Cowboy Daddy

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Cowboy Daddy Page 10

by Carolyne Aarsen


  When she stepped out of the car and the boys came barreling down the stairs toward her, however, she ignored her innate wariness, bent over and pulled them into her arms and into her heart.

  They smelled like hay. “Have you been helping your Uncle Kip haul hay again?” she asked, pulling back.

  “We were playing on the bales,” Justin reported. “Uncle Kip had to do some welding so he didn’t want us around.”

  “That’s good thinking.” Nicole pulled out a handkerchief and wiped a smear of jam from the corner of Justin’s mouth. “Looks like you had lunch already,” she said with a touch of disappointment. She had hoped to get them something to eat at the Stampede.

  “Just enough to take the edge off,” Tristan said. “At least that’s what Gramma told me.”

  “Great. Now you boys stay here inside my car and don’t move an inch. I want to say hi to your gramma, and when I come back we’re going.”

  She buckled the boys in, then fairly flew up the stairs. She was going to have so much fun. She was going to spoil these boys absolutely rotten.

  Then, just as she stepped onto the verandah, the door opened and Kip stood before her. He wore a clean shirt that she remembered Mary folding the first day she had come. The day they thought she was the housekeeper.

  His blue jeans were crisply new and he had shaved, making him look less gruff and more approachable. His hair, still damp from a shower, curled over his forehead and around his ears. He looked even more appealing than he usually did.

  Nicole pushed down her reaction and forced herself not to take a step back. “I want to say hello to your mother,” she said, hating the breathless tone in her voice. “I’ll just be a minute, then I’ll be leaving.” She ducked around him, catching a whiff of laundry soap and aftershave. She wondered where he was headed. A date? But he was always talking about how busy he was.

  Why do you care?

  Nicole pushed open the door of the porch and stepped into the house.

  Mary Cosgrove stood by the sink, leaning on her walker with one arm, doing dishes with her free hand. It looked awkward and uncomfortable and Nicole had to resist the urge to help her. But she was glad to see her up and about.

  “Hey, Mary. I’ve come to say hello,” Nicole said.

  Mary glanced up and a welcoming smile. “Well, that’s kind of you. As you can see, I’m using my walker.”

  “That’s great.” Nicole frowned as Mary washed another plate one-handed. “Where’s Isabelle?”

  “She’s in the bathroom.”

  Tricia used to do that, Nicole thought. Her little sister could make a bathroom break stretch out long enough to miss loading the dishwasher and cleaning up the kitchen. Her mother always let her get away with it.

  “She can easily help you,” Nicole said, regretting the sharp tone her voice took.

  “I know,” Mary said with a gentle sigh. “It’s less work to do the dishes myself than it is to make her help me.”

  “Kip should be helping you out.”

  Mary frowned. “Kip doesn’t have to do the dishes. He works hard enough on the ranch.”

  “I meant with Isabelle,” Nicole replied.

  Mary shrugged. “I don’t think he always knows what to do with her either.”

  Nicole bit back another reply, realizing that all this badgering and pushing was none of her business.

  “Well, I’m leaving with the boys. You take care,” Nicole said quietly. Then she left before she could offer more of her unneeded advice. The Cosgroves’ problems weren’t hers, she reminded herself as she closed the door of the house behind her.

  The unmistakable growl of Kip’s truck resonated through the quiet. Guess he was off on his date now that he didn’t have to watch the twins.

  She squinted against the sun then lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she looked at her car. Empty.

  “Justin. Tristan. Where are you?” she called, walking toward her car, her gaze flickering over the yard. She was so sure she had told them to stay put.

  Then she heard the honk of a horn and saw Justin leaning out the back window of Kip’s truck, waving at her.

  What in the world was going on? And where did Kip Cosgrove think he was going with the boys?

  She marched over to the driver’s window and as she did, Kip rolled it down.

  “I thought it would be better if we took my truck. There’s more room for all of us than in that car you’re driving.”

  “What…how…” she sputtered, trying to comprehend what he was saying.

  “I’m coming along,” he announced pushing his cowboy hat back on his head.

  Anger washed over her. She didn’t want to share her time with the boys. Especially not with him.

  “C’mon, Auntie Nicole. Let’s go,” Tristan said, leaning out of the back window. “We don’t want to miss anything.”

  She felt suddenly impotent, unable to speak openly in front of the boys, her own feelings a tangle of mixed emotions. She grabbed onto her anger, suspecting she would need it as a defense. “I understood the boys and I were going alone…”

  Kip shrugged. “You understood wrong. Are you coming? It’s a long drive. Don’t want to waste any time.” His steady gaze held hers and she read resolute determination.

  Nicole tried to hold her ground as various emotions danced through her head. Anger, yes, but behind that a vague hungering for a chance to spend more time with this man.

  She truncated that thought. She and Kip could never be anything but adversaries.

  “I’ll get my purse.”

  Ten minutes later the truck’s tires hummed on the asphalt, a country song whined from the radio and the boys narrated the trip from the backseat.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvie live there,” Justin said. “Last year when Isabelle took us out trick-or-treating, we got four chocolate bars from them. They were yummy. But Mr. Jorritsma always has the best candy and he brings honey to the farmers’ market.”

  They told her about trips to see friends, play dates with cousins and how cute Auntie Doreen’s brand-new baby was.

  The plus of all that chatter was that Nicole didn’t have to say anything to Kip.

  So she formed her lips into a smile and nodded, listening to the boys, all the while pretending not to be fully aware of the tall figure sitting behind the wheel. He steered one-handed, the other resting on the open window as he drove, looking as comfortable as if he were lounging on a couch watching television.

  She wished she felt as comfortable. She had hoped to avoid him today, but they sat mere feet from each other, and with each mile her anger seemed more foolish. He was here. He wasn’t going away. May as well enjoy her time with the boys.

  “So what did you boys do this morning?” she asked, half turning in the seat so she could focus on them.

  “Uncle Kip got up real, real early,” Justin said.

  “He said he wanted to get done on time ’cause he had a hot date.” Tristan frowned. “What’s a hot date?”

  She couldn’t stop a quick glance Kip’s way. He was rolling his eyes and a flush warmed her cheeks. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know exactly what Kip meant by that. Sarcasm, most likely.

  “I think it means that the day was going to be warm,” Nicole said, letting him off the hook.

  “And he was whistling, even though he had to get up early and work on the stupid welder,” Tristan added.

  “You don’t need to say that,” Kip said with a note of reprimand.

  “That’s what you called it.”

  “I shouldn’t have, okay?”

  “Radioactive hearing,” Nicole murmured, shooting Kip a quick glance.

  He shrugged. “I’ve got to learn to keep my big mouth shut.”

  She suspected he was referring to his previous comment but wasn’t sure she wanted to analyze that too much.

  “Have you been to Stampede?” Justin asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.

  “No. I’ve never been, and what do you think you’re doing?”

>   “Justin, get back in your seat and buckle up,” Kip said at exactly the same time.

  We sound like parents, Nicole thought, forcing herself to keep looking at her nephew.

  Justin glanced from Nicole to Kip as if trying to figure this arrangement out.

  “Justin—”

  “Now—”

  “Okay, okay. You both don’t have to be so bossy.”

  Nicole was about to reprimand him again, but held back in case Kip had the same idea. At least when it came to the boys’ safety, they agreed.

  “I’m bored,” Justin grumbled after he buckled up.

  “Then let’s play a driving game. We can play I Spy.”

  “How do you play that?” Tristan asked.

  Nicole explained the rules and soon they were guessing all kinds of things from the feather in the hatband of Uncle Kip’s cowboy hat to the pattern stitched into their little cowboy boots to the color of Nicole’s eyes.

  “I think they’re blue,” Tristan said, leaning forward as if to get a better look.

  “Nuh-uh. Gray,” Justin announced.

  “What color are they, Auntie Nicole?” Tristan asked.

  “I don’t know. One of my foster mothers said they were the color of dishwater,” Nicole said with a light laugh. She didn’t really want to talk about her eyes. Not with Kip sitting next to her, smiling and glancing at her from time to time as if trying to decide for himself on their color.

  “What’s a foster mother?” Justin asked.

  Trust him not to miss the slightest slip of the tongue, Nicole thought.

  “A foster mother is someone who takes care of children when they can’t live at their own place,” Nicole said with a smile. “Now it’s my turn. I spy with my little eye—”

  “You said you had foster mothers,” Justin interrupted. “How many did you have?”

  “Doesn’t matter how many—”

  “How could you have more than one? Didn’t you have your own mother?”

  “My mother died when I was very little,” Nicole said. “So I went to live with another family—”

  “Didn’t your dad take care of you?” Tristan asked.

  “My father…was a busy man. He was gone a lot.”

  “Did your dad miss you when he was gone?” Justin asked.

  Nicole wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She often wondered herself. Her father never seemed excessively eager to return to her, and when he did come it was usually a brief appearance, then he was gone again.

  “I hope he did,” she said quietly.

  “Where did you live when he was gone?” Justin asked.

  “I lived with my auntie for a while.”

  “Was she a foster mom?”

  Nicole wished they would get off this topic already so she simply said yes.

  “But you had lots of foster moms.”

  They weren’t going to quit. She sighed and knew she had to give them the entire rundown.

  “I lived with my auntie for a while, and when my dad died and she couldn’t take care of me anymore she put me in a foster home. When they couldn’t take care of me anymore, they put me in another one. Then I got adopted by the Williams family. So that’s my story. Now why don’t you tell me yours?” she said. Though she knew it well, she wanted to stop talking about her past. It was over and done with, thanks to Sam and Norah Williams.

  Besides, she didn’t like the way Kip was looking at her. The faint frown on his face as if he was trying to figure out what to think of her now that he knew more about her past.

  “Our dad died too,” Justin said. “But he took care of us all the time and so did Uncle Kip.”

  “You had lots of mothers and had lots of fathers but we have a mommy and we don’t know where she is,” Tristan said, a gentle sadness entering his voice.

  Nicole didn’t want to look at Kip, knowing they were both thinking about Tricia and when they should tell the boys, but at the same time, like a magnetic force, their eyes met. In his gaze she saw concern and, at the same time, an indefinable emotion that called to her loneliness.

  She tore her gaze away as she struggled to be analytical about the situation. He was a single, attractive man. She was a single woman. They were spending a lot of time together. So something was bound to happen.

  “Uncle Kip used to race chuck wagons, but he doesn’t anymore. He gots trophies. Lots of trophies.”

  “Can we watch the chuck-wagon races tonight, Uncle Kip?” Justin asked, suddenly excited.

  Kip shrugged and shot another glance at Nicole. “I don’t know if Nicole is interested.”

  “I’ve never seen a chuck-wagon race,” she said. “It sounds very exciting.”

  “We’ll see.” Then Kip straightened, his attention focussed on his driving as they entered Calgary. The traffic got busier and he turned off the radio, and soon they were hemmed in by vehicles all racing toward the next traffic light. They made their way slowly up the McLeod Trail. Though Nicole travelled in traffic when she lived in Toronto, she found the sudden busyness disconcerting and, surprisingly, annoying.

  Funny how used she had gotten to driving quiet roads from the motel to the ranch and how much she enjoyed it. Well, she’d have to get used to traffic soon enough when she and the boys moved back to Toronto.

  After numerous intersections and hundreds of vehicles, Kip pulled off into a huge parking lot and drove around until he finally found an empty spot big enough for the truck.

  Nicole got out before he even had the truck turned off and was opening the back door to let the boys out. Tristan was already unbuckled and he jumped into her outstretched arms. Justin, however, went to Kip.

  As Nicole walked around the truck she heard the squeal of people, the pounding music from some of the rides and the general hubbub emitted by fairgrounds the world over. She felt a peculiar sense of anticipation. She’d been to a fair only once in her life.

  “Before we go any farther, I have to say something to you boys.” Kip caught the boys by the hand and knelt down so that he was face to face with them. “We’re going to a very busy place. You have to remember to stay close. You’re not to run off. You have to be holding either Nicole’s or my hand. Do you understand?”

  They both nodded.

  “Do you both understand?” he repeated again.

  “Yes. We do,” they both said again.

  “Okay, then, as long as that’s clear, let’s go.”

  Tristan grabbed Nicole’s hand, Justin caught Kip’s and then the boys held each others, anchoring the adults.

  Just like a family.

  Nicole wanted to push the thought aside, but at the same time, she was tired of juggling her feelings. Trying to ignore her attraction to Kip and her appreciation of who he was.

  This was supposed to be a fun time, and she intended to enjoy herself. This was like a little holiday. She wasn’t thinking past today. She was with a good-looking man and she was free from responsibilities for the day.

  Why not simply enjoy it?

  Chapter Ten

  It had been years since he’d been to Stampede. Everywhere Kip looked he saw cowboy hats, blue jeans and cowboy boots. Most were the brand-new hats of the once-a-year cowboys, but a lot were well-worn. The tinny sounds of carousels and blaring music from busy rides mingled with the oily scent of funnel cakes and hot dogs.

  Though he’d crawled out of bed at some ridiculous hour so he could get done with the farm work on time, it was worth every minute of lack of sleep to see the looks of wonder on the boys’ faces as they stood in the center of this milling crowd.

  He glanced over at Nicole, who was glancing around with a bemused look on her face. He thought of her comments in the truck and wondered how many fairs she’d been to in her life. He doubted very many.

  Though she’d spoken quietly and unemotionally about her past, Kip had sensed a hidden pain and sorrow that made him see her through different eyes. Her life hadn’t been so privileged after all.

  “So where do we
start?” Nicole asked.

  “For now we just wander around, and take it all in.”

  “We should buy Auntie Nicole a cowboy hat,” Tristan said.

  “I don’t know if Auntie Nicole can pull off a cowboy hat.” Kip glanced at Nicole’s distressed blue jeans and silk shirt.

  “I chased cows the other day,” Nicole protested. “I think I’m a good candidate for a cowboy hat.”

  “I don’t know if that’s enough of a qualification,” he said, responding to her humor.

  “I also know how to ride a horse,” she said with another grin as she stepped aside to avoid a man pushing a baby buggy.

  “And you probably ride English,” Kip said, giving Tristan’s hand a bit of a tug, reminding him to stay close.

  “It’s not as easy as it looks,” she replied.

  “Auntie Nicole should ride the horses at the ranch,” Tristan said, jumping with excitement. “Then we can too.”

  Kip shook his head. “I don’t think so, buddy.”

  Nicole shot him a puzzled glance, and though he wasn’t about to elaborate, he got the feeling that sometime or another she would ask him more about it.

  They wandered through the crowds and past rides, working their way to the events’ barns. They turned a corner and came upon a group of people in a circle cheering on three children riding pedal tractors racing each other to a finish line.

  When Justin saw this he tried to break free of Kip’s hand. “Can we race? Please?”

  Kip frowned as he looked over the crowd.

  “I’m here too, you know,” Nicole said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can watch the boys too.” She added a crooked smile which made him wonder if she was teasing him just a bit.

  He couldn’t help but smile back. A relaxed Nicole was, he had to admit, fun to be around. “Okay. I guess it’ll be fine.”

  “Goody.” Justin grabbed Tristan’s hand.

  Kip let them go to stand in line while he and Nicole moved in closer. People walked around them and gathered ahead of them, yet Kip felt so aware of Nicole it was as if no one else existed.

  “So tell me a bit about your chuck-wagon racing. Do you miss it?” Though her question was quiet, he sensed her sympathy.

 

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