“Shouldn’t be a problem if he gets to visit Pearl every now and then,” Scarlett said.
Tandy shook out the sheet, smoothing the fabric before stretching the elastic over the mattress corner. Banshee would like that. So would she. But if Pearl was staying, so was Click. “How long are you staying?” she asked, unable to stop the words from slipping out.
Click sighed. “As long as we can.”
She risked a look his way. He was watching his daughter, a mix of pleasure and unease lining his forehead. She didn’t know anything about his circumstances. Was he married? Where was Pearl’s mother? The woman he’d slept with days after leaving her in the hospital. That jagged lump was back, lodged firmly in her throat.
“Between jobs?” Renata asked.
“You could say that.” He shook his head.
“Ra, ra, ra,” Pearl announced, toddling toward her father, dragging a plastic spatula behind her. “Ra?” she asked, holding up the cooking utensil.
Click ruffled Pearl’s hair. “She’s a little young to learn spatula, isn’t she?”
Tandy laughed, she couldn’t help it. And when she laughed, the others did, too. It was like they were waiting for her reaction and following her lead. Which was wrong. What he’d done was to her, not them. Click was their friend, a friend who needed help.
“How about spoon?” Tandy offered.
Click arched a dark brow. “That’s some spoon.”
She shook her head, her mood slipping when their eyes locked. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t look at her like that—like it was okay to smile at her. She swallowed hard and turned toward the toddler still waiting for her new word. “Spoon, Pearl. It’s a spoon.” She spoke clearly, grinning at the way Pearl watched her lips.
Pearl grinned, dropped the spatula, clapped her hands and waited.
All four adults clapped their hands in answer.
Pearl giggled, running into Click’s open arms. He tossed her in the air, eliciting further peals of laughter. Banshee perked up, placing a paw on Click’s arm.
“No?” Click asked the dog, setting Pearl on her feet.
Pearl squealed and ran across the room to Tandy, her little arms twining around her leg. Tandy was helpless to resist. She scooped Pearl up and tickled her, savoring her solid weight and sweet, clean smell. When Pearl yawned and burrowed close, Tandy cradled her close. “Who’s a cuddle bunny?” she whispered.
“With you,” Click said.
Tandy ignored him. She didn’t want to be special to this baby. It would hurt too much when they left. She stared down at the toddler, noting Pearl’s dimple, the bow shape of her little lips and the slight tilt of her nose. She was all peaches and cream, her eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes like her daddy. But instead of Click’s blue-green gaze, Pearl’s were a light brown.
When Click came to her side, she didn’t know. But now that he was, Tandy was hard-pressed not to react. Angry or not, he still had a powerful effect on her. Until she learned how to change that, she’d do her best not to be too obvious about it.
“You want Daddy?” she asked, forcing the word out. “Daddy?”
Pearl stared at her.
Tandy glanced at him, pointing. “Daddy. This is your daddy, Pearl.”
Click cleared his throat. “She doesn’t know me. Not really. Not yet.”
She stared up at him—she couldn’t help it. “She doesn’t?”
He glanced at her, then away.
“Daddy,” she repeated to Pearl, reeling from Click’s revelation.
Pearl looked at Click, then Tandy, then Click again.
“Da,” she announced, loudly, her little legs kicking. “Da.”
Tandy laughed, the little girl’s pride irresistible.
“That’s right, Pearl,” Scarlett said. “Daddy.”
“Da!” Pearl said again, smiling at Click.
Tandy turned, offering Pearl to Click. Click hugged his daughter close, “I’m your Da,” he said, then set her on the floor. She toddled away, picking up her spatula and following Banshee to his spot under the window. She sat, then lay down, beside the dog. It was precious. She was precious. Tandy glanced at Click again.
The happiness on his face was right, and he should be happy—so why did it hurt so much? This wasn’t about her. Whatever wounds they’d given each other in the past, Pearl wasn’t a part of that.
And yet... Tandy couldn’t forget. Fourteen months. It hurt.
“If they’re not going to ask, I will,” Renata said, sitting in the large recliner. “Why did you say she doesn’t know you? You’re her daddy, Click. All a person has to do is look at her to know that.”
Leave it to Renata to speak her mind. Her cousin was right. Pearl was the image of her father. Same thick black hair. Same smile and dimple. Beautiful. Tandy focused on Pearl. It was easier—and safer.
“Renata.” Scarlett was horrified. “That’s downright nosy.”
“Oh, come on.” Renata rested her head on the chair back. “He mentioned it. Click knows I didn’t mean anything by it. Right, Click?”
Click chuckled. “Right.”
Tandy smoothed her quilt up, patting the pillows into shape with a little extra force. “He has the right to some privacy. We all do.”
Renata snorted. “Well, that’s silly. When did we start keeping secrets? Ya’ll know everything there is to know about me.”
Scarlett stopped putting the dishes into the kitchen cabinet. “Same here. I know, it’s sad.”
Tandy hugged her. “It’s not sad, Scarlett. You’ve got a good life.”
“Doesn’t feel like I’ve done much living,” she murmured.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tandy asked. She’d always envied the stability of her cousin’s life. Scarlett’s folks might be a pain in the rear, might be a little too invasive and outspoken, but they loved their children. Same with Renata. As far as Tandy was concerned, Uncle Teddy was the best father in the world. He loved and supported his children in a way Tandy could only dream about.
She and her brother, Toben, had grown up without a father, a fact their mother reminded them of every day. Susan Boone blamed them for his leaving, reminding them how lucky they were that she’d kept them. They’d grown up thinking she’d done them a favor raising them, even though she resented them every minute of every day. Tandy had done everything she could to show her mother they were thankful, to make her mother proud of her—but it was never enough.
“You’ve got a family that loves you,” Tandy reminded Scarlett. “That’s a lot in my book.”
“I’d say you’ve done a lot of living,” Click added. “Handling your uncle Woodrow and aunt Evelyn on a daily basis is no small accomplishment, Scarlett. Most would tuck tail and run.” Click shook his head.
Scarlett laughed.
“Speaking of which.” Renata yawned. “Aren’t we supposed to go to dinner? Something about bonfires and singing and steak.”
Tandy glanced at her watch. It was five thirty.
“Why don’t you and Pearl join us?” Scarlett asked.
Tandy bit back a sigh. Of course Scarlett should invite them, it was the right thing to do. But, dammit, she wasn’t ready to have him back in her life yet.
“Da-gee,” Pearl whispered at Banshee.
Tandy smiled as Pearl reached out her small hand to pat Banshee’s paw. Pearl would be oohed and aahed over, passed from lap to lap and adored by Uncle Woodrow’s guests. She’d take care to keep as much distance between her and Click as possible, to keep the gossips from getting too excited.
“Your daddy’s never thought too highly of me. Best not get him riled up in front of his guests.” Click shook his head, scooping Pearl off the floor. “We should get. I’m expecting company shortly.” He paused, looking at Tandy. “Hope we didn’t overstay our welcome.”
Tand
y shook her head, trying not to get lost in his gaze.
“Da-gee?” Pearl asked, yawning.
“Night-night,” Click said. “Doggie’s going night-night.”
Pearl’s lower lip flipped. “Ni-ni?”
“Night-night.” Click nodded.
Banshee looked up from where he lay on the floor. He did look ready for bed.
“Maybe he’ll come visit us tomorrow,” Click said, glancing her way. “He’s welcome anytime. You are, too. All of you, course.”
“If you change your mind, Click, bring Pearl,” Scarlett said. “Daddy’s mellowed.” She ignored Renata’s laugh. “Besides, if there’s one thing that turns my father into putty—it’s a baby girl.”
Click nodded. “I’ll think about it.” Pearl was playing with the buttons on his shirtfront as they headed out the door.
Banshee sat up, watching as Click carried Pearl back down the fence line to the gate he’d mentioned earlier. She rubbed Banshee behind the ear. “He’ll get the hang of it,” she said to her dog. “Until then, you might have to help him.”
Banshee looked up at her, his tail wagging in agreement.
She shook her head and headed back inside.
“I’m worried about him,” Scarlett said. “He’s always been the serious sort but—”
“He’s so sad.” Renata sighed. “And you’re sad.” She stood, hugging Tandy close. “I can’t stand it.”
Scarlett joined in the hug. “Me neither.”
Tandy hugged them back. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell us how to fix it.” Renata’s gaze searched hers.
“Renata’s right, Tandy. You and Click have been dealt a raw deal your whole life. It’s time to find the good—ya’ll deserve it.” Scarlett let go, stepping back. “I know you’re not one for believing in signs, but maybe you and Click being here at the same time will give you—”
“A second chance,” Renata filled in.
“No.” Scarlett shook her head. “I was going to say a chance to make amends for whatever happened.” She paused. “If you change your mind, decide you want to talk about it, we’re here.”
Renata nodded.
Talking about it wouldn’t do any good, of that Tandy was certain. She’d never confided in her cousins. Besides the time and distance between them, she and Click had cooked up some silly idea about getting her cousins and Lynnie together after the baby was born—a reunion and celebration. A way to introduce their new family to those who mattered most to them. Instead, she’d been too devastated to reach out, to share or talk about it with anyone. And her mother, so ashamed and disapproving of Click, said they’d never talk about it. It was over and done and nothing good ever came from talking.
There was no point in talking about it now.
But maybe Scarlett was right. She and Click had shared something no two people should have to go through. She blew out a slow breath. But assuming Click’s sadness was about them seemed self-centered. “He’s got a lot on his plate,” she said. “Something tells me this is about his here and now, not what happened in the past.” Pearl was pretty concrete evidence that he’d moved on.
“His here and now does seem all over the place,” Renata agreed, sliding back into the recliner. “Why is my head still hurting?”
“Tequila,” Tandy reminded her. “Let me find my pain reliever. You’re going to need it for tonight.” Uncle Woodrow was notoriously loud, even louder in a crowd.
“Yes, please,” Renata agreed.
“I hope Click will join us tonight,” Scarlett said, sweeping the wood-planked floor. “After his company leaves.”
“Could be Pearl’s mother,” Renata suggested. “Is he married?”
“I don’t know,” Scarlett said, glancing her way.
Tandy shrugged. She had no idea. After her mother had chased him out of her hospital room, she’d blocked every thought and memory of Click Hale from her mind. She’d had to. What he’d done to survive the days, weeks and months since then was his business. Considering he’d fathered a child, he could be married. But he’d said Pearl didn’t know him... Not the words of a man with a stable family life.
Tandy’s gaze traveled out the window to Lynnie’s house. Who was Click expecting? And, if it was a woman, would she have light brown eyes—like Pearl?
* * *
CLICK STARED AT the sheet of paper. One page, no addendums or stipulations. No notes or cover letter. Lynnie’s will was as straightforward as she’d always been. And, in this moment, he’d never loved her more. She’d given him what he’d never dared to hope for: a home.
“Sign there.” Kevin Glenn, Lynnie’s lawyer, pointed at the tabbed line on the bottom of the paper. “She put in those oil well pumps a few years back, out of necessity. She didn’t like them, but she couldn’t bear to lose her land. And, since she couldn’t see them, it was hard to argue with the checks rolling in each month.”
Checks rolling in each month.
That was his, too. His and Pearl’s. Fifteen hundred acres of property. A freshwater spring. A herd of Spanish goats, one donkey, two horses, a solid barn and a relatively new tractor. And six oil wells, bringing in more than he’d ever make working his ass off.
“You look a little green, Click.” Kevin Glenn clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m taking it you’re surprised?”
He nodded at the well-wrinkled man in the battered cowboy hat. “Yes, sir.”
“You should know how proud of you she was.” Mr. Glenn tipped his hat back on his head. “I know it tore her up to have no kids of her own. But that’s how she thought of you. Her nephew, your pa, was a sad disappointment. You’ll forgive me for saying so.” He hesitated.
He nodded again. To call his father a sad disappointment was generous. What his father had done to him—to his mother—was unforgivable. But he didn’t like to talk ill of the dead. Hell, he didn’t like to think about his father. The man had taken too much from him when he was living. Now that he was gone, Click figured he had more important things to think about.
“After your folks died, she wrote this up and never wanted to change it.” Kevin Glenn tapped the will with one gnarled finger. “She laughed some, knowing you’d have the people so quick to judge you come calling in the hopes you’d sell her little piece of heaven.”
Click sat back then. “Sell?” he asked, still absorbing what was happening.
Mr. Glenn’s brows rose. “Hell’s bells, boy, this land is worth more than just money. To the Wallaces and the Boones, it’s about victory. Those two have been nosing around this place since before you were born. Now that there’s a chance they could get it, hold it over the other, you best be prepared for the squabbles and the offers to come rolling in.”
“Right.” He blew out a long, slow breath. Lynnie had brushed aside their offers, determined to hold on to her land—her only legacy. The fact that she wasn’t too fond of Woodrow Boone or Vic Wallace might have something to do with it. To Lynnie, Woodrow Boone was a self-important ass and Vic Wallace an unforgiving curmudgeon. Other insults included money-grubbing, unappreciative and bullies. Click had no reason to believe otherwise.
He frowned. Last time he saw Woodrow Boone, the man had been holding a shotgun, scowling at him.
He’d never met Vic Wallace, not formally. He and Brody had been bawled out by the man for shooting rabbits without permission. Even after Brody had explained he was trying to protect his mother’s garden from the varmints, Mr. Wallace had turned a cold eye on Click and blamed him for his son’s reckless behavior. He’d been asked to leave and not come back.
Selling Lynnie’s place seemed wrong—especially since he knew she didn’t want either one of them to have her place. But staying here, being smack-dab in the middle of a feud, wasn’t his idea of a peaceful existence either.
Lynnie had been his confidante. Then Tandy. Now
he had no one. And no idea what to do. He studied the old man. “If you were in my shoes, what would you do?” Click asked the older man.
Kevin Glenn laughed. “I’d cool my jets and wait and see what the great and powerful Wallace and Boone were willing to throw your way. There’s no rush here, son. This is yours, period. Once you sell, though, there’s no going back.”
Pearl’s baby monitor crackled, the sound of her hiccups echoing in the kitchen.
“That right there is the only thing you need to focus on. That little thing don’t care if you’re living high on the hog or out of your truck. As long as she’s got you to care for her, she’s happy. You hold on to that, you’ll always be doing the right thing.” Mr. Glenn pushed himself from his chair. “I best be heading back before the missus gets fired up. I’m late for dinner, it’ll be a month before I hear the end of it.”
Click stood and walked the man to the door. “I appreciate you coming out here.”
He nodded. “People have been making bets about whether you or her cousin in El Paso was inheriting the place. Just so you know, once these papers are filed, everyone will know you’re the proud owner of Lynnie Hale’s ranch.”
“How long should that take?” he asked.
“Depends on Berta Santos, the county clerk. If she’s having a good day, before the end of the week. If she and her kids are fighting, could be a month.” He winked. “Night.”
“Night.” Click nodded at the older man, watching him make his way from the porch to his mint-condition 1976 Chevrolet pickup truck. It was a damn fine piece of machinery. Sitting next to Click’s truck, it was hard to miss just how sad a state his own truck was in. Rusted-out, mismatched doors, the liner of the cab falling down and radio that had next to no reception. But, most of the time, it got him from here to there.
For the first time in his life, he could buy a truck. Something new if he wanted to. Something with reliable air-conditioning and no short in the headlamp wiring. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. Lynnie Hale had been one of a kind. His great-aunt had always gone above and beyond for him. Many a time he’d wondered at it.
Nate Hale, Click’s no-good son of a bitch father, had seen fit to visit only when he was dumping off Click, picking him up or looking for a handout. Lynnie had never batted an eye or turned the man out. Click hadn’t had much of a male role model, but he’d had something better. He’d had Lynnie.
Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones 0f Texas Book 6) Page 6
