Single Dad Cowboy

by Brenda Minton

  Even Breezy was in on it now. This was exactly why he’d made that proposition to Harmony.

  Vera, owner of the Mad Cow Café, walked out of the kitchen. She spotted him and headed his way. “Dylan, those are two cute babies you’ve got there.”

  “I’m not a baby,” Callie informed Vera, her little mouth turning in a serious frown. “I’m four.”

  Vera took the seat next to Callie. “Well, that makes you almost grown, doesn’t it? And what are you going to eat today, Sugar Plum?”

  “I’m having chicken strips and fries. Cash needs green beans.”

  Dylan pulled off his hat and swiped a hand through hair that needed to be cut. His gaze shifted from the little girl sitting across from him to the woman on the other side of the restaurant.

  He should invite her to sit with them. Even if she didn’t want to take him up on his offer.

  “What are you looking at, Dylan Cooper?” Vera leaned in a little. Nothing got past Vera.

  “I was thinking I should invite Harmony Cross to sit with us. We have an extra chair—” the one Vera was occupying “—and she looks pretty lonely.”

  Vera glanced back at Harmony, then shot him a knowing look. “Is that the way the wind is blowing?”

  “There ain’t no wind in Oklahoma that strong, Vera. I’m just being neighborly. Could you watch these two for a minute?”

  Vera laughed but nodded her agreement, and Dylan scooted his chair back and headed Harmony’s direction. She looked up from the menu and glared at him as he sat down across from her.

  “Eating alone isn’t good for a person’s digestion,” he said, using an old line that had gotten him more than one date over the years. Harmony Cross just laughed.

  “It’s a truce, Dylan, not a courtship.”

  “I know that, I was just being...”

  “Charming?”

  For the first time in a long while, the smile on his face came easily. “Yeah, that’s me, Mr. Charming.”

  “I don’t remember that being your nickname.”

  “No, probably not. But you might as well join me and the kids for supper.”

  “Because you think you’re full of good ideas. Like I didn’t hear that waitress tell you she’d help you find a wife.”

  “Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “And it is a good idea.”

  “It might be.”

  He stood up, offering her his hand and she took it. Her hand was small and soft in his. He hadn’t expected to really feel anything. He definitely hadn’t expected the strange surge of protectiveness or the odd urge to hold her close.

  He guessed if she knew what he was thinking, she would have sat back down and refused to ever speak to him again. Instead he worked on remaining charming and nothing more. He didn’t need attachments and he guessed she didn’t, either.

  But taking her to his table would give everyone in town the notion that he and Harmony Cross were becoming attached.

  Attached.

  He could tell them all, if they asked, why a man would be attached to Harmony. Or want to be attached. It would have to do with the soft hand in his, the warmth of her smile and the sweet, floral scent that wrapped him up and drew him even closer.

  A green bean smacked him in the face, and that dose of reality helped him get back to the man he knew he was. He pulled out a chair for Harmony and removed himself enough to take a deep breath.

  Chapter Three

  After a meal spent sitting next to Dylan as he cajoled the two children into eating vegetables, and even forced her to finish her fries, Harmony walked out the door of the Mad Cow. She knew that their departure would set off a firestorm of talk. She convinced herself she didn’t care. It had been a good hour of being entertained and not thinking. It was exactly what she’d needed, in ways Dylan Cooper wouldn’t have known.

  The sun had set and the evening air was cooler with a breeze kicking up from the north. It didn’t matter what people were saying. For tonight, Harmony had enjoyed herself.

  Dylan held on to the two children, Callie and Cash. She watched him wrangle them, holding their hands and keeping calm as he led them across the parking lot.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked as he opened the truck door and hefted Cash with one arm.

  “Compared to what, a tetanus shot?” she teased.

  She unlocked her door and waited as he put the children in their car seats. As much as she wanted to sit down, she didn’t. Instead she backed against her car and watched him lean inside the truck. His husky voice carried as he talked to the kids about bedtime and baths. He sounded for all the world like a man who had been a dad for a long time. As much as he smiled and joked, though, she’d noticed the weariness evident in his face, in eyes that looked as if they’d seen too much of life.

  He finished with the kids, then mirrored her, backing against his truck as if they had all night.

  He pushed his hat back and she could see his too-handsome face. Traitorous memories returned, of the one kiss they’d shared. Even though it had ended with him teasing her, it had still been a kiss a girl couldn’t forget.

  “So, what do you think?”

  She opened her car door and sat down. If he was going to take forever, she needed a seat. “About?”

  Of course she knew he meant his idea. And she had yet to tell him she’d already put his plan into action, letting Wyatt and Rachel Johnson think that Dylan’s help was the only help she’d need.

  He moved away from the truck and squatted next to her as she sat in her car, hitching up his jeans as he bent long legs. “Tonight worked out well. You didn’t have to eat alone, dodging people asking how you’re doing. I escaped more discussions on prospective wives. I saw Wyatt and Rachel Johnson’s truck heading up to your place a while ago. I guess that isn’t their first visit?”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “I heard my mom say she’s coming by tomorrow to check on you.”

  “I love your mom.”

  “But you don’t need a daily check-in.”

  She smiled at that. “No, I don’t.”

  He stood and leaned on the side of her car, bending down to look in at her. The distraction of his Old West looks, mountain-man cologne and cinnamon gum kept her from hearing what he said. She had to focus.

  “You did agree to sit with me tonight.”

  She smiled up at him. “I might have already told Wyatt Johnson that we’re helping each other out.”

  “Perfect. So that’s it, we’re an item now.”

  His easy statement shocked her.

  “No!” The word rushed out. “I’m not interested in being half of a couple.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to buy you a ring. But I will be here if you need me. I’ll help you out with that horse. I’ll mow your lawn. Whatever it is people are lining up to do for you, I’m your huckleberry. And if you want to fix me a roast for dinner, that’s even better.”

  “You think I cook now?”

  “Probably not.”

  That hurt. “Well, I do.”

  He winked. “Don’t get all upset, Princess, I’m teasing. I have to go, but you think about what I’ve said. I’ll be over tomorrow.”

  He leaned into the car and kissed her cheek, surprising her. “Dylan, don’t.”

  “Just a good-night kiss from a friend. Call if you need anything.”

  “I’ll add your number to the dozens I already have,” she called out to his retreating back.

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to save you from,” he tossed back as he climbed in his truck.

  Harmony started her car and headed for home, leaving Dylan in her dust. As she drove she thought about what he’d said, about saving her.

  For several years everyone had been trying to sa
ve her. They’d tried to save her before the accident—and after. They had tried to save her from the addiction. They’d tried to save her from herself. In Dawson, she’d been hoping to escape all of the people trying to save her.

  What Dylan offered was a way to escape people and their good intentions. He offered a way for her to reclaim her life. What he got in return was a way to fend off the local matchmakers. It seemed like the perfect plan, yet it left her unsettled. Dylan had always unsettled her. It was his easy charm and the way he had of being completely comfortable with his life.

  The flash of blue lights coming up behind her and then the wail of a siren stopped her from thinking too much about Dylan’s crazy idea. She pulled over and let the ambulance pass, then she got back onto the road.

  She would have gone on home but the ambulance turned up the gravel drive that led to Bill and Doris Tanner’s place. Harmony followed close behind. Her heart gave a painful thud as she watched the EMTs jump from the vehicle, meet Bill in the yard and then follow him into the house.

  Local volunteers were already on scene. A fire truck was parked close to the barn. Harmony stepped out of her car and watched as several men rushed out of the house for equipment. Another man led Bill outside. He saw her and shook his head.

  Harmony approached, unsure but knowing someone had to be there for Bill Tanner, a man who had already lost too much.

  “Mr. Tanner.” She touched his arm and his face crumpled, giving way to a few tears that streaked down his weathered face.

  “Doris had a stroke. I was fixing her a hot dog and she just wouldn’t move from the chair.”

  The volunteer moved Bill to the side as the paramedics pushed the stretcher through the front door and to the waiting ambulance. One of the men hurried to Bill’s side.

  “Bill, she’s responding. We’ll get her to Grove and then I think they might fly her to Tulsa.”

  “Bill, I’ll drive you,” Harmony said, taking hold of the older man’s arm. “Should we go on to Tulsa or wait?”

  “I’d wait. If they can keep her in Grove, I think they will.” The volunteer smiled at her. “That’s real nice of you, Miss Cross.”

  She nodded and old Bill Tanner gave her an odd look. “You don’t mind driving me? I think my old truck will make it, but I’m a mite shaky.”

  “I don’t mind. We’re neighbors and that’s what neighbors do.”

  They headed for her car and a truck pulled up, headlights catching them in twin beams of light. A tall figure stepped out, adjusted his cowboy hat and headed their way.

  “Dylan.” Harmony released a pent-up breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

  “What happened?” He looked from her to Bill.

  “Doris had a stroke. Miss Cross was nice enough to offer me a ride.” Bill’s voice was shaky.

  “Let me take you.” Dylan nodded toward his truck.

  “I can do this.” Harmony insisted, but she already knew that Bill would rather go with Dylan, someone he knew and felt comfortable with.

  “Miss Cross, it was nice enough of you to offer, but Dylan won’t mind being up all night, sitting in a waiting room with an old man like myself.”

  Harmony looked from Bill Tanner to Dylan. “Do you want to drop the kids off at my house?”

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you at your place.” Harmony nodded and watched him walk back to his truck with Bill. She stood for a moment in the yard that had been ablaze with lights from emergency vehicles. In the distance she heard the wail of the siren as the ambulance headed for Grove. The volunteers were pulling away from the house.

  She got in her car and pulled down the driveway, turning toward her house. She could see Dylan’s truck, already heading that way with Cash and Callie. This hadn’t been in her plans when she came to Dawson, getting so involved. There were good reasons for keeping to herself. But maybe the reasons to get involved were just as good.

  When she got to her place, Dylan was helping Callie and Cash out of the truck. Harmony reached for Callie’s hand and Dylan followed her inside with Cash.

  “You’ll be okay?” Dylan asked as he settled Cash on the couch and handed over a diaper bag.

  “We’ll be okay.” She glanced down at Callie, who didn’t offer her a smile. A smile would have given her a healthy dose of confidence that she really could have used.

  * * *

  Dylan pulled up to the Cross Ranch the next morning. His eyes felt like sandpaper was rubbing against them and a look in the mirror confirmed that he looked as rough as he felt. He parked his truck and sat there a minute. The front door of the old farm house opened and Harmony stepped out.

  She stood on the porch watching him, waiting. She would be wanting information on Doris Tanner. He opened the truck door and got out. He hoped she had a pot of coffee brewing, because he was going to need it if he planned on getting through this day.

  “How is she?” Harmony sat down on one of the rocking chairs. He took the other.

  “She’s going to make it. They were able to keep her in Grove. Bill is still at the hospital. Fifty-two years they’ve been married. He said the only time they’ve been apart is when he served in the military.”

  “That’s a lot of years of loving another person.”

  “Yeah, it is. Are the kids still sleeping?” He leaned back in the rocking chair to wait for her answer and he wished like anything he could fall asleep on that front porch with the morning breeze and the sound of cattle, probably from Cooper Creek, in the distance.

  “They are. I have coffee.”

  “I was hoping.” He sat forward in the chair planning to get up but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “Stay. I’ll bring you a cup.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  She smiled down at him and he had to admit, when she smiled, it lit up a man’s world. Not that he was interested, but it felt good to know that he wasn’t too far gone.

  She patted his hand and her smile teased. “If we’re going to have a truce and be allies, I think we might want to make it believable.”

  “That sounds like a plan, Harmony. I like the idea of us being allies.”

  “Purely platonic, right?”

  “Platonic. Yes, just friends. But having each other will hopefully mean a lot less people nosing in our business.”

  Her hand left his and she walked inside, the screen door banging softly behind her. He leaned back in the rocking chair and closed his eyes. From inside he could hear her singing along to the radio. He pulled his hat down over his eyes.

  When he woke up, the sun was full on his face and it was hot. He came awake slowly, remembering where he was and why his back hurt. It was Saturday morning and he was sitting in a wooden rocking chair on Harmony’s front porch because he’d been up all night.

  What had happened to that cup of coffee? He glanced at his watch and realized he’d been sleeping for a while. He started to push himself out of the chair but stopped when he heard laughter from inside. Callie said something in her high pitched, four-year-old voice. The sound of a guitar followed. Loud strumming and then soft. A moment later the strumming ended and turned into a song played by someone who had been taught by the best. Two voices, Callie’s and Harmony’s, sang a familiar country song.

  He pushed himself up, stretching to relieve the kinks in his back. When he walked through the front door Callie looked up, her smile growing wide. Cash was stretched out on the floor pushing a toy truck. Harmony stopped playing the guitar and set it to the side.

  “Don’t stop on my account.” He picked up the twelve-string acoustic and put it back in her hands.

  “I think we’re done.” Harmony leaned the guitar carefully against the table next to her. “Are you hungry?”

  “You babysit and cook breakfast?” He plopped down on the overstuffed sofa and wa
tched with a smile as her cheeks turned pink.

  “I’m multitalented.” She reached for the cane next to her. “And I can get you that cup of coffee now that you’re awake.”

  “I definitely need it. One hour of sleep is going to make for a long day.”

  He started to get up but Cash drove the truck over to his feet and made a siren sound. Or something that resembled a siren. Dylan moved from the couch to the floor and the little boy scooted next to him. He had a great smile, and his mom’s eyes. His blond hair would probably turn brown as he got older. For now he sucked his thumb and sometimes made it to the bathroom instead of wetting in his pants.

  Katrina had insisted they start potty training early. Because she’d known she would be gone. She’d known it would all fall on Dylan, but that he’d have family to help. She’d counted on that, on the Coopers being involved in the lives of her two children.

  She’d come from a crazy, mixed-up family herself and she had wanted something more for her kids. So she’d made him their guardian early on, before anyone could say she wasn’t in her right mind. No one as young as Kat should lose a battle with breast cancer, Dylan thought. If he could have fought the battle for her, he would have.

  Callie had found a toy truck with a horse trailer that included horses. She pushed it to his side and grinned up at him, but something was missing in that smile. She was a smart girl, his Callie. She always seemed to know when he was lost in memories. She got lost, too, sometimes. She had nightmares and sometimes cried and hit for no reason. Dylan’s mom, Angie Cooper, had recommended a psychologist who could help a child process grief.

  “Breakfast,” Harmony called from the kitchen. Dylan smiled down at the children. Callie pushed her truck away from him and brought back the television remote.

  “Do you want to watch cartoons?”

  The four-year-old nodded. Her blond hair matched her brother’s but Katrina had insisted it would stay blond. Dylan kind of doubted it. He channel surfed until Callie nodded her head at a show with ponies. After giving them each a hug, he walked through the dining room to the big country kitchen.