The Cowboy's Return

by Susan Crosby

  “Apology accepted,” he said, but with a twinkle in his eye that she couldn’t interpret.

  The chances of Austin being away from the house before Mitch left were slim, so why was he making light of what had happened? Because he wasn’t going far and they would still have a chance to really be together? She hadn’t been able to get a handle on whether he planned to stay in the area after seeing his family or move on again.

  Maybe one of the things she liked about him was the mystery, the unknown, which kept her charged up some, anticipating. Wondering. Everything in her life had been so mundane, the same thing, day in and day out, with little variation.

  That wasn’t true now. Now she woke up revved and ready to go. She had help with the work, which lightened the load but gave her adult company, too, not just a boy, his dog and some chickens. She felt lighter, happier. Sexy, too. She hadn’t felt desirable for a very long time. And Mitch sure wasn’t faking his interest.

  She came out of her stupor when Mitch waved a hand in front of her face. She almost batted it away for interrupting her thoughts.

  “Maybe we should build the sign for the front of the property,” he said. “That might draw Austin out to help, and he’ll forget why he’s angry. Let’s do the hammering by the porch.”

  She liked the way he thought. They gathered wood, tools and paint. They’d hardly started when Austin joined them, wanting to help. Mitch let him saw the wood until he decided it was too hard. But he hammered nails and applied a primer then a final coat of bright white.

  They put their heads together and drew up several signs on paper until they decided they’d hit on the right lettering style. The Barn Yard, it would say in big, bold, black letters, all caps, then framed with blue lines. They decided to paint the mailbox while they were at it. It was amazing how it freshened up the front of the property.

  “We need to make U-pick signs, too, Mom. We should do them now.”

  “U-pick?” Mitch asked.

  “We’re opening up the farm for people to pick their own berries starting not this weekend but the next, and run it for about a month, or until the crops run out.” She’d been told by the head of the farmer’s market that having a U-pick would endear her to the community, something Annie wanted more than anything. “We’ll have blueberries and strawberries at first. The blackberries need more time.”

  “I’m in charge of ’em,” Austin said, his chest puffed out a little. “And I get some of the profits.”

  So, more wood was cut, painted and stowed in the barn. It was past their regular dinnertime when they finally stopped.

  Mitch returned to the high tunnel to put in a little more work time. Annie headed for the kitchen. She found Austin and Bo curled up together on the couch watching a Disney show on television. She sat down next to him.

  “That was very smart of you to figure out what you did about Mitch.”

  He didn’t respond, didn’t even look at her.

  “I’m sorry you’re upset, honey. I wish I could make things different.”

  “I know how you could,” he said, finally making eye contact.

  “How?”

  “Get Mitch to marry you. He’d make things better around here. We’d have more money to spend.”

  Annie hid her surprise, although she realized she probably shouldn’t be surprised. “There’s no guarantee of that, Austin. And getting married requires falling in love. I’ve known him for two days. No one falls in love that fast.”

  “I did,” he said low and gruff.

  “What?”

  “I love him. He’s good to me, like a real dad.”

  Annie kept her cool, even though one of her biggest fears seemed to be coming true—Austin was becoming too attached. “Well, that’s an entirely different kind of love than the kind that makes people want to get married. As for your father, he’s doing the best he can.” Which was a shame. He missed so much in his son’s life.

  “I can tell Mitch likes you. Just do that stuff that girls do. Flirt with him. Laugh at his jokes. You know what to do. You’re a girl.”

  You mean I should get in bed with him? I tried and failed at that. “I think we just need to be happy we met Mitch and be grateful for his help. None of us knows what will happen in the future.”

  Annie held out her hand, her pinky finger crooked until Austin finally, reluctantly, hooked his with hers. “A day at a time,” they said in unison.

  Annie kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair. “Go wash up. You can help me make the salad.”

  “What else are we having?”

  “Mac and cheese.” She’d made the casserole early that morning and only had to heat it. She walked toward the kitchen.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ll try, though, won’t you? To make Mitch fall in love with you? You won’t get all cold and mean-looking like you do with other men and chase him off?”

  Cold and mean? “I will be warm and friendly,” she said, not promising more, but understanding what he meant. She did get cool around men, especially those Morgan and Ryder men who wanted her property. They could use all the charm available to them, and it wouldn’t make a difference. If she ended up having to sell, she’d do her best to find a different buyer. Both of those families were vultures.

  At the dinner table, everything seemed back to normal. Austin talked a blue streak about his afternoon at the bowling alley and arcade, Mitch asked questions Annie wouldn’t know to ask about the games, and Annie simply enjoyed herself. Aware of Austin’s desire that she flirt with Mitch, she had a hard time even looking at him.

  Her body felt different now that she’d acknowledged her primal needs. Mitch only had to be within a foot of her and she tingled. She’d also begun to rely on him. He’d made her life a whole lot easier in just two days—and maybe a little more difficult, too.

  The phone rang just as they finished dinner and were taking dishes to the sink.

  “Good evening, Ms. Barnard. This is Jim Ryder.”

  Annie’s spine stiffened. The cold meanness that Austin had noted crept in. Even aware of it, she didn’t put any warmth in her voice. “Mr. Ryder.”

  Dishes rattled behind her. She turned around and saw Mitch straightening up the stack of plates he’d just fumbled.

  “I have a proposition for you,” Jim said. “May I stop by and tell you about it?”

  “I’m not selling, Mr. Ryder.”

  “Please. Just hear me out. What harm will it do?”

  She realized she shouldn’t completely shut him down. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a slim chance she might need him one day. Plus, she wanted to fit into the community. He was part of that. “Fine.”

  A brief pause ensued, as if he were shocked, then he said, “How about tomorrow morning around ten?”

  “All right.”

  “I’ll see you then. Have a good evening.”

  She hung up, then didn’t let go of the receiver. “Bad news?” Mitch asked, coming up beside her.

  “Jim. His first name is Jim.”

  Mitch frowned.

  “I told you I couldn’t remember the first name of that rancher, Ryder. That was him. He has a proposition for me. He’ll be here at ten tomorrow.”

  “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with him or the Morgan family.”

  “‘Penny-wise, pound-foolish.’”

  “Meaning?”

  “Who knows? Jim Ryder could be the man to bail me out one day. I can’t ignore that possibility.”

  “That’s probably wise.”

  “What will you do while he’s here?”

  “I think it’d be a good time for Austin and me to take a trip to the dump and get rid of some trash that’s accumulated around here before you open up to the public for the
U-pick.”

  “So, Mr. Ryder would recognize you?”

  He waited a beat. “Yes.”

  She contemplated that then nodded.

  “Is it okay for me to use your computer to order parts for my truck?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.” She’d password-protected what she needed kept private, like her finances, so that Austin wouldn’t see anything she didn’t want him to see. “You don’t even have to ask.”

  “Thanks.”

  Annie sat on the porch glider reading after dinner while Austin and Mitch played catch, Bo running back and forth between them. Too normal, Annie thought. Temptingly so.

  Even that thought, and the fact Austin was happier than usual, gave Annie pause. What was Mitch’s background and why was he hiding it? Say what he would about not being in trouble, his actions didn’t match his words. People hide for a reason.

  And here she was, chasing him when she’d convinced herself she didn’t want a relationship with any man, at least not until Austin was grown. He was her priority.

  However...she was a woman, too. She had needs she’d forgotten about, or at least shoved into a locked compartment in her mind. All that hammering in her head now was coming from those particular needs knocking for her to open that door.

  “Mom! Come play with us,” Austin called out.

  “I throw like a girl.”

  Both males grinned at her.

  “Mitch can teach you. Then you can play with me after he’s gone.”

  Silence came over the yard. Even the chickens stopped clucking. Annie closed her book and set it aside. “I don’t have a glove.”

  “Neither does Mitch. I don’t throw that hard. Yet.”

  Mitch explained what her wrist and elbow should be doing, how her fingers should be set across the seams of the ball, how her arm should cross over her body after the throw in the follow-through. No wonder she threw like a girl. No one had taught her the right way.

  Mitch stepped back as she practiced with Austin. Despite Austin’s words to the contrary, he threw plenty hard, especially to someone without a glove or experience or larger, tougher hands. She yelped and dropped the first ball he threw back to her.

  “Throw the ball to me,” Mitch said to the boy. “I’ll pass it to your mom, and she can throw again.”

  He was a great kid, and perceptive, too, Mitch thought. The way Austin had protected him was remarkable for someone so young. They would have time tomorrow to talk while they made the trip to the dump. Mitch wasn’t sure what he would say, but they needed an open dialogue.

  Mitch understood what it meant to idolize someone. His grandfather had been his touchstone. And even as ornery as Granddad could be at times, Mitch always knew he was loved and accepted. He wanted Austin to have the same experience—but it couldn’t be with him. That would come from whomever Annie married, because surely she would someday.

  Mitch had been manipulated and lied to, and he’d learned from his mistakes. Until after the wedding, Marissa had never told him she didn’t want children, nor had she even hinted that she didn’t want to live on the ranch but in a city, with conveniences, especially shopping.

  But she was more than happy to take half of everything he had, including the house he’d built. He’d only finished paying her share for that a few years ago. That is, repaying his father for the loan to pay her off.

  It was easy to forget all that when he watched Annie play ball with her son. They laughed and teased each other. She was a good sport. Austin had a ways to go with that.

  “Uncle!” Annie yelled after a while. “Bench me, please. Where’s the trainer? I need an ice pack for my shoulder.”

  “Geez, Mom, you only threw the ball, like, twenty times. You pick up fifty-pound bags of fertilizer, no sweat.”

  “I maneuver fifty-pound bags, not pick them up.” She hooked an arm around his neck as they all headed for the porch. “How about pouring us all some lemonade?”

  “Okay.”

  Annie plopped onto the glider. Mitch leaned against the porch railing, crossing his arms and taking a good look at her. “You’re not really in pain, are you?”

  “Not now, but I’ll bet I will be tomorrow.”

  “Has Austin played organized sports?”

  She shook her head. “It takes too much time and gas to get him to practices and games. He plays at school with friends, but that’s all.”

  “You don’t mind the isolation out here? Your nearest neighbor...?”

  “Is on the other side of the road about a mile down. No, I don’t mind it. Well, sometimes I do. Sometimes I get lonely.” She shrugged. “Mostly I love it too much to let anything bother me for long. I’m just happy to be planted in one place.”

  “Is Austin?”

  “Not as much as I am. He doesn’t complain much, but it’ll probably be different when he’s a teenager. I hope by then my farm will be well established, and he can drive where he needs to go.”

  “What do you think Ryder will offer you tomorrow?”

  “Money for something. It’s the something I can’t guess.”

  “And there’s nothing at all he can offer to entice you?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  Mitch could only guess at the possibilities, too. At the least his father could offer it to Shep Morgan at a profit. Their unspoken competition for land dominance came at a cost for both of them, but didn’t stop them striving for it.

  Austin brought two glasses of lemonade then went back for his, sitting next to his mother.

  “Did you play baseball when you were growing up?” he asked Mitch.

  “Football. But I’ve got three brothers, and we played baseball together a bit.”

  “What position did you play on the football team?”

  “Quarterback.” It seemed like decades ago.

  “Did you break any records?”

  “A couple. They didn’t hold for more than a few years before someone else broke ’em.” The homemade lemonade was a perfect balance of sweet and tart. Mitch’s mom made a mean lemonade, too. Suddenly he missed her. She was a strong woman, but took a backseat to her husband—unless she was exerting influence behind the scenes. “What sports do you like, Austin?”

  “I like baseball the best. We play soccer at school. I’m pretty good at that. I’d try football, but Mom’s afraid I’ll get hurt.”

  “It’s a rough game,” Mitch said, although he didn’t think that was a good reason not to play.

  “Austin,” Annie said.

  “I know. I know. It’s time for shower and bed.”

  She smiled. “You and Mitch are going to take a load to the dump tomorrow morning.”

  “All right!” His eyes lit up. He hopped out of the glider and hurried into the house.

  “How can anyone like going to the dump?” she asked, shaking her head.

  Mitch sat next to her. He could see the surprise in her eyes at his move. “Every mother I’ve met hates to have their son in football, or wrestling, for that matter. I understand from a parent’s point of view. But I also would like you to know the positive side, at least for me, of football. I learned a lot by playing the game—how to lead, how to be part of a team, sportsmanship, logic skills. Not to mention how it helped with raging hormones. The aggression kept a handle on them. Most people don’t think about that.”

  “And you were popular because of it, especially being quarterback.”

  “No doubt about it. I liked having that status, the respect that came with it.”

  “Did it get you girls?”

  He looked away, remembering. “It got me Marissa, who was a cheerleader.”

  “Do you regret that?”

  He gave it some consideration, but in the end there was only one answer. “Yes. It’s col
ored my world ever since.”

  “Same here, except that I got Austin out of the deal, so no regrets for me.” She touched his arm. “Thanks for the perspective on football. I know I’m overly protective. But I’ve got time to think about it, don’t I?”

  “Not really. Kids have to start young and develop their skills. They can’t wait for high school to start playing. By then too many others have been coached for years. He’s at exactly the right age now.”

  She sighed. “Maybe I could get a car pool together when the time comes.”

  “My guess is sign-ups are already going on. They generally start practicing before school starts.”

  “It probably costs a small fortune.”

  “The money situation can always be managed.” He could work out a way for her. A boy needed to—

  Mitch stopped the thought in its tracks. He had no business—and no right—getting involved. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Maybe he’d made it worse.

  Austin hopped out onto the porch then stopped cold, seeing Mitch seated next to his mother. Then he grinned. He leaned over and gave his mom a hug, then did the same to Mitch.

  “Good night!” he called then raced into the house.

  Mitch stood. It was obvious that Austin wanted him to stay on, and maybe he even saw his mother and Mitch getting together as a way of that happening. Mitch wouldn’t put it past Austin to be sneaking peeks at them on the porch to see what was going on between them.

  “I’m going to work on my truck a bit before bed,” he said. “Good night, Annie.”

  He should apologize for the abruptness of his leaving, but he didn’t. He needed to keep some distance between them, although how that would be possible when his head was filled with the memory of her, the scent of her perfume, her willingness...

  He needed all those skills he’d learned in football to stay strong, to keep his self-control.

  Hell, maybe what he needed was a good game of scrimmage with his brothers to knock his hormones back into place.

  He laughed as he reached the shed, running his hand over the familiar curve of Lulu’s fender.