Their dynamic had to end. It was fine when she was young, single and didn’t mind if she remained that way for a little while so long as she had Billy in her life. But she was old enough at that point to want a family of her own, and this close friendship with Billy hadn’t been enough for her, either. She knew that using up her time with him would make her less available for the kind of relationship she did want. Besides, when she did find a good guy of her own, he wouldn’t be okay with this cozy setup she and Billy enjoyed. How could he be? Tracy sure hadn’t been. Their dynamic relied on Grace being in love with Billy!
So last night, after Grace went back to her parents’ house and went upstairs to her old bedroom, she did the same thing that she’d done three years ago. She vowed to herself that this was it—no more pining for that man. Billy was a friend, and Grace wanted romance, marriage, a few kids of her own. And she wasn’t going to get her wishes fulfilled with Billy Austin.
The school day drew to a close, and Grace saw her students off. She stopped to talk to the mother of one little boy who had wet his pants, and the mother of a little girl who was very upset because “Daddy smokes cigarettes and he’s going to die!” She must have overheard something at home, because that wasn’t a topic they covered this early in school. When the last of the children were gone, Grace went over to sit down next to Poppy at the sand table.
Poppy looked down at the lines she’d drawn in the sand—childish block letters that started out large and squashed down to small and skinny the closer she got to the other side. Extra special beau— That was all that fit.
“How was your day, Poppy?” Grace asked.
“Not good.” Poppy looked up at Grace somberly.
“No?” Grace said. “I’m sorry.”
“I miss my daddy,” Poppy sighed, and looked forlornly toward the door. Grace followed her gaze.
The door swung open and Billy appeared, his cowboy hat tucked under one arm. He peered inside with a cautious expression, and Grace felt a wave of relief of her own. He was back...and she was happy for Poppy, not for herself. At least that was what she told herself.
A smile erupted over Poppy’s face and she bounced to her feet. “There’s Daddy!”
“Hey there, kiddo.” Billy came into the room, and he looked relieved to see his daughter, too. He bent down and gathered her up into a hug. “So, how was your day?”
“Terrible,” Poppy said, her voice wavering. “Just terrible.”
“What happened?” Billy looked a little panicky, and Grace couldn’t help but smile at that. He’d been taken off guard by that tantrum last night and seemed to be mildly traumatized still.
“I missed you!” Poppy declared. “That’s what happened!”
Billy’s shoulders lowered and he nodded a couple of times. “Well, I’m here now.”
He put Poppy down and let himself be tugged into the room, and he shot Grace a relieved smile as Poppy pushed him toward a tiny, child-size chair.
“So, how was your day?” he asked Grace.
“I signed the papers to accept that teaching position in Denver starting in September,” she replied. “I’ll be teaching first grade.”
“Yeah?” Billy paused, then nodded. “That’s great. Really great.”
She wished it felt better. “A full-time teaching position is hard to come by these days, so it’s a big relief.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Billy met her gaze. “I’m proud of you.” His lips quirked up into that heart-stopping grin of his. “Miss Beverly.”
His use of her name sounded almost flirtatious, and she met his eye for a moment. She wasn’t interested in playing this game. Flirting might pass the time for him, but it only made things harder for her.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Seriously,” he added.
She smiled faintly. “Yeah, I’m happy with it, too.” She looked toward Poppy, who was watching them quizzically, and forced a cheerful smile to her face. “So, are you ready to learn some fun stuff, Poppy?”
“Yep,” Poppy agreed.
“Why don’t we start with some reading?” Grace suggested. “I’ve got some fun new words you might like.”
She glanced back at Billy and found his eyes locked on her. Heat came to her cheeks, and she turned back to her student. Grace had put together a spelling list for Poppy. She’d been so keen to know how to spell extra special beautiful that Grace had to wonder if she’d enjoy caterpillar and unicorn just as much.
“Let’s go to the whiteboard,” Grace said. “I have some magnetic letters that spell a word. It’s a fun word! I think you’ll like it.”
Grace held up a paper bag temptingly, and Poppy’s eyes widened.
“Okay!” Poppy skipped up to the board, and then Grace opened the bag and handed her the letters. “Now, I want you to find a letter C, and stick it to the board.”
Poppy took her time sorting through the letters. She pulled them out, sticking them to one side of the board, frowning at each one. But when Grace glanced over at Billy, she noticed that he was staring at the letters with the same level of intense scrutiny.
“First a C...” Grace prompted, and Poppy pulled out a C and put it in the center of the board. “Now an A...”
Grace walked her through it, and the girl’s eyes lit up. “That’s how you spell caterpillar?”
“Every time,” Grace said with a laugh. “I thought you might like that one. Now put those letters back in the bag, give it a good shake and let’s see if you can spell it again on your own.”
Poppy seemed to like this game, and Grace looked over at Billy again with a grin.
“You tired or something?” she asked.
“Why?” He pulled his attention from the board.
“You’re focusing on the board like it’s a black hole,” she said. “Long day?”
“Uh...” He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. I guess I’m tired.”
“You looked spooked last night,” Grace said.
“That was the first tantrum,” he said with a small smile. “Took me off guard.”
Grace shot him a grin. “You survived.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed dinner,” he said. “I knew Poppy was tired. I did exactly what my mom always did—put my own social life ahead of my kid.”
“You’re being a little hard on yourself,” Grace said. “You took your daughter out for pizza. I mean, not exactly torture.”
He shrugged, and then fixed his attention back on the whiteboard once more.
“Cat-er-pill-ar,” Grace intoned slowly for Poppy’s benefit, then turned back to Billy. “Anyway, about teaching children this young. It can be easier for little kids to deal with letters in a tactile way. It’s hard to focus on just a squiggle on the page. I know that Poppy is already really advanced, but holding letters, arranging them...that can be a nice way for a child her age to learn.”
“Yeah...” Billy nodded a couple of times. “That...um...makes sense. I might try that with her at home. Where do you get those letters?”
“I have an extra set here if you want to borrow them,” Grace said. “They’re really useful.”
What was with him? Billy had closed off and looked almost uncomfortable, and his gaze was fixed on that board with the letters that his daughter was lining up to spell the word caterpillar for the fourth time.
“Can you rearrange those letters to spell other words?” Grace asked. “I bet you could!”
Billy pulled his attention from the board as Grace handed him a plastic box of magnetic letters. He looked down at it for a moment, then nodded quickly.
“Thanks.”
“Billy, what’s going on?” she asked.
“I’m going to do better than my mom did with me,” he said seriously.
“You already are,” she said. “Look, I know that teaching a little girl can be a bit daunting, but th
is makes it easy.” She tapped the box in his hands. “Just stick them on the fridge.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He opened the box and picked up a letter, scrutinizing it for a moment before putting it back. “This just might work...”
It was sweet, really. He was taking this so seriously. He was a first-time parent, tossed into the deep end with a four-year-old girl. So she could appreciate how intimidating that would be. She was used to kids from her job, but Billy wouldn’t be. He was used to horses and cattle—a whole different ballgame.
“Don’t you remember being a little kid with magnetic letters?” she asked.
“No, I remember being a little kid, watching TV until my mom got home, and being afraid if anyone came to the door because it might be child welfare. That’s the kind of thing I remember.”
“At four?” She eyed him for a moment.
“Older probably, but still.”
Grace heaved a sigh. “Your mom had to work—”
“No, she was dating some loser or another,” he replied with a bitter smile. “Every romantic prospect came before I did. And I had to call them all Uncle.”
So pizza with her and his daughter brought back those memories? That thought was a heavy one, and Grace looked back toward the whiteboard, where Poppy was sorting through the letters.
“How’s your mom doing?” Grace asked quietly, turning back to Billy.
“Fine.” His answer was clipped and tight. He didn’t want to talk about this. Grace remembered that he and his mom had always had a tense relationship.
“Have you seen her yet?” she pressed.
“Yeah, of course,” he said. “I stopped by the bar and she came out to the parking lot to see Poppy. But...no, I haven’t visited her properly yet.”
“Isn’t she why you came back?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “You came for family, right? Who else have you got?”
“I used to have you,” he said.
“I’m not family,” she said, slightly irritated. He wanted more from her than was fair to ask.
“I know. Sorry, I just...” He dropped his gaze to the box of letters in his hand. “But you’re right—I need to reconnect with my mom. Who knows? It might even be good for me.”
“Look, Miss Beverly!” Poppy said. “I’ve got some little words. But I don’t want this one anymore. I want a new word!”
She glanced toward Billy, and he shrugged. “Teach the kid a word, Miss Beverly.”
She forced a smile. That was why they were here—this was about Poppy.
“Then you need to pull out the letter U,” Grace said, walking closer to her student. “This is a great word. You’re going to love it.”
And Billy’s attention went back to the board with that laser focus of his. He was going to have to learn to relax—there was no way around it. But what did she know about adjusting to surprise parenthood? She didn’t have kids of her own. This was Billy’s challenge.
Even with everything that Billy was going through right now, it wasn’t all about him. Grace wasn’t willing to be the emotional support he needed. She’d been the one he could count on for too many years, and it hadn’t gotten her what she’d longed for. He’d just have to stand on his own two feet, like she’d been doing all along.
CHAPTER FIVE
BILLY TOOK THE box of magnetic letters home that night, and he put them on the counter next to the fridge. He sorted through them, holding one letter at a time, enjoying the fact that, individually, the letters made sense. If he put some together, with some space between, he could make out some short words, too. He’d noticed that in the classroom—that those silly magnetic letters seemed to help, somehow.
And he felt foolish, because they were a children’s tool. Still, he’d wanted to pick up something while his daughter learned, and it seemed that he had.
Grace had mentioned his mother this afternoon, too, and that had gotten him to thinking. He’d seen her since he’d come back to town only the once, when he’d stopped by to say hi at the bar where his mom worked these days, but he hadn’t invited her over. He felt a twinge of guilt. She was his mother, after all. He didn’t hate her; he just wanted to parent better than she had. Plus, she still seemed pretty busy with her own life. She’d called him once after he’d returned and they’d had a short conversation where he promised to come see her soon, so maybe it was time he made good on that.
Finally Billy picked up the phone, called her and invited himself and Poppy over for the next evening.
Heather Austin lived in a little rental house in an older part of town. It was a bungalow with brown siding and a carport that was filled on one side with chopped wood. The other side had an assortment of boxes, and Heather’s little blue sedan sat out on the drive. Billy parked behind it.
“Here we are,” Billy said. “You remember meeting Grandma, right?”
Poppy was silent, and Billy heaved a sigh. His tense relationship with his mom had gotten worse after he’d left town with Tracy. Mom hadn’t liked Tracy much, and that had ticked off Billy something fierce. Looking back on it, maybe she’d had a point, but his relationship with his mom hadn’t been strong enough for him to hear it. Now he was back, without Tracy, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about all this. It would have been easier on his ego if things with Tracy had worked out. At least he wouldn’t have had to tell his mom she’d been right.
Billy got out of the truck and opened up the back door to help Poppy down. She was wearing snow pants now and a matching winter coat—all in pink. She’d chosen them herself, along with a toothbrush, and Billy finally felt like he was getting things together. He took her mittened hand and they tramped through the heavy snow together, toward the front door. But before they got to it, it swung open and his mom beamed at them in welcome.
Heather was a petite woman. She wore a low-cut pink sweater that revealed some cleavage and part of a tattoo across the top of her chest. She wore jeans about one size too small. Her hair was cropped short in a spiky modern do, and her makeup was subdued.
“You’re finally here!” Heather said. “Well, get on in here, you two.”
“Hey, Mom,” Billy said, bending down to kiss her cheek as he walked inside. The house was warm and smelled of roasting chicken. As Billy peeled off his winter coat, his mom helped Poppy to get out of hers.
“Do you know who I am?” Heather asked softly.
“You’re my grandma,” Poppy said solemnly. “I’ve never had one of them before.”
“You’re my first grandchild, too,” Heather said, then glanced up Billy. “She looks like you, Billy.”
Billy looked down at the little face with the big blue eyes. People seemed to say that without much thought. He’d never been blonde in his life, and his eyes were dark.
“Well, let’s get you inside, little miss,” Heather said. “We have lots of getting to know each other, don’t we?”
Poppy reached up to touch the tattoo near Heather’s collarbone, and Heather chuckled, bending down to give Poppy a better look.
“That was my birthday present to myself when I turned thirty-five,” she said. “It’s a long story, and it includes some bad choices, so I won’t tell you until you’re older.”
“Mom...” Billy said warningly.
“I said I wouldn’t tell her!” Heather protested, then winked at Poppy.
His mother seemed softer now. Maybe she was more suited to grandmothering than she was to being an actual mom.
“So...how are you, Mom?” Billy asked.
“I’m doing great,” she said. “Tips are fantastic these days. I don’t know what it is—maybe it’s the bulb that burned out by the bathrooms.”
“Mom, little ears,” he said irritably.
“Grandma looks younger than she really is in dim light, sweetheart,” Heather said, bending down to Poppy’s level. “And when Grandma looks yo
unger, men tip better.”
She tapped Poppy’s nose with one finger and gave Poppy a wise look. Poppy stared up at Heather in silence for a beat, then looked over at Billy questioningly.
“How about we not talk about the bar in front of Poppy,” Billy said, and Heather shrugged her assent.
“It never hurt you to know how the world worked,” she said.
Hadn’t it? He’d known far more than he should have. His mother’s parenting approach had been one of complete honesty, whether it was age appropriate or not.
“Poppy has just started preschool,” Billy volunteered. “And she’s got Miss Beverly for a teacher.”
“Beverly...as in Gracie Beverly?” Heather’s eyebrows shot up. She headed over to peek inside the oven, then turned down the heat on a bubbling pot on the stove.
“Yeah, she’s back in town for a few weeks, covering a maternity leave,” Billy said.
“If they don’t come to the bar, or I don’t run into them at the grocery store, I have no idea,” Heather said. “Oh, sorry.” She pinched her lips shut for emphasis. “No talk of the bar.”
“I know about bars...” Poppy said softly.
“What’s that?” Billy looked down at Poppy.
“I know about bars,” Poppy repeated quietly. “My mommy used to take me to the bar and I waited in the car with my teddy bear.”
Billy’s heart clenched, and he darted a look at his mother. She stood looking down at Poppy with a grim expression on her face.
“Your mother would leave you in the car when she went into the bar?” Heather asked.
“Uh-huh. I was a good girl. I stayed under the blanket. Except for once, and the police lady found me and Mommy got into trouble.” Poppy’s eyes filled with tears. “And that’s why she went away...”
“No, no!” Billy bent down, but he had no words to comfort his daughter. He didn’t understand why Carol-Ann had chosen some modeling gig over her little girl to begin with, and he didn’t know how to fix any of this. She’d been leaving Poppy alone in the car while she drank at a bar? The realization was startling. Who did that?
Falling for the Cowboy Dad Page 6
