The Cowboy's Texas Twins

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The Cowboy's Texas Twins Page 7

by Tanya Michaels


  Lunch had been spectacular, the food even surpassing his memories, but without the buffer of Hadley’s company, he felt overwhelmed by the crowd. Who else here knew him, associated him with his drunken father? Next time you get a craving for barbecue, do yourself a favor and get takeout.

  Chapter Six

  Apparently, Grayson decided during dinner, I need to work on my poker face. Hadley had asked him on the way back to the library if he was okay and when he’d said yes, she’d frowned with obvious skepticism. And Aunt Vi had asked him the same question twice this evening.

  Truthfully, the day had left him drained—meeting with the school counselor, running in to Ned Garcia, having lunch with Hadley. Lunch had actually been a highlight but the unabashed curiosity of people like Bunny and Leanne was grating. He was already a man skeptical about happy endings, but romance in Cupid’s Bow would be even harder. People would hear about a couple’s every date and fight.

  He wasn’t very hungry, but he made an attempt to eat, wanting to set a good example for the boys and reassure Vi that he was fine. When he felt like he’d made a suitable effort, he set down his fork and turned to the boys. “Sometime this week, we should go shopping for school supplies.” Their mother had loved to shop, called it therapeutic.

  The boys had not inherited this trait.

  “It’s bad enough we hafta go to school soon,” Tyler wailed. “Now we hafta go to stores?”

  His brother was more succinct. “Blech.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a bummer,” Grayson said. “We can do something fun while we’re out. We could go to the park. Or get dessert at the bakery.”

  “Or go to the library?” Sam asked. “I wanna get more dinosaur books. And one ʼbout space. There’s lotsa stars at night, and Violet says they make concentrations.”

  “Constellations,” she said, correcting him as she began clearing away empty plates. “That’s a great idea, Sammy. Bring home a book or two about the constellations, and I’ll look through the garage for binoculars. I know there’s a pair around here somewhere. A telescope would be even better, but...”

  Grayson’s cell phone rang. It was a local number. “This could be about the construction job.”

  “You take that,” Vi said, “and I’ll get the boys’ bath started.”

  Twenty minutes later, the boys were putting on pajamas and Grayson was gainfully employed. At least for the time it took to rebuild an old church. The man who’d hired him wanted to use this project as a trial run and they could renegotiate for something more permanent if everyone was happy with how it went.

  “I start Friday,” he told Vi as the twins brushed their teeth. “You’re sure you don’t mind staying with the boys all day? Your work—”

  “It’s one day. Next week, they start school. I’ll just plan to be really productive until they get home at three, then run my errands with them in tow.”

  He winced, thinking of the cereal-aisle fiasco and the scattered books in the children’s library. “You sure that’s a good idea? Those boys may have a real future in the field of demolition.”

  She laughed. “You were a rambunctious little boy once, too, but the town’s still standing.”

  Tyler padded into the hall, his expression perplexed. “What’s ramb...”

  “Rambunctious,” Vi repeated slowly. “It means lively and high-spirited. But someone who gets in trouble a little, too.”

  “And Grayson used to get in trouble?” Tyler asked.

  “A few times,” she said. “No one’s perfect, but he was a good boy.”

  No, I wasn’t. In a town where people had so much intimate knowledge of each other, it was a minor miracle he’d ever gotten away with graffiti and shoplifting. He’d been petty and destructive, and if he could take it all back now...

  “Done,” Sam declared, joining them in the hall. He smiled broadly, showing off his sparkling teeth.

  “Excellent job,” Vi said. She kissed each boy on the head and told them good-night.

  As Grayson tucked them in, he told them about his tour of the school. “It’s nice. You’ll like it there. I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends.”

  Sam yawned. “Did you make lotsa friends in school?”

  “I...” Lying seemed like bad parenting, but he didn’t want to get in to his bleak childhood. Especially not at bedtime. “Miss Hadley was in my class.”

  “Oh.” Sam exchanged a sleepy smile with his brother, and Tyler nodded, silently agreeing that a school where Miss Hadley attended couldn’t be too bad. The boys really liked her.

  Thinking of her generous heart and musical laugh, Grayson decided the boys had excellent taste.

  When he emerged from the room, he found Vi working on the couch with her feet on the coffee table and flanked by two dogs. The third was in bed with the twins. “I talked to Jim McKay,” she said without looking up from the laptop screen. “We’re all set and meeting this weekend to discuss his website. If I seemed antsy about it last night, it’s only because he caught me off-guard. Blast from the past, old memories. But I’m a professional.”

  Grayson sat in the battered armchair she refused to get rid of because it had been her dad’s favorite. “I had a different kind of blast-from-the-past encounter today.”

  “Talking to Hadley about old times?”

  He shook his head. “I ran in to Ned Garcia and he chatted me up like we were old friends. I couldn’t believe his nerve.”

  “Hold on, Gray. Ned’s a good man.”

  “He and that Drake guy stole my dad’s shop out from under him!” The tack-and-supply store had been started by Bryant’s family; Grayson’s mom got a job as a clerk there when she’d been nineteen. Bryant had been a decade older but claimed it was love at first sight. They’d married a week after Rachel’s twentieth birthday, and Grayson had come along six months later.

  “Ned and Albert Drake invested in that store to help your dad save it when he couldn’t get a loan,” Violet explained.

  “Yeah, giving them majority ownership. From what I heard, it was a hostile takeover.”

  With a heavy exhale, she set aside her laptop. “We don’t talk much about your father because I’ve never really known what to say.”

  And because Grayson had habitually changed the subject.

  “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead,” she continued. “But after Rachel left, your father was angry at the world, and he watched events unfold from inside a bottle. His perspective was skewed.”

  Grayson couldn’t argue with those facts. Still, Ned and Albert had taken control of the store. That was indisputable.

  “After you came to live with me, Ned periodically sent me checks to help out—although he didn’t want any fuss and got embarrassed when I thanked him.”

  “Maybe he sent the money out of guilt.”

  “He sent it because he cared. There was a time when he and your dad were close friends. He tried to get Bryant to AA meetings.”

  “He did?” Grayson couldn’t help wondering, just for a second, how life might’ve been different if Ned had succeeded.

  “Albert Drake passed away last winter, so it’s just Ned running the store now. The place mostly sells ranch and riding supplies, but he special-orders me dog food at a discount.”

  The picture she painted of a kindly man who’d gone out of his way to try to help a doomed friend was something he would have to ponder. It didn’t fit the narrative he’d been told—but was he really going to trust a bitter drunk over Aunt Vi? “Speaking of ranches, I may have a line on a second job.”

  She laughed. “That was fast. You haven’t even started the first job.”

  “You know the Twisted R?”

  “The Ross spread, yeah. They hosted the Harvest Day Festival there a year or two ago.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Cupid’s Bow and its town celebrations. Harvest
Days, the Sweetheart Festival, the Centennial Trail Ride, the Hey-it’s-a-Wednesday-in-March Festival...”

  “The Centennial celebration, by definition, is only once every hundred years. You can’t count it.” She grinned. “But I’ll be happy to bring up your Wednesday-in-March idea at the big town meeting this Friday.”

  “Big town meeting?”

  She nodded. “Town hall, followed by a movie under the stars. Everyone I know is planning to go. Want to join me?”

  Not even a little bit. “After a day of working construction, I’ll probably hit the shower and fall facedown in bed.”

  “The movies are always family-friendly. I can take the boys if you’re thinking of turning in early.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “That’s what my Greatest-Aunt-in-the-World mug tells me. But reminders are always appreciated, too.”

  * * *

  THERE WAS NOTHING like soaking in a perfect Texas day from atop a horse. The sun was bright, yet not punishing, and bluebonnets flourished along the trail. Even if Jarrett Ross decided not to offer him part-time work, Grayson deemed this an afternoon well spent. He’d called the man that morning and discovered that Hadley had already put in a good word for him.

  Now, he and Jarrett were approaching the stable, having concluded their tour of the ranch. “That’s pretty much the whole operation,” Jarrett said as he dismounted. “Any questions?”

  “No, but it sure was good to ride again. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.” He was used to ranching odd jobs that kept him in the saddle when he wasn’t on the circuit, and he’d had a standing invitation to a friend’s stables back when he’d lived in his trailer. Grayson did some of his best thinking on horseback. “I’ve been considering signing up the boys for lessons.” Maybe after he got his first paycheck.

  They led the horses inside. “I met their dad a few times,” Jarrett said. “Blaine Stowe? He was a good guy.”

  “Best friend I ever had.”

  “I competed against him in Fort Worth once. Kicked my ass,” Jarrett said with a grin. “When he quit riding, I didn’t know whether to be relieved or ticked off that he retired before I had a chance to beat him.”

  Grayson had to laugh at that. “Probably a lot of guys out there feel the same way about you.”

  “Maybe a few. My family went through a rough time, though, and I needed to be here. I don’t miss the circuit like I thought I might. Hell, if things had been different, I never would have met Sierra. The way my fiancée tells it, moving back to Cupid’s Bow wasn’t your first choice, but keep an open mind.” He inhaled deeply, the picture of contentment. “Life here can be pretty perfect sometimes.”

  “I’m not holding my breath for perfect. I’m just trying to get by.”

  “Well, the part-time job is yours if you want it. I need a person to take over some of the weekend riding lessons temporarily to free me up for premarital counseling at the church and a couple of trips we have planned to Houston. That’s where Sierra’s family lives.”

  “I’d love to help. Thank you.”

  “Glad it worked out. Any friend of Hadley’s is a friend of ours.”

  Friend. She was, wasn’t she? She’d been encouraging about the boys, she was fun to talk to, she was even the person who’d given him the tip about contacting Jarrett. But if someone had asked him a month ago how he remembered Hadley, he would have had a hazy recollection of a know-it-all honor-roll student who sucked up to teachers and was blindly loyal to her crappy boyfriend. What was it Vi had said about Grayson’s father? He had a skewed perspective.

  So did I. Grayson had never considered Hadley a potential friend when he lived here, and he’d been wrong. He’d thought Ms. Templeton had been out to get him, and he’d been wrong. He’d bought in to his dad’s characterization of Ned Garcia as a cheating opportunist, and, according to Vi, he’d been wrong.

  If he did as Jarrett advised and kept an open mind about Cupid’s Bow, would he discover that he’d grossly misjudged others, too? It was disorienting, to have his long-held cynicism about the town challenged. But Sam and Tyler lived here now. He’d much rather they grow up in the place Jarrett and Hadley and Vi loved than the place he’d once believed it to be.

  * * *

  WHAT AM I DOING? Theoretically, Grayson was on a kolache run. He’d told Violet he would pick up breakfast Thursday morning at the Czech bakery on the other side of town. Yet he’d detoured into a neighborhood he only vaguely remembered from his teen years.

  He hadn’t slept well last night, had been plagued by his conscience. Every day he was in Cupid’s Bow, the more he regretted the actions of this past. The conversation he and Vi had about his father’s toxic anger had reminded him of the loan officer Grayson had resented for turning down his dad. He’d destroyed the man’s mailbox.

  Now here he was, back in the cul-de-sac where he’d gotten away with property damage. He hadn’t quite worked out what he was planning to say or do. It was about twelve years too late to buy a replacement mailbox—assuming the loan officer still lived here. Grayson only knew that his past actions were troubling him and, unless he took some action in the present, he had a lot of sleepless nights ahead.

  Cupid’s Bow was surrounded by small farmhouses, like Vi’s, and larger ranches. But closer to the quaint downtown district were subdivisions with matching brick homes and neatly maintained yards. The house he’d sought out wasn’t as well-kept as some of the others. The wooden shutters framing the windows needed new paint, and weeds were sprouting up through the grass. The pieces of a cracked birdbath sat to the side of the driveway and the car out front could use washing.

  He took the two steps onto the front porch, glad the wood seemed sturdier than the cracked shutters. Otherwise, it could be a safety hazard. Before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked twice across the front door, half-hoping no one was home.

  A moment later, a rail-thin woman with bright blue eyes opened the door. She looked like she was in her sixties, about the right age for the loan officer’s wife. “Are you here to haul off the birdbath?” she asked. “Let me get my wallet, so I can pay you for your time.”

  “No, ma’am. Although I’m happy to help you with that, unless someone else is already on his way. I’m, ah, Grayson Cox. Violet Duncan’s nephew?” Mention of Violet usually put a smile on people’s faces.

  This woman was no exception. She gave him a tentative smile. “And what can I do for you this morning?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, feeling like a fourteen-year-old hooligan about to face the principal. “Is Mr. Pembroke here? Stanley Pembroke?”

  “Oh, goodness, no.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I’m Martha Pembroke. My Stanley died in January. Pneumonia.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, ma’am.” What now? Had he upset her by mentioning her late husband? So much for atoning. He was making things worse.

  She cocked her head, studying him. “I don’t recognize you. How did you know Stanley?”

  “I just moved back to Cupid’s Bow this week, and Mr. Pembroke did some business with my dad once. I, uh, guess I wanted to talk to him about old times. I didn’t mean to bother you. And, again, I can take this birdbath with me, if you’d like.”

  “No need. If you aren’t the young man coming for it, then someone else should be along shortly.” Her eyes dimmed. “Shame about the bath, though. I loved watching the birds. I don’t know all their names—Stanley was the real ornithologist—but they sure are pretty. And so musical. Brighten up a whole day, don’t they?”

  In his head, he heard Hadley’s laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Anyway, welcome back to Cupid’s Bow. If you’re looking to reconnect with people to talk about old times, there’s a big town meeting tomorrow night. Everyone will be there.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” He gave her a friendly wave and headed for his truck
. Should he have apologized to her? It had been her mailbox, too, presumably. But he hadn’t even worked out what he would’ve said to the loan officer, much less the man’s grieving widow.

  Well, he’d wronged others besides Mr. Pembroke. That wasn’t something he was proud of, but it did mean there were still people out there he might be able to make amends to.

  Next time, have a game plan first.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME they arrived at the library Thursday afternoon, Grayson needed a win. After his visit to the Pembroke house that morning, he’d spent two miserable hours shopping with the boys, and it started raining before they could swing by the park. Grayson considered himself rodeo-tough, but getting cranky five-year-olds to try on clothes could break a man. And how were they already outgrowing everything? They hadn’t even been with him a month!

  But now that they’d reached the library, things were looking up. He could placate the boys with some new books, then take them home for mandatory naps. Perhaps he could soften the blow of naptime by letting them fall asleep in front of a cartoon.

  At the moment, however, neither boy showed signs of being half as tired as Grayson.

  Sam raced on ahead, eager to find books about stars. After their discussion in the truck about library voices, he spoke in an excited whisper, his words rushing together. “Hi, Miss Hadley! We’re back! I love the dinosaur books. Do you have some about con-stations? Me and Violet are gonna look at stars.”

  She grinned down at Sam. “We have a bunch of books with constellations. I’ll come help you find them after I get these ladies all checked out, okay?”

  “What a cutie,” one of the patrons in line murmured. She raised her eyes to Grayson. “Yours?”

  “I, uh, yes. He is. They are.” He put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, feeling both uncomfortable and proud.

  “Well, if they love books that much, you must be doing something right.”

  God, I hope so. An hour ago, he’d been battling for patience in a department store when Sam had a meltdown over a button—the boy had furiously announced to everyone in a five-mile radius “I can’t do it!” while simultaneously refusing Grayson’s help. At least no muttered curse words had escaped Grayson’s lips. The first week the boys had lived with him, he’d forgotten himself a dozen times.

 

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