My One and Only Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  The older woman’s gaze turned wistful for a moment. Then she blinked, seemingly bringing Sam and Delaney back into focus.

  “I’ll go get some coffee and let you two get settled in,” she said.

  “It’s just business,” Sam blurted before Pearl turned away. “Delaney and me, I mean. She was passing through, got stranded, so she’s helping me and Ben and Colt put something together for the auction.”

  Pearl smiled. “Sure, honey. Just business. Your secret’s safe with me.” Then she spun on her heel and headed back inside.

  Delaney and Sam sat back down, her worried expression mirroring how he felt.

  “I know to her it looks like we’re—” Delaney said.

  “But we know we’re not,” Sam interrupted.

  “Right.” She picked up her menu.

  Yet what they were or were not seemed to be all that any of them could think about. There was something between him and Delaney. They both admitted as much but also decided not to act on it. Yet here he was, doing some of that procrastinating he’d thought about before. He wasn’t thinking about work or his father or anything other than being in the moment. With her.

  Her eyes darted over the top of her menu, and he realized he was staring.

  “What?” she asked.

  He went for honesty since he really didn’t know any other way. “I guess I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes off you, Vegas.”

  Her cheeks turned crimson, and she went back to studying the menu.

  “We barely know each other anyway,” she said. “It should be easy enough to forget about…you know…and move on. Shouldn’t it? It’s not like we know what we’re missing. Not that I think I’m missing anything.”

  “It should. Like I said, I don’t really look for…” He trailed off and picked up his menu, too, even though he already knew what he wanted. He wasn’t going to say it—the L-word. That wasn’t what was potentially brewing between them. He almost laughed at the impossibility of it. He met her yesterday. Yesterday. When she blew into his office to inform him she owned half his land. “And there’s the whole property situation,” he reminded her. Because it felt as if they both were forgetting a really big obstacle that was already in their way on top of Sam’s personal resolve to fly solo when it came to relationships.

  Still, he couldn’t help himself. He sneaked a peek over the top of her menu to see Delaney worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He almost kissed that lip. And the other one too. All he’d have to do was lean over the table and…

  “Right. You don’t look for…and I didn’t come here to…We’re obviously the wrongest wrong that two people could be,” she said, adjusting herself in her seat, the toe of her boot accidentally nudging his.

  “Sorry!” She straightened in her chair, eyes wide. Had she felt it too? That jolt when her boot hit his that felt anything but wrong?

  He picked up the glass of ice water sitting in front of his place setting and downed it in one long gulp.

  “We should order.” He waved at Pearl, who was greeting another couple who’d just been seated.

  “Yes!” Delaney slammed her menu down on the table in front of her. “Food. Eat. Perfect.”

  Pearl sauntered back over with a knowing grin on her face and a pitcher of water in her hand. “What’ll it be, you two?” She refilled Sam’s glass.

  A room? Sam thought. Or just five minutes alone with the woman I’ve been dying to kiss since yesterday’s storm? They were better off here, with Pearl as their chaperone, but it didn’t change the fact that what Sam wanted to order wasn’t anywhere on the menu.

  “Eggs Benedict!” Delaney blurted, and he guessed her thought process might be similar to his own.

  “Same for me,” Sam said, lifting his glass. “And maybe leave the pitcher.” In case he needed to dump it over his own head.

  “You got it,” Pearl said with a wink.

  It was going to be a long week.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam watched Delaney polish off the last of her eggs. With her mouth still full, she closed her eyes and hummed a soft mmm.

  Sam laughed. “The best, right? Don’t tell Luis I said that, though.”

  Delaney swallowed and held up her right hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise not to tell Luis that you’re cheating on his cooking with Pearl’s. Though if he isn’t putting avocado on his eggs Benedict, someone should tell him. I mean, that was a religious experience.”

  “So is watching you enjoy it.”

  She wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin, then smiled sheepishly. “My mom is an amazing cook. Even when money was tight, she found a way to throw something together that felt decadent, you know? Like chicken potpie made mostly with frozen vegetables and a can of soup. She just had this sort of magic that totally skipped a generation. My sister and I are both the worst in the kitchen. So, I don’t know. I guess good food makes me think of home and family—the stuff I want to have someday.” She laughed. “Also, good food is good food. Did you get your cooking gene from your mom?”

  Sam’s jaw tightened. Aside from the occasional visit, he hadn’t had much of a relationship with his mom since he was a teen. She’d wanted to take him and Ben with her when she left Oak Bluff, but back then he couldn’t imagine leaving the only home he’d ever known. They’d chosen to stay, not knowing then what was in store for their father’s health—for what it might mean for their own futures. And a little part of him always blamed her for that, as if she’d known and had left anyway. She couldn’t have known, but she also could have worked harder to keep him and Ben in her life. She hadn’t.

  He tossed his napkin onto his empty plate, stood, and deposited a pile of bills on the table. “Come on,” he said. “We should get a few more shots while the lighting is still good.”

  He strode toward the indoor portion of the restaurant and then back out onto the inn’s front porch.

  “What the heck was that?” Delaney asked as she burst through the door a few paces behind him. “We were having a lovely conversation about my favorite thing—food—and then you up and leave the table? Did I offend you with my talk of avocado?”

  He blocked out her line of questions and focused solely on the task at hand. He strode down the steps to the sidewalk and then pointed across the street. “I think if we head to the other side, you can get a good angle of the sun coming through the firs. Maybe grab a few more storefronts, and then we can—”

  Delaney ran down the steps, grabbed his still-outstretched arm, and pressed it back to his side. “I’ll get the photos, but first you have to tell me what I said because you’re being weird and standoffish—more so than usual.”

  “Standoffish? When the heck have I ever been—”

  She was smiling triumphantly. “There. See? I broke your train of thought. Now do you maybe want to tell me what set you off back there? If it wasn’t the avocado, then I can only guess it was me mentioning your mom. Was it your mom?”

  He was saved by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Who was calling him so early in the morning? So help him if Ben was trying to get out of leading the trail ride after breakfast, he was going to seriously lose it.

  He answered the phone without looking at the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Callahan, this is Denise Foster from Quincy Long-Term Care. We’re experiencing a situation with your father’s meds and—”

  “I’m on my way,” Sam said. “Be there in ten minutes.”

  He ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

  “We need to go,” he said, then grabbed Delaney’s hand, not caring who was watching. He just needed to get her to the truck. Now.

  She must have read the situation loud and clear because she didn’t ask him any more questions about avocados or his mother or why they were speeding out of town and onto the county road. He was grateful for the silence on the ride as well. He needed to think. Last time his dad wouldn’t take his meds it was because he thought it was twenty ye
ars ago and that he was running late for Ben’s soccer game. Spoiler alert: The man showed up late to every one of their sporting events and sometimes—a majority of the time—not at all. There was always an excuse, just like there were excuses for his infidelity. None of them knew that it all boiled down to Nolan Callahan’s brain rebelling against him. None of them knew anything until their mother left and it was too late to salvage what had once been a happy family.

  Sam barely let his foot off the gas until they pulled into a parking spot, at which time he maybe slammed a bit too hard on the brakes, causing him and Delaney to lurch forward against their seat belts.

  “Well,” Delaney finally said, coughing. “Now I know what getting in a head-on collision might feel like.”

  Sam blew out a shaky breath. “Sorry. Look, I’m not going to be a prick and tell you to wait in the car, but I also don’t really know how to prep you for what you’re going to see in there.”

  Delaney nodded. “Whatever you need, Sam.”

  He hopped out of the truck, then rounded the bed to help Delaney, but she was already slamming her door shut and on her way to join him. She laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a squeeze.

  He didn’t pull away. Together they approached the main entrance of a stucco building that was trying to look like a resort, and for many residents, it was. Dear old Dad, though, liked to shake things up every now and then. Lucky for Sam, today was one of those days.

  He took his hat off as he pushed through the door and nodded at the young man behind the front desk. “Morning, Thaddeus.”

  “Morning, Mr. Callahan. They’re in the game room.”

  Of course they were. Dad couldn’t have a meltdown in private. It had to be with an audience.

  He could hear the yelling as they got closer.

  “You idiots are making me late for a meeting. Do you know I’m the most sought-after breeder in California? Do you know what it will cost me if I don’t land this account?”

  “Mr. Callahan,” he heard someone say. “You can leave for your appointment as soon as you take your meds.”

  Sam steeled himself for whatever he and Delaney were about to see.

  They rounded the corner to a room that was usually warm and inviting—two circular wooden game tables and chairs, two sofas with a rectangular coffee table between them, and a fireplace with a television mounted above the mantel. Whenever Sam came to visit, no matter what time of day it was, the room would be packed with residents enjoying a game of backgammon, euchre, or good old-fashioned Trivial Pursuit. This morning, though, the room must have been cleared out because the only people there were two nurses—and his father standing on top of one of the game tables, holding the Trivial Pursuit board above his head as if it were Thor’s hammer.

  Jacob was the nurse trying to reason with his father while Trish stood behind him readying a syringe.

  “Hey, Dad,” Sam said evenly. “How’s it going?”

  Nolan Callahan directed his attention toward his older son. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t lower the game board.

  “You look like hell, son.”

  Sam let out a bitter laugh. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You have a big exam this week or something? Or did the Everetts’ mare keep everyone up all night again? Your mother said she’s a feisty one.”

  Sam approached the man slowly, leaving Delaney where she stood.

  “No exam this week, Dad. I’m thirty-two now, remember? Ben and I run a ranch just a few miles from here. It’s a tough job getting a new business off the ground. Might be why I look like hell.”

  The man stared long and hard at his son, his brows raising as his confusion morphed to recognition. He lowered the board. “Thirty-two?” He shook his head. “Your mother left when you were fifteen.”

  Sam nodded. “And Ben was thirteen.”

  “We don’t board the horses anymore?” It was half statement, half question.

  “You’re done breeding them too,” Sam said. “You retired and came to live here.”

  Sometimes all it took was a familiar detail to jar Nolan back to the present, and Sam hoped this was working. The last time they had to sedate him, he sat in his room, virtually catatonic, for four hours. No man deserved that.

  “What’s with the medication?” his father asked.

  Sam approached the table slowly and held out a hand for the older man to grab.

  He used to be such an imposing figure, his father. Sometimes he seemed larger than life. But now, as he climbed down with Sam’s assistance, he was just a man—thin but not frail, and barely taller than his son, his once dark hair now salt-and-pepper and in need of a trim.

  “Sometimes you get confused, Dad. Like today. The medication helps with that.”

  Nolan Callahan leaned over and whispered in his son’s ear. “That one behind me—she wants to stick me in the ass with a needle. Hope she’s not disappointed.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re a dirty SOB, you know that?”

  His dad laughed, then held out a palm for the small white cup of pills.

  Maybe Sam didn’t always approve of the man’s methods, but he liked seeing his father laugh. Nolan’s illness robbed him of his marriage and his ability to take care of himself. Sam wanted some semblance of happiness for him, but if he didn’t keep up with his medication, he’d only deteriorate.

  The older man tossed the pills into his mouth, then held out a hand for the accompanying cup of water, draining the whole thing in one long gulp as he washed the meds down.

  “Okay,” Nolan said with a grin. “How about we bust out of here and grab a couple of longnecks?”

  Sam’s heart squeezed so tight it hurt. “It’s not even ten a.m., Dad. And drinking is probably not the best idea right now.”

  Nolan waved him off. “Live a little, Sammy. Barbara Ann and I are always talking about how we wish you’d do more of that.”

  Sam’s brows drew together. He’d thought his father had come back to the present, but if he was remembering conversations with Sam and Ben’s mom, Nolan wasn’t quite here yet.

  “Mom’s in Tahoe, remember?” Sam said.

  “Yeah, yeah. Tahoe. That’s right,” Nolan said. “Fine. No longnecks. What do you say, then? You and your pretty friend over there want to stay for a game? Already got the board out.”

  And as if he hadn’t been standing on top of a table ninety seconds ago threatening to bludgeon his nurses with a Trivial Pursuit board, Nolan Callahan was ready to get back to his regularly scheduled programming.

  Sam gave his father a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “Sure, Dad. But maybe something a little simpler. How about Uno?”

  His father looked at the game board in his hands and shrugged. “Your mother loves Uno. Maybe she’ll want to join. We can always use a fourth.” He looked around for the woman Sam knew wasn’t there. This was how it went sometimes—lucid one minute and living in the past the next. And despite Nolan Callahan having been a crappy husband before anyone knew he was ill, it still killed Sam to see the hope in his father’s eyes—the hope Sam always had to crush whenever the man forgot what had happened over fifteen years ago.

  “Ma’s not here, Dad. Remember? She moved to Carson City to be near her sister, and then she met Ted. Lake Tahoe?”

  Delaney was standing next to him now, and she placed a hand on Sam’s forearm. “I’m sorry, Sam,” she said softly. “You should have told me to wait in the car. I had no idea—”

  “Ted,” Sam’s father said, more to himself than anyone else. “Ted from Tahoe. Ted. From. Tahoe.” He shook his head, then looked at Sam with dawning realization. “She left when you were fifteen,” he said once more, and Sam nodded. “But she still loves Uno when I see her.”

  “You’re right, Dad. Mom has always loved Uno.”

  He and Ben had only seen their mother a handful of times since she moved out. Lake Tahoe was almost a seven-hour drive from their hometown of Oak Bluff, which had made regular visits difficult. Now that he
and Ben had moved closer, Sam thought they’d see her more often. But the physical distance had forged an emotional one that felt too hard to travel. She’d come out to see the ranch a couple of times, and he and Ben went to Tahoe once or twice as well. But their relationship with her now was more like that of distant cousins, and even though his father was right here, it was as if he were a million miles away. Nolan’s illness changed everything about their family, and since coming to Meadow Valley, Sam was finally accepting that he couldn’t get any of it back.

  “I’ll wait in the lobby,” Delaney said, her hand still on his arm. “Take all the time you need.”

  Nolan’s head shot up, his eyes on the young woman next to his son. “I thought we were playing Uno. You can’t play with just two people. The game’ll be over in minutes.”

  Delaney stared at Sam for several long seconds. She’d seen the worst of the episode. A quick game of Uno couldn’t make things any worse.

  “Stay,” Sam finally said to her, his voice low and his throat dry. He thanked the medical staff, and they left the room, trusting that Nolan was no longer a threat to himself or anyone else.

  “I have to warn you, though,” he added. “My father is ruthless when it comes to laying down the Draw Four cards.”

  Sam’s father tossed the Trivial Pursuit game board back in its box, then snagged a deck of Uno cards from a nearby game shelf.

  The three of them sat around the table Nolan had been standing on only minutes before, and he shuffled and dealt the cards with the precision of a Vegas dealer.

  “I’m Nolan Callahan, by the way,” he said to Delaney after setting the extra cards down in a pile in the center of the table. “Sam didn’t tell me he was seeing anyone.”

  “Delaney Harper,” she said, shaking his hand. “And Sam and I just work together.”

  “She does some marketing for the ranch,” Sam added. “I don’t mix business and pleasure.” The second sentence came out with more bite than he’d intended. Sometimes immature, resentful teenage Sam forgot that Nolan’s behavior all those years ago was a result of the early-onset dementia. Sometimes he wanted to still be the innocent kid instead of having the roles reversed.