The Rancher's Conditions

by R. S. Chapman

  “So, how was lunch?” Barb asked nonchalantly, impatient to hear the juicy facts of Layne’s meeting with Erik Rivers.

  “It was okay,” Layne replied, knowing quite well that Barb could hardly wait to hear all about it. “I had a roast beef sandwich and a garden salad. Very tasty.”

  “Damnit, Layne, tell me! Inquiring minds want to know. Don’t give me that crap.”

  Layne finally gave in to her demand and told her in detail what had transpired. “And I think I believe him,” she concluded, “when he told me about Joyce and his, our, rather, failed attempt at sex.”

  “Go through that sex part again, please? Bit by juicy bit?” Barb said, moving to the edge of her chair.

  “Oh for Pete’s sake!” Layne said, giving her a friendly punch on the shoulder. Then, in a serious tone, she continued. “So you’re sure it’s okay to leave Lucy with you while Mrs. Gerhardt and I are in court?”

  Barb agreed it would be no problem taking care of the sweet little girl, and besides, she needed the practice in being a mother. She was seeing more and more of the barbecue cowboy, and who knew where that could lead.

  ~ ~ ~

  Judge Jordan finally ordered Erik’s lawyer to desist from badgering Mrs. Gerhardt. The judge told him that the court was aware of her financial situation, her housing situation, and her age. Even Erik was upset at his badgering. There was no need to pound away on those facts.

  Then it became Layne’s turn to question Erik. “Mr. Rivers,” she started quietly, “what is your experience as a parent?”

  In a flash, Erik could see it coming. He was going to have little defense against this line of questioning. “I have no experience as an actual parent, although I care for many young animals.”

  Oh boy. “So then, it’s safe to say that all of your experience is with four-legged children?”

  “Well . . .”

  “The problem with that, Mr. Rivers, is that the child we are talking about here is two-legged.”

  “This is leading nowhere,” Judge Jordan interrupted dryly. “Let’s all assume we are talking about plain children, in the normal sense.”

  “Fine. Mr. Rivers,” Layne continued, looking back to him, “exactly what do you know about six-year-old girls?”

  Erik’s anger started to smolder, as he realized he knew very little about six-year-old girls, and Layne was certainly exposing this shortcoming.

  “Not much,” he answered curtly, “but not many new fathers do.”

  “I think you’re referring to teenage girls, Mr. Rivers,” Layne replied with a small smile. “No one understands them. But what do you know about a young girl’s adolescence, hygiene, proper nutrition, health care, and clothing? Things like that? I think, Mr. Rivers, you don’t have a clue as to what you are asking for. You would not know where to start, with a six-year-old child in your life.”

  This line of Layne’s questioning went on for about thirty minutes longer, and at the end of it, Erik was well aware that he would not be awarded custody of Lucy. The best he could hope for were generous visitation rights.

  Judge Jordan called Erik and Molly to the bench. He started by speaking directly to Erik. “Mr. Rivers,” he said, “although this court grants custody of Lucy Gerhardt to the grandmother, Mrs. Molly Gerhardt, you are certainly entitled to visitation rights. It is the judgement of this court that you two work this out yourselves, without the court’s input, but subject to the court’s approval, of course. Is this satisfactory with both of you?”

  Molly and Erik nodded their approval.

  “Be aware that certain restrictions apply,” the judge said, glancing up from his papers. “The child cannot miss school, and therefore visitation will only be allowed, as an example, on weekends, school holidays, and during the summer. I will leave those decisions to you,” he said. “This court will review any agreement you come to, and I expect it to be on my desk by the end of the month. Any questions?”

  Neither Erik nor Molly had any questions, so they turned and started to walk back to their respective attorneys.

  “I suppose we should start,” Erik said, turning to Molly. “Do we need the lawyers for this?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Molly said hesitantly, “I’d like Layne to sit with us. Are you okay with that?”

  “That’s fine,” Erik replied, “although I see no need for Mr. Baylor to join us.” He waved Baylor over and thanked him for his services but let him know he was no longer needed this particular day.

  As Erik watched his lawyer leave, he joined Layne behind the bar railing and offered her his hand.

  “Congratulations,” he said curtly. “When does the gloating begin?”

  “The only thing that is about to begin for you, Mr. Rivers,” Layne replied, holding back the flash of anger that jolted her, “is meeting your niece, Lucy. We’re all hungry, at least Molly and I are, and I’m sure by now Lucy is too. She’s waiting in our office with Barb. We’re going to get her and have lunch. You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”

  Suddenly, the chips were down and the cards on the table for Erik, and Layne could see it in his eyes. He was frightened, frightened of meeting a child he had not seen since she was an infant. What would he say? What would he do? What would the child do? His expression was close to panic, and Layne’s anger was swept away in a flood of sympathy.

  “Well,” Layne asked again, but softly this time, “would you want to join us? You’ve got to meet this child sometime. And you and Molly can start working out some sort of visitation arrangement.”

  Erik’s eyes met hers, and she could see he really had little choice. “Yes, I’ll join you. Where?”

  “You remember the Stirring Spoon café? Where we had our little . . . discussion?”

  Erik nodded.

  “Why don’t you take Molly and meet us there?” She looked from Erik to Molly, noting their startled concern at the suggestion of being thrown together. “That will give you a little alone time to get to know each other while I get Lucy.” She settled her gaze on Molly. “That would be okay with you, wouldn’t it?”

  Now it was Molly’s turn for the deer-in-the-headlights look. “Oh dear,” she said, “is that really such a good idea? I think I’d rather not.”

  “Molly,” Layne replied, “you and Mr. Rivers share a very, very common interest, and like it or not, you’re going to be spending a lot of time together, either in person or on the phone, so you’d both better start getting used to it.” She turned to Erik. “And, Mr. Rivers,” she added, “you’d better start getting used to it also.”

  Molly and Erik turned to look at one another, and he slowly offered his hand. After a slight hesitation, Molly smiled and clasped it.

  The ice was broken.

  ~ ~ ~

  Once Layne found a parking space, she and Lucy walked down the sidewalk to the Stirring Spoon. They stopped outside and peered through the window. Layne was astonished to see Molly and Erik in a booth, laughing, relaxed and enjoying each other’s company.

  Layne held the door for the little girl and once inside, Lucy ran straight into Molly’s arms. After a long, warm hug, Lucy backed away and approached the side of the booth where Erik was seated. “I know who you are,” she said, sliding in beside him and holding out her hand. “You’re my uncle, Mr. Rivers, aren’t you?”

  Totally surprised, but with a big smile, Erik took her hand. “Yes I am, but my friends,” he replied, casting his eyes directly to Layne, “call me Erik. I’d really like it if you’d call me Uncle Erik.”

  Lucy glanced at her grandmother, who nodded.

  “So, what did you talk about?” Layne asked, looking to Molly and Erik, ignoring his direct jibe. “Anything settled?”

  “Actually yes,” Erik answered. “For a start, Molly and I have agreed that they’ll spend Thanksgiving w
ith me at the ranch, and we have tentative ideas for other times. I think Judge Jordan will give everything a green light.”

  Wow, Layne thought. He’s calling her Molly, on a first-name basis already, and already had plans for Thanksgiving, no less. “Well, that’s a great start,” she said to Molly, glancing at her watch. “I should be getting you home. It’s later than I thought.”

  “No,” Erik said, “I’ll be taking them home.” He glanced at Layne. “If you don’t mind?”

  That was a surprise, and even though his question was sarcastic, it was fine with her. The thought of the long round trip was not appealing. While she didn’t show it outwardly, the day had been long and stressful. “I don’t mind,” she replied thankfully as she watched Molly and Lucy leave for a potty break before the trip.

  “I really goofed up,” Erik admitted, once they were alone. “Molly is a wonderful woman. I really like her. I should have connected with her years ago. And Lucy. How sweet can a little girl get!” He looked hard at Layne. “If it hadn’t been for you, none of this would have happened. I guess I have you to thank.”

  Layne forced a smiling nod before turning away. Erik was too close, and his eyes were too beautiful, and if she backed away too slowly, sure as hell she’d pull him in and kiss him.

  ~ ~ ~

  Thanksgiving was a couple days away, and Barb recently informed Layne that she was planning on celebrating the day with her now-steady boyfriend, the young cowboy, and his parents. The invitation was open if she wished to join them. Barb was spending more and more nights away from the apartment, and the handwriting was on the wall. Layne knew it wouldn’t be long before she had the place all to herself. The lease was up for renewal in two months, so she had to make a decision whether keep the place for herself or not.

  It was Sunday afternoon and Layne was sitting on the apartment couch mulling these thoughts over, when they were interrupted by the musical signal of her cell phone. Erik’s cell number flashed across the screen.

  She hesitated a short moment before deciding to answer it. Why the hell was her heart suddenly pounding? “This is Layne.”

  “Layne,” he said, “this is Erik. Have you got a minute to talk?”

  Layne decided there was little reason not to. The custody arrangements and visitations were settled and approved by the court. What could he possibly want? “Sure,” she replied somewhat warily.

  “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”

  A bit of relief swept through Layne. “Yes, actually. I understand the Stirring Spoon puts on quite a spread.”

  “Your friend Barb. Is she going with you?”

  “No, she’s got a serious boyfriend now. She’ll be with him, at his parents.”

  “Lucky him! So you’re alone.”

  “Yup.” Short, sweet, and cold.

  “How’d you like to join Lucy and Molly and me for Thanksgiving?”

  How quickly things change. “Um, sure,” Layne said after a slight hesitation, wishing her previous reply hadn’t been so curt. “That would be fun. What can I bring?”

  “Just yourself. But, there are conditions. Three, to be exact.”

  Crap. Conditions again. Now what? “And they are . . .?” she asked cautiously. She was damned if she’d put up with any more of his conditions nonsense.

  “Well,” Erik said, “I understand your dislike of my conditions, but just allow me to pass these three by you, okay?”

  Layne let out a weary sigh. “Go ahead.”

  “First of all, I’m going to do most of the cooking, but maybe you and the ladies could putter around the kitchen and keep me company. I get lonesome in there, all alone. That’s sort of condition number one. Can you work with that?”

  That was certainly not what she expected. “I suppose so.” Layne smiled into the phone. “What are the other two?”

  “How are you with ideas for a little girl’s bedroom?”

  “Hadn’t really given it much thought,” she replied. “Why?”

  “I need your ideas on decorating Lucy’s bedroom. It’s gotta be fantastic for when she visits me. So, the second condition is for you to consider this request. I guess it’s really a plea, not a condition.”

  “Okay, I can do that. In fact, I’d love doing that.” She paused briefly. “And number three is . . .?”

  “I guess this is not really a condition, but rather a deep-down, heart-felt request. I wish you’d call me Erik again.”

  That surprised Layne most of all. Her fears of a doomed relationship with Erik Rivers were washed away by his simple plea. The custody battle turned out not to be a battle at all, but a godsend in disguise.

  “Okay,” Layne agreed quietly, “I guess I can do that. After all, you’ve invited me to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “I don’t mean just for Thanksgiving, or just because of Thanksgiving. I was kind of thinking of always and forever.”

  “I knew what you meant . . . Erik. And yes, I can do that.” She paused for a moment. “See? I’ve done it already.”

  “Thank you,” was his simple reply.

  ~ ~ ~

  As Layne parked her car by Erik’s home, Lucy jumped off the swing and ran to hug her. “Hi, Layne,” she said breathlessly. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

  “Happy Thanksgiving to you too,” Layne replied, releasing her hug and stepping back to look at Lucy. She was a cowgirl, head to toe! Cowboy hat, western shirt and dress, and real cowboy boots.

  “Goodness,” Layne said, taking another step back to get the full picture, “do you ever look nice.”

  Lucy did a little twirl, causing the skirt to billow out. “I’m a real cowgirl now, aren’t I?”

  “You certainly are,” Layne agreed. “Love the hat and boots.”

  Lucy twirled again. “Uncle Erik bought this for me. He took Nana and me shopping last night, and even promised to get me my very own horse and maybe a puppy sometime. And,” she went on, “you should have seen Uncle Erik’s truck. It was full of stuff!”

  “Stuff? What kind of stuff, honey?”

  “Food, silly! Food for us when we’re visiting,” She laughed.

  Layne slowly shook her head, marveling at the revelation. The real Erik Rivers finally revealed himself. A total, total softy, in love with this darling little girl! Layne waited a moment for the tears to stop their threat, then took Lucy’s little hand and started to the house.

  With all her might, Lucy pushed open the massive door in the entry, then found Layne’s hand.

  “Come on,” Lucy said, pulling her along, “I know how to get to the kitchen.”

  After no false turns and no dead-ends, Lucy more or less dragged Layne to the kitchen, although in reality, Layne probably could have found it herself, merely by following her nose to the delicious smells coming from it.

  After an unsure hesitation, Erik met her with a warm hug, as did Molly.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” they said, almost in unison.

  “Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving to you too.” Layne couldn’t help but notice Molly’s clothes. “That’s a beautiful dress, Molly!”

  Molly did her own little twirl around the kitchen floor. “Thank you.” She smiled. “Erik insisted on buying it for me. He refused to take no for an answer.” She twirled again. “But isn’t it beautiful?”

  Layne now knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that everything in Lucy’s life would be fine. And Molly’s life would be better too.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Oh dear,” Molly exclaimed, setting the small goblet of wine back on the table. “It’s been many years since I’ve had an after-dinner cocktail. I hope I don’t make a fool of myself.”

  Erik looked across the chaotic remains of a fantastic Thanksgiving meal. “Molly,” he smiled, “I’ll keep my eye on you, don’t worry.”

&n
bsp; Layne glanced at Erik, knowing that he meant it. Warmth spread through her and again she blinked back tears. Whether Molly and Lucy realized it or not, he was their protector, their Fairy Godfather.

  Erik folded his napkin and placed it neatly on the table. “Well,” he said, referring to the remnants of the dinner, “let’s let this stay for a while. It’s such a beautiful day. We should go out and enjoy it.”

  He pushed away from the table, but Layne stopped him. “No, you three go.” She nodded toward Molly and Lucy. “I’ll clean up.”

  Now it was Molly’s turn. “No,” she said to Erik, “you and Lucy go. I’ll stay with Layne and clean up.” She waved toward the outside. “Go, go!”

  That was all Erik needed. He jumped from the table and with Lucy’s little hand in his, skipped their way outside.

  Layne and Molly went to a window and watched them skip across the lawn toward the horse stable. “I wish we could have done this years ago,” Molly lamented. “He obviously adores Lucy, and she adores him. I’m wondering if I should have tried to find Erik, but honestly, I never thought about it. I didn’t keep Lucy away on purpose.”

  “I’m sure he realizes that now, and actually, he told me that his custody request was the best thing that ever happened. It brought you all together. He found that you aren’t a wicked witch, and you found out that he isn’t some sort of horrible ogre.”

  As they backed away from the window, Molly turned to Layne. “Um,” she started, “I certainly don’t mean to put my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but is there anything going on between you and Erik?”

  That caught Layne by surprise. “No,” she started quickly, but then realized there was no reason to lie to Molly. “Well, that’s actually not entirely true,” she corrected. “I started out disliking him immensely, then we became friends, then I disliked him again, and then he disliked me, and now I think we might be friends again, but I’m not really sure of that.”

  “Goodness,” Molly exclaimed, “that’s soap-opera material.”