Counting on a Cowboy

by Debra Clopton

  Sergio bent over laughing then tickled Levi on the belly where he lay in the playpen cuddling a bottle. “They teach you everything you need to know. That’s what my mother says. And she should know—she has six kids.”

  “She’s a brave woman.” Bo was only half teasing. He set to work pulling parts from the box. To his surprise, he had it put together before hungry boy finished. “I’ve got to get this all figured out so I can get back to work. Thanks for working overtime the last two days.”

  “Anytime, boss. What’s his name?”

  “Levi. He’s real cute, but man, what a surprise.” He decided on the best place to set the swing where he could see Levi at all times, but Levi would be safe.

  “My sister has one of those and her kid loves it.”

  “That’s just what I need.” Bo knew he was going to have to get this daddy business figured out soon or he was in trouble. He had orders overflowing for his stirrups.

  Thankfully, the swing worked great. He tucked Levi in it and cranked the handle, and it started its back and forth motion. Levi grinned and cooed and decided his fingers were real interesting as he lifted them up and studied them while the swing rocked him back and forth. Bo backed away, slowly, not wanting to disturb the kid doing something so constructive. If Bo could find his fingers that enthralling, he’d never get anything done. But hey, it was working for the baby. That was a blessing sent straight from heaven . . . and at this point Bo was glad to get anything he could get.

  Abby laughed as Big Shorty, the owner of The Bull Barn, brought out her club sandwich. The thing was a monster. It was built with thick Texas-sized toast rather than regular-sized bread and she could only imagine that the carb count was off the charts. And then the bacon—piles of thick slices topped with turkey, tomatoes, and lettuce. A work of art just begging to be eaten. “Well, it might not be healthy but I am overwhelmed with awe.”

  Big Shorty, and everyone within hearing, laughed at that. “I try to please. I can tell you that it’s made from some of the best ingredients around, even the bacon—just take it in moderation. All those vegetables come straight from my wife’s garden—nothin’ alien on them.”

  Abby took a bite. She started nodding the instant the homemade bread touched her taste buds. “That’s wonderful,” she said when she’d finished her bite.

  Big Shorty and everyone around Abby chuckled.

  “That’s just what I like to hear.” He tipped his head and hustled over to lead none other than Doobie, Doonie, and Rand Radcliff to the table right next to them. Then he headed back to the kitchen, joking with several customers on the way.

  “Nice to see you again,” Rand said. She’d learned his soft-spoken nature yesterday when she’d met him while signing the rental agreement.

  “Nice to see you again too. I can’t wait to move into the house. Thank you again for renting it to me.”

  “My pleasure, indeed.”

  She talked for a moment with the brothers and her new landlord. While his two friends were more outgoing and talkative, he was quieter, more reserved.

  “So,” Clara Lyn said, after everyone had taken a few bites of their lunch. “We went and saw the baby last night. Cute as a butter bean. And that Bo is in way over his head. Have you heard from him?”

  “Me?” Abby wasn’t at all certain why they were thinking she’d heard from Bo. It made her very uncomfortable. She’d been trying hard not to think of the cowboy and the baby he knew nothing about taking care of. But try as she might, worry crept in continually. Clara Lyn was nodding at her with encouragement. Abby tried not to squirm in her chair. “Um, no,” she said.

  “No,” Reba said, looking distressed. “Oh, I thought maybe he and you . . . well, you know.”

  “No,” Abby coughed, choking on her water. “I just helped him out because I was with him when he found the baby.” There, that was clarification—much needed since there seemed to be a lot of people in the diner paying attention to their conversation.

  “Well, that boy needs your help,” Doonie, she assumed, said. “He hardly knew which end was up yesterday.”

  Doobie grinned, eyes crinkling at the edges. “That baby is probably wearing a diaper on its head this morning.”

  That got chuckles from around the room.

  Big Shorty was even grinning. “I’d sure feel for the man. But it’s an odd bunch of tomatoes that the kid is just showing up out of the blue like he did. We were sorry to hear his mother had died. That’s real tragic.”

  “Madge seemed to think she willed the baby to Bo—you know, him being the daddy and all,” a man from about four tables over offered.

  Abby thought that sounded a little rude, but kept her mouth shut and found Rand watching her with an inquisitive gaze. Despite being the owner of the newspaper, he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t asked questions either, but he was observing and listening. Abby suddenly wondered, at the rate things were going, if Bo would find an announcement in the paper about Levi’s arrival whenever the weekly issue came out.

  She started worrying that maybe she should have helped Bo out more.

  Lunch continued with more speculation about Bo and the baby. Somewhere in the middle of the meal and all the widespread nosiness she realized there was something going on between Rand and Pebble. The man couldn’t keep his eyes off Pebble. Abby couldn’t decide if Pebble liked the attention or not. She hardly looked at Rand and she didn’t really say a lot during the meal, but when she did look at him, her skin flushed.

  Interesting. Abby’s curiosity was piqued. Pebble clearly had an admirer, but was she happy about it? On the drive over Pebble had said she’d made peace with her loss but did that include finding a place in her heart for another man? The idea made Abby uneasy . . . it was hard to imagine for herself.

  Bo stirred up feelings that made her uncomfortable, but that was no reason to ignore that he needed help.

  Abby’s thoughts churned all the way back to the motel after lunch. She couldn’t get Bo off her mind. She called the shop only to find her car was going to take another day to have ready. Something about a part having to be shipped in. The image of Bo trying to cope kept sliding across her vision and wouldn’t stop. She headed over to the office and asked Pebble if she would mind if she borrowed her car. And just as she’d thought, Pebble handed the keys over without hesitation.

  So here she was driving up the lane of the Four of Hearts Ranch with a fluttery stomach and a voice telling her she was making a big mistake.

  I’m just checking in on them. No commitment.

  “Right,” she said loud and firm. She was simply being a good neighbor. Being a good neighbor just as he’d been when she had wrecked her car . . . true, it had been his cow’s fault that she’d wrecked but still, he’d taken responsibility and she was certain he would have done anything to help her any way she needed.

  And that bothered her because she hadn’t been willing to do the same.

  After the wreck, after losing . . . she’d stopped being that kind of person. She’d become focused completely on her own pain.

  And that had to stop.

  She passed a truck as she drove up the ranch drive. The young man driving waved.

  When she got to the house, no one answered the door. Abby turned and stared down the lane toward the red barn that sat between the horse stables and Pops’s house.

  She could see Bo’s truck there.

  Abby decided to walk. As she came close to the red building, she saw that the sign on the building was the Four of Hearts brand like the one on the entrance of the ranch, a large number four with a heart coming out of the straight side of the number, but this one had the word stirrups in capital letters beneath it. So this was where he worked.

  Her determination faltered.

  Through the open door she could see the baby swing sitting still as Bo bent over a workbench. She could see his profile—he was concentrating hard on whatever he was working on. Country western music played, Clint Black’s gorgeous, raspy, me
lodic voice swayed through the room, and she could see Bo singing along, lost in his own world. Abby couldn’t move. Her gaze strayed over him, instantly her pulse kicked up, and attraction, strong and interested, rose up from its dust-covered ruins inside of her.

  Bo held something in his hand that looked like a small branding iron, but it had an electric cord coming out of it. As she watched, he grasped it with both hands and carefully held it to something she couldn’t make out. She thought it looked like a piece of wood. Was it a stirrup?

  Her heart pounded, threatening to come out of her chest. She took a step forward despite not wanting to feel the sensations coursing through her. She wasn’t ready for this feeling of energy fueled by attraction. But she couldn’t force herself to turn away and leave.

  As if he heard her, he looked up and those blue eyes had her thinking . . . that she needed to get back in her car and drive away. Very, very fast.

  What was wrong with her?

  11

  “Abby,” Bo said, startled to find her there when he looked up from branding stirrups. His gaze collided with hers, and he swallowed hard. Despite how busy he’d been with Levi, she’d hovered at the edges of his thoughts.

  “I-I came to see how you and Levi were doing.”

  Heart pounding, he laid the miniature electric brand on the workbench and stepped toward her. The air seemed to crackle between them and he knew it wasn’t his imagination. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and he was more than happy right then. She had come to check on them.

  “I’m doin’ all right. He’s sleeping.” She looked away from him and toward Levi. Her expression grew soft again.

  He nodded as she came inside the building. Her sandals clicked lightly on the concrete.

  She was beautiful. He was drawn to the smooth way she moved, the gentle sway of her hips, the graceful way she tipped her head as she looked almost shyly at him. There was something elusive about her. Something about her that stirred him in a way that confused him, grabbed his attention, and hadn’t let go from the moment he first saw her.

  “He looks content.”

  Bo caught the surprise in her eyes, as if she hadn’t expected Levi to be content, quiet. Happy. It stung his pride, but then she’d seen Bo at his worst, so he shouldn’t be surprised. There was no hiding his incompetence. She’d seen it all. He’d been a mess when they’d found Levi.

  “It’s not so bad,” he hedged.

  “That’s good. Well, I just came to see if you needed anything. But you look like you’ve been doing this for years—you have it all under control. That’s great.”

  She was backing toward the door . . . she was leaving.

  “Hey, wait, slow down there. I didn’t say I had it under control. I said things weren’t so bad. People have called offering to help and I talked to the midwife from Over the Rainbow a little while ago and she made me feel a little more at ease. Said babies don’t break, but they do take getting used to.” He grinned, remembering Peg’s words of wisdom. “But to be honest, I’m dying for some help. I’m not getting any work done and I’ve got a backload of orders that I need to get out the door quickly. At the rate I’m going the last two days, I won’t fill all the orders I have for two, maybe three years.”

  “Oh.” She halted, a tiny frown on her face. “That won’t work.”

  “Look, I was wondering—I know you turned me down before. But you said you were going to look for work and maybe this isn’t something you want to do all the time, but if you’d let me hire you for at least a short while, I’d sure appreciate it. Levi’s comfortable with you. It would give me time to catch my breath and then I could look for someone to take your place.”

  She was the right one for the job and he knew it. There were others he could hire and he knew that, too, but something in his gut told him Abby was the one for this job. At least for as long as he could get her. She’d have everything running smoothly in no time—long as there was no blood. If this was an active toddler, he might worry about that part . . . he and his brothers had been terrors and there had been lots of cuts and scrapes.

  Nope, this was good. This was perfect.

  Could she do this? Abby looked from Bo to the sleeping baby. Can I?

  From deep inside of her she felt an ache—it would be easier to deny his request. But she knew that Levi needed her.

  Bo did too—but this was about a baby, a motherless baby boy. Surely there was someone else better than her who should—

  “I’ll do it,” she heard herself say. “For a little while. Until you can find someone to help you full time. I’m not committing long term.” She couldn’t do that. But she could help get them going on the right track until Bo got his legs beneath him and had time to find not just someone to watch Levi but the right person to watch over him.

  Instantly she was engulfed in Bo’s arms. She gasped as he lifted her from the ground and spun her around. “Yes! Thank you.”

  Almost immediately he set her down and backed a step away. “Sorry. Was so blamed happy, I lost control again.”

  Abby smoothed hair from her forehead with the flat of her hand in a slow movement, taking the moment to try and compose the turmoil his sudden action had set loose inside of her. She was going to have to start being on the lookout for his out of nowhere bear hugs.

  Her cheeks burned with heat. “It’s fine,” she mumbled just as Levi started crying. She reached for him automatically. Unclasping the safety belt, she pulled Levi into her arms. “Hey, little darling,” she said gently as he curled against her heart as if digging a place for himself there. Abby’s hands tightened protectively around him as her heart faltered and she wondered what she was doing. Her heart had been broken beyond repair when the drunk driver had driven into their lane—she’d come here to push herself to start feeling again, but committing to take care of this tiny angel scared her. Was this too much to ask of her broken and barren heart?

  Bo moved to stand beside her. “He’s probably hungry and wet. Let’s head back to the house and fix all of that.”

  Abby pulled herself out of her inward battle. “Sure,” she said, hearing the fear in her voice and hoping Bo didn’t as she followed him out the door.

  “And Abby.” He paused to look at her. “I’m grateful to you. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, and I’m doing it for Levi,” she said, not knowing if it was for his benefit or her own.

  “We’ll come back for Pebble’s car later.” He showed her his dimple, grinning, and held the door of his truck open.

  “Good plan.” She let him help her settle into the seat with the baby in her arms.

  The drive down the lane was over in a moment. Solomon was on the back porch lying on his back, his feet hanging limply at his side. He was snoring so loudly he didn’t hear the truck pull up.

  “He’s not exactly the greatest guard dog . . .” Bo said dryly. “But he’s sure entertainin’ when he’s sleeping and not barking.”

  The awkward way the rotund pooch was lying had Abby smiling, then suddenly his feet started churning in air. “He’s having a dream.”

  “He’s a heavy dreamer. If he were human, he’d be talking in his sleep about now.”

  Abby laughed again and felt the weight in her chest ease up. When Bo got out and slammed his truck door the old dog came alive. He woke howling, scrambling to his feet with startling agility, then immediately hid behind the planter by the door.

  “Guard dog. See?” Bo laughed as he opened her door. Solomon followed them into the house then sat in the corner watching them with cocked head. But Abby’s attention was drawn away from the dog to the room.

  Down in Bo’s workshop, everything had looked completely under control—not so in the house. It was a wreck. The first things she noticed were the cabinet doors standing open, baby bottles open on the counter, and though they were empty, they were not clean. Some were even on the floor. Formula powder trailed over the counter where Bo had filled bottles but not had time to clean up.

>   He hustled to the counter and pulled open the dishwasher. “It’s a mess. If you’ll change his diaper, I’ll get him a bottle and some baby food and clean up while you feed him. How does that sound?”

  She fought off a chuckle. “I think that’ll work. See you in a minute.” She headed into the living room and over to the couch. The dog followed, hovering close by, and Abby realized he was watching Levi. Within moments she had Levi all cleaned up and happy—though he was intent on getting down to crawl. She held onto him and he started squealing happily when she slipped him into his high chair and opened the jar of baby food.

  “Look, you’re having green peas. Mmm, I love green peas,” Abby coaxed as he opened wide and basically inhaled the green goop then clapped his hands and grinned at Solomon who was sitting two feet away, clearly interested in everything the baby was doing.

  “I am glad I’m older,” Bo said from where he was using the bottle brush on the dirty bottles before loading them into the upper drawer of the dishwasher. “That stuff looks awful.”

  She laughed then. “It looks bad, but it’s just pureed green peas, same as we eat.”

  “You have to admit it doesn’t look appetizing at all.”

  “It does if you’re a hungry baby.”

  He grinned. “Right. What was I thinking? It’s all about perspective.”

  Abby gave Levi another small spoonful of peas and smiled tenderly at him. “That’s a good boy,” she encouraged and gave him another bite. “So, have you heard anything from the sheriff?”

  “He called today.” Bo paused and pulled soapy hands from the water to turn and look at her. “Everything checks out. He’s just turned one. His birthday is August tenth, about a month ago, and I am legally Levi’s father—according to all the paperwork. If I want I can do a paternity test to determine if I really am. You know, to make sure Darla didn’t just put my name on the birth certificate.”

  “Do you think she might have done that?”

  He grabbed a towel and wiped his drippy hands, then leaned against the counter. “She didn’t strike me as someone who would do something like that. But in truth, I only knew her for about the span of four weeks. I hate to say that and for you to see that I have a son because of it. It doesn’t really speak well for me or Darla, I guess.”