She took a deep breath. Then another one. It will be okay. She could do this. She would do this. Baby Joy might not have her mother and father, but Brooke would make sure Joy grew up surrounded by love. That wasn’t the part that worried her. Raising Joy, watching her grow up—that was a gift. Unexpected, but a gift nonetheless.
No, all of her stress could be traced back to one thing—well, one person: Audy Briscoe. She didn’t know which was worse—Audy breaking his promise to Kent or Audy keeping his promise. If he broke it, this was over and she wouldn’t have to worry about incorporating him into her everyday life. But if he didn’t... If this surprising bout of honor stuck and he decided to stick around, Brooke suspected she’d be raising Joy—and Audy Briscoe, too.
She shook her head. “I love you, Dara, but I didn’t agree to anything when it came to that man.”
Besides, Audy Briscoe is a lost cause.
* * *
AUDY HAD NEVER wanted to throw a CD out the window then run over it—a couple of times—before driving off in a cloud of dust as much as he did right this minute. The more they listened to the same chipper nursery rhyme songs, the more appealing the idea became. But Brooke was insistent that they do what they could to keep Joy calm. From music CDs to the toys in her crib to Joy’s baby book and a stack of neatly typed check-off schedule forms he had found in a drawer by the back door, they’d taken it all. He wasn’t sure whether he was impressed or amused by the detailed What Joy Did Today empty graph with notes on what she’d eaten, how she’d slept, or whether she’d done anything unusual or new. Not only had he found the empty ones, he’d found a slim binder with filled-out forms inside—completed by Dara and the day care—stored in date order. And the baby book? He wasn’t sure how Dara managed to be a successful marketing designer and keep it up-to-date. From the looks of it, Dara added to it daily. But, as Brooke had pointed out, all those details might be useful to them in their day-in-and-day-out existence.
That’s Dara, Brooke had said, tucking the forms into the binder. She’s a stickler for keeping everything organized.
Organized? Well, that was one way of putting it. Uptight seemed more like it. Or, as Uncle Felix liked to say, persnickety. Like Forrest. Not that Audy was going to say so out loud. He’d only nodded and watched as Brooke put the binder into one of the bags where she’d collected must-have items to take back with them.
He’d never thought of a nursery rhyme CD as a must-have item, but once Brooke had put it on, Joy’s fussing stopped and her little pink-ruffled sock-covered feet began to bounce along with the music. That was the only reason he hadn’t thrown the CD out the window. About forty minutes into the trip, and before the magical CD had been discovered, things had gotten a little too much for Audy.
Audy hadn’t been prepared for Joy getting sad, but he learned real fast that it was a no-go zone for him. Kent had called Joy his “little angel” and Audy got it—she was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. Seeing her do this flippy thing with her lower lip had sent Audy into a panic. An honest-to-goodness panic. Heart hammering, lungs emptying a what-do-I-do-now-because-something-has-to-be-done-to-make-her-stop-that-now sort of panic. But it got worse.
Her lower lip flipped out and her huge brown eyes got all shiny with tears... Tears. Audy didn’t do tears. He avoided them altogether. But tears from this honest-to-goodness angelic little doll? No. It couldn’t happen. Not here. Not now. Not ever. At least not when he was around. It was enough to have sweat beading on Audy’s forehead. Looking away didn’t help—he knew she was there, he could feel those big brown eyes staring up at him as she curled into the side of her car seat and pressed her face against the fabric, almost like she was hiding.
Then she sniffed. Then hiccuped. Audy made the terrible mistake of looking down at her... The tip of her little nose turned red and he couldn’t take it. He’d never felt so helpless and desperate all at once.
When Joy had started calling, “Ma ma,” he was having a hard time breathing. It hurt, something fierce, not to explain things to Joy. Not that it’d give her any comfort.
Luckily, that was when Brooke unearthed the CD. If she hadn’t? Audy wasn’t sure. It likely wouldn’t have been pretty. He might not be a baby person, but Joy was about the cutest thing he’d ever set eyes on and he felt certain he’d act like a fool to keep her from being sad. And, come on, that lip-flip thing? Nope. Nuh-uh. He could not handle that. Which meant he was stuck with the CD. Over and over.
If he hadn’t known the words to “There Was an Old Lady” before this trip—and he hadn’t, of course—he knew every single one of them by heart now. Chances were, the song would haunt his dreams that night. The same perky-sounding woman singing into his ear. Playing on repeat. Audy shuddered at the thought. “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and “Bingo” were close seconds, but the only song that made Joy happy and had her little feet bouncing along with the music was “There Was an Old Lady.”
Now that Joy’s little eyes had drifted shut and Brooke turned down the music, he could think a little more clearly. Though, he wasn’t sure that was any better.
Thoughts of Garrison, his family, co-parenting with Brooke—not to mention Joy herself... No, he didn’t want to think right now. From the look on Brooke’s face, she was pondering the same worries he was. Looks like we both need to get out of our head.
“It never says why she swallowed the fly,” he said, without really thinking through what he was saying. “Does it?”
Brooke’s astonishment was funny. Sort of. It would have been funnier if her eyes weren’t red-rimmed and bloodshot. “What?”
He didn’t blame her for being shocked. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing he’d ever imagined saying but...now that it was out there and he had her attention, he kept on going. “The song. It says why she swallowed the spider, bird, cat and dog but...after that, the whole thing goes off the rails.” He shook his head, giving her a disbelieving look. “A goat? To catch a dog. What does it mean by catch? It’s a goat. It doesn’t have any hands, so it can’t catch the dog. It can’t catch anything.”
Brooke was full-on staring at him now, her mouth open.
“And if she swallowed the goat to eat the dog, that wouldn’t work. A goat will eat just about anything but I’ve never, in all my days, seen a goat eat a canine. And I’ve seen my fair share of strange things, let me tell you. As far as I know, a goat is an herbivore. That part and then that last bit?” He shook his head. “About the horse. You’re telling me swallowing the horse killed her? She’s fine swallowing a whole barnyard of livestock—doesn’t even bat an eye—but, no, it’s the horse that finally did her in.”
Brooke blinked, her mouth opening and closing and opening again.
“It’s far-fetched, is all I’m saying.” He shrugged. “She probably had internal hemorrhaging long before she went and swallowed some poor old horse. Not that it’s physically possible for anyone to swallow a horse. Not whole, that’s for sure. But it’d be pretty hard to swallow any of the other things, really—once you get past the bird. Even then, it depends on what type of bird we’re talking about. A finch? Maybe. A blue jay? Unlikely.” He paused, then swiveled his thumb in Joy’s direction. “Come to think of it, why is this okay for her to hear? All this one thing eating another thing—all inside some poor old woman’s body. That’d give a little one nightmares, wouldn’t it? Some poor old woman that, for no known reason—none the song ever explains, anyway—ate a dad-gummed fly. Plus some.”
Brooke made a sound, startled and high-pitched and along the lines of a giggle. She cleared her throat. “Audy...” She stopped.
“Go on. I’m all ears on this. Animals eating animals seems downright inappropriate for baby music. I’m not sure it’s good for her, is all I’m trying to say.” He tapped along with the music, then stopped and pointed at the radio console. “Oh, and another thing. Which song came first, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ or the ‘A
lphabet Song’?” He waited but she’d gone back to silently staring at him, so he went on. “It’s the same music. You hear it? Listen.” He stopped for a second, then nodded. “Exact. Music. Sure, they changed the lyrics, but the music? Same. Isn’t that like...plagiarism or something?”
Another giggle. This time, there was no denying it was a giggle.
“What?” After twenty-four hours of tension so thick he’d nearly choked on it, he was all too content to savor Brooke Young’s smile. Her laughter, too.
She shook her head, still laughing.
“No, no, now, come on.” He was smiling now, he had to. “After listening to the same songs for the last three-plus hours, questions are going to come up. That’s all I’m saying.” He glanced at Joy sleeping soundly. “She’s asleep, so you can say what you’re thinking. And don’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same things—”
“I wasn’t.” She was a little breathless. “Honest. That... Everything you just said? No. That was an entirely...unique take on—”
“A song kids shouldn’t be listening to?” He finished for her.
She grinned. “I never thought I’d hear Audy Briscoe get all worked up over what was suitable music for a baby.”
“And why is that?” he countered, glad for the conversation—even one that was mostly nonsense.
“Mr. Break-Into-The-Stockyards-And-Rile-Up-The-Bulls Briscoe? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m more familiar with the tractor-racing-then-ditch-crashing Audy?” She sighed.
How did she know about the stockyards? As far as he knew, that wasn’t common knowledge. Not yet, anyway. It wasn’t like a person could keep a secret in Garrison, though. Too many eyes and ears and people with too much time on their hands for that. “Well, just because I’ve been known to sow some wild oats every now and again doesn’t mean I’m okay with a little thing like Joy being entertained by this sort of thing.” He pointed at the radio. “It’s not right, Brooke. There’s nothing wrong with some classic George Jones or Charley Pride or Patsy Cline. No dog-eating goats in any of their songs.”
Brooke smiled again. “No, just drinking and cheating and heartbreaks.”
“You’re saying those things are worse than a little old woman eating a bunch of animals and dropping dead?” He shook his head.
Her chuckle was soft. “We’re almost home anyway. I doubt you’ll have to listen to it for much longer.”
Home. What did that mean now? Part of him wanted to ask—there was a whole slew of unanswered questions they’d need to hash out. But that conversation would wipe away her smile and make things stiff and tension-heavy in no time.
Being an adult isn’t all fun and games. It’s hard choices and hard conversations. Forrest’s voice, all condescending impatience, played through his brain.
Fine. Twenty-seven makes me an adult. I can be a grown-up. No point putting it off, anyway. In thirty minutes, they’d be pulling into town and, he suspected, there’d likely be a welcome party of curious townsfolk eagerly waiting for their arrival.
“How are we doing this?” he asked, diving in. “With Joy, I mean?”
“What?” she asked, tucking a long strand of caramel-colored hair behind her ear.
“You told the lawyer-man you wanted Joy in town and I think you’re right about it being the best for her and all.” He swallowed, all too aware of the odd expression on her face. “I understand and agree but I want to know where I fit into this...” He nodded at Joy. “On a daily basis, I mean.”
“Well...” She shrugged. “I don’t know, Audy. How do you envision it? I’ve got the salon to run. You’ve got work at the ranch. And your rodeos.”
He heard the disdain in her voice but let it go. “I figure we should sort this stuff out before we get to your place. You know, come up with some half-with-you and half-with-me sort of time-share thing?”
“Time-share?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing.
“You know what I mean.” Why was she being so prickly about this. He’d told her he wasn’t backing out and he’d meant it. “We’re doing this together. Being co-guardians.” He pointed at himself. “With you.” He pointed at her. “For her.” He pointed at Joy now, swallowing hard. He’d made a promise and he’d keep his word—but that didn’t mean he’d made peace with it. Not yet, anyway. “I figure we should sort out how we’re doing this.”
Brooke blinked.
“Right?” he asked, wishing he was better at reading her. Brooke Young mad? He knew that look. Brooke Young frustrated? He knew that one, too. Those were the two emotions he most often inspired in her—the rest were a mystery. Sort of like Brooke.
He knew her, sort of. He knew what she let him know—which was what everyone knew. She’d given up college and a life beyond Garrison to take care of her mother, raise her sister and run the family business. That was it. Sure, he’d seen snippets of carefree Brooke when she was with Dara, but she’d shut that down once he took notice.
That was one other thing he did know about Brooke. She didn’t like him. She didn’t like him and she didn’t bother hiding it. He’d never understood why. He’d never treated her any differently than anyone else he’d gone to school with—but, even then, she’d seemed to have an ax to grind with him.
“I guess we should back up.” He stared out the front windshield, more and more familiar landmarks passing as they drew closer to Garrison. “I know I’m not one of your favorite people, Brooke. I guess I don’t have to be for us to do this. But I’m thinking it’d be easier all around if we could be friends.” He glanced at Joy. “For her and for us. What do you say?”
The noise Brooke made now wasn’t a giggle. In fact, there was nothing comical about it. Her sigh was all impatience and frustration—Brooke sighed like that a lot when he was around. He was all too familiar with the sound. Brooke wasn’t the only one who acted like he was a nuisance—poking at her last nerve. Forrest did, too. Maybe I should fix the two of them up. Then they could bond over what a total disappointment I am. He frowned, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.
“I guess we can try.” Brooke sounded doubtful.
Hardly the best way for them to start. “And the schedule?” he asked, his gaze darting her way. “What did you have in mind?”
It was Brooke’s turn to swallow hard and squirm under his gaze.
The longer he waited for her answer, the redder her cheeks became. And then he knew. “You were still counting on my backing out, weren’t you?”
There it was, the flash of defiance on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes.”
The certainty of her answer was a slap to the face. A jagged knot formed in his throat, making it hard to go on. Did he have his doubts? Yes. Was he worried he’d mess this up? Oh, yeah. But was he going to try—as hard as he could—to do right by Joy and the promise he’d made Kent and Dara? Without a doubt. And he wasn’t going to let Brooke’s sighs or Forrest’s impatience or Joy’s lip-flip stop him. Well, Brooke and Forrest, at least. He was having a hard time imagining a time when the sight of Joy’s little lip-flip thing didn’t gut him on the spot. I’ll figure it out. One thing at a time. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Brooke.”
“Audy...I don’t see how this will work. We live very different lives, you know that,” she said, those eyes of hers searching his. “We are different people.”
“I do know that.” And if I ever forgot, you’d be sure to remind me. “But you said you wanted to make sure Joy was settled and there would be no reason the courts would take her away from us. Lawyer-man said they’d want to see us bonded and invested in Joy’s life. To do that, I have to be part of her daily life.” He paused. The words that bubbled up were childish but they came out anyway. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
There was that flash and outrage he knew like the back of his hand. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Audy Briscoe? If I throw up my hand
s and walk away, you get off scot-free, don’t you? Is that what this is about? If you think my dislike for you can compare to the love I have for Dara, you’re more self-centered than I imagined.” She was fuming now. “I’m not going to let Joy get taken by strangers just because you’re incapable of owning up to any sort of responsibility.”
If her quick assumption that he’d been planning to bail on her had stung, this was more like a kick in the chest. By a bull. Did she really think so low of him? What had he ever done to her to make her think he was that sort of man? So, he liked to have a good time now and then and up until now, he’d flinched at the idea of children... But surely that wasn’t reason enough for her to form this low of an opinion of him? He wasn’t heartless. Joy was a cute little thing. Cute and helpless and all that was left of Kent and Dara. The thought of Joy left with strangers that never knew her parents turned his insides cold. He might not be able to handle her tears or her lip-flip but, surprisingly, he didn’t want anyone else doing it, either. Neither did Kent. Nor Dara.
That steadied him. They knew him and yet this was what they wanted. He was who they wanted. And even though the idea of Brooke Young on a daily basis made his jaw clench so tight he worried about cracking his teeth, he’d work through it—because Joy needed him to.
After his folks were gone, Uncle Felix had taken them in—he’d stepped up and done what needed doing. Now it was Audy’s turn to do the same. Brooke had made up her mind about him and it was all bad. She, like Forrest, would never give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that’s why he put on his best grin and turned, all charm. “You’re getting the pleasure of my company from here on out—daily. I know a lot of ladies who’d be happy to change places with you.” Her lips pressed tightly together and disapproval rolled off her in waves, but he wasn’t going to let on that her low opinion got to him. He wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.
Instead, he winked.
The Rebel Cowboy's Baby--A Clean Romance Page 6
