“We weren’t trying to keep that a secret. She was staying there.” He pointed at the cabin. “It’s not like I don’t have the room. She’s a real help with Pearl, too.” Which was true. After their run-in, Woodrow Boone couldn’t be happy about his niece moving in, but he hadn’t sent anyone or anything to clear the wreckage away. So Click had repaired that part of the fence first, reinforcing the sheep and goat wiring and putting in new fence stays to make sure the goats, Banshee and Pearl didn’t wander that way.
“She can’t stay there. No, sirree,” Mr. Glenn agreed. “That’d be downright dangerous. How long she staying with you?”
Click glanced at the older man. “I didn’t give her a deadline.”
Mr. Glenn scratched his chin. “I was real fond of your aunt, Click. And she was real fond of you. So I’m just going to come right out with it. I’m not telling you what to do here, but it might be best for Miss Boone to find someplace else to rest her pretty little head. Just until this custody business is done and over.”
Click met the old man’s gaze. There was no judgment there, just concern. “I appreciate that,” he said.
Mr. Glenn smiled and made his way to his truck. “Like your new ride, Click.” He touched the rim of his beaten cowboy hat before driving away.
Click leaned against the porch railing, savoring the silence. The sky was a deep blue, darker each second. The wind was constant, but it didn’t howl like the day of the storm. It whispered, carrying with it the sounds of the plains. Rustling grass, the distant bleat of the goat and snort of his horses, the call of a black hawk hunting mice. It was peaceful.
“Click?” Tandy joined him on the porch. “She was sound asleep before I covered her with her blanket.”
He slid an arm around her. “It’s been a long day.”
She studied him, staying stiff in his hold. “Did Mr. Glenn have good news?”
“I’m not sure I’d call it good news.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “If it comes to a court case, there’s a chance it could get personal.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Digging into her past. Digging into mine. Weighing who’s better for Pearl.” He sighed. “I don’t want to lose Pearl, but I don’t want to deprive her of her mother. If Georgia’s turned her life around, Pearl deserves to have her in her life.” But his heart hurt at the thought of not seeing her every day. He hadn’t planned on being a father. Now that he was, he didn’t want to be part-time. His arms tightened around Tandy, needing her comfort. But she stayed rigid, almost braced. He frowned down at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard what he said. About me staying here.” Her voice dropped. “I think he’s right.”
“I don’t,” he argued.
She pushed out of his hold. “I do.”
He tried to stay calm, gripping the porch railing for support. “Tandy, I need you here—”
“No, you don’t.” She shook her head. “You need to do what’s right for Pearl. And you. And I need to do what’s right for me.”
Warning bells went off in his head. She wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t touch him... “Talk to me.”
“I just did.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I... I’m not going to complicate things with Pearl and her...mother.” She blew out a slow breath. “We’ve both been through too much. You’re stronger than me. You have a reason to keep fighting.” She glanced his way. It was quick, but it was enough. The pain and fear in her eyes gripped him by the throat.
“We can do this,” he rasped. Two months ago he was alone. The possibility of a family, a home or making plans for the future never entered his mind. Now he had Pearl and Tandy and this place.
“I don’t think I can,” she admitted. “I need space.”
Headlights appeared.
“That’s Scarlett,” Tandy said.
Click’s heart thudded heavily in his chest. All he could do was stand there, watching, while she loaded her suitcase into Scarlett’s truck. If she said something else, he didn’t hear it. She’d said he had a reason to keep fighting. He’d hoped she had one, too. He’d hoped she’d fight for him, for them. And it tore his heart out to know he was wrong.
Chapter Seventeen
The next week had her falling into a sort of routine. As long as Tandy didn’t give herself time to think, she managed.
After breakfast at Fire Gorge, she drove one of the old ranch trucks into Fort Kyle—to Dr. Edwards’s clinic. Some days she worked at the clinic, other days she was in the mobile unit. Dr. Edwards was still disorganized and distracted, but Tandy didn’t let it get to her. Her new philosophy was all about wearing herself out, no matter how many extra hours she put in or how many patients she saw.
No matter how hard she worked, every night was the same. Her heart ached for Click and Pearl. She’d pick up the phone to call him, to hear his voice and know he was okay. Every day she doubted what she’d done.
“You got a letter today,” Scarlett said, handing her the gold-embossed envelope.
University of East Texas College of Veterinary Medicine. “Guess they weren’t sure I got the first rejection letter,” she said. “I’m going to shower.”
“You’re not going to read it?” Scarlett asked.
She closed the bathroom door, shrugging out of her clothes as she called out, “Go ahead.” She stood under the hot water, washing away the dust and animal hair. Her stomach growled loudly. There’d been so much to do she’d forgotten to eat, again.
Scarlett’s pounding had her turning off the water before she was ready.
“I’m coming,” she said, wrapping a towel around herself and stepping out. “Give me sec.”
“Open the door, Tandy,” Scarlett said.
Tandy yanked the door open. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She held the letter up to Tandy’s face. “Nothing at all. Read it.”
We are pleased to inform you that a space has become available for the next academic year. In order to accept the spot, please reply by... Tandy snatched the paper from Scarlett’s fingers and read it again.
“You’re getting it all wet,” Scarlett argued.
“I was in the shower,” she murmured, stunned. She was in—finally. Which was good. Great. Wasn’t it?
“Good news, right?” Scarlett asked.
Poor Scarlett had picked her up from Click’s without asking a single question. Every day, she chattered away as if she understood Tandy couldn’t bear to talk about whatever had happened. And for that, Tandy was thankful.
“Yes.” Tandy hugged her, not sure what to think or feel. “It’s great news.” So why wasn’t she more excited? And why did she want to share the good news with Click?
“We should do something to celebrate,” Scarlett said, smiling widely. “But, Dad needs me. I’ll be back later. We’ll go do something?”
Tandy nodded. “Of course. Yes. Go on.” She waved her toward the door and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her letter.
She read the letter again and again, searching for the excitement she’d imagined.
The strumming of a guitar had her digging through her things for her cell phone.
Click.
She stared at it, the guitar ringtone strumming again and again.
“Hello?” she answered.
Pearl’s cries echoed through the receiver.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, standing.
“Pearl’s got an ear infection. She’s had her meds but...she wants you.” His voice was gruff. “I didn’t want to bother you, but she won’t calm down.”
Bother her? She didn’t need to think about her answer. Pearl was sick and wanted her. “I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and started shrugging into clean clothes.
In less than five minutes she was headed to Click’s—tangled mop of wet hair and all.
Pearl would eventually stop crying, logically she knew this. And that she was putting herself right back in the vulnerable position that scared her. But it didn’t matter. She kept driving. Apparently, all it took to set aside her sense of self-preservation was Pearl’s cries.
Banshee bailed out of the truck as soon as they arrived, Pearl’s wails spilling out into the country air. Tandy followed quickly, pushing through the front door without knocking. She didn’t look at Click, not yet—she was here for Pearl.
“Ta-dee,” Pearl hiccuped, reaching for her as soon as she saw her. “Bashee.”
Tandy took one look at Pearl’s tear-streaked red face and knew she’d done the right thing. “Poor baby,” she whispered, hugging the toddler close. “I’m sorry you feel bad, snuggle bunny.” She patted her back.
“Doc said it was pretty bad.” Click’s voice was low. “She’s real congested, too.”
She could tell. Beneath her hand, Pearl’s lungs wheezed. Poor Pearl. And poor Click. Having a sick baby was scary—especially the first time. She glanced at him, noting the tension in his shoulders and the shadows beneath his eyes. “I know it hurts, snuggle bunny, but you’re going to be okay.” She sat in the rocking chair and started humming.
Pearl shuddered and hiccuped against her, one little hand reaching up to twine in her loose hair. Slowly Pearl calmed, her little voice mirroring Tandy’s.
It was the sweetest sound.
Tandy drew in a deep breath and risked another look Click’s way. She wasn’t prepared for the anger that blazed there. He’d called her but he wasn’t happy about it.
Why would he be? She’d deserted them. Him... Again. When he needed her most. Because she’d let her fear take over—and made the biggest mistake of her life.
Pearl coughed, the heavy barking sound making Click wince.
“Did the doctor talk about getting a nebulizer?” she asked.
He nodded. “Set up in the bedroom already. Gave her a bath in some vapor stuff that stinks to the high heavens, too.”
She smiled at him. He had no idea how amazing he was. “You’ve done all the right things.”
He ran a hand over his face, clearly agitated. “She’s sick. That’s on me.”
“Kids get sick, Click.” She kept patting Pearl’s back, kept her voice calm. “It’s not your fault.”
His eyes slammed into her. “I don’t like it.”
The raw frustration in his voice was so sincere Tandy stopped the smile his words stirred up. Pearl wasn’t the only one who needed comfort. Click looked like his last nerve was stretched taut. Her defection probably hadn’t helped. She kept rocking and humming, trying to think of a way to break the thickening silence. How could she undo what she’d done? But words wouldn’t come.
“She asleep?” Click asked, his voice low and soothing—for Pearl.
Tandy peered down at Pearl, her warm cheek pressed against her chest and her breathing even and deep. “I think so.”
“I can put her down.” His words were hard. “You can go.”
He spoke without malice—but it hurt all the same. “I can do it. I don’t want to wake her.” She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to move. As sorry as she was that Pearl was sick, she’d ached for the sweet weight of this little girl in her arms. She wasn’t in a rush to give her up or leave him.
He nodded, stiff. “Okay.” The word hitched, forcing her to look at him.
The sorrow and yearning on his face mirrored her own. Her heart shuddered, reminding her how irrevocably she was tied to him. Risky or no, there was no way she could walk away from this man. Not really. She had to find the courage and strength to fix this. “Click. I need to talk to you.”
He cleared his throat, the muscle in his jaw working. He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. “Okay.”
Headlights bounced off the far wall, momentarily blinding them.
His gaze traveled over her face before he nodded. “Give me a second. Not expecting anyone. Unless Delgado sent some more men out,” he murmured, pushing through the front door. He caught it at the last minute, before it could bounce of the wall and disturb Pearl.
Because that’s the way Click was—thoughtful and caring.
She pressed a kiss to Pearl’s temple. “I’m an idiot, Pearl. An idiot.” Tears stung her eyes. How had she let the fear of what might happen steal her happiness? Life wasn’t always easy or fair, but she had Click. She had love. Real love.
She stood, causing Pearl to jolt awake.
“Sorry, snuggle bunny,” she whispered.
Pearl rested her head and patted Tandy’s chest. “Da da?”
“Let’s go find him. You can give him night-night kisses. Okay?”
Pearl nodded.
But finding Click talking to a fair-haired woman was unexpected. Click’s posture was telling, but the flash of panic on his face when he saw her—saw Pearl—told Tandy exactly what she needed to know. Click wasn’t talking to a potential employee.
This had to be Georgia Miles. Pearl’s mother.
* * *
“I SHOULD HAVE left a message,” Georgia said again. “I didn’t know what to say. You know?”
He knew exactly what she meant. This whole situation left him speechless. He was scared—not wanting to lose his daughter or make a mistake with the woman who might try to take her from him. Click shrugged. “You’re here now.”
Pearl and Banshee walked along the fence line, without a care in the world. His daughter was too young to remember much. She’d hugged Georgia then toddled after Banshee—determined not to let her favorite four-legged pal out of her sight.
“I don’t think she remembers me,” Georgia said. “She’s walking so well. She started early, though. At nine months she was ready to go.”
Pearl stooped to pick up a stray chicken feather and held it out to Banshee. The dog sniffed it, then sneezed. Pearl’s laughter was a stark contrast to her earlier tantrum.
Click smiled at his daughter. “She’s always on the move, that’s for sure.”
Pearl let Banshee kiss her cheek.
“That dog is awful big,” Georgia said.
“And smart,” Click said. “He takes good care of her.”
“So, you two are doing well?”
He glanced at her, bracing himself. “Yes.” If she could ask, so could he. “How are you doing?” She looked different from what he remembered. Not that he remembered her all that well. The few times they’d met, she’d been hanging off someone’s arm, smiling—and drunk. Now, she looked older, wary. And bone-tired.
Her light brown eyes—the same color as Pearl’s eyes—met his. “It’s been hard. It is hard.”
He nodded. Part of him wanted to rip off the Band-Aid and see what she wanted. The other part wanted to keep dancing around the subject to avoid answers he might not like. Tandy didn’t want him in her life anymore. He couldn’t lose Pearl, too.
“I didn’t mean to chase off your friend,” Georgia said, glancing back at the house. “Pearl seems to like her.”
He nodded again. Pearl adored Tandy. And Tandy loved his little girl. He blew out a deep breath, trying to ease the tension there. “She’s giving us privacy.”
Georgia sighed. “I’m at the hotel in town for a couple of nights, so we can sort things out.”
“Things?” Click asked, an undeniable edge to his voice.
She sighed again. “Pearl.”
Pearl turned around and toddled back to them. “Hi.”
Georgia smiled at her, dropping to her knees. “Hi to you, too.”
Pearl’s gaze traveled from Georgia to Click. She smiled then toddled back to Banshee, patted the dog and kept on walking. Georgia stayed where she was, watching her daughter with smudged eyes. “She seems happy.” Her voice was soft.
“I’ve been trying my hardest, Georgia. She’s pretty eas
y to please.” He watched Pearl stoop to pick up something in the dirt.
“You’ve done a good job,” she said. “Thank you.”
He didn’t want her thanks. He wanted to keep his daughter. He swallowed, nodding.
“I should probably go,” she said. “I don’t know my way around, and it’s getting late.”
“Come out for lunch tomorrow?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Sounds like a plan.” She stopped. “Guess I’ll head back. Bye-bye, Pearl.”
Pearl looked back, her little chin quivering. She shook her head, those black curls bouncing. She ran to him, her little hands reaching for him. “Dada...”
He knelt, holding her tightly to his chest. “I got you, Pearl. No bye-bye.”
She nodded, burying her face against his shirt.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Georgia’s voice wobbled.
She was hurting. What the hell was he supposed to do? He felt for the woman, he did. But his loyalties lay with his daughter. “We’ll walk you back,” he said, scooping Pearl up. “Come on, Banshee.”
“You miss the circuit?” she asked as they walked. “Your life before midnight feedings and dirty diapers?”
He didn’t have to think about his answer. “No.”
“Wish they made more men like you, Click.” She shook her head. “You almost restore a gal’s hope in the opposite sex.”
It took all of his self-control to point out that bars might not be the best place for relationship material. But it wasn’t his place. She was trying to get her life together. That was a good place to start. They walked on, the house growing larger. Tandy had turned on the kitchen and parlor lights, making the windows glow with invitation. And she was inside—waiting to talk to him.
Home. This was home. He ran a hand over Pearl’s back.
“So you’re happy?” She paused, looking at him. “You look good. Damn good.”
“I’m happy.” He smiled at her.
She nodded, patting Pearl’s back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Lunch.” She climbed into her little car and drove down the driveway.
Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones 0f Texas Book 6) Page 18
