A curious sense of isolation slipped over him. Making him feel a little like a mother suffering from empty-nest syndrome. It felt strange, knowing that everyone else was able to function without him. At the moment, nobody needed him, and he didn’t know what to do.
After wandering through the kitchen, he parked himself on the living room sofa and tried to get comfortable. Bored silly, he reached for the remote. Two clicks allowed him to scan the channels. After viewing an array of unfamiliar sitcoms, he flipped to a sports channel. Tried to be interested in the latest football highlights.
But after a good five minutes, Cal clicked off the remote. He’d never had time to watch television in his life, and it didn’t look as if he was going to get interested in sitting in front of the tube any time soon.
With a sigh, he poured out two fingers of scotch and escaped the indoors.
CAL BRACED HIMSELF AND went out to his mother’s rose garden. The mild late-September weather had kept the flowers blooming, and their fragrance drifted over him.
He gingerly sat on one of the ornate benches his father had had designed after her death. Though he’d seen Jarred out here a time or two, and his father visited the garden at least once a day, Cal always avoided it as much as he could.
The garden was beautiful. The benches were works of art.
But being there brought back such intense memories of his mother, it was almost a physical thing, his reaction to being there.
Plain and simply, being in the garden, smelling the roses—it hurt.
He had never thought to ask Jarred and Trent if the scent of roses reminded them of their mom. Maybe he didn’t because he was afraid they’d tell him no and then he’d feel weak.
But even the sight of a rosebud in a vase made memories play in his mind, of how their dad had brought her roses every week during the last year of her life. Cal remembered sitting in the corner of her bedroom when his dad brought in a bouquet. Her eyes had lit up as if that bunch of flowers had been the biggest surprise imaginable.
“Calvin, you spoil me,” she’d always said.
And his father had blushed. His father—who never looked rattled by anything life had to offer—had been constantly rattled by her.
And then he had kissed her pale cheek and told her that he didn’t spoil her enough.
Cal would’ve thought he’d have been embarrassed to be there. No one wanted to see their parents all lovey-dovey. Especially not at fourteen. But instead of feeling awkward, his parents’ love had made him smile. And feel secure.
Watching his dad try so hard to make her comfortable during her last weeks had meant the world to him.
Unbidden, his eyes watered. He pulled back a sharp sip of scotch and pushed the sad memories away. No good ever came of remembering things that made him sad. There wasn’t a thing he could do about the memories or about his feelings of loss that were suddenly hitting him hard in the gut. He knew that.
This was most probably why he never had been one to sit around and stew. All it did was make a man uncomfortable. Or wish for things that weren’t.
But still, for just a moment, he ached to see his mother. To hold her hand, and to listen to her voice. Low and melodious and sweet, it had calmed him like nothing else ever had.
And like nothing else ever would. Except maybe the woman he’d seen yesterday. Susan.
Holding her hand while they’d walked had felt nice. And the curious contentment they’d both felt had given him a much-needed feeling of warmth. More and more, he found himself thinking about her. Remembering how pretty those green eyes of hers were.
Thinking about that pretty head of hair of hers. Imagining her in the shower, the long tresses falling heavy against her back and shoulders.
As the scent of roses became too overpowering, he knew he needed something else to think about. Something else to calm him. So, before he talked himself out of it, he stomped back in the house, picked up his cell phone and dialed the number he’d just added last night. After she’d given it to him.
Just in case they’d ever need to talk.
She answered on the first ring. “Cal?”
“Hey.” Taking off his hat, he scratched his head, suddenly wondering why he’d thought calling her had been the right thing to do.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern. “Has something happened with your dad?”
And of course she’d be concerned. It wasn’t as though he was in the habit of calling her out of the blue. “No. I mean, nothing new.”
“Oh.” She waited.
As he heard her pause, he reviewed his incredibly lame responses so far. No wonder he was sitting home alone while his little brother was with more women than he could count.
Fact was, he had no skills where women were concerned.
“Was there…something you wanted?”
“Yes.” He swallowed. This was the best he could come up with? When the silence hung on, he struggled to think of something to say. “I, uh, was just wondering how Hank was doing.”
“Hank? Oh. Well, he’s fine. Actually, he’s better than that,” she answered, a smile in her voice. “He’s at the movies with a boy from his class. Billy’s parents invited him.”
He remembered how worried she’d been about the boy making friends. “So he’s got himself a friend.”
“Yes, and I’m almost giddy about it.”
So she was alone. Instantly, his body clicked awake as desire hit him hard. However, he did his best to focus on Hank. The, uh, reason he called. “I think I’m almost as happy for you as him, then.”
“Thank you. I’ll take your happiness. It’s hard being the new kid in a small town. And he’s missed a lot of school, too. And, the teacher told the class he was a diabetic, so everyone right away labeled him as different.”
“You didn’t want anyone knowing?”
“No,” she said. “It’s not that I didn’t want anyone knowing, I just didn’t want to mark him as different.”
“But he is different.”
“He has a disease, Cal.”
“Well, lots of kids don’t, so he is different.”
She exhaled loudly. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s been a good thing that the other kids know. I mean, it helps when the moms bring in cupcakes and Hank has to pass them up. But it’s just another reason he’s different, you know? I mean, he already doesn’t have a father. He’s from up north, too. That’s really different for here. And sometimes kids don’t want different.”
He felt like an idiot. After a pause, he replied, “Sorry. I hadn’t thought about those things. I imagine you’re right.” Then, “Who’s his teacher? I know almost everyone around here. Maybe I could talk to her….”
“Cal, I don’t need you to do that. I can talk to my son’s teacher if there’s a problem.”
“Oh. Um, sure you can. I didn’t mean that you couldn’t.”
“You were just trying to take charge?”
“I was just trying to help,” he corrected. “It’s a bad habit of mine. I can’t help but want to manage things.”
“To do them yourself.”
He felt his cheeks heat. “Pretty much. I’m trying to do better, though. Listen, how about we forget I said anything.”
She paused on her end of the line. “No. Listen, I’m sorry. My son is a sensitive subject for me. I’ve been really wondering if moving here has been the right thing to do. You’re only trying to help, and I appreciate that.”
He chuckled. “Sue, we can’t even apologize to each other without arguing, can we?”
“Sometimes we can get along,” she said slowly. “We got along great at your ranch.”
They sure had. Walking to the window, he ran a finger along the pane. Checked for nonexistent dust. Gathered his courage. “Susan, when is Hank due home?”
“Not until about ten or so. They’re getting ice cream after the movie.”
“So, what are you doing?” His fingers played with the slats on a pair of bl
inds, moving them up and down. Honestly, could he be any more awkward and teenager-like?
She chuckled. “Oh, I’m having a great Saturday night. I’m sitting here looking at a book.”
The way she phrased it caught his attention. “Looking?”
“I don’t think you can call it reading if I’ve been looking at the same page for the last hour.”
Examining his almost full glass of scotch, he murmured, “Would you like to go get a drink or something?”
“Like at a bar?”
He was tempted to invite himself to her place, but he thought that would be pushing it. Ditto with her coming over to his place, since he was home alone. They weren’t teenagers, but he didn’t want her to think he wanted more than she could give.
“Yeah. We could go to Bob’s, if you’d like.”
“The honky-tonk?”
He grinned. The way her voice rose made it sound as if he’d just asked her to meet him in a strip club—not that Electra even had one of those. “It is a honky-tonk, technically, but really it’s just a hangout for most of the town. Have you really not been in there?”
“No.”
“Picture peanut shells on the floor, a pair of pool tables that have seen better days and a wide assortment of folks from town, all either drinking beer, whiskey or soda. It’s not a wild place, by any stretch of the imagination.” Well, at least not now, after the Riddell boys had finished sowing their oats. “Well, what do you say? We might as well keep talking, since we’re almost getting along and all.”
“Can I meet you in the parking lot? I don’t want to go in by myself.”
“That sounds fine. Or I can pick you up.”
“I’m on the other side of town. It’s out of your way.”
He looked at his watch. It was eight o’clock. “Want to meet in, say, twenty or thirty minutes?”
“Sure. I’ll see you then.”
When they hung up, Cal felt the warm feeling of satisfaction slide over him.
He refused to contemplate what he was so happy about.
Chapter Twelve
Susan decided to wear a skirt with a thin silk tank top, all in violet. After about two seconds’ deliberation, she’d opted out of jeans—most of the girls in town wore Western-cut jeans with sandals or boots.
In contrast, most of Susan’s jeans looked too tailored. Momlike.
And, well, if she was going out—finally—she wanted to look nice. So she’d put on a skirt and strappy sandals, figuring that even if she didn’t fit in with what the rest of the girls at Bob’s were wearing, why, at least she’d feel good about herself.
As soon as she’d gotten off the phone, she’d stared at it as if it were a live thing. Getting a call from Cal Riddell had been unexpected. But it had been a very nice surprise, too. Susan wasn’t quite sure why Cal had decided to call her, and she wasn’t going to stew over it too much. All she’d known was that she was going to go crazy if she sat and stared at the same page in her book for another hour, feeling guilty about turning down Betsy’s offer of the double date.
Oh, Betsy hadn’t been too thrilled with her answer when she’d called her that morning. Though she had pushed and prodded, cajoled and bribed…Susan had stayed firm. She wasn’t interested in going on a date with Betsy’s almost-boyfriend’s friend. Especially since she was uncomfortable with Betsy’s comment about dating men who had money.
Of course, wasn’t that what she was doing now? Getting ready to meet Cal Riddell—just about the richest man in town—at a honky-tonk?
Susan certainly wasn’t a saint, but trying to snag a man because of his income certainly wasn’t one of her faults.
Plus, she hadn’t been completely at fault, anyway. She really didn’t have a babysitter.
However, starting at four that afternoon, things had begun to change. So much so, it was as though a fairy godmother had appeared and decided to take things into her own hands. Suddenly Hank had plans, with a boy whose parents Susan had met and trusted.
And then Cal called.
Now, here she was, sitting in Bob’s parking lot, watching a whole assortment of folks wander in and out. Every so often—well, every two minutes or so—she craned her neck around, watching for Cal’s truck.
Just when she’d begun to worry if he had decided to stand her up, there he was—looking as perfect and handsome as he ever did. His jeans were dark and snug fitting. Around his waist was a finely crafted leather belt, fastened with a silver buckle. The oxford shirt he wore was starched enough to stand up on its own.
The man oozed confidence. He stood near the entrance, glancing around the parking lot. Waiting for her. As she gathered her purse, she saw him nod to a couple of women who walked by, his expression friendly but distant.
She stepped out of her car and locked it. When she straightened again, she saw him walking toward her.
And there was a look of appreciation in his eyes that was unmistakable.
“You made it,” he said. “Right on time, too.”
“You, too.” There was no need for him to know that she’d come early.
“I was afraid I was going to be late. Gwen and Ginny came in as I was leaving. I had to answer a dozen questions about why I was looking so slick on a Saturday night.”
Now that she knew Gwen, Susan had a feeling the questions were laced with humor. “Was Gwen glad you were going out?”
“Glad is kind of putting it mildly. She’s thought I should get out more for some time.”
Looking bored with the talk about himself, he held out a hand. “So, are you ready to get a good look at the best Electra has to offer?”
Hesitantly, she slid her palm in his. It felt warm and callused against her hand. Solid and secure. “I’d be a fool to say no, I think.”
“Don’t fret. Like I told you on the phone, it’s more of a town hangout than anything.” He dropped her hand to open the door for her, then guided her through it with a hand on the small of her back.
Immediately, she was enveloped in a cloud of cigarette smoke, the scent of stale beer and the blare of loud music from the jukebox. Even louder was a group of twenty-something men and women in a room off to the side. “That’s the game room,” Cal said, his fingers still grazing her hip. “The pool tables are in there.”
The rest of the bar was made up of roughly ten square wooden tables, a long bar that ran along the back wall and at least thirty more people of assorted ages either sitting or standing in groups.
Almost all of them looked their way. And a good number of them either nodded or said hello to Cal.
And then they gave her a good once-over.
Susan shivered a bit, feeling on display. Cal eyed them all, as usual not smiling. Though he hardly did more but touch the small of her back, she felt as if he’d just stared everyone down. Telling them without a word that she wasn’t available.
She should mind that, yet somehow she didn’t.
Instead, she smiled at him as he held a chair out for her, then he sat down beside her.
Soon their server came over.
“Junior,” she said with a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey there, Jolene,” he said to the knockout-gorgeous blonde wearing short shorts and a T-shirt stretched so tight across her chest, that the Bob emblazoned in bright blue letters looked like Boob at first glance.
For the first time all night, Cal smiled. “How you doing? How’s that baby of yours?”
“She’s perfect and I’m good enough. I haven’t seen you in ages. How’s your family?”
“We’ve been better. Dad’s in the hospital. Trent is, too.”
Something flickered in Jolene’s eyes. It was a tactic that Susan knew well. Hiding an interest that would be better hid. “Is he okay?”
“Trent? Yeah. He got thrown off a bull and is wishing for pain relief, but he’s hanging in there.”
Susan noticed there was an odd gentleness in his voice.
“Thank goodness. And your daddy?”
“He h
ad heart surgery, but he’s gonna be okay, too.”
Looking Susan’s way, he shook his head and dropped the smile. In that now-familiar way that told her he was disappointed in himself. “I’m sorry, Susan. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Sue, this is Jolene. We’ve been friends forever. Jo, this is Susan Young. She works at the Electra Lodge.” He winked. “As the director of Human Resources.”
“Nice to meet you,” Susan said, trying not to dwell on the fact that he had introduced her by her job, not by their relationship. Of course, what were they anyway? Friends? More than that?
Jolene smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her words were sweetly said.
But Susan noticed the woman was looking her over curiously, obviously trying to figure out where she fit in the scheme of things. Suddenly, Susan realized that she didn’t have a single thing in her closet that would have been appropriate for this place.
Shoot. She looked as if she was going to a business meeting, not out to a bar with peanut shells strewn everywhere.
Jolene grabbed the tray she’d pushed over to the side when they’d all started talking. “Well, I’m sure y’all didn’t wander in here to visit with me. What can I get you?”
Cal looked her way. “Susan?”
“A light beer?”
“I’ll take a Bud.”
Jolene winked. “One Bud Light, one Bud coming up.”
When she walked away with a swish of her hips, Susan noticed more than one or two cowboys watch her walk. “Wow,” Susan said, thinking Hank’s word about the ranch seemed the only suitable reaction. “She’s pretty.”
Looking Jolene’s way, he grinned. “That she is.”
“You seem close. Did y’all date?”
Under his black Stetson, his eyebrows rose. “No. She’s quite a bit younger than me. And, well, since we were small, she was always Trent’s friend.” He smiled. “She’s always had a thing for my brother, if you want to know the truth.”
“Was it mutual?” Susan watched Jolene laugh with a couple other women behind the bar, grab two bottles of beer, then approach them again.
“Not as mutual as one of them hoped,” he said quickly as Jolene approached. When she placed an icy-cold bottle in front of each of them, he smiled at the blonde again. “Thanks, Jo. We’ll run a tab.”
My True Cowboy Page 11
