A Son for the Cowboy

by Sasha Summers

  “Rowdy can have a turn now,” Otis said, clearly pleased with himself.

  But Rowdy was staring down the road.

  Poppy glanced at her watch. It was almost seven and no Toben. No phone call either. She hoped he had a hell of a good reason for disappointing Rowdy. One that didn’t include drinking, a fight or a woman.

  Rowdy tried, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was distracted and irritable. By the time the sun was dropping, Poppy resorted to drastic actions.

  “Who wants ice cream?” she asked. “Let’s head into town, to the café.”

  “Can I get a milk shake?” Dot asked.

  “Sure,” Poppy agreed, hurrying them into her truck.

  “What if he shows up while we’re gone?” Rowdy asked.

  “I’m sure he’ll call before he makes the drive,” she answered.

  “Think he’s okay?”

  She nodded stiffly. If he was okay, Poppy would make damn sure he knew that what he’d done tonight was not okay. Loudly. With lots of curse words. Rowdy had been looking forward to riding Boone Ranch and spending time with Toben.

  She took her time on the winding roads. The kids chattered away about what sort of ice cream they wanted, how good Otis was at throwing a rope and how they wanted to go swimming again tomorrow.

  “I can’t believe we’re going home soon,” Dot said, sighing. “Feels like we’ve been with you forever.”

  Poppy laughed. She wasn’t going to argue with her niece. It hadn’t been an easy visit, but she was glad things were less painful. Rose and Bob would arrive Sunday evening, stay a few days and leave with the kids Tuesday night. “It’s been fun. And ice cream will make it better.”

  The one café on Main Street was crowded, so she and the kids took seats at the counter.

  Poppy ordered a small vanilla milk shake, shaking her head at the orders the kids placed. Whatever—it was a treat. And Rowdy’s grin was back.

  She glanced around the café, smiling and nodding at those she made eye contact with. Loneliness gripped her. Maybe it was the old couple sharing a sundae in the corner or the teens making out in a booth, but there were times Poppy wanted that sort of connection. Mitchell was as close as she’d come. Not in the passionate, make-out-in-the-corner sort of way. Kissing, intimacy, had been awkward and forced between them—not the way it was meant to be. Unlike her experience with Toben. That night had been all passion, white-hot, plucking every nerve ending and leaving her aching.

  “Like it?” Rowdy asked, glancing doubtfully at her shake.

  “Want a sip?” she asked, offering him the straw.

  He shook his head. “Want a bite?”

  She assessed the pile of brownies, ice cream, whipped cream, sprinkles and a cherry on top. “I’m not sure what to eat.”

  Rowdy scooped off a healthy spoonful of ice cream, far too big to fit into her mouth, and offered her the spoon. He grinned, waiting for her reaction. Poppy opened her mouth as wide as she could, knowing whipped cream smeared her chin and the tip of her nose and not caring in the least.

  Until Toben arrived, his shirt rumpled and his jeans covered in dirt and grease. He took one look at her puffed out cheeks and burst out laughing.

  She wiped off her face, swallowing the mouthful of sticky sweetness as quickly as possible.

  “What happened to you?” Rowdy asked, eyes round.

  “I’m sorry about tonight, Rowdy. I was looking forward to it all day. Tractor got a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. To make things worse, I left my phone in the break room at the ranch, so I couldn’t call for help. Or your mom. Took me an hour to walk back. By then my phone was dead. I was headed your way when I saw your truck.” He glanced at her, sitting on the stool beside her son. “You got something right here.” He took a clean napkin and wiped the side of her nose.

  He was sorry. He’d been stuck in the heat for over an hour. And he’d headed straight to them—to Rowdy. As far as excuses went, these were pretty damn good.

  A man shouldn’t smell this good when he was this dirty.

  “You could have showered first,” Dot said.

  Toben looked down, as if only now aware of his appearance. “Guess I could have cleaned up a little.”

  “No shame ever came from honest hard work.” The words were out before Poppy realized she was saying them. Her granddad’s words. Her cheeks grew hot under his blue-eyed inspection.

  “Want some ice cream?” Rowdy asked. “I got too much.”

  “Don’t want to deprive your ma,” Toben said.

  Poppy rolled her eyes. “Help yourself.”

  Toben shifted, nudging her aside and sharing her stool. He took the spoon the waitress offered him and dug in.

  She slid off the stool but the next one was taken by a well-wrinkled old man wearing an ancient cowboy hat. “Pie,” the old man said to the waitress, shooting Poppy a hard glare before turning his back on her.

  “Anyone would think you were afraid of me, Poppy White.” Toben’s soft words were teasing, but they hit a nerve.

  “Here, Ma.” Rowdy slid over, putting Poppy between him and Dot. “Sorry you had a rough day.”

  Toben shrugged. “Not too bad. Just hot.” He winked at Rowdy. “But it’s good now.”

  The look on Toben’s face made Poppy’s heart thump.

  “Aunt Poppy was teaching us how to throw a rope,” Otis said.

  “A lariat,” Dot corrected. “Otis was pretty good.”

  “He is,” Poppy agreed.

  “Your aunt Poppy can do all sorts of rope tricks.” Toben swallowed a large spoonful of ice cream, his blue eyes meeting hers. “One of the first times we met, she showed me a trick.”

  Poppy’s eyes went round.

  “What happened?” Rowdy asked.

  “I kept trying to get your ma to go on a date with me,” Toben said. “She was stubborn—kept turning me down and ignoring me.”

  “You did?” Rowdy frowned at her.

  “She took rodeo seriously. And once I figured that out, I realized I could get her attention.” He grinned. “I asked her to help me get better with my throw.” He laughed, shaking his head.

  “He knew how to throw just fine.” Poppy joined in then, smiling in spite of herself.

  “After fifteen minutes, she figured out what I was up to and got all riled up. And when she started to walk away, I lassoed her.” Toben was still smiling when he finished.

  “Is that when you changed your mind about him?” Dot asked.

  Poppy shook her head. “No.”

  “That was a couple years later,” Toben added. “I was determined.”

  Poppy tore her gaze from his. She remembered it all too well. She’d been fuming. She’d never known a man so manipulative, infuriating and cocky. And yet his smile and laugh had been impossible to ignore altogether.

  “Too bad it didn’t work out,” Otis said. “You seem like a nice guy.”

  “Mitchell’s a nice guy, too,” Dot said. “And he’s stayed with Aunt Poppy forever.”

  “Mitchell’s a good friend to Ma and me,” Rowdy said.

  Toben’s spoon clattered against the empty glass bowl, drawing all eyes his way. “Sorry.” He grinned.

  But he didn’t look the least bit repentant.

  “My stomach hurts,” Otis groaned.

  “Sounds like it’s time to head home,” Poppy said, hopping off the stool.

  “You wanna come out?” Rowdy asked. “Have coffee on the porch? Ma likes it.”

  Poppy sighed, knowing what Toben’s answer would be and hoping Rowdy wouldn’t be too disappointed.

  “That’s too good an offer to refuse.” Toben stood, smiling down at her, a sparkle in his eye. “Unless your ma says no.” His brows rose, a silent question.

  Wi
th all three of the kids—and the old man on the stool beside them—staring at her, she didn’t really have a choice. “Sure. Coffee sounds good.” But the flutter in her stomach told her she might not be as upset about his maneuverings as she should be.

  * * *

  TOBEN WAS ASLEEP on his feet. He should have gently refused Rowdy’s offer, driven back to the ranch, showered and fallen into his bunk. Instead he was driving farther away from the ranch, bleary-eyed and aching.

  But he followed his son inside the house, listened to him chatter as he made the coffee and managed to keep up some sort of conversation until a steaming cup was placed in front of him. He knocked it back, uncaring that it burned his throat and the roof of his mouth. He was about to pass out at the table.

  “Another cup?” Rowdy asked.

  “Keep it coming,” he agreed.

  He saw Poppy walk through the kitchen, the floor creaking as she went, carrying a full laundry basket. Her hair was down, swinging between her shoulders. And she was humming, soft and sweet.

  “Ma’s pretty,” Rowdy said, sitting beside him at the table.

  “I think so,” Toben agreed.

  “Why didn’t you marry her?” Rowdy asked.

  Toben stared at his son. It was the last question he’d expected him to ask. “Honest?”

  Rowdy nodded.

  “I was an idiot.” He sipped his coffee. If he’d spent less time partying and living in the moment, he might have realized what was right in front of him—what he’d lose.

  Rowdy sighed.

  “Is there anything else you want to ask me?” Toben asked, aware that this might not be as straightforward as he hoped.

  Rowdy thought about it, his face scrunched up in concentration. “You don’t rodeo anymore, like Ma. Did you get hurt like she did? Or decide you were done?”

  Toben was awake then. “Your mom got hurt?”

  Rowdy nodded. “Broke three ribs, punctured her lung, had her right arm in a sling for a long time,” he said. “Still hurts sometimes.” He leaned forward to whisper. “She doesn’t like that I notice that.”

  “She likes to be strong,” Toben agreed.

  “She is strong.”

  “That she is.” Toben stared at his son. “I was done. I’ll still ride for special events but I’m too old. I figure it’s time for me to settle down.”

  “You married?” Rowdy asked.

  “Nope.”

  Rowdy paused. “And I’m your only kid?”

  “Just you, kid.”

  Rowdy grinned. “Girlfriend?”

  Toben shook his head.

  “How many Boones are there?”

  “Lots,” Toben asked. “I was hoping to introduce you to a few of them tonight, but that didn’t quite work out.” He winked. “You can meet them all Thursday night. If you want?”

  Rowdy nodded. “Think they’ll like me?”

  Toben ruffled his son’s curls. “I know they will.”

  “Rowdy.” Poppy’s voice interrupted them. “It’s almost ten.”

  “Bedtime?” Toben asked.

  “Nine,” Rowdy said. “Guess she’s breaking the rules tonight,” he whispered, then said, “Coming, Ma.”

  Toben hugged Rowdy tight. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Thanks for the talk,” Rowdy said.

  “You think of more questions, I’ll give you the answers.”

  “’Night...Dad.” Rowdy winked at him, then hurried from the kitchen.

  Toben’s heart was so full. He ran a hand along the back of his neck and stole a look at the woman in the doorway. Poppy smiled at Rowdy as he brushed past, her unfiltered love for their son a thing to see.

  He stood, finishing off his cup of coffee, and washed out the cup before he leaned against the counter.

  “You need a shower and a bed,” Poppy said.

  He nodded. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “You...you can stay. There’s room. You’d have your own room. If you want?” She shifted from foot to foot.

  “I don’t mind a roommate now and then.” Sleeping in a bunkhouse meant that was more the norm than the exception.

  “Oh, I know.” Her tone was tight and edged with temper. Her face told him she’d interpreted his comment in a completely different way. “Wouldn’t want to mess up plans for later on this evening.”

  He chuckled. Was she jealous? He liked it. More than a little. “Nine times out of ten, I sleep in a bunkhouse on the ranch, Poppy.” He watched her posture ease, her expression clear. “And, just so we’re clear, I haven’t had plans since you came to Stonewall Crossing.” He saw the slight smile she wore and wondered at it. “Nice to know you care.”

  “I do not care. Rowdy’d be devastated if you wrecked on your way home.” She crossed her arms , avoiding his gaze.

  He crossed the room until they were so close he could see the unsteady rise and fall of her chest. “But you’d be okay with it?”

  She stared up at him, blinking rapidly. She stepped back but there was nowhere to go. “W-with what?” Her words wavered.

  He shook his head, his hand unsteady as he reached for her.

  “Toben.” Her tone was soft, but he heard the plea.

  He stopped, his gaze pinning hers.

  “We’re not going to do this,” she said. “We’re different people. This is a different world. One I’ve worked hard to give me and Rowdy.”

  “No room for me?” he asked, trying to keep it light—even if her words hurt.

  “You’re his father.” She stepped around him. “I’m not going to interfere.”

  He sighed and spun to face her. She wanted to pretend this didn’t exist? That this attraction between the two of them would fade? Maybe it would. That would be a damn shame. He’d been attracted to women before, too many. But nothing compared to the spark between him and Poppy. God knows he’d spent plenty of time hoping that wasn’t the case.

  She was right about Rowdy. He was the boy’s father. He wanted to be that father. Looking at Poppy, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to give the whole family thing a real chance. The shit that used to make him run for the hills sounded almost...tempting.

  “We should work out a visitation arrangement,” Poppy was saying, pushing out the screen door and stepping onto the porch. “A schedule—”

  “You think that’s necessary?” He followed, staring at her, waiting.

  She glanced at him. “I don’t know. I don’t know what you want.”

  He moved to her side, staring out over the small ranch she was intent on making her own. He swallowed back what he wanted to say. She’d bolt like a green bronc if he told her he wanted to be a part of this—all of this. And maybe, just maybe, a part of her life, too.

  Hell, realizing that made him want to bolt.

  “I want to be a part of Rowdy’s life. Not once a week or on holidays and weekends. I want to see him first thing in the morning on a Monday for no reason. I want to take him to school. I want to help him with homework, watch him grow.” He looked at her then. “I don’t know how you want me to do that. All I know is that’s what I want.”

  Poppy looked up at him. “I know Rowdy would like that.”

  “What about you, Poppy? Is a quiet family life going to be enough for you?” He turned, leaning against the porch railing. “The girl I knew wanted to rodeo until the day she died. She had big dreams and a plan to make them happen. Nothing and no one was going to stop that. I figured that out real quick.”

  Her brow furrowed. “You did? After hounding me for three years? After using every trick in the book to catch my attention and making me feel like a fool over and over again, turning my head one minute only to take some pretty sweet thing home for the night? I don’t know how you turned what
happened between us into something that happened to you.” She pressed her hands flat on the porch railing. “I did have dreams, dreams I fulfilled. But the motivation wasn’t the same. I had nothing and no one to help me with the baby boy placed in my arms the second I rode out of the arena. He replaced every other dream I had. Making sure he has a good, stable life is the best dream I can offer Rowdy.”

  Her words rocked Toben to his core. He knew she’d lost her parents, knew the grandparent who raised her had challenged her riding every step of the way, fearing she’d end up like her daddy. It made sense that with Rowdy, giving him love and acceptance was all that mattered to her now.

  He respected her all the more for it.

  “Let me help. I can’t go back and change things, even if I wish I could. I wasn’t there in the beginning, but I’m here now.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck.

  “I... For how long?” she whispered.

  He stilled. In the grand scheme of things, it was a fair question.

  “Being part of his everyday life isn’t a small thing, Toben. And I never pegged you as a commitment man.” She spoke a little louder now.

  “I wasn’t.” Those images of Mitchell with Rowdy and Poppy sprang up again. “Is that why you’re with Mitchell?”

  “I never said I was with Mitchell.” She shook her head, leveling a glare his way. “You are incredible! Mitchell is a friend—my best friend, period. Not that my personal life is any of your business—”

  “Bullshit.” He raised an eyebrow. “If it affects my son, it’s my business.” But he couldn’t deny how damn happy her words made him.

  “You can’t be serious.” Her mouth fell open. Then she laughed. “I don’t have the time or energy to monitor who goes home with you.”

  “So you’d be okay with Rowdy knowing about my past?” he asked. And it was his past now—not the distant past, more like two weeks ago. But he didn’t miss it—the women, the hangovers or the inability to fill the ache deep inside.

  “I’m not going to lie to him, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll admit I’m hoping he doesn’t ask.” She stepped closer. “But if you ever, I mean ever, introduce him to one of your saddle tramps, there will be a reckoning.”