The Nine-Dollar Daddy

by Day Leclaire

  What had prompted this? Something was sticking in the boy’s craw and it had been there since they’d first met. Perhaps the time had come to get it sorted out. “Why do you think you’re responsible for their breakup?” Ty asked conversationally.

  Hutch kicked at a rock. It ricocheted across the yard and dinged the hubcap of Cassidy’s rattletrap. “I heard him. It was the day Mom got my test scores back. The ones that told her how smart I was. I was only five, but I have a really good memory.” He slanted Ty a quick look from beneath his lashes. “That’s one of the things the tests discovered. About my memory. Well, anyway, I remember what Lonnie said and...”

  “And?” Ty prompted.

  Hutch lifted his shoulder in a casual sort of shrug. “I did tell you I was smart, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, kid. You did.”

  “Scary smart. I told you that, right?”

  Ty’s gaze sharpened. “I believe you may have mentioned it.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you? Not even a little?”

  “Nope. In fact, it’s one of the things I like best about you.”

  A flush crept into Hutch’s cheeks. “You do? Really?”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that.” He waited a beat, but the boy remained stubbornly silent. “Five years is a long time to have something eating at you. Might as well get it out into the open where we can have a look-see. What happened when the test results came in?”

  “Oh, you know. Nothing much.” Light, breezy, unconcerned... and lying through his teeth. “Mom put together this big party. She used some of her meat money to buy balloons and bake a cake, and hung up decorations and everything. I think she knew people would treat me differently when they found out I was a brainiac and this was her way of making me feel good about myself.” Hutch made a production of adjusting his glasses. “When Da—Lonnie came home, I was in my room getting ready for our party. But I heard him. Mom told him all about how smart I was and he said...he said...”

  “I gather he didn’t like it,” Ty offered gently.

  Hutch gathered himself, his jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn’t shatter. “He said I was a freak and he didn’t want no part of me.”

  “Aw, Hutch...”

  The story came tumbling out “That’s when Mom took his plate and glass from the cabinet and told him to get out and never come back. That stupid ol’ April Mae was welcome to him since between the two of ’em they might come up with half a brain, which was all either of them were ever likely to need.”

  Go Cassidy, Ty thought fiercely. Damn, he wished he’d been there to cheer her on. With any luck at all, she’d have had all twenty-six inches swinging fast and furious. And her bastard of an ex would have tumbled out of there sorer, if not wiser. But that still left one small kid nursing a world of hurt. Slowly, Ty stooped until they met eye to eye. It took every ounce of self-possession to answer calmly. “Good thing you inherited your smarts from your mom’s side of the family. Otherwise I suspect you’d have been as dumb as a rock.”

  Hutch blinked rapidly and offered a watery grin. “Guess so.”

  Ty nudged his Stetson to the back of his head and chose his words with care. “Hutch, this world is peopled by all sorts of folks. Some don’t like anything that strikes them as different, and when they come across it they take fright and run. Or they say stupid things even if they don’t mean them. I suspect your father is one of those types. Maybe someday he’ll grow out of it and you’ll be man enough then to let bygones be bygones.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But, kid, you can’t color your world with Lonnie’s crayons, if you know what I mean. Especially when he’s only using one color. You can’t allow his views of you to determine your views of yourself. Try not to let one mean, thoughtless remark scar you. It’s not worth it. We’re what we make of ourselves, not what others tell us we are.”

  “Then...” Hutch’s chin trembled for an instant before he brought it under rigid control. “Then it’s okay with you that I’m smart? It won’t make you leave?”

  “Not a chance,” Ty said emphatically. “Your mome won’t ever have to hand me my plate and glass because of you. Know why that is?”

  Hutch’s blue eyes clung, afraid and wary and desperate. “Not ’zactly.”

  Ty dropped heavy hands on the boy’s skinny shoulders. “Because I love you as much as I would my own son. And I’m proud of you, kid. Proud and honored to have you as my friend.”

  Hutch’s head dipped in acknowledgment. “Okay. That’s good.” He peeked shyly up at Ty. “You’re not going to hug me or anything?”

  Ty fought a grin. “I might.”

  “Well, okay.” Hutch scuffed his feet in the dirt. “But just a quick one. And you better pound me on the back in case anybody’s lookin’. That way, it’s a guy thing and not like I’m a little kid and need a hug or anything.”

  Ty swept him up and held him as tightly as he dared. He didn’t pound. Hospitalizing the kid probably wouldn’t be wise. But he did tap a bit. Gently.

  Very gently.

  Tears filled Cassidy’s eyes and she slipped silently off the porch, praying they didn’t notice her. He’d heard them. All those years ago, Hutch had heard Lonnie’s horrible, unforgivable words. For five years he’d sealed them up inside, allowing them to fester. And fester they had...until Ty had lanced the wound. Until he’d taken her son in his arms and given him the one thing she’d never been able to—a father’s love and acceptance.

  All this time, she’d been resisting any sort of involvement, despite the fact that it was an involvement she wanted every bit as much as Hutch. And why? It didn’t take a lot of thought. She’d resisted because she feared being hurt. Because she was afraid to trust, afraid of the lies and half-truths that went along with the death of love. Afraid of being deserted and forced to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives again. Afraid of living day to day on the edge of survival with no hope or relief in sight.

  Ty isn’t Lonnie. Cassidy covered her face with her hands. No, he wasn’t. He was a man who’d offered love and acceptance from the first moment she’d catapulted into his arms. He’d taken her in along with her son and done everything in his power to make them happy. And he’d keep doing it, too. Because love wasn’t a one-night stand for him. It wasn’t a few meaningless words of passion followed by a quick tumble in the parking lot outside of a high school gym. For Ty it was words backed up by deeds that followed a consistent pattern—the same pattern that would be repeated again tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.

  So, what the heck did she do now?

  She began by wiping away her tears. Next she’d start pointing her face toward the future instead of constantly looking over her shoulder at the past. No wonder she tripped so often! Then she’d trot on upstairs and pack for her trip to San Antonio. And if Ty asked her to many him again, this time she’d say yes. This time, she’d allow love to govern her actions instead of fear. This time, she’d open her mouth and tell him what was in her heart, tell him that she loved him with every fiber of her being and had from the moment she’d accidently backhanded him.

  Her days of running were over. This time, she’d grab her happiness and hold on tight.

  “What do you mean you’ve never been to the San Antonio Fiesta?” Ty forged a path through the crowd lining the River Walk. To Cassidy’s amusement, people gave way with nary a murmur. “Not even to see the River Parade?”

  “I’ve never had the chance.” Or the money.

  He captured her hand and pulled her close. “Work, I assume?”

  “It’s a good opportunity to earn some spare cash,” she admitted. In fact, she should be staffing one of the booths or waitressing in one of the restaurants right now. People tended to tip well during Fiesta days.

  Up ahead at La Villita, a mariachi band blocked the walkway and Ty slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close so they could stand with a crowd of locals and tourists and enjoy the enterta
inment Nearby, someone broke a cascarone. The colorfully decorated egg shattered, its confetti-filled contents catching on a fragrant breeze and scattering. The bright bits of paper caught in Cassidy’s hair, mingling with the flower crown Ty had purchased for her, and she laughed. She couldn’t remember when she’d last been so happy.

  Ty leaned close so he could be heard above the music. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  He gestured toward a man striding through the crowd gnawing on a huge turkey leg. “Want one?”

  She chuckled. “I’ll pass, thanks. But I wouldn’t say no to one of those fat tortillas.”

  “Ah. A gordita. You’re on.”

  “So, how long until the floats go by?” She couldn’t wait to see the parade of boats that drifted along the San Antonio River. She especially wanted to check out the beauty queens dressed in their magnificent Fiesta gowns—hand-sewn, beaded wonders, some with trains as long as twelve feet. “Do you think we’ll be able to see? It’s awfully crowded.”

  “I bought seats. We’ll head over in a little while.”

  “And then what?”

  An odd expression crept into his gaze. “We can party until dawn with the rest of San Antonio. Do some dancing. Drink margaritas. Or...”

  “Or?” she prompted.

  “We can go back to our rooms.”

  In the middle of the crowd, they were suddenly alone. The music and laughter and raucous chatter faded into silence and Cassidy filled her eyes with the man she loved. He stood tall and solid, a rock in the middle of a surging river. She slipped closer, and for the first time, took the initiative. She wrapped her arms around him, lifted her face to his and sealed his mouth with the most determined kiss she’d ever pasted on a man. Around her, people cheered.

  “You sure as hell pick your times, sweetheart,” he growled. “I don’t suppose you want to head back to the hotel now?”

  “And miss the river parade?” she teased.

  Carefully, he adjusted her flower crown, dislodging confetti as he combed the colored ribbons through her hair with his fingers. “I want this night to be special for you.”

  There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. “It’ll be special. For both of us.”

  “Then we’ll wait. Tonight...” He smiled tenderly. “Tonight isn’t going to be rushed.”

  No, Ty wasn’t the type for a quickie in the back seat of a Chevy, she was willing to bet, not even as a teenager. “Okay. But kiss me again quick, so the wait won’t seem so long.”

  He cupped her face. “My pleasure, sweetheart.” When he’d done a thorough job of it, he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Come on. I reserved some seating near the Little Church.”

  By the time the parade was scheduled to start, he had a five-year-old girl in traditional Mexican dress perched on one knee, while her brother rode the other. Cassidy had managed to snag an infant from the exhausted mother seated next to her and spent almost as much of the next hour cooing at the baby as she did oohing at the entertainment. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having a baby in her arms, maybe because she’d had so little time and energy to enjoy Hutch at this age. She peeked at Ty from beneath her lashes. Perhaps someday she’d come to the Fiesta holding their—

  “Next year we’ll bring Hutch,” Ty said, interrupting her train of thought.

  Startled, she could only stare. “Next year?”

  “Yeah. I know he had to be in school this week, but this is too good for him to miss.”

  “Look!” shrieked the little girl. Her dusky curls spilled over Ty’s hand where he held her securely on his knee. “The floats! They’re coming.”

  Cassidy craned to see. Sure enough, the first of the platforms slowly motored down the river toward them. For the next hour, she cheered with the rest of the crowd, waving at the participants and clapping for the bands. But her favorite part was when the beauty queens passed by.

  The crowd would shout, “Show us your shoes!” And to deafening cheers and applause, the women on the floats would lift the skirts of their hundred pound, beaded dresses to show off their running shoes. The incongruous sight always provoked a laugh. When the last float had disappeared around the river’s bend and the last child had been dropped into his parent’s waiting arms, Ty turned to Cassidy.

  “Like it?”

  “It was fantastic.” She smiled up at him. “Thanks for tonight. I’m glad we stayed. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Especially those fabulous gowns. How did everyone know they were wearing sneakers under their dresses?”

  “The beauty queens always do, and it’s our job to make them prove it.” Nearby, a violin played softly and he reached for her hand. “How about a dance before we go?”

  “Here?” She glanced around self-consciously. “Now?”

  “Why not?”

  He swung her into his arms and she drifted in a leisurely circle, content to be crazy so long as she did it with Ty. To her amusement, other couples joined them in the impromptu dance. With a murmur of pleasure, Cassidy closed her eyes and leaned into him. She fitted so beautifully, her head nestling at precisely the right angle between the crook of his shoulder and his chin. And for once her feet cooperated, allowing her to follow his movements with perfect coordination, responding to the subtle press of thigh and hip. Heaven help her, if they danced this well in bed, she’d be a thrilled—not to mention a thoroughly satisfied—woman.

  At long last, the final note slipped into the crowd and vanished and an enthusiastic guitarist took over. With a murmur of regret, Cassidy eased from Ty’s embrace. “I guess we should be starting back.”

  He cupped her face, his thumb stroking the sweeping ridge of her cheekbone. It was as though he needed to touch her and to keep on touching. She more than understood. Standing on tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. For a long moment, she gazed into his eyes. On the surface they seemed as green and untroubled as a mountain lake. But beneath she caught a glimpse of fiery determination.

  He wanted her with a passion that hurt and had since they’d first met. He’d waited patiently while she’d circled, wary and distrustful, deciding whether or not to allow him close. Well, the wait was over. She’d made her decision. She kissed him then—a kiss of promise and faith, of love and commitment. He practically devoured her on the spot. In time, they drew apart and he stared down at her. She’d never seen him so serious before.

  “We’re getting this straightened out. Tonight.”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Yes.”

  It was all he needed to hear. He caught her hand in his and started off in the direction of their hotel. “You looked as excited during that parade as the little girl I was holding,” he commented with amazing calm.

  How could he remain so cool? She felt ready to shatter like a darned cascarone. “Did I?”

  “I get the impression you didn’t spend a lot of time being a kid, even when you were one.”

  “I had a pretty normal childhood.” It was only later she got into trouble.

  “You were raised by your aunt and uncle?”

  “My parents died when I was four and they took me in,” she confirmed. “We didn’t always see eye to eye.”

  “Over Lonnie, for instance?”

  “Oh, yeah. But they’re kind people and they meant well. And as it turns out, they were right about him.”

  “How do you suppose they’d take to Texas?” he asked casually.

  “Texas?” They’d reached the Menger. Across the street she caught a glimpse of the Alamo, a sight that never failed to move her. She hesitated beneath a streetlight and glanced up at Ty. “What are you suggesting?”

  He shrugged, opening the door to the hotel. “I have that cabin standing around doing nothing. Now that the skunk stink’s been cleared out, it would make a great little apartment for them. They could be as independent as they wanted or come on up to the main house for meals—”

  “I can’t imagine Gen. Robert E. Lee riding Traveller through the lo
bby here,” she chattered uneasily. “I wonder if anyone gave him a hard time about it. They sure would today if somebody chose to ride a horse right through—”

  “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “Don’t you think you have enough guests staying at the ranch?” she asked cautiously.

  He didn’t say anything until they’d reached the Victorian lobby in the older section of the hotel. “You want the truth?”

  “Please.”

  He paused by an old Seth Thomas dial clock. “Honey, if forcing your aunt and uncle onto Texas soil at gunpoint would convince you to stay, I’d load up my shotgun and take off for Georgia tonight.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she assured him, starting up the steps toward their rooms.

  “I’m relieved to hear it, not that it changes how I feel or what I’m trying to do.”

  “But it’s premature,” she explained gently.

  He waited until they’d reached their suite and unlocked the door before saying anything further. “It won’t be premature for long,” he said, gesturing for her to precede him into the room. “It’s that time again.”

  She tried to hide her smile. “Time for what?”

  “Time to ask you to marry me.”

  “Okay.”

  “So will you?”

  “Yes.”

  He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I mean, after tonight, if that doesn’t convince you—” His head jerked up. “Did you say yes?”

  “I think so.” She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s see. You said, ‘Time to ask you to marry me,’ and I said, ‘Okay’ and then you said, ‘So will you?’ and I said—” The rest of her words were smothered beneath his mouth. “I shouldn’t have teased,” she whispered. “I should have just told you. I love you, Ty. I never thought I’d say those words again, but I’d be lying if I pretended I felt otherwise.”

  His smile was infinitely gentle. “We did promise to be honest with each other, didn’t we, sweetheart?”

  But she hadn’t been. Not about everything. Would it make a difference to him when he found out the truth? Slowly, she slipped from his arms. “Wait here. There’s something I need to show you.”