No Cowboy Required (Biggest Little Love)

by Sky, JoAnn

  “We’re a family here at Goldfield, a community,” Mrs. Matthews continued. “Some children just don’t fit well within that community. When that occurs, we have an obligation to be upfront about that to the family.”

  “And how doesn’t he fit in?” Grace tried to wipe this morning’s events from her mind, knowing her face was as easy to read as a See Jane Run book.

  “He tends to stick to himself, doesn’t socialize with the other kids.”

  That didn’t seem too bad. At least he didn’t bang his head against the wall.

  “Does he have friends in his neighborhood?” Mrs. Matthews asked.

  Grace hadn’t seen any sign of those. But was Goldfield a school or a social club? “Being shy isn’t against school rules, is it?”

  “Of course not. Though JJ tends to have trouble with rules.”

  Something twisted inside Grace, a just-don’t-feel-right twinge in her gut, as she remembered what JJ had said about his art teacher.

  “Any class in particular?”

  “He can be difficult in all of them, but he seems to particularly struggle in art.” Mrs. Matthews indicated the woman sitting at the end of the table. “Ms. Ripoli can elaborate.”

  Grace turned toward the teacher, a mousy woman in a conservative suit. A woman who, by the looks of it, had missed the self-expression and creativity train twenty years ago.

  “He doesn’t follow directions well,” Ms. Ripoli said, pushing her thick-lensed glasses up the ridge of her nose. “We paint on rectangular cardstock, ten by twelve-inch sheets. I require each piece to have a one-inch white border. The piece’s title goes in the border’s top right-hand corner, and the student’s name in the bottom left-hand corner. He hasn’t followed those instructions all year.”

  Though the class sounded utterly boring, the directions seemed straightforward enough. “Does he forget to put his name on it?”

  “No,” Ms. Ripoli clipped. “He typically incorporates it into the drawing.”

  Was this woman serious? It was an art class. JJ was being creative, not defiant. “You mean, he adds it into the piece artistically?”

  “I mean it’s dissimilar to the other students and against my instructions.” The tone of her voice made it clear she was not only annoyed at JJ’s behavior but borderline shocked.

  “How is the quality of his work otherwise?”

  Ms. Ripoli squared her shoulders. “His clouds were the worst clouds I’ve seen in all my years of teaching.”

  “Clouds?”

  “They had no definition.”

  “They’re clouds.”

  “I’ve been very disappointed in his work.” She sniffed. “His grade reflects that.”

  “To be honest, Ms. Harper,” Mrs. Matthews cut in, “JJ’s grades in his core classes are not at par with his peers, either. We’ve tried to modify the work and help improve his test-taking ability, but his scores on the statewide exams this spring were well below grade level in both math and reading. We have standards to maintain.” She folded her hands on the table. “Like I said, we’re concerned Goldfield might not be the best fit for JJ.”

  That weird feeling of protectiveness sprouted in Grace’s chest and spread to her shoulders. She sat up and tried to shake it off. But the unfamiliar emotion clung to her shoulder blades, its thorns digging into the small of her back. “Let me get this straight, you want to kick him out because he’s pulling down your school’s test score average—and because he can’t draw clouds ‘correctly’?”

  “We pride ourselves on offering an outstanding educational experience to all of our students, Ms. Harper. We want to do what’s best.”

  Her words sounded so similar to Grace’s the night before. Words that, at the time, Grace had meant as sincere. Words that now sounded so shallow. Noah’s response to Grace echoed in her brain. Best for who?

  Grace cleared her throat. “Best for JJ, or best for your test scores?”

  “Best for everyone.” The woman looked down her nose at Grace. Down her nose.

  Oh no, that wouldn’t do. Neither would this prison.

  JJ deserved a place that at least tried to understand his social quirks, a place that nurtured his imagination. Would the boarding school do that? Maybe, maybe not. But it sure couldn’t do worse.

  “We’re on the same page, then. I’m here to withdraw JJ from school. Today. He’ll be returning to New York with me in a couple weeks. I need him at home.” Grace glanced toward Ms. Ripoli before finishing. “It doesn’t seem like he’ll miss much here.” Grace leaned forward, resting her weight on her elbows, taking command of the room like she’d seen Simon do in countless customer meetings. “If you could pack up his locker. Now. I don’t expect JJ will need to return to Goldfield Academy.”

  Mrs. Matthews’s face turned ashen. Clearly, decisions to leave Goldfield were typically one-sided.

  Satisfaction surged through her veins like adrenaline. No one would get away with treating her brother poorly. Not on her watch.

  Chapter Ten

  Grace plopped the cardboard box filled with JJ’s stuff into her car and slammed the trunk shut.

  The nerve of those people. Teachers were supposed to challenge and inspire, not confine and berate. How JJ managed to survive as long as he had in that place was a mystery—and a miracle. He deserved so much better. Everything Grace had heard about JJ’s mom made it clear that Sheila wouldn’t have put up with this if she’d known. Had she not been paying attention? What could have been more important than her son?

  Her husband, dying of cancer.

  Sadness swirled inside of Grace. It mixed with compassion for what her father and his new family had been dealing with—feelings she hadn’t allowed herself to feel toward her father since she’d left town. Since Noah had pushed her away.

  Noah. JJ’s protector and best friend. At one time, Noah had been both those to Grace. But now, what was he? Grace’s emotions played tug-of-war every time she thought of him and their bittersweet past. Of their murky, unresolved present. What was Noah’s place in her and JJ’s future?

  Noah had been right about Goldfield; it wasn’t worth its fancy reputation. That didn’t mean he’d be right about the boarding school, though she’d never convince him of that. Especially not after today.

  Dear Lord, what had she done? Apprehension crept into her stomach, then morphed into full-out alarm as she realized what she’d just done. Goodbye recommendation. Mrs. Matthews probably wouldn’t give one, and Grace was too pissed to go back in and ask anyway. And what about JJ’s transcripts? There was at least one exam—science—that JJ would miss. Now there’d be incompletes or failing grades to explain. What had she been thinking?

  JJ had survived an entire year. Two more weeks wouldn’t have killed him. She’d acted too hastily. It shouldn’t have been possible, but the morning had gone from very bad to much, much worse.

  She got into her car and started the engine. Bad things happened in threes, her Grandma Jean used to say. Grace looked up and checked the sky. Clear blue. Humph. She shoved the gearshift into drive. She had to get out of this parking lot. Today would be just the type of day for some meteorite to come crashing to earth and squash her like a bug.

  …

  Noah pressed the numbers into his phone to dial Destiny Morson. His thumb hovered over the green call button. Was he doing the right thing? Hell yeah. He pushed the green button.

  Destiny answered on the first ring. “I was just thinking about you guys. I heard Grace got in, and I’ll need to meet with her. How’s everything going?”

  Noah crossed his fingers before answering, “Fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. And JJ? How’s he doing?”

  He’d promised JJ he’d never leave, and he wouldn’t. Not without a fight. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling.” He needed someone to understand his side, and maybe even be on it. He dove in.

  Twenty minutes later, Noah had just enough knowledge to make himself dangerous and an inkling of a plan. From the h
ouse, Noah heard the engine humming as Gracie’s car pulled up the drive. Then the car door slammed. Not a good sign. He walked out the door and down the porch. Gracie opened her trunk and lifted out a cardboard box.

  She stepped toward him. “How is he?”

  Noah wanted to blame Gracie, to lash out, but that wouldn’t help the situation, and it certainly wouldn’t help JJ. Plus, he was tired of fighting. They’d rarely fought before, but now every interaction felt like a battle. Gracie had always been the one person who inspired him. She’d give 100 percent to everything she did and never seemed to tire.

  Except with her father. She gave and gave and gave; he took and took and took. Still George’s condition hadn’t improved. Noah had watched as Gracie’s life was sucked out of her. That was why Noah had pushed her away. She’d needed to get out. Without a word, he took the box from her.

  “Talk to me, please. How is he?” she asked again.

  “Exhausted. Asleep.”

  Her eyes widened briefly before her face relaxed. No doubt she’d expected a harsher response.

  “I’ll talk to him as soon as he wakes up.” She leaned back against the side of the car.

  “We’ll do it together.” Though hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. He held her gaze. “I think he’ll come back around to you. Just be honest with him.”

  Gracie nodded. The sun made her brown hair shimmer like gold thread. He wanted to drop the dang box and run his hands through the soft curls, twist them around his fingers like he used to.

  “They kicked him out.” Her tight tone brought him back to reality.

  “What?”

  “Apparently he doesn’t fit into the ‘Goldfield Community.’” She emphasized the last two words with finger quotes. She nodded toward the box. “You’re holding his locker stuff.” Then she let out a long sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me I was walking into a lion’s den?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  Her pursed lips and cocked head said she didn’t believe him.

  “Okay, I did, sort of. But when Mrs. Matthews called to talk about some behavior issues, I figured it was more a heads-up, not an on-probation thing.” He shrugged. “What does it matter anyway? He’s not going back there next year.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s not going back there this year, either. I pulled him out. Effective today. They were more interested in test scores than teaching. They want conformity, not individualism. A place like that is toxic for a kid like JJ.” She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “And the art teacher is horrific. JJ’s not spending another day there.” Her voice shook from outrage and something more. It was almost as if…as if she cared.

  Noah held his breath.

  “I left without asking for a recommendation letter.” Her voice quivered with panic.

  Noah was intrigued. Gracie had clearly fought like a mama bear defending her cub, instinctively, resolutely. And the aftermath didn’t fit into her master plan.

  He had a solution, hopefully. Destiny seemed to think his idea was solid, that he could be granted permanent guardianship of JJ if Gracie agreed and the stars aligned. Though she’d need to talk with Gracie, probably more than once, and JJ, too, and get their perspectives before she could even begin to consider it or advocate for it. She also argued in Gracie’s defense quite eloquently, that it was natural for Gracie to need time to come around and accept this and step up—and that JJ staying with his sister would be good for the boy, even if it might mean leaving Nevada.

  Noah agreed with everything but that last part. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much time to play wait-and-see, not with Gracie’s self-imposed deadline and the bank breathing down their necks. There was still a chance Gracie could change her mind and stay, though.

  “I won’t have a recommendation, and I’m not even sure I’ll have semester grades to show the boarding school.” Gracie waved her hands in the air with the frustration of someone who wanted to do the right thing. Of someone who cared.

  Ten more days of chances.

  “So, what are you going to do?” he asked.

  “What am I going to do?”

  Noah raised a brow and waited. Her jaw tightened.

  “I’m in this mess because of you.”

  He put the box on the ground then crossed his arms, his muscles bulging. “How do you figure?”

  “You kept things from me, important things. If you’d warned me about JJ’s behavioral problems, I would’ve been prepared. I wouldn’t have reacted so off-the-cuff, so…”

  “Passionately?”

  She glared at him. “Impulsively. You should have warned me.”

  “Funny, I don’t remember you ever asking me one damn time for my input.”

  She opened her mouth to object, then shut it. Because she knew he was right.

  He took a step closer, pointing a finger at her. “You blew in here like a dirt devil, with your little plan, and your little schedule, and a big-ass chip on your shoulder. You don’t want my help, remember?”

  The more he talked, the more the coldness in her face thawed. Worry lines, confusion. Like an enormous mess of emotions was battling to get out.

  He shoved his hands in his front jean pockets. “Hell, I’m still trying to figure out why you came running to me this morning.” Circumstances aside, it’d been a big step for Gracie. Her reaction to this school meeting was another.

  “He scared me. And I knew he’d respond to you. JJ trusts you.”

  True, but he hoped there was more. He waited.

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Because I trust you, at least when it comes to JJ.”

  It was a start, and he’d take it.

  She pushed past him and ran up to the porch swing, clutched the chain with her fingers. She sank onto the swing.

  Noah followed and sat next to her. “I’m scared every day.”

  “You?” She gave a rough grunt-laugh. “You act all macho, like you have everything under control.”

  “A show for JJ,” he said softly and leaned back in the swing. “That boy’s perceptive. He’s lost so much, I don’t want him to worry. He has a hard time dealing. You saw that this morning.”

  Gracie pushed her feet against the ground to swing the seat. A cool breeze swept in, and she closed her eyes as if trying to enjoy it. As if trying to find some peace. “There’s so much to do, to take care of. I don’t know where to begin.”

  Noah recognized the cry for help. And he wanted to swoop in and fix it all, save her from herself. But he couldn’t force it, though maybe he could nudge her just a bit.

  “Are you asking for my help?”

  The swing stopped.

  “Will you…will you help me?” Her lips grimaced, as if the words tasted like sand mixed with cyanide. She swallowed and kept going. “Maybe you could work with JJ,” she said tentatively. “You know, to get him used to the idea of a new school, a different life. And maybe help some with the animals, just a little, so I can get everything else settled.”

  It definitely wasn’t ideal, because she was holding firm to leaving. But she offered an opportunity Noah couldn’t refuse. “You want me to take care of JJ and the ranch while you pack them up.” It was a statement, not a question, and he purposely kept his voice devoid of any emotion she could identify.

  She glanced at him. Noah turned his body toward her, his knee pressing against hers. He felt a tremor run up her leg. He leaned in, invading her personal space, drinking in that cherry-lavender smell. “I have one condition,” he said softly. One she should refuse but wouldn’t, if she wanted to meet her deadline. And one that would give him the chance to rebuild what they’d had, maybe even build something stronger.

  Her eyes widened, as if surprised his answer was something other than instant rejection. Her now-pursed lips told him she was confused, perhaps afraid to ask what his condition might be. “One condition,” he repeated softly, seductively. She squirmed in her seat. It would’ve been so much easier for her to deal with contempt.

  His eyes d
ropped to her glossed lips. Would she laugh like she used to if he leaned in and nibbled her lower lip?

  “We don’t divvy up the work,” he said. He watched her face register his words. Watched her realize that her request would cost her more than she’d imagined. “The ranch, JJ, packing—we do it all together.”

  …

  A few hours later, Noah waltzed into the kitchen. “I’ve had enough website coding for today.”

  She wished she could say something similar. She had barely been able to concentrate on opening the stack of envelopes in front of her, let alone reading what was inside. She couldn’t think of anything except Noah’s words: we do it all together. Words that, on the surface, were a simple offer to help. But Grace knew it was anything but simple. How on earth would she get through the next week-plus sticking close to Noah in everything they did? Yet how on earth would she get through it without him?

  Grace twisted in the kitchen chair, stretching her back. “And I’ve had enough sorting mail.” Or, rather, sorting bills.

  “Ready for some real work?” he asked. “Which do you want, chicken feed or milk duty?”

  Grace feigned surprise with her best game face. “I thought you said we were doing everything together.” She wouldn’t let him affect her. Definitely wouldn’t let him control her response.

  Noah’s lips twitched. “You’re right. Chickens, then goats.”

  “I’ll feed the chickens.” JJ walked through the kitchen and to the screen door without looking at either of them. “I’m better at it than her.”

  Grace started after JJ before the screen door slammed shut. Noah grabbed her arm. His warm touch stopped her cold. “Don’t,” he said. “Give him a little more time. He’s acknowledged your existence. Baby steps.”

  Grace nodded. He had more experience, and more patience, with JJ. She’d clearly made a mess of things on her own.

  “Come on, let’s milk.” Noah held open the door. “The trick,” he said, as they walked to the goat stalls, “is how you talk to them.”

  “You talk to them while you’re squeezing their teats? About what?”

  Noah shrugged. “Anything. Or I just sing. It calms them, makes them milk faster, I think.”