Aiming for the Cowboy

by Mary Leo

  First she’d tell him about his hat, which she noticed as soon as he walked in. And yes, it was a great hat, cream-colored, that sat on his head just perfectly and made his eyes look even bluer than they were naturally.

  She screwed up her courage, turned to Colt, took a deep breath, thought about how to open the conversation by telling him about his great hat, when Buddy suddenly looked at them.

  “Are you going to move back to Briggs with your new sheep herder husband once your baby cooks? If you do, can we come over for more nights like this? You make the best hot chocolate ever!”

  Buddy never did share that gentle persuasion trait. Unfortunately, he was more like Helen.

  Colt nearly choked on his beer, while Helen didn’t move or blink—more of the deer in the headlights phenomenon.

  “I...um...” she finally said, but couldn’t quite finish her thought.

  “Buddy, what kind of... You... Huh? That makes no sense.” Colt shifted forward, struggling for words.

  Buddy’s forehead furrowed.

  Gavin chimed in. “But, Daddy, Nathan Haug told us his older sister told him that Helen’s got a baby in the oven and a reluctant husband on the lamb. Nathan can’t tell a lie or his mom will wash his mouth out with girlie soap and he hates the taste of girlie soap.”

  The music from the movie pulsed in Helen’s ears. It seemed dark and ominous. Just what she didn’t need.

  “Well, I...” She couldn’t seem to form the right words.

  That was the problem; she didn’t know what words to form. Never in a million years did she think Colt’s boys would put it all out on the table.

  “You boys shouldn’t be listening to such things. That’s gossip and gossip is usually a tangle of misconceptions. Now watch your movie. Helen did a lot for us tonight and we don’t want to be rude by asking her a lot of questions.”

  “I didn’t mean to be rude,” Buddy said. “I just wanted to know if we could still come over.”

  “What are you going to name your baby?” Gavin wanted to know.

  Suddenly Joey was awake, rubbing his eyes and asking his own questions. “When will it be ready to come out of the oven? I like babies. They’re funny.”

  “Now you boys just settle down.” He turned to Helen, a great big smile on his face. “This town sure does like to stir things up. You better set these boys straight before they spread their own tales about your baby.”

  “Sounds as if they need a crash course on where babies come from first,” Helen said.

  “They’ve seen enough calves get born on the ranch to know babies don’t bake in ovens,” Colt said, giving his boys a fatherly look.

  “That’s what I told Nathan, but he said a mother’s belly is like an oven and when the baby’s cooked it pops out.”

  “That’s not exactly how it works,” Colt said, sliding to the edge of the sofa, looking uncomfortable with the discussion.

  “Well, then, how does it work?” Gavin asked, his little face filled with anticipation.

  Colt’s eyes widened as he turned toward Helen, obviously seeking help in the matter.

  She grinned, glad the weight of the moment had fallen on Colt’s shoulders and not hers. “Don’t look at me,” she told him. “I’m just an oven.”

  Chapter Four

  On the road home from spending the evening with Helen, Colt had tried his best to explain to his boys where babies actually came from. He stopped and started so many times though, eventually, Joey fell asleep again, Gavin plugged in his earbuds to listen to a story on his e-reader and Buddy lost interest. All in all, Colt was glad he’d gotten through that night without it being a complete catastrophe.

  Now as he and his boys made their way up to his dad’s front porch for Sunday dinner, his mind churned with unanswered questions about Helen.

  He still didn’t know what she had wanted to talk to him about, but figured it must have something to do with her baby, maybe about the father and her plans for the future. Whatever the topic, he had to admit it felt good just being around her again. She was like a cool drink of water on a hot day, and he wished he could spend more evenings drinking her in. Colt liked having her in town. She had a calming effect on him and his boys that he liked and they needed. Plus, he still couldn’t get their lovemaking out of his head. Maybe it was wrong of him, seeing as how she was pregnant with another man’s baby, but where the heck was that other man? Did the guy even know she was carrying his child? And what happened between them to make her move in with her parents?

  What he didn’t understand was how she could have made love to him when she was also fooling around with some other dude. That kind of rash behavior wasn’t something he would have expected of her and it made him about as sorrowful as a bloodhound that lost its trail.

  The more Colt was reminded of her, the more questions popped up unanswered. He knew this was all Helen’s business and not his, but dang it all if he wasn’t falling for her when clear thinking told him to back away.

  He decided he needed to do exactly that...back away, before he couldn’t help himself. Not only would he for sure get his heart broken when the child’s daddy came back into the picture, but he had a deep fear of dangerous complications during a pregnancy. Consciously he knew this was an overreaction to his wife’s passing soon after Joey was born. Nevertheless, he couldn’t live with it if he allowed Helen to capture his heart only to lose her if her pregnancy took a fatal turn.

  On several levels, allowing himself to fall for Helen was like grabbing the branding iron on the wrong end.

  Colt donned his best happy face as he stared down at his boys. Joey was feeling much better after sleeping for most of Saturday, and it seemed as though his brothers didn’t catch whatever cold bug he’d been suffering from. Plus, Colt had been putting in a lot of hours on the ranch and neglecting his boys, so he wanted to make it up to them.

  “If you boys behave tonight, I’ll take you out to play some video games after dinner.”

  Colt usually didn’t believe in bribing his boys, but these were desperate times.

  “We’ll be good, Daddy. We promise,” Gavin said.

  “Yeah, we won’t even laugh if you don’t want us to,” Joey added.

  “It’s not about laughing. It’s about causing a fuss.”

  “Good thing Gramps doesn’t have any baby piggies or we might never get to play a video game again for as long as we live,” Joey said.

  “You sure got that right, little man,” Colt said as he picked up Joey and gave him a twirl. Then he held him upside down as he walked up the front porch stairs, all the while Joey couldn’t stop laughing. His other two boys tickled Joey’s belly. Complete chaos ensued as they all stumbled up the stairs.

  The redwood log house was big, and old, and needed work, but Colt and his brothers wouldn’t trade it for a castle. This was their home, their heritage, their land, and nothing would ever change that.

  Buddy opened the front door and Colt and his boys tumbled inside, making more noise than a herd of cattle. Joey let out one of his sweet belly laughs and Colt couldn’t help but laugh out loud along with him. Colt put Joey down and closed the door just as Scout, his brother Blake’s six-year-old daughter, came running over to join in on the laughter. She wore her usual jeans, a pink T-shirt and her latest pair of red cowgirl boots. The big difference in Scout was that ever since Blake had married Maggie, Scout was more little girl than little tomboy. She had taken on more boy traits than girl traits soon after Blake split with his wife and she moved to L.A. Blake hadn’t known how to handle a little girl. After all, he was surrounded by boys, but Maggie knew exactly what to do. Now Scout seemed to be the perfect blend. She could stand up to her male cousins with bows in her hair and bright pink polish on her fingernails. “We’ve got company again tonight,” she said, looking all proud of herself for being th
e first to announce it. “And she brought homemade pie and ice cream. You want to see the pie? She’s making it warm in the oven.”

  She took Joey’s hand and the two of them ran toward the kitchen. Gavin and Buddy followed close behind.

  Colt’s apprehension heightened. He guessed one of his brother’s must’ve fixed him up with yet another woman...a woman who could bake.

  “About time you showed up,” Dodge said as Colt ambled toward the long wooden table that was already set with their mom’s mustard-colored Fiesta ware. Mom had passed when he and Travis were still in their teens, but Dodge liked to set the table on Sundays exactly like she had when she was alive.

  Sunday dinner always featured some type of potato from their most recent crop. No other potato but their own was ever allowed in the main Granger house. Dodge had laid down that law years ago and it stuck. This harvest would produce their first crop of Fingerlings, including Purple Peruvian. Colt had also put in a few acres of Yukon Golds and Gems. He had to argue with Dodge for those crops. Dodge believed in exclusively growing Russets, but, after much debate, Colt had convinced him to try other types of potatoes. Harvest had already begun on some of those crops and so far they looked good, but Dodge was still skeptical about Colt’s “experiment,” as he liked to call it, and only served up pure Russet potatoes in his house.

  “Dinner’s almost ready. Take your seats,” Dodge ordered as he set a large platter of scalloped potatoes on the table next to a rack of perfectly cooked lamb. Colt’s boys, Scout and the two ranch dogs, siblings Suzie and Mush, part wolf with other parts unknown, hustled together in a great stampede of miniature cowboy boots and heavy paws, pounding across the wooden floor toward the table.

  “Glad you could make it,” Blake told Colt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been avoiding us.”

  This was the first Sunday in two weeks that Colt had made it over for dinner. His boys never missed a Sunday because most of the time they’d been hanging around at Dodge’s house, but Colt had been way too busy with the harvest and ranch duties to make it over for dinner. Truth be told, he purposely stayed away knowing full well what his brothers were up to, and tonight seemed to be no exception.

  “Just be glad Colt’s here,” Maggie said, looking like the country girl Blake had known was hidden behind her city swagger. Ever since she’d become a member of the family, she’d taken to ranch life. Her black hair was usually pulled back into an easy ponytail, makeup on that pretty face seemed almost nonexistent and her bright blue eyes always sparkled whenever she looked at her man.

  “Thanks, Maggie. Been busy, is all,” Colt lied, kind of. “Might get a call during dinner and have to run out.”

  Colt was thinking dinner could get real uncomfortable and he might need an exit plan.

  “If you’re that busy maybe we need to hire more help,” Travis said.

  That was Travis, always thinking of ways to make Colt’s life easier...one hired hand or one woman at a time.

  “Been thinking about doing just that, but in the meantime I may have to—”

  “Ain’t nobody runnin’ nowhere during this here dinner,” Dodge stated, looking directly at Colt. “Ain’t nothing more important than family, and you, son, need to be spending more time in the bosom of yours.”

  The kids giggled as Dodge took his seat at the head of the table. He waved his hands toward his grandchildren to get their attention. “Now, now, settle down. You kids don’t want our company thinking we’re a rowdy bunch.”

  The boys suppressed their giggles, with Scout holding her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter from pouring out.

  “No need for me to hire more people,” Colt said to Travis. “I’ve got everything under control.”

  Colt heard the oven door slam shut in the kitchen and he sat up straighter. Shoot. He’d temporarily forgotten about his brothers’ latest candidate for the “perfect fit.”

  “Seems to me control is something that’s eluding you, son, in more ways than just this here land,” Dodge said.

  Colt felt as if he’d been hog-tied into some sort of family tough-love night, instead of just Sunday dinner. His dad sometimes rode him about his lack of discipline with his boys, and any second now a pretty blonde or brunette would stroll out of the kitchen with a homemade pie she’d just taken out of the oven to prove to Colt she could cook—a trait his brothers thought might be important to him, considering the mother of his children had been a fantastic cook.

  On the other hand, Helen could barely boil water.

  “You boys stop picking on Colt or I’m going to pack up my apple pie and take it back home with me,” Mrs. Abernathy said as she walked out of the kitchen carrying a pie between two hot pads.

  The girl in the kitchen was retired nurse Edith Abernathy? Colt didn’t understand.

  She set the pie on the table, took the seat that was next to Dodge, and everyone bowed their head for a prayer, ignoring her presence as if this was as normal as lemonade on a hot day.

  When the prayer was finished, Colt said, “Nice to see you, Mrs. Abernathy. What brings you out today?”

  “This is her third Sunday dinner with us, son,” Dodge said, speaking for Mrs. Abernathy. “Had you come ’round the last two weeks you would’ve known she’s now a permanent fixture on Sunday.”

  “Yeah, and she brings us the best pies ever,” Scout announced. “Today we have an apple pie with ice cream. Doesn’t it look yummy? I helped her make it.”

  Mrs. Edith Abernathy was a feisty woman somewhere in her early seventies who spoke her mind despite what her obstinate mind might conjure up. She had an elusive early history that no one could quite pin down that eventually led to her becoming a registered nurse. Colt knew Dodge had taken a liking to her ever since she’d helped out with Kitty’s babies. Kitty was Maggie’s sister and the reason why Maggie had come to Briggs in the first place. What Colt hadn’t realized was exactly when and how Edith had become a permanent fixture at their Sunday dinner table.

  From the way Dodge looked over at her as if she was as sweet as barnyard milk, he figured there was more to this woman than just a dinner guest.

  “Am I to guess that you and Edith are an item now?” Colt blurted out. He really didn’t know where that came from. He was usually the son who skirted the obvious, but lately, skirting the obvious wasn’t working so well for him.

  Everyone stopped talking. The food dishes that were being passed around stopped moving. Forks stood at the ready. Even Suzie crawled out from under the table to give Dodge a little ruff.

  “No guessing about it. I’m courting Edith and anybody who don’t much like it can keep their ’pinions to themselves.” Dodge liked to ward off any grief headed his way by making sure everyone knew where he stood on the matter.

  Colt grinned at his dad. “No dissent here. I think it’s great.”

  With that said, the food continued to be passed around the table and empty plates were filled with potatoes, slices of lamb, salad and homemade mint jelly that Dodge put up himself.

  For the rest of the meal, Colt watched as his dad and Edith made eye contact as if they were sharing a secret. He hadn’t seen his dad so happy in years.

  Colt, on the other hand, hadn’t felt that kind of happiness for longer than he’d like to admit. Although he loved his boys more than his next breath, he longed for a woman by his side.

  Reason told him that woman couldn’t be Helen, but pure stubbornness told him he couldn’t give up on her just yet.

  * * *

  HELEN HADN’T WANTED to go out that Sunday night, but Milo had insisted. And of all places, Pia’s Pizza Parlor had been his restaurant of choice. Not that she was complaining, cheese pizza was her survival food, and Pia’s Pizza was her favorite. Her only concern was that it was a kids’ restaurant, complete with video games and a trampoline room; a safe haven fo
r weary parents who needed a break from their little darlings. And if she didn’t already know that Sunday was family night at the Granger ranch, she wouldn’t have agreed to come. Pia’s Pizza was not the place to spill her situation to Colt—way too much kid chaos. She had wanted to come clean on Friday, but once again, the timing wasn’t right.

  So instead, she remained a scandalous source of gossip for the entire town of Briggs.

  She wished she could tap her heels together and be back home in Jackson, with her stepmom bringing her hot tea, her cousins all around her cracking jokes, the occasional friend dropping in to see how she was doing and her dad talking savings accounts.

  But there was no rest for the weary, as her mom used to say, and yes, was she ever weary. However, on the brighter side, Pia’s Pizza was loud, overrun with parents and squabbling siblings and the perfect place for Helen to lose herself for an hour or two. She had ordered a medium cheese pizza and a root beer float, while Milo had ordered an extra-large Pia Pizza with everything on it including double anchovies.

  Amanda Fittswater, Milo’s “friend,” had come along and convinced two-hundred-and-seventy-five-pound Milo to join her in the trampoline room. Helen could only imagine what that must look like after she saw most of the kids come running out.

  “Milo can sure clear out a room,” Colt’s voice echoed somewhere behind her as she licked the straw clean of ice cream from her float. She was sucking up the last of it, and thinking that she might need another one, when Colt jolted her out of her sugar bliss.

  He came around to her side of the table looking better than a man had a right to. “Mind if I join you?”

  She wondered if Milo knew he’d be there. If he and Colt had it all planned.

  He was alone, but she knew his boys were somewhere close. “Colt. Hi. Sure, grab a seat. But shouldn’t you be at your dad’s place, enjoying a home-cooked meal?”

  “Already did that. Been bringing the boys here after dinner so they can run off some steam before their school week starts.”