Cowboy Dad

by Cathy McDavid

  “I deserved that, which is why I won’t let your anger ruin our friendship.” The twinkle in Millie’s eyes reappeared.

  Aaron found it hard to stay mad. “You think we’re going to be friends?”

  “Good ones.” She glanced at Jake before patting Aaron’s arm. “Would you like to see more pictures of Hailey growing up? There are lots of them. We have albums for every year the resort’s been in operation. Ma insisted on it.”

  “Sure.” He grinned. Whatever reason Millie had for being nice to him—and she had one, she was too wily not to—Aaron didn’t care as long as it irritated Jake.

  She flipped to a new page in the album and said, “There’s all the cousins.” The six Tucker grandchildren sat grouped together on the floor in front of a huge, elaborately decorated Christmas tree. “Jake’s not only the oldest grandchild, he’s the only boy.” Millie chuckled. “And then the poor man goes and has three daughters. It’s not entirely his fault he turned out to be such a stick-in-the-mud. Natalie’s no relation but they’ve known each other their whole lives, and he’s as overprotective with her as the rest of the women in his life.”

  Aaron changed the subject. For some reason he wasn’t inclined to talk about Natalie with any of the Tuckers, even the one being nice to him.

  “You have four daughters?” He studied Hailey’s young face. She’d had the same exuberance about her as a child as she’d had as an adult.

  “Oh, yes. Carolina and Rachel over there are my two middle ones. Don’t be put off. They’re not nearly as mean as they appear,” Millie teased. “My oldest is married and lives in Colorado.”

  “You must miss her.” Aaron’s own mother complained frequently of his long absences.

  “Yes, but the benefit of the family trust is that she’s required to spend eight weeks a year here. She splits her weeks up, taking them two at a time. This last time she brought my brand-new granddaughter with her.”

  “Another girl?” He turned pages as Millie talked.

  “It’s a family curse.”

  Aaron’s mind went to Hailey. What might the sex of their children have been had she lived?

  “My youngest is in the service.” Millie glowed with pride. “She’s a warrant officer for the army. I have a shop in Payson with Natalie’s mother, and I’m also the wedding coordinator for the ranch.”

  “Is your brother still at the college?”

  Because he and Hailey had eloped, Aaron didn’t meet his father-in-law until later, though she’d talked a lot about him. When Jake took over the ranch eight years ago, their father followed his lifelong dream of teaching and became an instructor at nearby Gila Community College.

  “Are you kidding?” Millie said. “He loves it. Swore running a resort wasn’t his thing. Well, guess what he teaches?”

  “Business?”

  She harrumphed. “Hospitality and tourism management.”

  Aaron wasn’t sorry his former father-in-law had to miss the meeting. Not that he’d expected the red-carpet treatment from him, either. Only after he and Hailey were married did he understand his wife’s reluctance to invite her family to the ceremony. The Tuckers weren’t thrilled with her chosen groom, especially her father and brother, and let her know it.

  Aaron closed the photo album and returned it to its slot. He was enjoying talking to Millie but growing impatient with Jake’s stall tactics. “Why exactly are we here?”

  “A family meeting. Jake’s authority to act on behalf of the trust has limitations. Whatever he has on the agenda must require a majority vote. If not, we wouldn’t have been summoned. Didn’t our attorney explain everything to you?”

  “I wasn’t paying much attention.” Aaron had existed in a fog for months after Hailey’s death.

  “Well, if you have any questions, call him. I can give you his number.”

  “Jake doesn’t need me for a majority vote. He’s gotten along so far without me.”

  “Ah, but he does. The trust stipulates that any members residing on the ranch are required to attend meetings. If he weren’t bound by the trust, you’d still be riding the trails with Gary.”

  “Is everyone ready?” Jake snapped shut his cell phone and dropped it into his shirt pocket.

  “Waiting on you,” Millie chirped.

  She and Aaron wandered to the table and chose seats. Aaron selected his because it was next to Millie and directly across from Jake. They immediately locked gazes.

  Aaron wasn’t the type to fold under pressure. It was a quality he’d honed, one that had enabled him to rise from a nobody at age nineteen to a national champion at age twenty-four.

  Jake broke eye contact in order to distribute papers to everyone present. He explained to the group how the company they leased their fleet of ATVs from had waited until the last minute to announce a rate hike, one that far exceeded the ranch’s budget.

  Options were discussed, everything from locating another leasing company to paying the higher rate. Aaron listened far more than he contributed. There wasn’t much he could add. And though he hated to admit it, Jake clearly was no dummy when it came to running the ranch. After a final round of discussion, a vote was taken.

  The meeting was at an end when Aaron finally spoke up. “I have something I want to talk about.”

  “You do?” One corner of Jake’s mouth curved up, either in amusement or disdain. It was hard to tell. His smile didn’t differ much from his frown. “Does it involve spending money?”

  “Could.”

  Jake made a show of checking his watch. “Can it wait until our regular monthly meeting on the twentieth? Alice will put it on the agenda.”

  “This won’t take long.” Aaron’s insistence increased in proportion to Jake’s attempts to blow him off.

  “I have a three o’clock appointment in town,” Jake said with a finality that implied his patience was at an end.

  “Play nice, Jake,” Millie warned, all trace of her earlier congeniality gone. “Aaron has the right to initiate a discussion. Same as any of us.”

  Aaron understood then what she’d meant about shaking things up.

  If Jake was annoyed with his aunt, he covered it well. “Since when have the conditions of the trust interested you?”

  “Since yesterday.” She broke into the wide, sassy smile of a person truly enjoying herself. “You’re an excellent manager of the family business, Jake. Better even than your father. But let’s be honest. You can also be a pain in the rear.”

  One cousin looked away, the other one giggled.

  Jake’s scowl lasted a mere two seconds. “If I am a pain in the rear, I inherited it from you.”

  “One of my finer traits.” Millie laughed.

  Aaron had to hand it to them. The Tuckers may not be an easy family to belong to, but their bond was strong.

  Not unlike his own family.

  He made a silent vow to visit home more often. The majority of his siblings and their families still lived in and around the Phoenix area and those who didn’t would make the drive—hopefully. In escaping his grief over Hailey, he’s pushed away the people who loved him the most. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change…

  “Fine, Reyes. What is it you want to talk to us about?”

  Jake’s abrupt question roused Aaron. “Riding helmets.”

  “Really,” Jake said with practiced neutrality.

  “I found three children’s helmets in the tack room this morning. There were no adult helmets.”

  “Don’t recall we’ve ever had a need for them.”

  “I asked Gary Forrester, and he told me a couple guests have requested them.”

  “What exactly are you proposing?” Jake sat back in his chair, but there was nothing relaxed about him. Beneath the table, one knee bounced, and he held his pen in a death grip.

  “That we buy three more children’s helmets and six adult helmets. I also think we should posts signs in the main lodge and at the stables, informing guests that helmets are available should they want one.”


  “We?”

  Aaron paused. Was the slip unconscious or had he finally begun to accept his position in the family?

  “How much do helmets cost?” Carolina asked.

  “For good ones, a hundred to a hundred and fifty each.”

  “The yearly budget’s already been approved,” Jake said firmly. “We don’t have any extra funds.”

  “It’s a thousand dollars, Jake,” Millie answered with equal firmness. “I think we can find a place in the budget for that without throwing the entire ranch finances into turmoil. Alice, do you have the new budget on your laptop?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She grabbed the wireless mouse and began clicking.

  “You might save that much in liability insurance,” Aaron suggested. “Talk to your agent.”

  Jake leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “Are you an insurance expert now?”

  “No, but I’ve carried plenty of it over the years.”

  “On Hailey?”

  “On me,” Aaron answered steadily and fought to remain calm.

  Jake was baiting him, Aaron recognized the ploy. He’d had it used on him by his four brothers and two sisters—and used it on them in return—all the years they were growing up.

  “Hey,” Carolina interjected. “No reason to go all testosterone on us.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Rachel appealed to Jake. “Seriously.”

  “Guests may get the idea riding isn’t safe.”

  “Sometimes riding isn’t safe. We all know that.” Carolina glanced at Aaron.

  He wondered if he’d gained another ally or at least some ground.

  “Guests may also feel reassured by the availability of helmets,” she said with noticeably growing confidence. “That their safety is our top concern.”

  Jake’s jaw visibly clenched. “This isn’t anything we should jump into without careful consideration.”

  “I agree.” Millie smiled approvingly. “I make a motion that we table the discussion of purchasing helmets until the next regular meeting. In the meantime, Alice can contact our insurance agent, see if we qualify for a rate break. And Aaron can obtain prices so we know exactly what the cost will be.”

  She was no dummy when it came to running the ranch either.

  Aaron figured now was a good time to drop his final bombshell. “What if the helmets were free of charge?”

  That got everyone’s attention.

  “You have some?” Carolina asked.

  “No. But I know where we might be able to get them.”

  “Where?”

  Jake snorted.

  Carolina bristled. “Honestly, Jake. If we can get the helmets at no cost, what’s the harm in providing them?”

  “Nothing’s for free. There’s always a catch.”

  “No catch,” Aaron said. “I know of an organization that promotes equestrian safety. We can apply to them for a grant and if they approve our request, the helmets are ours. No charge.”

  “What organization is that?” Jake’s gaze narrowed with suspicion.

  Aaron met it head-on. “The Hailey Reyes Foundation for Equestrian Safety. I’m the chairman.”

  Four faces stared at him with expressions ranging from surprise to shock.

  The fifth, Millie’s, radiated pure delight.

  NATALIE PACED the lobby floor, beside herself with frustration. Her usually complacent, good-natured baby had been crying nonstop for the last hour and showed no signs of wearing herself out. Natalie, on the other hand, was exhausted.

  For the second time since she’d returned from the family meeting ten minutes ago, Alice opened her office door, stuck her head out and said, “Can’t you do something about her crying?” then shut the door with unnecessary force.

  “Don’t you think I would if I could?” Natalie muttered under her breath.

  She tried not to think harshly of Alice. Having a baby in the office was distracting to anyone, and it didn’t exactly give the professional impression Alice prided herself on. In Natalie’s opinion, Jake’s personal assistant took herself and her job too seriously. But in all fairness, she’d come into a situation where she was the newcomer and everyone else had been with the ranch for years and years. That could be intimidating and give a person reason to think they needed to prove themselves.

  All the more reason for Natalie to be more understanding of her coworker and find reliable day care. She circled the couch in front of the reception area, Shiloh resting on her shoulder, her cries escalating to an eardrum-piercing level. Thank goodness Jake had left for his appointment in town.

  Natalie’s frustration escalated. She didn’t know what else to check. Shiloh’s diaper wasn’t wet. She wasn’t hungry, or at least, she refused to nurse. She had no temperature, no runny nose, no spit-up and no other outward signs of being sick. Three months was too young to start teething, wasn’t it?

  Jake’s daughter, Briana, was due to arrive in fifteen minutes. Natalie couldn’t possibly hand over Shiloh to her babysitter until she’d quieted down.

  In desperation, Natalie pulled out her cell phone and called her mother at the store.

  “Good afternoon, Trinkets and Treasure.”

  “Mom! Help.”

  “Natalie, honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Shiloh won’t stop crying.”

  Deana laughed.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “You don’t know how lucky you are. Shiloh isn’t normal.”

  “Thanks,” Natalie said sarcastically.

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it. She’s usually so easy. You haven’t had to endure the difficulties most mothers do.”

  “Well, it’s looking like my abnormal baby is now normal.” Natalie continued circling the couch. “Got any suggestions?”

  “Your grandmother used to feed us kids a teaspoon of whiskey.”

  “I’m not giving Shiloh alcohol!” Natalie said, appalled.

  “If Mom didn’t have whiskey, she’d use chamomile tea.”

  “You’re no help.”

  “I’m teasing.” Deana laughed again. “Have you tried putting her in her car seat and driving her around the ranch?”

  “I can’t leave. I’m on duty.”

  “Rocking her?”

  “Yes.” Twice Natalie had sat with Shiloh in the wicker rocker on the front porch.

  “Putting her down and letting her cry herself to sleep?”

  “Alice complained.”

  “Walking her in her stroller? Oh, wait, you’re on duty.”

  “And besides, my stroller isn’t here.”

  Natalie was verging on frantic. Jake was due back at four-thirty. He might stop being so generous with her if he had to listen to a squalling baby. She reminded herself to breathe deeply. Shiloh probably sensed her frustration and was responding to it.

  “What about moving her portable crib to a different location? Maybe a change of scenery will help.”

  “Hmm. That’s a good idea. Thanks, Mom.”

  Natalie returned to the storage room after hanging up with her mother. Repositioning Shiloh in her left arm, she grabbed the edge of the lightweight crib and dragged it through the door to the front porch. The scraping sound quieted Shiloh, but only for a minute. As soon as Natalie had the crib in position, Shiloh started up again.

  Checking her diaper one last time, Natalie laid the baby down in the crib and pulled the wicker rocker over to sit in. She then wound up a musical teddy bear and put it in the crib next to Shiloh, talking soothingly all the while.

  Five minutes later, Shiloh was still crying, and Natalie had begun to worry that something was seriously wrong. The baby’s face was beet red and her cries had become thready and hoarse.

  Maybe she should call her pediatrician. Jumping up, she dashed inside to fetch the number from her Rolodex. She wasn’t gone three minutes. But by the time she returned, two things had happened: Shiloh wasn’t alone on the porch, and she’d stopped crying.

  Aaron was wi
th her.

  He sat in the rocking chair, his large hand inside the crib, tenderly stroking Shiloh’s tiny forehead and singing to her in Spanish. Shiloh didn’t seem to care that his voice was gravelly and a bit off-key. She stared at him, transfixed—and utterly silent.

  She wasn’t the only one.

  Natalie froze, watching, not sure what to make of the situation. At first, her maternal instincts kicked in, and she had to squash the impulse to rush over and snatch her baby away from this almost stranger’s clutches. The singing stopped her. Then touched her.

  Shiloh interacted so seldom with men. None, really, other than Natalie’s father. As much as Shiloh’s grandfather adored her, he wasn’t very comfortable around little babies and broke into a cold sweat every time he so much as held her.

  Not so, Aaron. He soothed Shiloh’s crying jag as if he’d been around babies his entire life. Maybe he had. Despite being the object of much gossip, no one knew a whole lot about him, including the Tuckers.

  Natalie was almost reluctant to approach Aaron. Shiloh might start crying again if he stopped singing. She stood directly behind him, thinking he hadn’t noticed her. But then he spoke, his voice almost as soft as his singing.

  “She’s asleep.”

  “Really?” Natalie whispered and stepped closer, afraid to hope. “She’s been crying for over an hour. I was getting ready to call the doctor.”

  Peering around Aaron, she saw that her daughter was indeed asleep, and her shoulders sagged with relief. Alice would be thrilled. And Natalie could finally get some work done. She glanced down the road and spotted Briana approaching in the distance. Perfect timing.

  “Thank you,” Natalie said.

  Aaron stood and slowly backed up, not taking his eyes off Shiloh. “I hope you don’t mind. I know mothers don’t like just anyone coming around their babies.”

  “It’s all right.” And it was all right. Natalie couldn’t explain the sense of security she felt with Aaron. The same instinct that compelled her to protect her baby also told her this man intended no harm.

  “My mother used to sing that song to us,” he said.