ll always pick you up after school, and I’ll make you your supper, and I’ll tuck you into bed, and I’ll probably always read the stories wrong, too. You can count on all of that.”

  “You mess up the words,” Poppy whispered.

  Billy chuckled and gathered her into his arms. She was as light and ferocious as a cat, and she inspired a protective surge inside him every time he looked at her. She was his.

  “Do I?” he joked. “Well, I think my way is better.”

  “It’s not,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “Still—I’m the one guy you can trust to never tell you a lie, okay? And I’ll always pick you up after school. That’s a promise.”

  Poppy was silent for a moment, and Billy stood up, lifting her with him. She was holding on to his shirt in one little fist. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other. He caught a mist of emotion in Grace’s eyes as she watched them.

  Grace...beautiful and smart, and always several levels above the likes of him. He’d known that from the start. Her dad was a doctor; her mom was an accountant. She’d been raised to expect the best out of life, and Billy had known from the start that he was a far cry from what Grace deserved. Hell, Poppy deserved more than he could offer, too, but that was life. Sometimes you got the short end of the stick. Right now, his deepest wish was to maintain whatever respect Grace still had for him, and hopefully both Grace and Poppy could stay in the dark about his limitations.

  “We should probably head out,” Billy said. “I think Poppy and I could use an ice cream.”

  Poppy’s eyes
lit up. This kid was easily bought, and that was a good thing. He needed every brownie point he could get.

  “Thank you for coming by,” Grace said, and her gaze caught his for a moment.

  “Grace...” He paused in the doorway. “It’s really good to see you again.”

  It was more than “good”; it was a strange relief, like coming home in a whole new way. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed her over the last few years. She’d been an anchor in his life when he’d needed it most, and it looked like he was going to need her again. She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze, breaking the moment between them.

  Maybe she hadn’t missed him...

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, Poppy,” Grace said.

  Billy dropped his cowboy hat back on his head, and he headed out into those familiar old Eagle’s Rest Elementary School hallways. Hopefully this school would do better by his daughter than it ever did by him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  GRACE PARKED HER car behind her mother’s SUV and turned off the engine. Coming back to Eagle’s Rest had been filled with reconnections, but meeting up with Billy was different. Billy was supposed to be safely out of the picture. She wanted to smooth layer after layer of life over the hole he’d left in her heart. He belonged to the past. Her mind was still spinning, and her emotions hadn’t caught up.

  “Just over two weeks left...” she murmured. And while before that had meant relief at getting back to her apartment in the city again—the quiet, her own routines—now it was taking on a whole new urgency. It had felt good to see Billy again—too good. And she’d come too far to let herself slip into that place where she didn’t feel pretty enough or interesting enough to capture the heart of the one man she loved. Not again!

  Grace got out of her car, slamming the door behind her, and headed toward the side door. Someone had thrown down some salt, but the driveway and sidewalk were still slick. She could smell something cooking as she opened the door...but it wasn’t the same, familiar smell of cooking from her childhood. This was different, and had been ever since her mother had retired.

  “You’re home,” her mother said as Grace came inside and stepped out of her boots.

  Connie Beverly was a short, round woman with eyes that crinkled up and sparkled when she smiled. She wore a loose sweater over a pair of leggings, an apron tied around her ample waist and a pair of slippers. She stood by the counter with a potato masher held aloft.

  “Smell this,” her mother demanded. “Seriously. Smell it.”

  “I can smell it,” Grace chuckled, slipping off her coat. “That’s not mashed potatoes.”

  “You’re just being a cynic now!” Connie retorted, turning back to the bowl. “It’s almost like mashed potatoes.”

  Grace winced. Her mother had been saying for years that she didn’t lose weight because she worked full-time and she was too busy to bother. But this year, she’d retired and sworn that she would drop the extra weight.

  Grace went over to the counter and looked down into the bowl.

  “Mom, cauliflower isn’t a carb,” she said.

  “That’s the point. You smash the cauliflower up to look like mashed potatoes, and you don’t miss the extra calories.”

  “It looks like sadness to me.” And it smelled like boiled cauliflower.

  “It looks like health and longevity.” Connie smiled in satisfaction and turned back to her cautious mashing. “You should give this a try, Gracie. Our genes being what they are—”

  “Mom, please...”

  It was an old conversation. They came from a long line of “big-boned” women who never had any trouble finding husbands, and whose love language was cooking. Grace had never been thin, and neither had her mom. It was easy enough to love herself, but a little harder to compete with the likes of Tracy. There were times she wished she could be naturally slender.

  “You’re turning thirty next week,” her mother reminded her.

  “I know,” Grace replied with a grin. “And I’ll turn thirty with real carbs, thank you very much.”

  “Well... I’ll agree to that,” her mother replied. “What’s birthday cake if it isn’t sinful, right? So, how was your day?”

  “Good,” Grace replied, and she flicked the switch on the electric kettle. “Actually, this afternoon, I saw Billy Austin.”

  “Billy Austin?” Carol turned from the sodden cauliflower and frowned. “He’s back in town? Did you see Tracy?”

  “Tracy wasn’t with him. They broke up.”

  “Ah.” Her mother’s eyebrows climbed, and then she nodded. “What’s he doing back in Eagle’s Rest?”

  “He found out he had a daughter, and the mother had some modeling plans in Germany, so she dumped the little girl on his doorstep. Tracy took a big step back, and he came home to raise his daughter.”

  “Billy’s a dad!” Connie headed to the fridge and pulled open the door, staring into its depths. “How old is his daughter?”

  “Four.”

  “Wait—the mother is a model? She’s not from Eagle’s Rest, then, is she?”

  Grace had done the same math. “No, it was that summer he spent working a ranch in the foothills. Remember that?”

  “I remember the two of you missed each other more than you’d admit,” her mother quipped.

  “Apparently he wasn’t quite so lonely,” Grace replied with a wry smile, pushing back a sense of betrayal she had no right to. They’d been friends—nothing more. Her heart in knots hadn’t been his fault.

  “You were always too good for him,” Connie said. “You know that. I told you so from the start.”

  Was she? Grace didn’t believe it. Billy had been fun and sweet. He might not have finished high school, but he was a hard worker, and he’d worked his way up in the ranks of any ranch that employed him. Those strong hands and laughing eyes—they’d been enough for her.

  “I remember Tracy told me that she was going to make a gentleman out of him—My Fair Lady style.” Grace shook her head. “It doesn’t surprise me that she left him at the first sign of a challenge.”

  “They deserved each other,” Connie retorted.

  “No, he didn’t deserve that. If they could have been happy, that would have been one thing, but as soon as Tracy found out about his daughter, she walked out on him.”

  “Maybe she’ll come back.”

  “Maybe.” But Grace’s heart gave a squeeze at the thought. She wanted Billy to have a full and happy life, but somehow giving him up for Tracy was harder than it would have been to see him move on with some woman she’d never met. “Anyway, his little girl’s name is Poppy, and she starts in my class tomorrow.”

  “Two weeks, sweetheart,” her mother said. “You probably won’t see him except for drop-off and pickup.”

  The kettle started to boil, and Grace pulled down two mugs. She could get through this, but it wouldn’t be easy. The problem with Billy wasn’t just her feelings for him. Grace had learned some valuable lessons through allowing herself to fall in love with a man who didn’t reciprocate her feelings. No good could come from it! She’d spent too long hoping that he would suddenly see her in a different light and recognize that his best buddy was actually his perfect romantic match. Now she knew she’d never thought it all through.

  What happened if he did see her differently? She’d still be the woman who hadn’t been enough to draw his eye for literally years’ worth of friendship. Yes, Grace was plump and round in an age of lithe models, but she didn’t suffer from low self-esteem. Everyone had a type they were attracted to. She seemed to like lanky cowboys. And Billy liked the model type. He always had. There was nothing to apologize for here.

  “How did you feel seeing him again?” her mother asked, passing Grace a tin of tea bags.

  “I’m okay,” Grace replied. “Billy was a good friend, and our lives have both moved on.�
�

  “Very mature of you,” her mother said, shooting her a smile.

  “Thank you. I thought so, too.”

  Connie chuckled. “What is his little girl like? Does she favor him?”

  “You can see him in the shape of her face... His daughter is gifted, though.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It sure looks that way. She’s four, and she sat down and wrote a letter to her father about how she liked his cowboy hat. She called it ‘extra special beautiful.’ She said how she’d never had a daddy before, but she said he could use his muscles to keep her safe, and she hoped he wouldn’t go away like her mother had. She promised to be good so he wouldn’t want to. It was heart-wrenching—and perfectly punctuated.”

  “At four,” Connie breathed.

  They exchanged a long look.

  “He’s overwhelmed,” Grace admitted, and an image of Billy came to mind—those dark eyes, the large, calloused hands, and the tender way he’d held his petite daughter in his arms. Billy might never have loved Grace, but he certainly did love that little girl.

  “Gracie, it’s a good thing that you’re going back to Denver,” her mother replied. “He’s a dad now, and he’ll have to figure it out on his own. He’s always been very comfortable leaning on you as his buddy, but you can’t use up all your energy on Billy Austin again. You’ve got your own life to live.”

  “I’m not trying to rescue him,” Grace replied. “I won’t go back to that.”

  It wasn’t possible to love a man into loving her, and she couldn’t fill those gaps between them with her own hopes and dreams. She was going back to Denver to work her next job, and hopefully one of these days, she’d meet a guy who looked at her the same way Billy had looked at Tracy.

  “Let’s see if your father notices these aren’t potatoes,” Connie said, looking down into the bowl she’d been mashing.

  “He’ll notice,” Grace said with a low laugh, and she looked down into the bowl. “I think they’re getting soupy, Mom.”

  “Oh...” Connie sighed.

  “You don’t need to lose weight, you know,” Grace said. “You and I are soft in all the right places.”