“Weird,” Marc chirped from the back seat. “But good weird.”
Sawyer grinned over his shoulder. “There are worse things to be than ‘good weird.’ Thanks for the impromptu tour,” he told Becca. “It’s nice to get a little history before I help with the centennial ride.”
“There’s a lot to love here.” Did she sound like a manic travel brochure? She couldn’t help it. Even when she wasn’t trying to fend off tense silences, she gushed about Cupid’s Bow. She’d never been as attached to any place as much as she was to her adopted home. Not the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town where she’d been born or even the city where she’d gone to college. “You should check out the park when you have some free time—it’s gorgeous as long as the river isn’t overflowing. One of my goals if I’m elected is to have the town explore methods of flood control. Too often the park is a bog. And you have to see the old railway station before you leave town.”
“Mr. Sawyer gets to see the soccer fields, too,” Marc said. “At my game on Tuesday.”
Becca winced at her lack of foresight. If she’d realized Marc planned to invite his new friend, she could have explained that Sawyer had his own schedule while he was in the area. As good-natured as the man was, she doubted he wanted to spend an evening watching seven-year-olds chase a ball with varying degrees of skill and team spirit. “That’s a nice idea, champ, and I’m sure Mr. Sawyer appreciates the invitation, but I don’t think—”
“It’s okay,” Sawyer said. “I promised I’d be there, and I keep my promises.”
“Oh.” She cut her eyes toward him, trying unsuccessfully to read his expression in too brief a time. “I hadn’t realized you two already discussed it.”
“That isn’t a problem, is it? If I go with you?”
Yes. The more time he spent with Marc, the more the kid grew to idolize him. And the more time she spent with the cowboy, the harder it was to remember why she shouldn’t flirt and smile and soak up his compliments.
But she’d always applauded peopled who lived up to their promises, even more so since Colin had flaked out on his marriage vows and his implied promise of raising his son. So she sounded almost sincere when she replied, “On the contrary, I’m thrilled you’ll be joining us.”
Sawyer waited for Marc to return his attention to reading, then lowered his voice. “This is what your ‘thrilled’ face looks like?” he teased softly. “Not what I would have pictured.”
“I am happy you’re coming with us.” Happy-ish, anyway. “It just caught me by surprise.”
“Me, too. I don’t spend a lot of time at kids’ soccer matches. But nothing’s been quite what I expected since I got here.”
“I know that feeling.” Her life had been turned upside down for the last few days. Sawyer wasn’t the only reason for the turmoil, but he was definitely at the center of it. “My life’s gotten weird lately.”
He grinned. “Good weird, or bad?”
“Too soon to tell.” The puppy, unhappy about her confinement, had howled for part of the night, so Becca was sleep deprived, as well as frustrated by her sister’s attitude. Plus, she was anxious over an upcoming debate and knew that bringing a good-looking stranger to Marc’s soccer game was bound to cause whispered speculation.
Still, with sunshine streaming through the windows, her son humming cheerfully in the back seat and Sawyer smiling at her, life felt pretty damn good at the moment.
Chapter Eight
Becca didn’t work at the community center on the weekends—not officially, anyway—and Monday was usually hectic. She spent it making sure rooms that had been rented out for Saturday and Sunday events had been restored to the proper condition, following up on inquiries, firming up the schedule for the coming week. This particular Monday morning was no exception, yet amid the controlled chaos, inspiration struck...with a little help from Sammy Pasek.
She was sitting at her desk in the administrative office just off the lobby when her phone rang. It was Sammy, calling between classes to ask if he could come in an hour early today in order to leave an hour sooner, to take his sister to the orthodontist. Eighteen-year-old Sammy was in a special honors program where he finished his school day early and used afternoons for volunteer service. He’d be leaving for college in August, and Becca had written him a hell of a recommendation letter.
Once she assured Sammy that the schedule change was no problem and disconnected the call, her thoughts turned to Molly. Her sister could benefit from exposure to resolute role models like Sammy. Then there was Vicki Ross, only a year or two older than Molly, who came in every Monday and Wednesday to use the weight room. Vicki’s sophomore year of college had been postponed due to serious injuries she’d suffered in a car accident; she’d done physical therapy with Sierra for months. But now Vicki was healed, rebuilding her strength and planning a girls’ trip with her mom to Lake Tahoe to celebrate her progress over the past year.
Becca had no point of reference for mother-daughter bonding; if she had to fly to the West Coast with Odette, she’d probably parachute out of the plane somewhere over the Grand Canyon. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t attempt some strategic sisterly bonding.
She reached for the phone, optimism welling. Granted, Molly had been annoyed yesterday when Becca hijacked her ride to work with Sawyer, but how long could the younger woman hold a grudge? A free lunch and a chance to meet some people her own age might cheer her up.
The phone rang unanswered until voice mail kicked in, so Becca hung up and tried again after updating some new rental agreements.
Finally, on her third attempt, she got an answer.
“Hello.”
At least Becca assumed the greeting was “hello.” The word was distorted by a huge yawn.
“Did I wake you?” Becca frowned at the clock in the corner of her laptop. It was almost eleven.
“Well, I did work last night,” Molly said defensively.
“I know. I drove into town to pick you up, remember?” Becca had wanted to hear about Molly’s first day, but her sister had rested her head against the window and feigned sleep until they got home. But today was a fresh chance. Better get to the reason for her call before Molly withdrew again. “I was thinking, how about I come get you and we have lunch in town together? There’s an incredible barbecue place. Then you can come to the community center with me.”
“Why?”
Becca hadn’t expected such an incredulous response. Marc happily hung out here whenever she put in a few hours on the weekend; there were basketball courts, ping-pong tables and even a small reading nook, suggested by Hadley. “To see where I work, to introduce yourself to more of the community.” She almost added “to meet a boy your own age” but was afraid it would sound judgmental. Besides, she wasn’t certain whether Sammy Pasek was currently seeing anyone. “Come on, it’s just a few hours,” she cajoled, “and you get free food out of it.”
“Fine.” But the surly agreement wasn’t quite as promising as Becca had hoped.
Molly’s mood had not improved an hour later, when she trudged out of the house wearing enough eyeliner for all the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders combined and a skimpy tank top, her expression daring Becca to say something.
Not walking into that trap. Her sister was about as subtle as Truitt’s past attempts to publicly bait her. Besides, Molly’s skin-baring fashion choices weren’t that over-the-top for late May in Texas. People didn’t take on this heat in sweater sets and slacks.
“We didn’t have a chance to talk about it last night, but how was work?” Becca asked encouragingly.
“People wanted to see movies, I sold them tickets. People wanted popcorn, I filled buckets. Riveting, huh?”
Becca sighed, not objecting when her sister reached for the radio dial and filled the minivan with country music.
Luckily, not even Molly’
s sour mood was a match for the food at The Smoky Pig. She dug into her brisket and fries with gusto, not pausing to say much, but clearly enjoying her meal. Meanwhile, a succession of folks came over to discuss the festival with Becca. The crushed parade floats had been the first in a series of minor setbacks, but she wasn’t worried. Problems were only opportunities to find solutions.
Cousins Kim and Tasha Jordan, who worked for the county EMT service and fire marshal respectively, stopped to discuss crowd control for the concert Sunday. When their order number was called at the counter, Becca bade them goodbye and turned back to see Molly looking impressed for the first time.
“You really talked Kylie Jo Wayne into doing a concert for you?” Molly asked around a bite of coleslaw.
“Well, I pleaded my case to her parents, who still live out by Whippoorwill Creek, and they eventually put us in touch. Kylie’s from Cupid’s Bow. She was glad to do something to give back to the community that supported her when she was on that reality show.” Becca hoped she sounded modest enough, without downplaying the achievement so much that Molly lost interest. This was the first time she’d been engaged all day.
“I love her music,” Molly gushed. “Do you think...do you think there’s any chance you might be able to introduce me to her while she’s here?”
“I honestly don’t know. Her schedule will be pretty tight, and she travels with security and a manager and her band. But I promise if there’s an opportunity, I will seize it.”
Molly surprised her with a grin. “I believe you. You’re not exactly shy.”
Becca laughed. “No, I guess I’m not.” Good thing. Monday night, she had a debate in town hall against the mayor, one of her last chances to officially make her case. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Molly if she might want to come along. Would she be interested in seeing her big sister in action, or bored by the small-town politics? Before Becca had decided how to frame the question, they were interrupted by Gayle Trent, stopping by to volunteer her son Jace, in case more help was needed with float repairs.
After Gayle bustled off into the crowd, Becca realized how late it was getting. “Shoot! I’m supposed to be back in the office in ten minutes.”
“Yeah, but aren’t you the boss or something? No one’s going to yell at you if you’re late getting back.”
“Maybe not, but what kind of example would I be setting for all the employees who work for me? Besides, I take pride in my work ethic. The point is to do a job well—not just well enough to avoid getting yelled at.”
Molly rolled her eyes, but reached for the purse hanging on the back of her chair. “Guess we’d better head out then.”
Dial it back a notch, Becca advised herself as she counted out bills for the waitress’s tip. She didn’t mean to sound self-righteous every time she opened her mouth, but she was trying hard to make up for lost years, time when she could have been steering Molly in the right direction. Lunch had been a start. Her sister had actually smiled at her. Hopefully, a couple hours at the community center would further the cause.
They ran into Sammy in the parking lot, and when Molly met the handsome varsity swimmer, her face lit up like the town fireworks over the Watermelon Festival. Becca tried not to grin, afraid she’d look smug about how well her plan was working. She sent the two teenagers off to the filing room with a stack of folders, and was surprised when Molly stalked back into the administrative office half an hour later, scowling. Sammy walked past not long after to help some kids retrieve a basketball that was stuck, darting a crestfallen glance in Molly’s direction. She pointedly ignored him.
Should Becca broach the subject once she finished the phone call she was on?
Before she had the chance, though, Vicki Ross came into the center. When the blonde stopped to fill out the sign-in sheet for the weight room, Becca introduced her to Molly.
Vicki grinned at the magenta and blue streaks that framed Molly’s face. “I like your hair. My family would probably lose their collective minds if I did something like that.”
Doubtful. In Becca’s opinion, the Ross family was so happy to have Vicki healthy and whole again, they wouldn’t blink if she shaved her entire head and tattooed her face.
But Molly was nodding, her expression empathetic. “Family members can be super judgy.” She cut her gaze toward Becca.
Trying to help someone find their footing wasn’t the same as judging them. Mentally rolling her eyes, Becca returned to her desk. The girls talked for a few more minutes, then Vicki asked if Molly wanted to be her spotter in the weight room.
When Sammy poked his head into the office to update Becca on an equipment delivery, he looked disappointed not to find Molly with her. He leaned against the door frame, not meeting Becca’s gaze. “Did, uh, your sister say anything about me?”
“Like what? Did something happen?” Becca’s protective instincts rose. She wouldn’t have thought Sammy was the type to make a move on a girl he’d just met, but if he—
“I don’t know,” he said miserably. “We were talking about the pool and how she hasn’t been yet.” Cupid’s Bow had a very nice aquatic complex, funded years ago by a donation from an oil tycoon. “And I mentioned my swim scholarship. I didn’t mean to brag, but I, uh, wanted to, you know, impress her. Maybe it sounded too obnoxious? She suddenly stormed out. I’m real sorry if I made her mad.”
From what Becca knew, she would have expected her sister to be flattered that Sammy wanted to impress her. “I’ll mention that you apologized, but honestly, I wouldn’t worry too much about this. She may have been in a bad mood because of something completely unrelated to you. Now, can you go check all the thermostats? I want to make sure the air-conditioning units are working properly after those repairs last week.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Today was the start of a brand-new class in wood carving. Becca was in the lobby giving directions to a group of retired gentlemen who’d looked lost, when Vicki Ross strolled toward the exit, whistling cheerfully.
“Vicki, hold up!” Becca darted around a brochure stand to catch up with the young woman before she left the building. She lowered her voice. “Can I ask... Did Molly seem okay to you? I think she was upset earlier, and I just wanted to see if her day had improved.”
Tilting her head to the side, Vicki considered the question. “I wouldn’t say she was upset. She has a really sharp sense of humor—sarcastic, but funny. We’re going out on Thursday, because that’s the next night she has off. She did get sort of quiet. Perked right up when Jace Trent came into the weight room, though. She’s still there talking to him.” Vicki pushed open the door, her smile impish as she turned to go. “Can’t say I blame her.”
Becca gritted her teeth. Although the sheriff’s younger brother was closer to Molly’s age than, say, Sawyer, Becca thought Jace was too old for a not-quite-nineteen-year-old.
Still, Becca had known the upstanding Trent family for years and trusted everyone in it. Jace might smile at Molly’s flirting, but nothing untoward was going to happen in the heavily windowed rec-center weight room, where any number of citizens could see in. Ignoring the overprotective instinct to drag her sister out of there bodily, Becca returned to her office, her earlier triumphant mood deflated.
It wasn’t a complete wash. Molly and Vicki had made plans. That counted toward establishing friendships. Of course, Vicki would be headed to Tahoe in June and back to university in August, but Molly would be more settled in by then.
Becca pushed aside thoughts of her sister long enough to answer some emails, adjust a few numbers in the summer budget and sit through a meeting with representatives from a group looking for a place to hold a haunted house in the fall. Their plans sounded too disturbing—and potentially dangerous—to host at the community center, but she agreed to a second meeting if they wanted to rethink their approach.
It was almost time t
o leave so Becca could pick up Marc from his after-school art program and get him to his Monday evening piano lesson. Molly was still nowhere to be seen. Jace Trent had left over an hour ago, poking his head into Becca’s office to get an update on parade floats. She’d politely thanked him for his willingness to help, biting back any snarled reminders that Molly was just a kid.
Becca checked in the weight room for her sister, without luck. It would be handy to text her, but unlike many other teenagers, Molly didn’t have a cell phone. She’d mentioned her ex-boyfriend giving her one, but the plan had lapsed since they broke up. Luckily, the rec center was only three stories. Becca started on the bottom floor and worked her way up, frowning when she discovered her sister in the doorway of the basketball court, smiling up at a shirtless Larry Breelan. The Breelan brothers had a reputation for trouble; the oldest, Daryl, had been arrested for fighting, public drunkenness and a number of pranks gone awry. His unapologetic “boys will be boys” attitude was particularly ludicrous now that he was approaching forty.
She cleared her throat, inserting herself between Molly and the leering Larry. “I’ve been looking all over the building for you,” she told her sister.
“Well, you found me. Larry here was just telling me about the time he and his brothers—”
“You can tell me all about it on the way to pick up Marc. We need to go.” She shot a dark look at Larry. “Now.”
Molly folded her arms across her chest. “And if I’m not ready to leave? Maybe I can find my own ri—”
“You have to get ready for work tonight. Remember? Come on, I don’t want Marc to think I forgot about him.”
That got Molly moving. Something flashed in her expression, and Becca wondered if Odette had ever neglected to come get her once Molly’s older siblings had left home. Sean and Shane had stayed in the same town, but as young bachelors enjoying their first apartment and being legally old enough to buy beer, they probably hadn’t spent a lot of time in the school carpool line.
The Cowboy Upstairs Page 9
