Her hand shook a little as she poured fresh coffee for Heather and Vance. She’d offered to rustle up some supper for them, but they’d demurred, said they’d already eaten on the way.
“Just so happens,” Vance drawled, rubbing the top of Alec’s stubbly head with his knuckles, “that we brought presents.”
Irritation swamped Briana, made her nerve endings twitch. Presents? Vance didn’t even pay his child support most of the time. He didn’t buy the shoes and jeans and T-shirts the boys were constantly outgrowing. He didn’t even send birthday cards.
How could he manage presents?
But, then, presents made him look good. He evidently regarded thankless necessities as her responsibility.
Alec brightened at the mention of gifts, of course, and even Josh seemed intrigued.
“They’re in the van,” Vance said. “What do you say we go unload them?” He turned, smiled easily at Josh. “We could use your help.”
Alec was already on his feet and racing for the door. Josh followed, but only after a silent signal from Briana.
Vance got up, too, and the three of them went outside.
Heather shifted nervously in her chair. “We got them bicycles,” she said shyly. “Found them at a garage sale in a little town outside of Vegas, but Vance fixed them up and they look like new.”
Briana’s heart did a slippery little sidestep. Bicycles. The boys had been asking for bikes every Christmas and every birthday for years. She’d never managed to come up with the money. How ironic was it that Vance would be the one to make that old and persistent dream come true?
“You don’t mind, do you?” Heather asked.
Briana blinked, confused. “Mind?”
“That Vance brought me here. We won’t be staying long—just ‘til tomorrow afternoon.”
Briana did mind, actually, but she wasn’t mean enough to say so to Heather. The woman was scared to death.
Outside, Alec shouted with joy.
The bikes had been unveiled, then.
“Where will you be going next?” Briana asked, just to make conversation.
The bombshell, when it dropped, took Briana completely by surprise. “Oh, we’re planning to stay right here in Stillwater Springs,” Heather said brightly. “Vance hit a royal flush on a poker machine in Vegas the other day, and he said it was a sign from God that we ought to settle down someplace.” Probably privy to the child-support situation, Vance’s bride blushed and bit down hard on her plump lower lip. “It isn’t a lot,” she hastened to add, “but there’s enough to pay rent and a cleaning deposit, and keep going until we both get jobs.”
“There aren’t a lot of those around Stillwater Springs,” Briana said, feeling dizzy. Life. It could go along the same for years, then make a sudden one-eighty. “Jobs, I mean.”
Heather contradicted her immediately. “We stopped at the auto repair place in town to get some new spark plugs,” she said, “and there was a Help Wanted sign taped to the door. They need a mechanic, and Vance is a good one. The man asked him to come by tomorrow for an interview.”
Briana resisted an urge to close her eyes and shake her head. Vance, living in Stillwater Springs? Actually working nine to five instead of following the rodeo?
Alec would be thrilled. Josh would probably adjust.
But everything would change.
Everything.
Briana was still processing the news when Vance appeared in the open doorway, standing on the back porch. In the glow of the outside light, he looked the same as always—and different.
Had he found religion, or something?
If she circled his van, would she find a Honk if You Love Jesus sticker on the bumper?
“Come see the bikes,” he said.
Briana had no idea whether he was addressing her or Heather or both of them. But she waited until he and Heather were outside before following to stand on the porch.
Alec and Josh were riding around in wide, wobbly circles on their “new” bikes.
“Picked it up pretty fast,” Vance said proudly, looking on.
The boys had ridden other kids’ bikes whenever they got the chance, but it had been a while. Evidently, riding a bike really was something you never totally forgot how to do.
“I’ve got something for you, too, Bree,” Vance told her.
Heather headed for the van to fetch her overnight case.
“What?” Briana asked warily.
Vance steered her back inside, and they stood in the kitchen, momentarily alone. He took out his wallet and counted several crisp one-hundred-dollar bills into her hand.
She stared.
“Child support,” Vance said.
“Oh,” Briana said, stunned. Knowing Vance, he’d probably want to borrow it back before the weekend was out. The bank was open Saturdays until noon, though, and she intended to be there when they unlocked the doors the next morning. “Th-thanks.”
“That makes us square, doesn’t it?” Vance asked, watching her closely.
What did he expect? Tears of gratitude? Maybe that she’d drop to the floor and wrap her arms around his knees, weeping with joy and relief? He’d owed her this money, and taken his sweet time paying up.
“Thanks,” she repeated, hastily folding the bills, tucking them into the pocket of her work slacks. “Yes. It makes us square.” For now. “Heather says you’re planning to stay on in Stillwater Springs.”
Vance nodded, cast a sidelong glance out the door. Something moved in his face as he watched the boys trying out their bikes, an emotion Briana had never seen there before.
“I blew it with Alec and Josh, and with you,” he said, without meeting her eyes. “I still have a chance with my kids.”
Briana’s throat felt as if she’d swallowed a boulder. When she could speak, she said, “Don’t get their hopes up, Vance. Don’t make them think you’re going to stay and be part of their lives, okay?”
Before Vance could do more than look at her, with the expression of a man who’d just been slapped across the face, Heather was back, lugging in her overnight bag and her bulky purse.
“Would it be all right if I took a bath?” she asked Briana.
“Sure,” Briana said, but she was still looking at Vance.
He moved past her to the porch, told the boys to put their bikes next to the house and come on in.
Instead, they wheeled them up the steps and parked them in the kitchen.
Briana shut the door slowly, her gaze going from boy to boy, and bike to bike. Even Josh looked cautiously delighted, and Alec was glowing.
“They might get stolen if we leave them outside,” Alec said. He had the red bike; the handlebars gleamed, and the paint job looked fresh. Josh’s blue bike had metallic flakes in the paint, and racing stripes.
“Put them in the utility room for now,” Briana said. “And be careful not to scratch the washer and dryer.”
Her sons nodded and wheeled the bikes out of the kitchen.
After that, things got awkward again.
Heather said she was tired, after her bath, and made out the couch bed to crawl in.
The boys sat at the table, all ears while Vance brought them up to speed on his latest adventures. He’d met Heather in Butte, he said, at a rodeo, and he’d known it was love. Married her before he left town.
Inwardly, Briana sighed.
Josh still looked careful; he was holding back. Two years older than his brother, he’d had more experience with Vance and his high-flown promises, but the bike had gotten to him a little, too. Briana could see that he wanted to believe in Vance, and didn’t quite dare.
Alec’s heart was wide open. All was clearly forgiven—not that he’d ever really held a grudge against his dad. He’d always seen something in Vance that eluded Briana.
“We’ll get you some groceries tomorrow,” Vance told her quietly, well after midnight, when he’d herded Alec and Josh to their room and maybe even tucked them in.
Had he heard a word she’d said, about getting thei
r hopes up?
Did he have the first clue how crushed they’d be when he broke his word, the way he always did?
“Sure,” Briana said. “Good.”
Vance crossed the room, took her shoulders in his hands, turned her from the sink, where she’d been filling the coffeepot for morning, and looked down into her eyes.
Briana shrugged free, moved just out of his reach.
In the living room, Heather either slept blissfully away on the Hide-A-Bed or lay wide-awake, listening.
“Briana, I was just—” Vance’s voice sounded gruff, weary. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”
“You could have mentioned Heather on the phone, Vance. Given me a chance to prepare the boys.”
“The boys,” Vance said, as a muscle bunched in his square jaw, “seem to be handling it fine. And this is the kind of thing a man has to do in person, not over the telephone.”
Briana looked away. Didn’t speak. If Vance thought she was upset because he’d remarried, she’d die of mortification.
“I’d better turn in,” Vance told her. “Good night, Bree.”
Briana still didn’t speak, still didn’t meet his gaze. She just nodded.
Vance headed for the living room, murmured something husbandly to Heather, who sighed sleepily and murmured something back.
Good God, Briana thought, diving for the doorway to her room, Wanda close on her heels, they aren’t going to have sex, are they?
If they did, she sure as hell didn’t want to know.
After changing into a cotton nightgown and sneaking down the hall to use the bathroom, barely able to keep from covering her ears with both hands lest she hear something embarrassing, she dashed back to her room and turned the radio on low.
Wanda, curled up in her usual spot on the mattress, buttressed against the headboard, gave her a curious look, yawned and settled down to sleep.
Briana snuggled in, too, but sleep escaped her, tired as she was.
Besides the fact that the boys might hear any hankypanky that went on, did she really give a damn if Vance and the missus made love?
No.
Then what was the problem?
She tossed onto one side, then the other. A smoky voice flowed out of the radio, singing the kind of song that made a woman want a man, a glass of wine and candlelight.
Briana stretched to crank the dial to another station.
Hog futures. That was it.
Nothing romantic about hog futures.
Whatever the heck they were.
A soft knock sounded at Briana’s door.
She sat up, yanked the covers to her chin. “Yes?”
The door creaked open, and Josh stood in the opening. She could almost see him growing out of his pajamas.
“Can I sleep in here?”
She usually discouraged that, but the look on Josh’s face gave her pause. “What’s the matter, honey? Did you have a bad dream?”
Josh nodded, gulped. “I dreamed Dad took us away. I couldn’t remember your cell-phone number, because it’s new and—” “Shh,” Briana said, patting Wanda’s side of the bed.
Accommodatingly, the dog moved to the foot of the mattress, so Josh could crawl in beside Briana.
“I’m too big to be sleeping with my mom,” Josh lamented.
“Once won’t hurt,” Briana said.
“Is it okay to be happy about the bike?”
Briana’s eyes stung. “Yeah. It’s okay.”
“Do you think he’ll make us call Heather ‘Mom’?”
“It’s up to you what you call Heather, as long as you’re respectful,” Briana said carefully. The thought of Alec or Josh addressing another woman as Mom settled into her heart like an anvil, but she was determined to be fair.
On top of that, she sort of—well—liked Heather.
Josh lay there for a while, silent in the spill of light from the bedside lamp and the soft drone of the radio. Then he said, “How come you’re listening to the farm report?”
The announcer was saying there would be a big stock sale in Choteau the next day as Briana smiled and shut it off.
“I just wanted sound,” she said.
“Oh,” Josh said, sitting up and throwing back the covers. “I think I’m okay now,” he told her.
“Good,” Briana said, watching as he left the room, headed for his own bed. Wanda nonchalantly reclaimed her place on the other pillow.
Briana turned the light switch, and the room went dark.
“WHAT I NEED,” Logan told Sidekick, watching through the windshield of his pickup as a second construction crew swarmed over the barn first thing the next morning, “is a horse.”
Sidekick didn’t venture an opinion, one way or the other. He was probably hoping for a fastfood breakfast in town, or another visit from Alec and Josh and Wanda.
“Yes, sir,” Logan repeated, mostly because he wanted to hear somebody’s voice, even if it was his own, “I surely do need a horse.”
He’d already been to check out the work on the new pasture fence. The workmen were a little scared of Cimarron, but so far, the old bull had kept his distance, eyeing the proceedings from a copse of birch trees and only pawing the ground once or twice. Short of drugging the critter and shipping him someplace for the duration, working around him seemed the most viable option.
So far, so good.
The barn wouldn’t be fit to house any horses for a week or two, at the least, but there was a stock auction going on over in Choteau, twenty miles away, and Logan couldn’t resist going.
As a kid, and later, in the rodeo, he’d ridden a lot. Jake had kept two old nags, Shadow and Dynamite, and he and Dylan and Tyler had virtually grown up on their backs. Logan smiled, remembering how it always pissed off Tyler that he had to ride double with either Logan or Dylan. He’d hated being the youngest, hated always having to follow when he wanted to lead.
Shadow and Dynamite had both died of old age long ago, but the loss seemed fresh that morning, as if they ought to have been waiting at the corral gate, ready to be saddled for the day.
Logan swallowed the lump in his throat and shifted the truck into gear. He could sit around here all day, crying in his beer, or he could make something happen.
He damn near hit Alec and Josh at the base of the driveway, where the top of the old gate still hung by the same three links of chain. They whizzed past on bicycles while he slammed on the brakes, simultaneously stretching out an arm to keep Sidekick from crashing into the windshield.
Alec and Josh slowed, made a wide loop in the road.
His heart pounding, Logan breathed deep as he rolled the window down. “You might want to be a little more careful in the future,” he said.
“Sorry,” Josh told him.
Alec’s grin went from ear to ear. “We got new bikes!” he crowed.
Logan chuckled. “I see that,” he said. “Way cool.”
“Our dad bought them at a garage sale,” Josh explained.
Their dad. It was a perfectly normal thing for a man to visit his kids, buy them bicycles. So why did he feel like dropping in on Briana so he could size up the situation?
The situation, whatever it might be, was none of his damn business.
“Does your mom know you guys are out here?” he asked, recalling the dustup the day before over their coming to town with him.
“She was going to take the day off from work,” Alec said, “but Dad’s watching us, so she went in after all. After Dad’s job interview, he’s taking us to look at a rental he saw in the newspaper.”
It was a lot of information to take in and sort out, but Logan had had three cups of strong coffee that morning, so the mental cogs were working fine. “Where’s your dad now?” he asked, just as a tall man rounded the bend on foot. He wore old boots, jeans and a blue chambray shirt, Western cut.
Alec cocked a thumb. “That’s him,” he said proudly.
Logan worked up a smile, got out of the truck.
“This is our neighbor,
Logan Creed,” Josh told his father. “He came to supper at our place night before last.”
“Did he now?” The other man’s blue gaze took Logan in as they shook hands. “Vance Grant,” he said. “Good to meet you.”
Logan merely nodded. Grant didn’t like it that he’d paid a social visit to his ex-wife, Logan could see that. There was a chill of suspicion in those icy eyes.
“I’ll be around from now on,” Vance said. “If that makes a difference to you.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, conscious of the boys standing nearby, with their new bikes, listening. “Should it?” he asked evenly.
Vance’s grin didn’t make it to his eyes. Before he could respond, somebody’s cell phone rang.
Josh quickly extracted a model one step up from a toss-away out of his jeans pocket and answered.
“It’s Mom,” he told the assembled crowd, with a roll of his eyes, though Logan could tell he felt important. “Yes, Dad’s here—he’s with us, Mom. So is Logan.” A pause. “Heather was still asleep when we left the house.”
Who the hell, Logan wondered, was Heather?
“We ought to head home now,” Vance said, as Josh hung up the cell phone, held it out of Alec’s reach for a few seconds, then put it back in his pocket. “We’re due in town in half an hour.”
Alec and Josh both said goodbye and pedaled back toward Dylan’s place. Logan got into his truck, the window still down, and Vance lingered a moment.
“My boys,” he said, “have a dad.”
Logan felt his ears burn. He’d had supper at Briana’s once, and taken Alec and Josh to town the day before to have lunch and, as it turned out, wait for their mother. Did this yahoo think he was moving in on his turf or something?
The kids were definitely Vance’s; they looked just like him.
But Briana wasn’t his wife. Where she was concerned, turf wasn’t an issue.
“Look,” Logan said, resting his arm on the window ledge and gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly with the other hand, “we just met, so I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and not assume you’re a prickly son of a bitch with a chip on your shoulder. Alec and Josh are nice kids. You’re lucky to have them.”
Vance huffed out a breath, relaxed a little. Took off his hat to shove a hand through his hair, half turned to follow the boys and then turned back again. “I guess I am a little prickly,” he admitted. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m trying to set things right. That’s going to take some doing and the plain truth is, I don’t need any competition just now.”
Montana Creeds: Logan Page 11
