The Cowboy's Comeback (Montana Mavericks: What Happened To Beatrix? Book 2)

by Melissa Senate

  “I want to find out if there’s an opening for Robby for the rest of the month so that Holt can concentrate on the ranch,” Neal explained. “With the day camp not willing to take him anymore, Holt’s out of options. He already went through about five sitters who all quit and said Robby was just too much.”

  Amanda frowned. Granted, she hadn’t spent a ton of time with Robby, but certainly enough to know the boy was just very energetic and curious and easily distracted. Robby had a good heart and understood right and wrong. He just needed to be around adults who knew how to channel that energy and curiosity. Tender Years was an excellent daycare with warm and experienced teachers; Robby would fit in well here from what Amanda had seen over the past year. “I didn’t realize Holt was looking for a slot here for Robby. I can introduce you to Lucinda—”

  “Oh, I haven’t talked to Holt yet,” Neal said. “I figured I’d find out if there was an opening and offer to pay the monthly cost to sway Holt to enroll Robby.”

  Amanda was sure her face registered her surprise—and alarm. “You mean you’re here because you want Robby in daycare?”

  “That’s right. Full time till school starts up at the end of the month. Robby’s a great kid, but he needs more structured activity and direction. Right now, with camps no longer an option, Deborah is watching Robby while Holt works, and granted, his uncles also help out, but wouldn’t the boy be happier with scheduled activities and kids his own age? I thought I’d just see if there’s an opening and then talk to Holt about it.”

  Amanda doubted Holt would want to put his son in daycare. She knew how much he valued the boy being around family for the rest of the summer.

  “Anyway,” Neal continued. “As I said, I’m just seeing if there’s an opening. No harm in that.”

  But there was. And would be.

  “May I help you, sir?”

  Amanda turned and there was Lucinda, extending her hand toward Neal.

  “Ah, Mr. Dalton, right? I believe I met you and your wife at a fund-raising dinner for the ranchers’ association a couple months ago. You own Dalton’s Grange, right? What a grand and gorgeous property. And you have all those handsome sons.”

  Neal took off his Stetson and shook her hand. “That’s right. And a very energetic grandson who could use a place here, if there’s an opening.”

  “I have an opening for a full-time or two part-time attendees,” Lucinda said. “Come to my office and we’ll discuss.”

  Neal put his hat back on, then tipped it at Amanda. “Nice seeing you again.”

  Amanda managed a smile and swallowed.

  This was not going to end well.

  * * *

  Holt spent most of the morning herding cattle—one of his favorite jobs on the ranch—into a farther pasture, then helped his brother Morgan go over inventory, and now, fortified by two strong cups of coffee, it was time to find his dad and have that talk. He’d been looking for Neal Dalton all morning but hadn’t seen him anywhere. He tried the main barn again, and there his dad was with his usual clipboard, flipping pages of his to-do list in one hand, his travel mug of coffee in the other.

  Holt took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Glad I found you, Dad. I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

  Neal took a long sip of his coffee. “Well, you found me.” He looked up at Holt as if bracing himself. His dad clearly knew Holt wouldn’t let go of what happened last night with Robby.

  But before Holt could launch into the sort of speech he’d prepared in his head but had already gotten jumbled, his dad spoke.

  “So is this Amanda your girlfriend?” Neal asked.

  I wish, Holt thought, the words coming quicker than he could deny them to himself.

  Luckily, Holt didn’t have to respond because his father quickly added, “I ran into her this morning. I was walking in, she was walking out. Small world.”

  He ran into Amanda? “Walking out of where?” he asked, figuring his dad was at the coffee shop.

  “Tender Years Daycare,” Neal said. “She does marketing work for the place.”

  Holt stared at his father, feeling his eyes narrow. “Why were you there?”

  Neal took another swig of coffee. “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Turns out the daycare has a full-time slot open. Robby could start tomorrow and stay until school starts. The boy could use some structure the next few weeks.”

  Whoa. Overstepping much? “Between his grandmother and his uncles, he has plenty of structure. His relatives enjoy spending time with him.” He emphasized the word relatives, feeling his eyes narrow on his father even more.

  Neal Dalton lifted his chin. “I know they do. I do too. I love Robby, Holt. But he’s a whirlwind. Just think about the idea of the daycare—that’s all I’m asking.”

  “I won’t think about it,” Holt said. “I have a good arrangement the next few weeks with Mom and my brothers watching Robby when I can’t. We all planned it that way together, so they’d get to spend some real time with him this summer. I can hire a sitter now and again.”

  “The last few refused to come back,” Neal reminded him.

  “So I’ll find someone else. I’m going to do what feels right to me, Dad. End of story.”

  “You were always unnecessarily stubborn,” Neal said. “Amazing that that lovely young woman still likes you from when you knew her ten years ago.” He tried to add a smile to show he was kidding, but Holt knew his dad wasn’t joking in the slightest.

  Holt crossed his arms over his chest. “Why wouldn’t she?”

  “Come on, Holt. Getting into trouble. Arrested twice for stupid stuff you shouldn’t have been doing.”

  “That was a long time ago,” he said, turning away.

  “Look, Holt, I don’t want trouble between us. That’s the last thing I want. It means the world to me that you’re here at Dalton’s Grange with Robby. You know that. I’m just saying that my grandson—and I love that boy like mad—is a lot like you were at his age. Rein in him now and save yourself problems down the road.”

  A hot flash of anger burned red in Holt’s gut. “Oh, so now Robby’s a juvenile delinquent in the making?”

  “He needs structure, Holt. Plain and simple. More than baking cookies with Gram or mucking out the calf stalls for twenty minutes with your uncles.”

  “I think I know what my son needs, Dad.”

  “Why don’t you ask that nice Amanda her opinion,” Neal said. “She knows you from back when you used to be a troublemaker headed down the wrong path. That’s why she’s so understanding about Robby. She clearly sees you in him.” Neal Dalton nodded as if doubly agreeing with himself, flipped through his clipboard a couple times, then glanced at Holt. “She’ll tell you structure is a good thing for a rowdy child. I was too lenient with you and I regret it. That’s what this is all about.”

  Holt felt like a character from the animated TV show his son loved, about a bull with a temper who always had locomotive steam coming out of his ears.

  “What Robby needs,” Holt said through gritted teeth, “is love and guidance and supportive people around him. You are way too hard on him. He’s seven years old. He’s a good kid, but yes, he makes mistakes. Yes, he talks too much and too loud, he runs when he should walk, he’s impulsive. But the way you bark at him doesn’t change his behavior.”

  Neal frowned. “I don’t mean to bark. But sometimes I can’t help it.”

  “Well guess what? Neither can Robby. He needs to be around his family right now—that’s what I believe. I like the arrangement as it is, with me, his mom and his uncles watching him the rest of the month. I’m not sending him to Tender Years, wonderful as the place may be. End of discussion.”

  Holt was more than done with this conversation.

  “Hey, Neal,” a deep voice said from outside. “Got a sec to talk about where you want the shipment
of hay bales coming in at noon?”

  Holt glanced out the barn doors. Brody Colter, one of the ranch hands, was standing there, looking at Neal expectantly.

  “Sure thing,” Neal said to the guy. “Stubborn,” he tossed at Holt, shaking his head as he walked out with his clipboard and his thermos.

  Like father, like son, he wanted to call after him.

  Chapter Seven

  At a few minutes before five o’clock, Amanda pulled up in the drive at Holt’s beautiful cabin. She could see Robby throwing a ball in a large fenced pasture at the side of the house, Bentley racing to get it, his furry tail wagging in the breeze.

  Holt threw another ball to Robby, who couldn’t catch it, but the smiling boy didn’t seem to mind one bit. He ran after the orange ball, Bentley trying to get it first, and Robby was laughing so hard he dropped to his knees.

  “You’re faster than me, Bentley!” Robby said, giving the dog a rubdown. “I love you so much!”

  Bentley put a paw on Robby’s leg, and the boy was up like a shot, throwing the ball, which the dog went chasing after.

  “Wow,” Amanda said as she approached the fence, her tote bag with her reading supplies on her shoulder. “I knew Bentley was going to a great home, but to see him running around with a happy little boy, chasing balls, well, it warms my heart.”

  Holt nodded. “And they’ll both sleep very well tonight. Not sure about me, though.” His face hardened and he shook his head. “Heard you ran into my dad at a daycare in town.”

  Phew, she thought. On the drive over here, she’d hoped his father had already talked to Holt about that. Because if Neal hadn’t, being here and having all that in her head with Holt none the wiser would have made her feel awful.

  “Yeah,” she said, wincing. “I asked why he was there and he told me. I had a feeling the conversation between you two would not go well.”

  “It didn’t.”

  “How many hours does your mom watch Robby?”

  “Two. Three to five, Monday through Friday. Just for August. Maybe he’s too much on her, even though she’s never said anything. I can hire a sitter so that there’s more back up. Someone with really good references in handling high-energy kids.”

  Amanda bit her lip, working over an idea in her mind. A good idea? Bad idea? You-are-crazy-Amanda idea? She looked at Robby, throwing the ball for Bentley, then trying to race the dog to get it, his laughter a beautiful sound.

  “I’m your gal,” she said with a nod, then felt her cheeks burn. “I mean, I’ll take over that time slot if it turns out your mom does need a break. Robby and I can spend an hour on reading and then an hour on playing with Bentley and Oliver. I can give him some really good training tips.”

  Holt stared at her, his expression a combination of wonder and surprise. “You’d do that? I’d pay you an amazing rate.”

  “Nope,” she said. “I won’t take a penny for helping Robby with reading, and I won’t take a penny for hanging out with him. It’s just three weeks. And to be honest, Holt, I want the experience.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You have plenty of that, though. I’d pay any rate you asked.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t mean experience tutoring. That I’ve got.” She looked away, suddenly not wanting to say it—the reason.

  He tilted his head and looked at her. Waiting.

  She sucked in a breath. “Well, I’ve come to a realization. I want a child. Since that likely won’t happen the traditional way, I’ve been starting to think about adopting as a single mother. I just know I want to be a mother more than anything. And spending some real time with Robby, not in a classroom setting like at school, a couple hours every day will really help me figure things out. Maybe I am meant to adopt an older child.”

  Holt was still staring at her, not saying anything, and she could see he had questions that he hadn’t really formed yet. Same here, guy.

  “What do you mean that it won’t happen the traditional way?” he asked. “Why not?”

  “I told you—I gave up on love and thinking my Mr. Right, the man I’m meant to spend my life with, will come along. I like the idea of adopting an older child who needs a family.”

  Still the dark brown eyes were on her intently. He was taking it all in, she realized. Processing.

  “You gave up on love because of me,” he finally said, grimacing, his head dropping. “I’m so damned sorry, Amanda. If I could—”

  She shook her head. “I kept my more recent past to myself. Two years ago I was engaged to be married and my fiancé left me at the altar. Almost literally. We were in Las Vegas, minutes from our appointment at the wedding chapel.”

  He sucked in a breath. “I’m very sorry.”

  She shrugged. “Like I said, I’m done with love. Romantic love, I mean. But I do want a child. And you need a sitter and I’d like to do my own firsthand research of sorts by spending lots of time with a child.”

  He had that slightly confused look on his face again. The processing.

  “Yay, Amanda’s here!” Robby suddenly said, and she turned toward his voice. He was smiling and waving at her, then kneeled beside Bentley. “Bentley, guess what? Amanda’s gonna teach me to read better.”

  Amanda managed a smile at Robby and waved. She wasn’t sure she could bear to continue this conversation with Holt, so she was glad it had come to an end.

  “Can we continue this conversation after the tutoring session?” he asked. “Or tonight, actually. I’d like to assure us some privacy away from big ears,” he added, upping his chin at Robby.

  “Okay,” she said, answering before her brain had time to process the consequences. Privacy. The two of them, alone. At nighttime. Just what had she gotten herself into here?

  He held her gaze and nodded, then turned toward his son. “Robby, collect the balls and drop them in the bucket by the gate,” he called over to him. “Then we’ll head in to wash up before you start reading time with Amanda.”

  “’Kay, Daddy!” Robby said. “Bentley, come help me. You get that ball and I’ll get this one.” He pointed to the orange ball, and what do you know, the dog picked it up with his mouth and looked at Robby for next steps. Robby gasped. “Daddy, he did what I told him!”

  Holt flashed Robby a thumbs-up. “Like Bentley, like Robby?” he whispered to Amanda with a warm, hopeful smile.

  Robby ran over to the bucket and dropped the ball and pointed to it, and the dog dropped the ball right inside. The boy covered Bentley with hugs and praise.

  “I don’t always make the right choices,” Holt said to Amanda. “But this,” he added, nodding his chin at his son coming out of the gate with Bentley. “I knocked it out of the park.”

  “You sure did,” she agreed.

  Did I make the right choice by suggesting this little arrangement? she wondered. One minute she was resolving to keep an emotional distance from Holt. Now she’d suggested learning about motherhood by spending a lot of quality time with his son.

  Holt glanced over at the gate. “Robby, latch the gate—always, right?” he called.

  “Oh, right, Daddy.” The boy turned back and latched the gate, and they all headed into the cabin.

  Holt told Robby to wash his hands, and the boy scampered off.

  “He and Bentley really are so good together,” Amanda said, needing to keep the subject light right now. “Talk about a bonded pair from the get-go.”

  Holt nodded, his dark eyes so focused on her that she had to look away. She was too aware of him. Tall and strong and masculine, Holt Dalton filled a room, and they were in the small front hall where his presence was overwhelming. In a good way. “So where do want to work with him?”

  “Normally I’d suggest a kitchen table, but I think Robby and I should work in his room. I want him to be at ease, in his element when he reads. And have a dog and cat around for support.”

/>   Again the smile he sent her could warm the coldest heart. “Sounds good. I like how you really seem Robby-focused instead of just reading-focused. I have such a good feeling about this, Amanda. And if I haven’t said how much I appreciate that you’re here, working with him...”

  “It’s my pleasure. Really.” And she meant it.

  Robby returned from the bathroom. “I’m ready to get better at reading now.” He held up his washed hands, which smelled faintly of green apples.

  “Robby, while you and Amanda are reading together,” Holt said, “I’m going to Grams and Gramp’s house to talk to Gram for a bit. I’ll be back very soon.”

  “’Kay, Daddy. Tell them Bentley and Oliver say hi.”

  “And what about you?” Holt asked with a smile.

  “Of course me too, Daddy!” Robby said, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated way at Amanda.

  She laughed. “Let’s go read in your room. Bentley can come too.”

  “Later, guys,” Holt said, and headed out the door.

  Later, guys. Just like he was leaving for a while and coming back to the house they shared...as husband and wife.

  I’m going bonkers, she thought, shaking the wayward thoughts out of her mind as Robby ran upstairs, Bentley on his heels. She’d told herself she could not be having these fantasies about Holt—similar to ones she’d had a long time ago when she really did believe they were headed for marriage and children and forever.

  They hadn’t been then, though. And she’d better remember that they weren’t now either. Or she’d have her heart rehanded to her.

  * * *

  Holt walked the half mile to the main house, barely aware of the breeze he’d normally be grateful for on a warm August afternoon. Amanda had been left at the altar? Who the hell would walk away from—

  He shook his head at himself. You, idiot. That’s who. He’d been young and stupid ten years ago. Two years ago, if she’d been his, he would have picked her up in his arms and run carrying her to that chapel to say I do.