Roping the Daddy: A Contemporary Western Romance (Kester Ranch Cowboys Book 3)

by Tori Kayson

  “Thanks for letting me know about Winsome,” Fargo said, taking off his hat and running a hand through his sweat dampened hair.

  Winsome? Hawk scratched his jaw, fatigue and worry clouding his head, confusion over the scene with Kierra spearing his heart. Clenching his gut.

  “The magazine editor.” Fargo plopped the hat back on his head.

  Words faded on his parched tongue. He could only nod.

  “Kierra had already scared him off by the time I showed up. Did a fine job judging by the dude’s raised hands.” Fargo chuckled, pride lightening his face. “He’s gone. Left with the blonde. Just thought you might want to know that.”

  That was good news. On that end, anyway. Relief exhaled in a giant wave, almost buckled his knees. But what would he find at Brigit’s place? An empty house?

  “Can we expect you back for work tomorrow?” Fargo studied him from under the brim of his hat.

  A lump of indecision and fear caterpillared down Hawk’s throat. The moment of truth. Could he commit to staying in one place if his son wasn’t there?

  “We know a good family practice attorney. My brother used him to adopt his son.” Fargo held out a card. “He also specializes in father’s rights.”

  Hawk took the business card, stared at the name emblazoned in cursive letters. Right below the name, comforting words fluttered in to give him hope.

  Specializing in giving a father his life back.

  Was this the break he needed? A good attorney and a boss who believed in him?

  He met Fargo’s steady gaze. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you think it’s too late to get a morning appointment?” He tucked the card in his pocket.

  “Already arranged. Nine o’clock.”

  Wonder exploded like sparklers in his gut, but quickly tamped with the knowledge that it might already be too late. Still, hope bloomed. “How’d you manage that?”

  “Got my mother to dig up the card. She called for the appointment this morning.”

  This morning. When Fargo had seen his bloodshot eyes and the trembling of his hand as he guzzled coffee. When he’d questioned him, and Hawk had ripped open his soul.

  He nodded his appreciation, not trusting his voice to speak.

  “I take care of my employees.” Fargo lifted his chin, his green eyes flinting gold sparks of challenge. “Now you take care of my sister.”

  The man did more than take care of his employees. He also provided for and protected his family.

  Hawk wanted to be that kind of man. He flicked his head once. Message received. “I should be here by afternoon.”

  Fargo nodded. “See you tomorrow then. I hope you hear good news at the attorney’s office. But even more than that, I hope your son’s still in Coldwater Ridge.”

  “Thanks. Me too.”

  Fargo headed toward his house, the dogs trotting ahead then rounding from the rear. Soon, the dogs and man disappeared inside.

  Hawk flicked his head toward the main house. Rain had swept through the air a few hours earlier, and diamond-like sparkles glistened off the ruby colored roses lining the front porch. Would Mrs. Kester mind if he snapped off one or two?

  The screen door squeaked open and then slapped closed. Kierra’s younger brother bounded down the steps two at a time. “Hey, Hawk. Thought you’d left already.”

  “Not yet. I’m heading out in a couple minutes. Slade, do you think your mother would mind if I picked a couple of her roses?”

  “Nah. She picks them herself. Says what good are they if you can’t enjoy them everywhere, so go ahead.” He clomped back up on the porch and reached into a pail. Came out with a pair of gardening shears. “But, here, use these.”

  He accepted the tool. “Thanks. I’ll put it back when I’m done.”

  “Sure. See you tomorrow.” Slade headed toward the barn, tugging on gloves.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Hawk reaffirmed his commitment. Son or no son, he’d be here.

  Dread slithered into his gut, and he forced his pulse to shift back into low gear. He couldn’t stop Brigit from leaving nor do anything tonight if she had already left. His best shot, his only viable option, was to stick to the original plan and talk to the attorney tomorrow.

  And make amends with a certain female. Let her know he cared. A lot.

  That settled, he snipped off a few blooms and bunched them in his hand. Then he set the shears back in the pail, mashed the doorbell and waited.

  Footsteps clattered against the wood floor before the door swung open.

  Mrs. Kester wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Flour dotted her smooth cheeks.

  Why hadn’t he thought to pick some flowers for the lady of the house? After all, they were hers. He shifted on his feet and removed his hat, staring at his fist. Could he separate the bunch and give her some?

  Rebekah saved him from further embarrassment. “Hawk! So glad to see you guys made it back safely.” Kierra’s mother slapped the dishtowel over a shoulder and grabbed him by the forearm. “Judging by that beautiful bouquet in your hand, you must be here to see Kierra. Come in.”

  As if he had any choice when she dragged him through the doorway. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and warm apples wafted his way, overpowering the rose petals in front of his nose. Apple pies in the oven? He took a subtle, appreciative sniff.

  Smelled like a home should. Full of comfort and welcome.

  “Kierra told me about her ankle sprain. I would never have known if she hadn’t said something. The swelling appears to be all gone now. Thank you for taking such good care of her. It couldn’t have been easy. She’s not a good patient.” Rebekah smiled.

  “She wasn’t so bad.”

  “Really? Her brother told a different story.”

  He laughed. “It was my pleasure, ma’am.” To enjoy Kierra’s company in the heli for two days? Bliss.

  “Come on back. We’re in the kitchen. If you don’t mind, I’ll let you taste a piece of apple pie for me and let me know if it’s good enough for the BBQ competition in a couple weeks. It’s a new recipe, and I don’t trust my kids to be honest. They all swear it’s the best I’ve ever made.” She shook her head, love shining from her eyes.

  Apple pie? Score! “You might be able to twist my arm.”

  But there was no arm twisting involved. He followed her into the kitchen like an excited puppy at chow time.

  A mess of flour and dough cutouts claimed most of the real estate on the granite counter. Kierra perched on a bar stool, a glass of iced tea in her hand and a piece of said pie on a plate in front of her. When her gaze landed on him, she coughed, practically spewed tea across the room before covering her mouth with a hand.

  “Ignore the mess.” Mrs. Kester brandished an arm through the air. “Kierra, Hawk’s here.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Mom.” Kierra recovered well. If one counted swiping an arm across her mouth and frowning at her attire.

  He tracked her glare. A white tank showed off golden shoulders, and her crossed legs and short shorts left a lot of smooth leg to admire. Nice shape, definitely toned, athletic yet totally feminine.

  When his gaze finally made it to the bare foot with freshly painted red toenails dangling through the air, he sucked in a breath and gulped at the same time, coughing on the flowers and fruit that filled his lungs. His pulse was taking a beating today. Today? Shoot, who was he kidding? His pulse hadn’t blipped a normal rate since he’d laid eyes on her again. Man, the woman could sure crank up the heat!

  Hold it together, Rowe! He dipped his head, hiding the desire surely pooling in his eyes. Willing his lungs not to give him away.

  Why are you here and not tracking down your son? Oh, right. The flowers. He shuffled his boots, looked her way, held out the bunch. Would she appreciate that they came from his heart and not his wallet? “For you.”

  “Oh! They’re beautiful!” She hopped off the stool and pattered over on bare feet. On tiptoes, she planted a quick, chaste kiss o
n his cheek. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She opened a cabinet door and peered up, the top shelf much taller than her reach.

  “Here. Let me get it.” He was behind her in two steps, leaning over her shoulder. The clean fruity fragrance lingering in her hair tickled his nose. The feel of her back pressed against his chest tugged at his restraints. If not for her mother’s presence, he might’ve seized the opportunity for another kiss.

  He retrieved the vase and handed it to her then retreated to the far side of the counter. Scrounging up his self-discipline under the wide open Texas sky had been challenging enough. Downright impossible in the confines of the spacious kitchen.

  “Thanks.” She smiled and twisted the faucet. Water filled the vase.

  “Here you go, Hawk. Tell me what you think.” A plate appeared on the counter, along with a plate covered in aluminum foil, and Mrs. Kester’s anxious expression settled on him.

  He took a bite. Closed his eyes when the flakey dough, warm apples and spices jazzed up his taste buds. “Mmmm.” He speared the elder Kester woman with a look of pure enjoyment, swallowed. “You have no worries. You’ll beat everybody. Hands down.”

  “Oh, shoo!” Mrs. Kester flicked his arm with a playful swat of the dish rag, her expression light and joking. “You’re as bad as my kids.” She chuckled.

  “Told you, Mom.” Kierra set the vase in the center of the kitchen table and arranged the roses.

  “Well, thanks for making this old woman feel better. Hawk, that piece is for Cody. And I will ask him about it next time I see him, so don’t you devour it on your way into town.”

  He sucked in a breath at the mention of his son’s name. Pray that it be so, that the generous and gracious woman would have a chance to see his son again to ask. First, Fargo arranged the appointment with the attorney and now this kindness? A sliver of peace fluttered into his gut. “That’s mighty nice of you, Rebekah. I’ll try to refrain, but I’m not making any promises.” On the pie. He refused to consider any other option regarding his son.

  Earned him another chuckle. “You’re a devil, you. I’d love to stay and chat, but I just remembered Slade asked me to help him with something in the barn. So, if you’ll excuse me.” She waved a hand through the air behind her as she disappeared from the room.

  “Likely excuse,” he said, jabbing at the pie with his fork. Anything to keep his mouth and hands busy, to keep from touching the beautiful woman who’d slid back onto the stool next to him at the counter.

  Kierra toyed with her glass of iced tea, her fingertips making marks in the condensation. “Yeah. Thanks for making her feel good about the pie.”

  “Couldn’t do otherwise. This is fantastic. If I baked, I’d ask her for the recipe.”

  “What? Our chopper cowboy slash EMT slash cook doesn’t bake too?” She gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder.

  “Watch it, woman.”

  She tilted her head and studied him, a seductive glint shimmering from those espresso warm eyes. A smidgen of gooey apple lingered at the corner of her curved lips. “Or—”

  Surprise lifted his eyebrow. He stared at that spot on her lips, battling the urge to take her up on her invitation and whisk her away to some place private. Secluded, where it was just the two of them, and he could kiss her until she begged for more, until the past no longer mattered. Taste, explore, share, until the afternoon blended into night, and the sunrays and birdsong woke them, side by side, their bodies twined and tangled, and then they’d do it all over again.

  But it wasn’t just the two of them. And it never would be.

  Because of him.

  Restraint won the war. He settled for grazing his thumb across the spot, steeling himself when her dark lashes fluttered closed over smooth cheeks.

  When he couldn’t take it anymore, he shoved away from the bar. “I have to go.” He stalked to the sink and rinsed the plate under the cold water.

  What kind of dad was he for thinking these thoughts when his son might be in a car loaded with his meager belongings, headed to who-knows-where.

  Crumbs swirled at the bottom of the sink, circling the drain until finally disappearing. Wasn’t that all he had to offer her right now? Scraps. Crumbs.

  The hefty sigh practically suffocated him. He couldn’t start anything. Couldn’t pursue the woman he should’ve married way back. Not when his life was such a fragmented mess.

  “Hey. It’s going to be all right.” Her hand pressed against his shoulder. Her face peered around the other. Concern replaced the saucy expression from a minute ago.

  Hawk turned off the spigot and set the plate in the sink. Turned around, shifting out of her touch by planting his rump against the counter and crossing his arms. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I won’t know that until I see him. And even then, it’s always iffy.”

  She nodded, her jaw stiffening. As if she understood what he didn’t say.

  “Kierra, I can’t—”

  “I know.” Moisture rimmed her lashes, and her lips quivered. Her face crumpled, but she turned to the side, hiding it from him.

  The clock on the wall behind his head hammered out the seconds, the noise almost deafening compared to the silence in the room. Then, a sniffle.

  A man could only take so much, and he’d hit his limit.

  Take it easy, Rowe. Nice and easy.

  “Hey.” Ignoring the warning bells chiming in his head, he clamped the waistband of her shorts and tugged her hips closer. “I’ll be back.”

  “You will?” Hope brightened her expression.

  He loved that he could do that to her. But he also hated it. What if he couldn’t follow through on his word? What if he ended up leaving again?

  He couldn’t deal with that right now. Not when he’d just put that happy glow back on her face. And especially not when her palms splayed across his chest.

  “Your brother arranged for me to consult with an attorney tomorrow morning.”

  Her forehead lifted. Hope sparkled from her eyes. “He did?”

  “Yeah. Had your mother call and set it up before we got back. I kinda think that means he wants to keep me around. What do you think?”

  Her palms blazed a trail of fire up his chest and then curled around his nape. A shy smile graced her lips. “I kinda want to keep you around myself.”

  “You do?” His fingers found the hollow of her back, massaged the tight muscles.

  With eyes closed, she arched like a satisfied cat. “Oh, yeah. Anything for that.”

  He leaned in, nibbled at a bare spot on her shoulder then another on her neck. His fingertips chased, massaging every spot he kissed. “What about that?”

  She responded with a tiny moan and bent her neck, giving him full access to the creamy skin.

  Smiling, he continued grazing from her neck to the sensitive spot behind her ear. Threaded fingers through her hair, cradled her nape. When his name ripped from her lips along with another moan, he dragged her hips closer. His mouth poised over hers to take possession more fully, his body urging him to possess her more fully.

  The oven timer buzzed, startling him into awareness. Blinking, he scolded his rebellious body parts. Back it on down, Rowe! What are you thinking?

  He stilled. Savored her apple scented breath that fanned his lips, the soft hands that curled around his lower back, the pleasure of just being with her. Deep breaths gave his body a chance to comply with his brain.

  When he was back in control, he kissed her. Sweet and gentle, no promises, but no regrets.

  That was something he could live with.

  12

  Hawk shut off the truck and settled back against the seat. He swapped the truck keys for the house key and soaked in the silence, allowing the stress to roll off his shoulders, this moment to sink in.

  Their first house. So what if they were only renting. This was their first house together.

  “Aren’t we going in, Dad?” Cody’s head whipped from the vacant ho
use to Hawk, excitement bright on the kid’s face, his slender fingers curled around the door handle.

  Silence was overrated. “Yeah. Just give me a second, okay?”

  They’d driven straight here from Brigit’s place with no chance for Hawk to breathe a full sigh of relief after discovering they hadn’t left yet.

  “But—” Cody literally danced in the confines of the truck. His legs jiggled against the seat. Both size seven boots tapped the floorboard.

  Poor kid! This was his dream, too, and Hawk was making him wait. Not intentionally, but still. He shoved open the door. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

  “Yeah!” Pumping his fist, Cody hopped down from the truck and raced across the moonlit yard, only stumbling once on his way to the front door.

  Hawk watched Cody right himself and tamped down the warning for caution that just about tumbled from his mouth.

  How many times would Cody stumble through life and have to get back up? But a sweeter thought chased that worry away. Would this be the first of many falls in this miniature patch of grass?

  Smiling, Hawk scooped up the bags of essential groceries. Coffee. Milk. Cereal for breakfast. He’d run to the store tomorrow for the rest, after dropping Cody off at school. After the attorney consultation.

  Hope and anxiety duked it out in his gut.

  “Hurry up, Dad!” Cody hollered from the front door, his legs still doing a little dance.

  Ha! All this time, Hawk chalked it up to excitement. Maybe Cody needed the bathroom. Arms loaded, he trudged to the porch.

  “Grab these keys, would you?” When Cody’s hand appeared under his, he dropped them into his son’s palm.

  “Our first house, Dad. Can you believe it?” Cody’s voice came out reverent, hushed. As if renting this house was the most precious gift Hawk could ever give his son.

  A door squeaking nearby broke the silence, and a kid yelled from the next house. “Hey, Cody. Are you moving in?”

  Cody grinned and shouted back, “Yeah. Me and my dad.”

  “Cool. See you at school tomorrow.” Their new neighbor waved and disappeared inside the house.

  “Yeah. See ya!”