True Love Cowboy

by Jennifer Ryan

  “I tried to make the O noodles. I got the can open. It cut my finger. It really hurts.”

  That worried him. “Is it a bad cut?” His stomach tied into a knot.

  “Kinda.” Her voice wobbled.

  “Okay. I’m sure Mommy has a bandage for it.”

  “I can get one in the bathroom, but . . .”

  His stomach dropped. “But what?”

  “I put the can in the microwave.” She paused.

  He held his breath, knowing where this was going.

  “It made lots of sparks and blew up.” She softly cried.

  Shit. “Did the microwave burst open or anything?” He prayed she hadn’t been hit by shrapnel.

  “No. But it’s very messy inside and the glass cracked. Mommy is going to be really mad.” She cried a little harder. “Are you m-mad?”

  He expected to hear Steph bitching in the background like she always did when Emmy did something she didn’t like. But he didn’t hear a single complaint or snide comment. “Wait. Where is your mom?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  That raised another alarm and awakened his usual ire when it came to Steph taking care of his daughter. “Is she home?”

  Emmy hiccuped. “No. She left with the man while I was watching TV.”

  What the . . .

  “I got hungry. Can Trinity bring some sp-spaghetti?”

  Since the can of pasta rings with meatballs exploded, he got why she’d want an upgrade. She should be eating better.

  “Do you have any idea where your mom is?” He jumped into his car, started it, and tore out of the driveway. He could not believe Steph would leave Emmy alone.

  “Sometimes she goes to her friend’s.”

  He wondered if the friend was the same guy he found in her bed on Saturday. “Does that person live close?”

  “At one of the other doors.”

  So in the same complex. At least Steph was close by, not that it made leaving their four-year-old any better. He should call the cops. But that opened a whole can of worms he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with. And he hoped Steph returned soon and explained, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse for her to leave their child alone.

  She could have been gone two minutes or two hours for all he knew.

  “I don’t know which door she went to.” Emmy sounded scared now.

  “How many times has she left you alone this week?”

  “I put myself to bed last night. I made sure to brush my teeth.” She sounded very proud of herself, but he fumed. He wondered how scary it was for Emmy to be alone, in the dark, sleeping in a new place.

  “Good girl. Listen, I’m on my way, but I’m going to text my friend Trinity and see if she can get to you right away so you won’t be alone.”

  “I like her. Can she bring me something to eat? And a brownie?”

  “Sure, baby. Stay on the phone with me.” He didn’t normally text and drive, but he was alone on the road and this was an emergency and he used the microphone to dictate his text.

  JON: Trinity 911 Emmy is home alone can you please go to 1245 Harmony Lane apt 112 and stay with her I’m on my way

  Jon rolled his eyes at the irony of the street name.

  JON: please check cut on her finger

  JON: she’s hungry dinner and brownie if you can

  “Daddy?”

  “I’m still here, baby. I just sent a text to Trinity.”

  “Okay. I’m waiting.”

  He tried to distract her. “What are you watching on TV?”

  She told him about the animal cartoon she was watching. He barely listened, instead reading the return text from Trinity.

  TRINITY: Dinner brownie be there in less than ten

  TRINITY: Don’t worry I’ll take care of her until you arrive

  He breathed a huge sigh of relief. She’d be safe with Trinity.

  Emmy must have gotten lost in her show.

  “Hey, Emmy, how was school today?”

  “Good. Teacher asked some friends to share lunch with me.”

  “Why?” He knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from her.

  “Mommy forgot to pack lunch and my packet.”

  So she didn’t have food or her homework. He fumed and forced himself to stop strangling the steering wheel.

  Emmy sighed big and her hiccups disappeared. “Daddy, how come I can’t stay with you?”

  “I would like that very much, sweetheart, but your mom wants to be with you, too.”

  “That’s not true,” she whispered. “I’m always in the way.”

  Stupid legal system. Since he and Steph had joint custody, his lawyer told him they’d give Steph every opportunity to hold up her end. He could file for full custody, but that meant building a case against her and getting the Department of Public Health and Human Services involved. So far, nothing Steph had done until now really warranted it. His lawyer advised him that Steph not doing things the way Jon wanted wasn’t enough to get DPHHS involved. Steph met Emmy’s basic needs, even if she did the bare minimum.

  But this. This crossed the line.

  Still, he tried to console Emmy. “Mom just gets frustrated sometimes.”

  “All the time.” Emmy let out another too-big-for-her sigh.

  He thought about her question for the rest of the drive, about staying with him and how she must feel that he didn’t do what she wanted and keep her full-time. She didn’t understand that legally he couldn’t just take her from her mom. And that even if she felt like Steph didn’t want her, Steph would fight him to keep her. It ate away at him for every mile and minute it took to get to her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trinity knocked on the door of apartment one-twelve and held her breath, hoping Emmy opened up and was okay.

  “Trinity,” she called through the door.

  “It’s me. I have yummy stuff for you.” She hoped that eased Emmy’s mind about opening the door.

  It flew open and Emmy launched herself into Trinity’s legs and held on tight. Trinity rubbed her hand up and down Emmy’s back. “There now. I’m here. You’re okay.”

  Emmy looked up at her. “I’m hungry.”

  “You, my little friend, are always hungry.” She tapped Emmy on the nose, hoping to tease her back into a good mood.

  Emmy unhooked her arms from Trinity’s legs and held the phone to her ear. “She’s here.” Then she handed it to her. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Trinity took the phone and nudged Emmy to go back inside. “I’ve got her.”

  “Thank you.” The gratitude and relief in Jon’s voice broke her heart. “I’m about ten minutes out myself.”

  “No problem. I’ll feed her, put a bandage on her finger, and brush out her hair.”

  Emmy looked nearly as bad as she had last week when they met.

  “Is she okay?”

  As good as can be expected when she stayed with her mom, Trinity thought uncharitably, but it seemed correct. “She appears to be, but you’ll see for yourself when you get here.”

  “Is the place a wreck?”

  Trinity glanced at the stack of dishes in the sink, the dirty pans on the stove, the empty food containers overflowing the garbage can. The floor needed to be mopped and the carpet vacuumed. The whole place smelled like cat piss.

  “Your silence speaks volumes.”

  Trinity simply said, “It could be worse.” If it was, she’d seriously reconsider stepping foot in the place.

  She set the bag of food she’d brought on the only space available on the dining table. She put the phone on speaker, set it down, and stacked the mail that had been strewn across the table’s surface. Her nose wrinkled at the dirty dishes, but she piled those up, stacking them atop the ones cluttering the counter by the already-full sink.

  “Emmy, where are the forks?”

  She pulled open a drawer that had two spoons and one clean fork left.

  “Take a seat at the table.” Trinity pulled out the hot container of pasta.


  “That’s not spaghetti.”

  “Sorry. This is the only pasta we had. It’s called Alfredo. It has chicken in it.”

  “What’s the green?”

  “Spinach.”

  “Just try it,” Jon coaxed over the phone.

  Emmy pulled a noodle out, held it up, and slowly lowered it into her mouth. Once the creamy sauce hit her tongue, she smiled. “Yum.”

  “You eat that. I’m going to find you a bandage and your hairbrush.”

  “Bathroom,” Emmy said around a big bite of chicken and spinach. “This is good.”

  “I’m glad you like it. If you eat half, you can have your brownie.” She’d brought a large portion just in case once again Emmy hadn’t eaten in a while.

  Trinity found the bandages, hairbrush, and a band. She checked out Emmy’s room across from the bathroom. Toys and stuffed animals littered the floor. Her bed wasn’t made. Two cats slept side by side, nested in a wadded-up blanket on the end of her bed.

  “Go away, Puff!” Emmy banged on the table.

  Trinity rushed down the hall and pushed the cat who was trying to eat Emmy’s dinner off the table. “Shoo.”

  “Do the cats have food?” Jon asked.

  She looked around, spotted the empty bowls on the floor, and picked up the largest to fill with water. “No.”

  “Check the pantry cupboard,” he called out, his voice growing more irritated with every sentence.

  She found the food, filled the bowls as all three cats twined around her legs while she tried to do it, and they jockeyed for position at each bowl she filled.

  Steph either didn’t care or simply couldn’t handle taking care of her home, pets, or daughter. Sad. But also, what the fuck? How hard was it to use the dishwasher, toss the trash, and run the vacuum once in a while?

  She left the messes alone, wet a paper towel, and went to Emmy and gently wiped the cut on her finger clean, covered it with the bandage, then started working the tangles out of her hair. “So, what do you think of spinach?”

  Emmy shrugged. “It tastes like the sauce.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Trinity calmly ran the brush through Emmy’s hair and barely spared a glance for the lanky dirty blonde, who looked anything but friendly. The deep frown and narrowed bloodshot gaze only made her look haggard, but she had the curves men loved and legs for days. “You must be Steph. Emmy’s mom.”

  “You must be the one Jon’s sleeping with,” she shot back, her words slow and slurred.

  “Tone it down, Steph.” Jon’s voice had gone cold and flat.

  Steph stared at the phone on the table. “What is she doing in my house?”

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Out,” she snapped. “What the hell are you feeding my kid? She hates vegetables.”

  Trinity lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “She likes spinach.”

  Emmy slurped up another long noodle, then popped a spinach-draped piece of chicken into her mouth to go with it.

  Trinity started braiding Emmy’s hair down the back of her head.

  “Who let you in?”

  Trinity raised a brow at that stupid question.

  Jon took over. “Emmy called me because you left her alone. You’re lucky she didn’t set the house on fire when she put a can in the microwave and blew it up.”

  Steph rushed to Emmy, grabbed her arm, and shook it. “What did you do? I told you to eat the cereal I left out.”

  Trinity took a step closer to Steph. “Let her go. Now.”

  Jon walked in with his phone in hand, tapped it to end the call they’d been on all this time, and stared at them facing off. “Steph,” he said in warning.

  She released Emmy but not without some force.

  Emmy frowned, her eyes glassed over, and she rubbed her sore arm.

  Trinity stepped back, took the end of the braid she’d finished, pulled it tight because it had come loose when she let go, and wrapped the band around it.

  Emmy sat staring at her half-empty container of food.

  Trinity went to her side and touched her chin to get her to look up. “Finished?”

  She nodded.

  “Let’s go see if the stars have come out yet while you work on that big, fat brownie.”

  Trinity picked up Emmy, who held her plastic-wrapped brownie against her chest.

  Steph stood her ground in front of them. “You’re not going anywhere with my daughter.”

  Jon had enough. “Let them pass. You and I need to talk.”

  Steph spun around to confront him. “This is my night. You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Someone needs to be here! She’s four. You can’t just leave her alone in the apartment with a box of cereal.” He couldn’t believe she’d set the box and jug of milk on the coffee table and walked out the door. No bowl. No spoon. Did she expect Emmy to pour the milk in the box and then dump the cereal into her mouth?

  And how dare she grab Emmy like she did?

  How often did she lose her temper when she was drunk and do something like that, or worse?

  He didn’t need to hear her slurred speech to know she’d been drinking. He could smell the booze, cigarettes, and pot on her.

  He didn’t think he’d ever been this angry.

  “She was fine. I wasn’t gone that long.”

  “You left her alone! Whether it was two minutes or two hours doesn’t matter. You should not have left her at all.”

  “She was watching TV. I was only a couple apartments away. She could have come to get me if she needed something.”

  “She’s four. She didn’t know where you were. How is she supposed to remember which apartment you went to? They all look alike. In a matter of minutes, she cut herself and could have burned this place down.”

  Steph rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. She broke the microwave. Big deal.”

  “It’s a huge deal!” His voice boomed through the apartment. “What if she’d turned on the stove and burned herself? What if that can had done more damage and she got caught in the blast? What if you’d taken your phone with you and she couldn’t call me for help?”

  “Yeah, well, I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Shock stopped his heart for a second. “Seriously. That’s what you have to say? You won’t leave her a means to get help when you abandon her.”

  Steph’s arms went rigid at her sides and she leaned in. “I did not abandon her. I went to see a friend.”

  “And got drunk off your ass. Mother of the Year, Steph.”

  The snide remark made her eyes blaze with anger. “You think your little blond friend is so great.”

  “She’s a thousand times better than you!” He didn’t often yell, but she pushed all his buttons tonight.

  The hurt in Steph’s eyes turned to fury. “Then get the fuck out and go be with her. Leave me and Emmy the hell alone.”

  “Oh, I’m leaving. And I’m taking Emmy with me.”

  “You can’t do that. It’s my night.”

  “What are you going to do about it? Call the cops? Go for it. I can’t wait to hear you explain the pot smell coming off you and why you left Emmy alone in this mess.”

  “Fuck you. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Even when you’re sober you can barely take care of her properly.”

  “Yes, I can.” Steph raked her trembling fingers through her own disheveled hair.

  “Really? So Emmy didn’t go to school today without her homework packet and lunch?”

  She held her arms out wide. “We were running late. I overslept.” Her hands fell and slapped her thighs.

  “Because you were hung over?”

  The suggestion made her eyes narrow with rage. “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know I’m not leaving Emmy with you tonight.”

  Steph grabbed a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit up. “And what about your date with little miss perfect?” She blew a stream of smoke right in h
is face.

  He stepped back before he gave in to the urge to do or say something he’d really regret. “She knows Emmy comes first. She’ll understand.”

  “What a saint.” Steph sneered at him. She had no right to be jealous, but that never stopped her from acting out whenever he had someone in his life.

  He tried, again, to push her to do the right thing. “You swore things would be different here.”

  “You can make new friends, but I can’t?”

  “You can’t choose them over our daughter.”

  “I didn’t. I wasn’t gone that long.” She really didn’t get it. She didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. “If she hadn’t called you, none of this would be happening.”

  “So this is her fault and you’re upset that you got caught?”

  “I’m pissed that you and that bitch showed up at my house. You think you can make all the rules and I just have to go along.”

  “We have an agreement. If you can’t hold up your end, then I will do whatever I have to do to protect my daughter and keep her safe.”

  Steph pointed her finger at her chest. “From me? I’m her mother.”

  “Then act like it!” He glanced past her at the wreck of a kitchen and living room. “What happened to this place?” She’d worked hard to clean and organize the apartment. It hadn’t lasted long.

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s been a busy week. I’ll clean it up this weekend.”

  “You better. Because Emmy’s not coming back here if you don’t.”

  Her whole body went rigid. “You can’t do that.”

  “I will.” He didn’t care what the agreement they signed said. If she wanted to take him to court, she’d have to explain to a judge why he refused to comply. “Clean up your act, Steph. I’m losing patience. I’ve given you enough chances to get this right.” He went to the entry and found Emmy’s backpack and checked to make sure everything she needed for school was inside.

  Steph held the chairback in a death grip. “You can’t take her from me.” The alcohol-fueled bravado fell flat with him.

  He went to the table and rummaged through the pile of mail and found Emmy’s packet. He stuffed it into the bag and turned to Steph. “Don’t make me take her away from you.”