by Marin Thomas
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t think Bridget would follow me after I left the rodeo.”
“You might have to compromise if you want to find the perfect woman, Conway.”
He didn’t want to discuss his love life. “Do you have a friend who will stay with you tonight?”
“I’ll be fine.”
When Isi opened the door, he heard a female talking. “Who’s that?”
“The sitter. She’s always on her cell phone.”
Conway followed Isi inside.
“Oh, my God, what happened?” The teen’s eyes widened in horror.
“I’m fine, Nicole.” Isi sent Conway a silent message. “I ran into the kitchen door at the bar.”
So she didn’t want the sitter to know the truth—fine by him, because the truth made him look like an idiot.
“Conway, this is Nicole. She watches the boys when I’m at the bar. Nicole, this is Conway. He’s a friend.”
“Nice to meet you,” Nicole said.
While Isi asked the sitter how the boys had behaved, Conway studied the furnishings. Sparse was the first word that came to mind. The furniture appeared second-hand—TV, love seat, chair and coffee table. Kids’ artwork decorated the walls and colorful plastic bins filled with toys had been stacked in the living room corner.
“What time did the boys go to bed?” Isi asked.
“Fifteen minutes ago.”
“I’m sorry to have to cut the night short.” Isi faced Conway. “Where are those pain pills?”
He handed her the bottle and she went into the kitchen and got a drink of water. “I won’t be working at the bar this weekend, so I’ll see you on Monday, Nicole.” Isi disappeared down the hallway then a moment later he heard a door open and close.
“Do you need a ride home, Nicole?” Conway asked.
“No, I live here in the trailer park with my aunt.” She walked to the door. “I left a note on the kitchen table for Isi. Will you make sure she reads it in the morning?”
“Sure.”
After Nicole left, Conway stood in living room uncertain what to do. Was it okay to leave Isi and her kids alone after she’d taken a pain pill? What if a burglar tried to break into the trailer or the water heater caught on fire? Isi was in no shape to handle a crisis.
The least he could do after she’d taken a blow meant for him was stay the night and make sure she and her sons remained safe. As soon as she woke in the morning, he’d hightail it back to the farm.
* * *
A SIXTH SENSE told Conway he was being watched. He opened his eyes beneath the cowboy hat covering his face. Two pairs of miniature athletic shoes stood side by side next to the sofa. He played possum—not an easy task when his legs were numb from dangling over the end of the love seat all night.
“Is he dead?”
The question went unanswered.
“I bet he’s dead.” The same voice spoke again.
“Poke him and see.” A second voice, slightly higher in pitch than the first, whispered.
Conway grinned, glad the hat hid his face.
“Get Mom.”
“She’s sleeping.”
The sound of a food wrapper crinkling reached Conway’s ears.
“Shh.”
“I’m hungry.” Crunching followed the statement.
Conway shifted on the couch and groaned.
“He’s alive.”
“Maybe he’s sick.”
“Look under his hat.”
“You look.”
“Chicken.”
“Am not.”
Conway’s chest shook with laughter as he waited for his assailants’ next move. Small fingers lifted the brim of his hat and Cheerio breath puffed against in his face.
On the count of three. One...two...three. Conway opened his eyes and his gaze clashed with the boys’. The kids shrieked and jumped back, bumping into each other. The Cheerio box sailed through the air, the contents spilling onto Conway’s chest. He studied the mess then turned his attention to the daring duo.
“Sorry, mister.” The brothers scooped oat rings off of Conway’s shirt and stuffed them back into the box. Conway swung his legs to the floor and sat up. The twins were identical. They wore their hair cut in a traditional little-boy style with a side part and both had their mother’s almond-shaped brown eyes.
He pointed to the kid holding the cereal box. “What’s your name?”
“Javier.”
Conway moved his finger to the other boy.
“I’m Miguel. Who are you?”
So Miguel was the outgoing one and Javier the shy one. “Conway Twitty Cash.”
“That’s a long name,” Miguel said.
“You can call me Conway.” It wasn’t enough that his mother had slept with every Tom, Dick and Harry across southern Arizona, but she’d also possessed a strange sense of humor in naming all six of her sons after country-music legends. “How old are you guys?”
“Four.” They answered in unison.
“Are you a real cowboy?” Miguel asked.
“That depends. You asking if I work on a ranch?”
Miguel nodded.
“I’m not that kind of cowboy.”
Javier made eye contact with his brother and Conway swore the boys conversed telepathically. “What kind of cowboy are you?” Miguel asked.
“Part-time rodeo cowboy. When I’m not bustin’ broncs, I work on a farm.”
The boys stared with blank expressions.
“You know what pecans are, don’t you?”
They shook their heads.
“Nuts that grow on trees. People eat the nuts or use them in pies.”
Javier whispered in his brother’s ear then Miguel asked, “How come you’re in our house?”
Not sure what answer Isi would want him to give her sons, he asked a question of his own. “Have you ever seen a man in your house after you woke up in the morning?”
They shook their heads again.
For some stupid reason that pleased Conway.
Javier whispered in his brother’s ear.
“You can ask me questions yourself, Javier,” Conway said.
“I mostly talk.” Miguel’s chest puffed up. “Why are you sleeping on our couch?”
“Your mom wasn’t feeling well, so I stayed the night in case something bad happened.”
“Is Mom dying?” Miguel paused, then said, “Like what?”
“No, your mom isn’t dying. For Pete’s sake!” Conway had trouble following the conversation—he’d never talked with four-year-olds before. “Like what, what?”
“What kind of bad things?” Miguel asked.
“Well, there could have been a fire in the middle of the night.”
Javier ran from the room then returned with a small fire extinguisher.
“We know how to put out a fire,” Miguel said.
He doubted the boys had the strength to pull the pin on the extinguisher, but he was impressed that they knew what the canister was used for. “Or a bad guy could’ve broken into the trailer.”
Javier set down the extinguisher then opened the closet door in the hallway and removed a baseball bat, which he dragged across the carpet. Conway got the impression the kid was trying to tell him that they didn’t need his help protecting their mother.
“Can you lift that?” he asked.
Javier raised the bat and Conway intercepted the barrel before it hit Miguel in the back of the head. “Whoa, slugger.” He confiscated the weapon and laid it on the couch.
“Javi...Mig... Where are you guys?” Isi’s sluggish voice rang out a moment before she appeared in the hallway. Conway sucked in a quiet breath. The bruising beneath her eyes had deepened to dark
purple.
“Mom!” Miguel dashed across the room, Javier following him. “What happened?” Both boys hugged Isi’s legs.
“I had an accident at work last night. I ran into a door and broke my nose.”
“Does it hurt?” Miguel asked.
“Yes. Did you have breakfast?” Isi dropped to one knee and hugged her sons. She whispered in Miguel’s ear then he went into the kitchen, climbed onto the counter and retrieved two cereal bowls from the cupboard. Javier remained by Isi’s side—he was definitely the insecure twin.
“Mom.” Miguel set the bowls on the table.
“What?”
“Conway Twitty Cash slept on our couch.”
“You can call me Conway.”
“Mr. Conway,” Isi said.
“I told them I stayed last night, because you weren’t feeling well and I needed to be here in case of an emergency.”
“We don’t need his help, do we, Javi?” Miguel said.
Javier wouldn’t look at Conway.
“It was nice of Mr. Conway to stay, but I’m fine now.” Isi sent him a time-to-leave look.
Conway stood up and the Cheerios that had gotten caught in the wrinkles of his shirt spilled to the floor. He stepped over the Os to avoid smashing them into the carpet. “Your sitter left this for you last night.” He handed her the piece of paper Miguel had pushed aside on the table. “She wanted you to read it first thing in the morning.”
While Isi read the note, Conway said, “I’d really like to make it up to you for what happened last night. Is there anything I can—”
Isi glanced up from the note a stunned expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nicole quit.”
“What?”
“She’s moving to Tucson to live with her father.”
“When?” Conway asked.
“Today.” Isi sighed. “If I don’t find a sitter by Monday, I’ll have to skip class and I have an exam that day.”
“Maybe your mother could help out with the boys.”
She frowned. “My mother’s dead.”
That’s right. She’d told him her mother had passed away right before she’d immigrated to the U.S. He inched closer to the door. “Maybe a relative—”
“Conway—”
Hand on the doorknob he froze. “What?”
“I told you a long time ago that I don’t have any family. It’s just me and the boys.”
Really? He couldn’t recall Isi talking about her family. He was always wrapped up in his dating dilemmas and the information had probably gone in one ear and out the other. He swallowed hard. That Isi was all alone in the world didn’t seem right. He might have had a mother who cared more about chasing after men, and a father who hadn’t wanted the responsibility of raising him, but he’d had siblings and grandparents who cared about him.
“You offered to help,” she said. “Would you watch the boys until I find a replacement sitter?”
Babysit? Him? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It would be for two or three days at the most.”
“I don’t know anything about kids.”
She ignored his protests. “I’d need you to drop them off at preschool and bring them back here afterward.”
“I’m sure—” he winked at the boys “—they’d rather have anyone but me watch them.”
“Never mind.” Her shoulders sagged.
Did she have to act so dejected?
“I’ll take the boys to school with me and hope the professors allow them into the classroom.”
“I don’t want to go to your school, Mom,” Miguel said.
It’s because of me that Isi’s nose is broken.
Oh, hell. How hard could it be to watch a couple of four-year-olds? For two years Isi had listened to him bellyache about women. He couldn’t turn his back on her when she needed him most.
“Okay, I’ll watch the boys,” he said.
She flashed him a bright smile. “You’ll need to be here by noon on Monday.”
“See you then.” Right now, Conway couldn’t escape fast enough.
Chapter Two
“I don’t want a babysitter.”
Isi ignored Javier, who sat under the kitchen table playing with his toy cars, and focused on memorizing the Visual Basic code for her exam later in the day.
“How come Conway Twitty Cash has to watch us?” Miguel asked.
Ever since her son had learned Conway’s full name, he insisted on using it. For the tenth time, she explained, “Nicole moved to Tucson to live with her father and Mr. Conway is helping us out until I find a new sitter.”
Her child-care search had stalled over the weekend. The manager at the preschool had offered Isi the names of three women but none of them had been available to watch the boys at night while she worked at the bar. She worried she’d have to resort to the want ads in the newspaper.
“Mr. Conway’s not a girl,” Javier said.
“He certainly is not.” Conway was all male. Not only did he have a movie-star face, but the way he filled out a pair of jeans turned female heads when he strolled into the bar. Add a boyish grin to his cowboy appeal and every woman on this side of the border was in love with the man.
Too bad he wasn’t interested in being a father, because she still experienced an occasional romantic dream about Conway. The day he’d come into the bar and hit on her had been the stuff of fairy tales. Then when he’d learned she was a single mother, he’d cooled toward her. She’d wanted to stay mad at him forever, but he’d continued to visit the bar and joke around with her and in a matter of weeks they’d settled into a cozy friendship. He’d been and always would be her favorite cowboy.
Javier drove a Lego car over the top of her shoe. “Only girls babysit.”
“Boys can be sitters, too,” she said.
“Conway Twitty Cash, Conway Twitty Cash, Conway Twitty Cash, Con—”
“Enough, Miguel!” Isi shut the textbook. “Names are special and you shouldn’t make fun of someone’s name.”
“Our names are special,” Javier said.
She’d named her sons after their twin uncles Javier and Miguel whom they’d never met and never would. Surprisingly, the boys favored their namesakes. Isi’s brother Javier had been shy and her brother Miguel had been outgoing—neither had lived long enough to meet their nephews. Isi wished there was a man in her life to help raise the twins, but she’d rather go it alone as a single mom than trust the well-being of her sons to a here-one-day-gone-the-next boyfriend or their biological father, who refused to claim them.
One of the reasons her friendship with Conway had grown was because she enjoyed listening to him talk about his family. When she heard stories about him and his brothers’ antics she felt like one of his siblings.
“He’s too big for our house,” Javier said.
Isi poked her head beneath the table, wincing at the stab of pain in her nose. “Mr. Conway seems tall because we’re all short.”
“Do we have to do what Conway Twitty Cash says?” Miguel asked.
“Yes.” Isi opened the refrigerator door. “You two wash up while I make lunch.” Miguel raced to the bathroom but Javier remained beneath the table. Isi peered at him. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want you to go to school.”
“I have an important test this afternoon,” she said.
“Are you gonna go to school forever?”
“I hope not.” This was her final semester and as long as she passed all her classes, she’d earn an associate degree in business before Christmas. She pulled on her son’s shirt until he crawled into the open then she sat him on her lap. “Tell me what’s really bothering you, mi corazón?” Jav
ier laid his head against her chest. “Mr. Conway’s a very nice man,” she said. “Did you know he has five brothers and a sister?”
Javier shook his head.
“Maybe when he gets here, you can ask him what it’s like to have to share toys with all those brothers.” She checked the wall clock. Conway would arrive shortly to drive the boys to preschool—three hours during which she wouldn’t have to worry about her sons. It was what went on after Conway picked them up from school that concerned her.
“Everything’s going to be okay.” She set Javier on his feet and gave him a gentle push in the direction of the bathroom. “Wash your hands.”
A half hour later, the boys had eaten their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and had fetched their backpacks from the bedroom when the doorbell rang.
“It’s Conway Twitty Cash!” Miguel raced to the door.
“Use the peephole,” Isi said.
Miguel climbed onto the chair next to the door and peered through the spy hole. “It’s him.” He hopped down and flung open the door. “Hi, Conway Twitty Cash.”
Conway grinned. “Hi, Miguel Lopez.”
“How come you know I’m Miguel?”
“Because you talk more than your brother.” Conway stepped inside. “Hello, Javier.”
Javi peeked at Conway from behind Isi’s legs. “Thanks for arriving early,” she said.
“No problem.” His brown-eyed gaze roamed over her body and she resisted glancing at herself to see if she’d spilled food on the front of her blouse.
She motioned to the kitchen table where she’d left a notebook open. “Important numbers are in there. The boys need to be dropped off at school by twelve-thirty and picked up at three-thirty. Supper’s between five and six. Bath time is seven. Bedtime eight. I should be home shortly after midnight.”
“Where’s the school?” Conway asked.
“Over there.” Miguel pointed at the kitchen window.
“The Tiny Tot Learn and Play is a mile down the road next to the McDonald’s.” Isi peeled Javier’s arms off her legs, kissed his cheek then gathered her backpack and laptop before kissing Miguel. “Be good for Mr. Conway. If I get a bad report, we won’t be going to the carnival this weekend.”
