Lasso That Cowboy

by Lynde Lakes

  Amber crossed the living room into the foyer as Luke tiptoed in the front door and eased it closed. “Oh, I see you’re up,” he said, smiling. “Good.” He had a picnic basket in his hand. “Mom made us her famous bowl o’ red chili and a batch of corn biscuits.”

  He was alone and clear-eyed. Amber sighed in relief. “It smells wonderful.”

  “Let’s eat outside under the elm trees.”

  She followed him from the air-conditioned house into the evening heat. He flipped a switch, and a string of colored lanterns blinked on over a picnic table.

  “Pests aren’t too bad this time of the evening,” he said.

  “Where’s Mando?” she asked.

  Luke laughed. “You don’t like him much, do you?”

  “I plead the Fifth,” she said, not wanting to slam his friend anymore than she already had.

  “He’s gone to Stampede Junction with some of the single vaqueros.”

  Good. She hoped he didn’t hurry back. She helped Luke spread the red checkered cloth on the table and lay out the big bowls and the oversized spoons, enjoying the sense of unity from working together. “Your house is great,” she said. “Congrats to your decorator.”

  “Why thanks, ma’am. That’s me.” He beamed. “Did it all, designed it, built it, and decorated it.”

  “You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop her voice from rising in surprise. “A cowboy designer, decorator? I’m impressed.”

  He laughed. “You shouldn’t be. Ranchers who live miles from services learn to do things themselves. Or do without.”

  “Yeah, but you’re good at it all. That’s rare, my friend. Very rare.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Amber, I think I’m going to like having you around. You’ve salved my bruised ego and made me feel damned good. I needed that. Especially today.”

  “Glad to be of service,” she said. Maybe this job would work out after all. She liked being around him, too. He was much more of a man than she’d first thought. Strong, determined, capable. And gentle in the ways that counted.

  As Luke dipped steaming chili from a large-necked thermos into the bowls, he asked, “Of all the ways to travel to the Bar R, how come you came by truck?”

  That was a question she should ask herself. Besides the fact she didn’t have any friends to give her a ride, or money to buy a bus ticket, why had she immediately thought of a trucker? She’d felt perfectly natural asking Elmer for a ride, as though she’d done something like it before. Maybe she had a relative who was a trucker, or maybe she’d worked as a waitress in a truck stop. Or maybe she was a trucker. “Not conventional enough transportation for your image of a nanny?” she asked.

  “Hey, don’t be so touchy. No insult intended. Just trying to get to know you.”

  “Okay, then.” How long could she hold off his questions? Amber gestured toward the pasture land in the distance. “What kind of cattle do you raise?”

  He met her gaze. “Do you really care?”

  She didn’t, but darned if she wanted to admit it. “Is it some kind of cattleman’s secret?”

  He laughed. “Hardly. We raise a breed called the Santa Gertrudis—the best stock for this arid climate because they’re unaffected by heat and insects.”

  She frowned. Heat and insects. Boy, could she pick a place. “I saw quarter horses in the barn.”

  “We have all kinds of livestock, including bulls.”

  “Like Fernando, the gentle bull of my childhood?”

  “Like a bull named Mankiller.”

  A bloody image flashed in Amber’s mind. She rubbed her arms. Was she a mankiller? To push away the recurring and frightening worry, she asked a potentially touchy question that had been eating at her mind. “Do you mind telling me what happened to your wife?”

  Luke watched her with a silent intensity that made her squirm. The wind blew her hair about her face, and lashed her body with nerve-frazzling electricity.

  She cleared her throat. “I thought if I knew it might help me with Alicia. But if you’d rather not talk about it…”

  Seconds passed. She wished she hadn’t asked about his wife. She wouldn’t answer his questions, yet here she was asking him something so personal.

  Finally, he sighed and said, “It was a drunk driver. Horrible irony for an ex-drunk, right?” His hard-edged words were bitter, pained, as though it hurt a thousand times worse than if he’d cut off his arm.

  “Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too. What makes it worse is my guilt. I can’t count how many times I drove drunk and might have killed someone myself. Only by the grace of God…”

  Amber closed her eyes. His cold, hard honesty sent a chill skittering across her arms. She closed them across her breast, fighting the impact of his words. He’d been selfish and reckless in the past, but she believed his regret was sincere. Her sympathy for him worked against her own interests. But on the plus side, she was learning her own values in small pieces, as though putting together a complicated puzzle.

  “I guess I shocked you,” he said with incredible sadness.

  “We’ve all done things we wish we could erase.” The trouble was, she didn’t remember beyond a few days ago, didn’t know what sins she might have committed.

  “If I could take it all back,” Luke said, “I would. But since I can’t.”

  Luke’s pain went through Amber like a knife. He may never fully forgive himself for his past—may never find peace and pick up the shattered pieces of his life. It was a shame; he was too young to let his wild teenage years destroy his chance for happiness. Everything in her nature reached out to him, but her own troubles made it unwise to get emotionally involved.

  “Now it’s your turn,” he said. “Anything you’d like to confess?”

  He’d been open with her, and she ached to tell him the truth. That she was walking in a shadowy world with no memory of her past. “I’m afraid my life is too dull for confessions.”

  He grinned mischievously, looking overwhelmingly male. “Not even that you secretly resent one of your parents, or a sibling?”

  She had to tell him something. The simpler the better, she decided. It had to be a story she could remember and not goof up later. “My parents were great,” she said, forcing a lightness into her tone, “and I didn’t have any brothers or sisters. It’s boring, but not all of us can have deep, dark secrets.”

  “Parents were great—are they deceased?”

  It was awful not to know. “Yes,” she said softly.

  “How did it happen?”

  “Look,” she said, “this is too heavy a subject for dinner conversation. Tell me about Alicia.”

  “You and my brother have something in common,” Luke said. “You both know how to push my Daddy buttons.”

  Amber heard the disgust in his tone, and she wasn’t sure if it was aimed at her or himself. It didn’t matter—her diversionary tactic worked. He started talking about Alicia with a warmth that convinced Amber he was a terrific father.

  “The first time she called me Daddy,” he said, “it really got to me—thought my heart would stop.”

  Amber smiled. She was lucky to have Luke and his daughter in her life. In that moment, she decided to stay as long as she could. Elmer would have to make the return trip to San Antonio by himself. She wasn’t sure how to keep Luke’s questions at bay, but she would face them one day at a time—the way he faced his sobriety. She said a silent prayer that her memory would come back soon—she needed to know herself before she could let him, or anyone, into her real life. In the meantime, she had his trust. And although she had to hide things about herself to survive, she wouldn’t let him down.

  Chapter Three

  Amber stopped outside Alicia’s bedroom. It adjoined hers, and Luke had said she could go in if she wished. Perhaps she should have waited until Alicia offered to show it to her, but she’d hoped the room would tell her something about the child to make their first meeting go smoother.

  Regardless of h
er good intentions, she felt a small pang of guilt as she eased the door open, followed by a sense of wonder that took her breath away. The enormous bedroom-playroom was an enchanted garden brought indoors. The headboard and foot of the bed were white picket fencing—tops rounded and child-safe. Tossed casually at the head of the bed were two oversized pillows and two small, lacy ones. Nestled in their softness was a Barbie doll in gardening clothes.

  For a fleeting moment, a ghastly image popped in Amber’s mind of another Barbie doll, naked with the hair mussed and missing a leg. The image was such an appalling contrast to the doll on the bed that she didn’t try to hang onto it. Her unnerving phenomenon was followed by the odd sensation of being watched, like the walls had eyes. Good grief, her mind was really doing a number on her. How could she have such disagreeable thoughts in this marvelous fantasy land?

  Amber smoothed a wrinkle from the comforter designed with a scattering of pink roses and green vines. She gently touched a child-sized straw hat with a pink ribbon and a velvet bow that hung on the corner end of the bed. The room was perfect from the soft lilac walls to the white horizontal blinds that gently diffused the light beneath flowery valances. Nearby, a chest of drawers was painted green to match the spread and valances. Someone had put a lot of time and imagination into planning this room, someone for whom she felt an instinctive connection.

  Luke had said he’d designed the house. Had he designed this room, too? Could that be? Amber laughed softly. If so, he was certainly like no other cowboy she’d ever known—or ever heard of. Of course, she had to admit, with his less than perfect dark good looks, and the mystifying way he could hold her with a gaze she couldn’t escape, he was darned unique anyway.

  Amber jumped at the loud coo-coo from a little bird that popped out of the birdhouse-shaped clock on the wall. That’s what she got for daydreaming about her employer instead of keeping her mind on his child. The giant numerals on the clock would be perfect to teach Alicia to tell time, Amber mused, pushing Luke to the edges of her mind.

  One of the windows had a small wicker planter box with living strawberry plants. This was going to be easier than she had thought. The plants could be another teaching prop.

  Amber circled in wonder, trying to see everything at once. Ceramic bunny rabbits and frogs peeked from behind furniture, and mobile butterflies hung from the ceiling. She flicked the switch and the white ceiling fan painted with daisies rotated slowly, its hidden music box playing Farmer In The Dell. She chuckled. How delightful.

  A narrow, floor-to-ceiling bookcase filled with children’s books divided two window seats. She ran her fingers over the bindings. There were all the old favorites from Little Red Riding Hood to Hansel and Gretel, and some titles new to her like Where The Red Fern Grows.

  She gave the adult-sized white wicker rocking chair a push, setting it in motion. A ridiculous stab of envy shot through Amber. Had she ever had a room as wonderful as this? She doubted many little girls had. For that matter, had she ever had a room of her own of any kind?

  Amber hoped the image of the naked and mangled Barbie wasn’t a clue to her childhood. She rubbed her head. Whatever her life had been, she was ready to face it. Dear God, give me a clue to my past.

  Her legs felt a little wobbly. She sank down into the rocker and scanned the rest of the room. Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls dressed in farm clothes occupied two child-sized upholstered chairs. There was a low wooden play table with games and puzzles laid out. Dolls and stuffed toys were everywhere: an elephant, zebra, lion, tiger, lambs, bears, even a camel.

  Alicia had no mother, but she certainly had lots of toys. Had Luke bought these to replace what could never be replaced? Amber wondered if her own mother and father were living. Did she have siblings, or was she an only child like Alicia? Amber rose and ambled to a nearby slate board. She picked up a piece of chalk and scribbled her first name and a question mark. Amber, because she’d been wearing a gold bracelet with Amber on it when she’d regained consciousness. The question mark belonged to Smith, a name she’d plucked from the air.

  She erased the board in two swipes and forced her mind back to the room. It told her as much about Luke as his daughter. He’d spared no expense in decor or toys. The overindulgence of the little girl with a dream room made Amber wonder if he’d provided all these things to make up for his emotional absence. Or was it to make up for losing her mother? Besides wondering about his motivation, she’d gotten a couple of unnerving glimpses into her own fears. Still, a few misgivings wouldn’t stop her from digging out the truth, whatever it was. One thing was sure, she’d have to proceed with care to protect herself from jail—or an unknown killer.

  ****

  Amber paced the living room, her insides churning like a thrashing machine. Alicia would be here any minute. Would the child like her? Amber rubbed her arms. Did she have any experience with children? Would she know what to do in an emergency?

  For the fourth time, she thought she heard Luke’s truck engine and raced to the front window, only to be disappointed. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the foyer—it was a quarter to twelve, and Luke had promised to return before noon.

  A truck thundered up the road again. She tensed. Then forced herself to count to ten before looking again, hoping this time he’d be there.

  Luke climbed from the truck, lifted Alicia out after him, and hoisted her onto his wide shoulders. The child was small for three years old and had delicate features. Her thick, blonde Shirley Temple ringlets bounced about as she threw her head back and laughed in delight as Luke galloped up the stone walkway. Luke bent his knees and crouched low as they came through the entry doorway, leaving sufficient inches above the child’s head.

  “Amber,” he said in a booming voice. “Meet Alicia.” He bent and dumped the child on the couch. When she scampered to her feet, he grabbed her by the hands and danced her across the cushions.

  After seeing the child’s room and her bud-like lips, Amber thought Rosebud would be a better name to go with the garden theme.

  “Hi, Alicia,” Amber said past the constriction in her throat. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Luke released the child, and she jumped to the floor and stuck out a tiny hand. “Pleased to meet you,” Alicia mimicked, flashing deep dimples.

  Surprised at the child’s remarkable manners, Amber met Luke’s gaze. His eyes were earth brown, velvety, and warm as melted chocolate.

  “We’ve been practicing,” he said, grinning with pride.

  Amber squatted down and shook the baby-soft, chubby little hand. She wanted to hug the child but feared it might frighten her. “I didn’t expect such a big, grown up girl,” she said.

  “I’m not too big for cookies.” Alicia’s spunky little voice touched Amber to her soul.

  Amber laughed. Luke must have bribed Alicia with cookies. “Well, that works out perfectly. I just finished taking a sheet of peanut butter cookies out of the oven for your homecoming.” She braved taking the child’s hand, and when Alicia looked up at her with such trust, she could barely breathe.

  “You ladies get acquainted,” Luke said. “I’ll be back in an hour or two. I have to meet with the vet.” He blew Alicia a kiss. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you a ride on Sleepy when I get back. One of the old mares,” he told Amber.

  Her mouth went dry. “Wouldn’t you like some lunch or cookies first?” Don’t leave me alone so soon.

  Luke winked. “You’ll do fine,” he said, and headed out the door.

  She hoped so. The importance of the job hit her; she was here to mold, shape, and influence this wonderful child’s life. She hadn’t thought about that until now. She’d only worried about herself and escaping the trouble she’d left behind in San Antonio. An image of the man lying dead on the floor in a pool of blood, along with the ridiculous sensation of being watched, sent a shiver down her back.

  ****

  It was past midnight. Everyone was in bed when Luke retreated to the library to watch the video tapes of A
mber and his daughter. In his heart, he knew nothing negative would show up, but to appease Matt he’d agreed to review the film right away. He started with the video from the kitchen camera and was immediately torn between guilt and fascination.

  Amber transferred cookies from the cookie sheet to a paper towel with a spatula, all the while talking to Alicia, drawing her out and responding to her answers with laughter. Amber eyes glowed and the sense of wonder in her voice convinced Luke that she was enjoying herself as much as Alicia was. Luke scooted his chair closer to the screen, captivated by Amber’s animated expressions and the gentleness in her voice.

  Suddenly, Alicia bounded out of the chair and was back in seconds with her Barbie doll and a stack of Pokemon cards. She handed the doll to Amber. Amber straightened the doll’s straw hat with long, graceful fingers. “I saw a book about gardening in your bookcase.”

  Alicia clapped her hands in delight. “Daddy just bought it for me.”

  Amber beamed. “Let’s read it. I’ll help you learn to read the words so we can act out parts of the story together like actors do on the stage.”

  Alicia nodded enthusiastically but looked a little puzzled.

  “After we learn our parts we could act them out for your daddy.”

  “He’s pretty busy.”

  Luke winced at the sadness that had crept into his daughter’s voice. Amber gave her a little hug and said, “Well, we’ll work it out. What else do you like to do?”

  “Best is when my daddy rides horses with me. But he hardly ever has the time.”

  Alicia had said he was busy twice. Damn. What a lunkhead I am. He’d been selfish, driving himself hard all day to block his own pain. Forgetting hers.

  “Sometimes daddies have to work a lot to take care of their little girls,” Amber said.