“He’s your goat. Not mine. If he kills your cat, then don’t come crying to me. I’m going back in the house to put dinner on the table.” Annie Rose turned around in time to see Mason crossing the yard in long strides.
Lily had Jeb in a death grip by his collar, dragging him back to the pen, with Gabby right behind her, manhandling Djali. O’Malley jumped down from his perch, shot across the yard like a tornado, crawled right up Mason’s frame as if he were a pecan tree, all the way to his shoulder, and jumped off into the pickup bed.
“What in the hell happened?” he hollered.
“The goats got out of their pen and treed O’Malley. Lily is of the opinion that she doesn’t want to be a goat herder anymore, but I vote that she has to keep him a good deal longer to learn her lesson.” Annie Rose held the door open for him. “By the time you get washed up, they’ll have them back in the pens.”
“You are the Mama-Nanny. I’ll support your decision.” He adjusted the water in the mudroom sink and washed his hands. “Is that roast that I smell?”
“It is, and the girls helped make the yeast rolls. They’re a lot of fun, Mason.”
“Even when the goats get out of the pen?”
“My God, you are bleeding. It’s spotting your shirt. Take it off so I can clean the wounds. Cat claws are dirty and can cause a fever that’s miserable.” She grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around to unbutton his shirt. She had to tiptoe to pull it over his shoulders and toss it over on the washer. Quickly, she lathered up her hands with soap and cleaned each puncture wound dotting his hard body from belly button to up over his shoulder and halfway down his back.
“Where is the medicine cabinet?” she asked.
He nodded toward the cabinet above the sink. She rinsed her hands and reached for the familiar brown bottle and a tube of ointment. She wiped the soap away with a clean washcloth, then flushed the claw marks clean with hydrogen peroxide before she dotted each one with an antibiotic ointment. “I’d put Band-Aids on each one, but I think the bleeding has stopped now, and it would be better for them to air out.”
“Yes, Dr. Annie,” he said.
“Here they come. You’d better go find another shirt. They’ll kill that cat if they think he hurt their daddy. They’ve already threatened both cat and goats,” she said. And besides, touching his hard body had her in a fizz that would take a few minutes to settle.
The girls washed the goat smell from their hands in the sink, and Annie Rose held her own hands out to see if they were shaking as badly as her insides. To her surprise, they were steady as a rock.
Mason changed into a pale blue pocket T-shirt that hugged his body like a glove, every taut muscle begging to be touched. Annie Rose was glad that Gabby started to talk to ease the silence in the room.
“Them damn goats got out of the pen and treed poor old O’Malley on the porch post and that’s why O’Malley was running away. He must have thought you were a tree, Daddy. Did he hurt you?” Gabby asked.
Mason shook his head but couldn’t get a word in edgewise before Lily started.
“And Mama-Nanny says that I can’t sell Jeb at the auction next week. I swear to God, Daddy, that goat is more trouble than he’s worth, and I don’t know why I even wanted one for my birthday.”
Gabby started while Lily caught her breath, “We can’t sell them, Lily. It would hurt Kenna’s feelings, and besides, if we did, Doc might give us a shot just to get even, since he gave them to us.”
“Well, shit. I’m not even going to apologize for saying that, Daddy, because it’s the way I feel,” Lily said.
Mason sipped at his sweet tea and raised an eyebrow toward Annie Rose.
She shrugged. “Just another day in paradise.”
***
Gabby and Lily were reading.
Mason was in his office.
Annie Rose slipped out the front door.
The swing had become her friend and called to her to come out and play. Evening had always been her favorite time of the day: a time to sift through the happenings and save the sweet memories for another time when there might not be any, to giggle again at the antics of two girls, two goats, and a rangy old tomcat named O’Malley.
Mason surprised her when he sat down on his end of the swing. Her reflexes were getting entirely too lax if someone could sneak up on her like that. She glanced his way to see that he was wearing lounge pants, a tank top, and no shoes. The darkness couldn’t cover a five-o’clock shadow or erase the scent that was a mixture of soap and something far more personal that belonged to Mason and no one else.
“So did you like this day in paradise?” he asked.
He handed her a longneck bottle of beer so cold that the sides were sweating. She rolled it around on her forehead before she twisted the cap off and took a long gulp. “Thank you. That really hits the spot on a hot night. And yes, boss man, I liked this day.”
His mouth turned up in a slightly crooked grin. “Not boss man. Just Mason. I told you that. Here’s hoping you stay here for a long, long time.” He tipped his bottle over to touch hers.
“That’s my intention right now… Mason.”
“I talked to the girls and kissed them good night. They told me how they made that delicious mousse that we had for dinner. Lily says she might be a chef when she’s not touring with her country music band.” He chuckled.
“It’ll take a little more than instant pudding, whipped topping, and chocolate curls to turn her into a chef, but it’s a start. We practiced the fiddle today for an hour and you’re going to be surprised on Friday night.”
“What is she going to play?” he asked.
“Well, it’s not ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia,’ but it could be in a few months. She’s really got an ear and a handle on how to play that thing. You sure she hasn’t been sneaking it out of your room?”
“Honey, I’m never sure of anything when it comes to those two. My grandpa could make that thing do everything but tell you bedtime stories. Maybe she picked up the ability to play from him. She’s sure pestered me a long time about it, but her mama wanted them to take piano lessons, so I tried to steer them in that direction.”
Annie Rose put the swing in motion again and tucked her feet up under her, sitting cross-legged and facing Mason. “I showed her three chords yesterday. I figured I’d have to show her again today, but when I put the lyrics and music in front of her, she remembered, and she’s pretty damn good at knowing exactly when to change.”
“So I might have a country music star and a chef?” he teased.
She took another sip of her beer and set it on the porch. “The sky is the limit where those two are concerned.”
He was ten steps past sexy in that gauze undershirt. They called them wifebeater shirts, but something down deep in her soul told her that Mason Harper was not a wife beater. He might argue and raise his voice, but he’d never lift his fist to a woman he loved. It was in the eyes, like her mama said.
“You ever get mad enough to hit a woman?” she asked bluntly.
“Yep, I have. Lots of times. But I didn’t. I walked out, slammed the door, and kept walking ’til I got to the barn.”
“What’d you do then, hit a bale of hay?” she asked, imagining those big arms hugging her close rather than slinging punches at a hay bale.
“No, I usually worked like a fiend, cleaning stalls that didn’t need cleaning or else I crawled up on a four-wheeler and drove it out to Nash’s place so recklessly that only the grace of God kept me safe. Nash and I would sit on his porch, sometimes without saying a word until I cooled down, and then I’d come back home.”
“Nash is your friend?”
“More than that. He’s my foreman Skip’s granddad. He was the foreman before Skip, and he’s a wise old fart.” Mason’s handsome face lit up in a smile that rivaled the stars in the heavens.
&nbs
p; “So Holly could make you that mad?” Annie Rose asked.
“Yep, she had red hair and a temper to go with it. We argued and we disagreed, but we loved each other. I would have never, ever hit her.”
“What did you do then? After you came back into the house?”
“Well, we’d both cooled off enough by then to talk about the problem.”
“Which was?”
“It’s hard to explain now, but it was important to both of us that we had our own way, but that wasn’t enough. The other one had to approve and like the decision. Her temper got worse about six weeks before she died and we had some really big arguments, mostly about nothing. I chalked it up to her job and two feisty girls needing so much attention at night. Now I wonder if it wasn’t that thing in her head all along.”
“The brain is a tricky little thing and aneurisms are crazy. We don’t know what kind of effect they have before they decide to explode.”
“Tell me about Nicky.” He changed the subject so quickly that she had to think fast to keep up.
Annie Rose scratched her left eyebrow. Failing number three—messing with her eyebrow when she didn’t want to talk about something, but Mason had been open about his wife, so she should reciprocate.
Therapy is talking to strangers about personal things.
Gina Lou, her best friend, had told her to find a damn good therapist when she disappeared, but fear kept her from doing it. What if Nicky had found her because she’d sought out a doctor? But talking to Mason wasn’t difficult at all. It was like she was talking to a friend.
“You are so strong and wise. Why would you ever fall for a playboy?” Mason asked.
The laughter that escaped was more sarcastic than happy. “A strong, wise woman would have seen through him, listened to her heart and her friends. I didn’t do any of those things, so it’s hard to trust my judgment about anything anymore.”
Mason waited.
“He had a minor fender bender and came into the ER where I was working. Looking back, it was most likely my predecessor who got tired of his shit and tried to run him off the road. In my defense, he was damn good-looking and a charmer, even when he was whining about a few bruises on his pretty face. And I was in a very bad place in my life. My folks both died within six months of each other. I was on a guilt trip for selling the ranch, and I’d broken up with my boyfriend of three years a month before.”
“And he asked you out?”
“Not that night. We put an IV in his arm, filled him up with fluids and medicine, and sent him home with a couple of prescriptions. I got a dozen roses the next day with a lovely note thanking me for saving his life.”
Mason’s hand touched hers and she immediately jerked hers away. She tucked it firmly under her thigh.
“And?” he asked.
It took effort but she forced herself to unwind. Talking about Nicky always brought about the same knee-jerk reactions. “The next day he sent another dozen roses and a card asking me if he could call me. Ten minutes after the flowers arrived, the ER phone rang, and it was Nicky. That’s when he asked me out.”
“And you said no?”
“I said yes so fast that he probably wondered why he wasted his money on the second vase of roses. He was a smooth talker, and six weeks later we were living together. The third month after our first date, he gave me an engagement ring. On the fourth month, he gave me my first black eye.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No need for apologies. After that first one, he was careful not to leave bruises where they could be seen. I made excuses for him until one morning I woke up and realized that the diamond ring on my finger had bought me a life of hell. That’s the day I started planning my escape. It took several weeks and a lot of patience before I could leave, but when I did, I never regretted my decision.”
“Therapy?” he asked.
She shook her head. “You?”
“Couldn’t do it. Mother thought I should, but how do you tell your darkest secrets to a stranger?” Mason asked.
“Exactly, and yet here I sit doing just that.”
“Hey!” He patted her on the knee and she didn’t tense up. “We have lived through goats and tomcats and cleaning two little girls’ rooms. I’d say that makes us pretty good friends.”
“It does, and friends can tell each other anything.”
“Almost. I’m not going to tell you about the first time I got drunk.” He laughed.
“Oh, honey, I’m not so sure we’ll ever be that good of friends that I’d discuss my first drunk with you,” she told him.
He stood and pulled her up with him. “I should make sure the honor system is working tonight.”
“Me, too.”
He took one step then stopped.” I like talking to you, Annie Rose.”
“Me, too,” she said again.
“Let’s go make sure the lights are out. Maybe we’ll run into each other again out here on the porch.”
“It’s my favorite part of the day. That swing and I are pretty good friends now,” she said.
Lights were out.
Mason disappeared into his room and closed the door softly.
Annie Rose padded down the stairs, went to her tiny little apartment, but she was too wound up to sleep. She folded the throw from the back of the sofa and put it over the recliner, picked up a leaf she’d tracked in from the porch, and put it in the trash. Then she saw the How to Remember book on the coffee table.
Frowning, she picked it up. She hadn’t moved it from her bedside table, so how did it get from there to the sitting room?
“Oh!” She smiled.
It wasn’t her How to Remember booklet but a brand-new one with stickers of horses, cows, and even goats and cats scattered among the words on the front: How to Be a Rancher.
She opened it up to find the steps outlined in Gabby’s handwriting.
Number 1: You got to love animals but you got to never let your kids bring goats into the house. Not even if they fight with you and use cuss words. Goats stink.
Number 2: You got to wear jeans and boots. Lily says that since you already do that you are doing good.
Number 3: You got to like living in the country. Ranchers don’t live in big towns with taxis and hotels like those places on television.
Number 4: You got to know that dirt sticks to boots and sometimes it comes in the house.
Lily says there’s other rules but we are tired and that’s all for tonight. We love you, Mama-Nanny.
She held the booklet to her heart. It started as a soft giggle but pretty soon it turned to sobs as the dam let go and she truly mourned her past. Now if only she could find closure and let it go.
Chapter 7
Annie Rose couldn’t believe that it had been six days since she’d been awakened by little girls squealing on the front porch, or that tonight those same little girls were playing and singing for their daddy in the living room. The girls were giddy with the preparations and had changed clothes a dozen times, traipsing up and down the stairs for her opinion on what they should wear for their first concert.
She had planned on a one-song show after only a week of fiddle playing and singing. But that had stretched to two numbers, and now it was up to three songs, one with fiddle accompaniment, and two with the karaoke machine providing background music.
Supper involved more wiggling, whispering, and squirming than it did eating. The show was to start at seven o’clock, and it was already after six, so the excitement was mounting fast.
“Do I need to get out my tux or will my Sunday suit do for this show?” Mason teased.
“Oh, Daddy, it’s a country music concert. You can wear your jeans and shirt, and Mama-Nanny can wear jeans too. But y’all have to clap even if we miss a note, and at the end of the summer we might even get matching T-shirts for us all, like at
the Miranda concerts,” Gabby said.
“I’m very good at applause. I took that class in college,” Annie Rose teased.
Mason caught her eye above the girls’ heads and smiled. “Did you pass it?”
“Made a hundred on every test,” she said. “Did you take it too?”
“No, I’m self-taught. Trained in how to clap my hands by two little girls when I taught them to play patty-cake,” he answered.
“Daddy!” Lily exclaimed. “Don’t laugh at us. We’re going to knock your socks off.”
“I’m sure you are, but right now could we finish supper? I’m really hungry, and you don’t want my growling stomach to be louder than your music. Have you forgotten that tomorrow is the Angus Association picnic and the next Saturday is the trip to The Pink Pistol? And speaking of rodeos, the Saturday after that, let’s take the girls to the Resistol Rodeo down in Mesquite.” Mason made plans as he ate the rest of his supper.
Lily threw a hand over her forehead. “One thing at a time, Daddy. We have to concentrate on our concert right now, then all three of us girls will plan out what we’ll wear to the picnic.”
“Picnic? Tomorrow?” Annie Rose asked. Surely the nanny didn’t attend every one of those affairs, and if she did, what was she going to wear?
“It’s the one family affair that we have each year. We alternate ranches where we have it. This year it’s Lucas Allen’s turn. His ranch is up near Savoy, not far from here. He supplies the brisket. We all bring a covered dish. There’s a cheesecake from Cheesecake Factory in the freezer. That’s what I always take,” Mason said.
“We’re done. May we be excused, Mama-Nanny?” Gabby asked.
“Of course, and we’ll use the dishwasher because you two are concert stars not ranchin’ women tonight.” Annie Rose’s head was in a spin. A picnic and she only had two outfits and a dirty wedding gown. If only the dates had been reversed, she might have found something decent at The Pink Pistol store.
“We’ll be ready in fifteen minutes, Daddy. You best get in line at the door, or you’ll miss the first number.” Lily tossed back her hair on the way out of the kitchen.
How to Marry a Cowboy (Cowboys & Brides) Page 8
