Cowboy in Charge

by Barbara White Daille

  “Got it.”

  By the time she locked the door, Jason had tucked Jill into the carriage and he and Scott had started off in the direction of Canyon Road, Cowboy Creek’s main street. Scott walked beside Jason with one hand on the handle of the carriage.

  With Jason shortening his steps to match her son’s, she easily caught up to them.

  They walked along together as if they were simply out for their usual stroll. Half of her wanted to believe in the fantasy. The other half of her wanted to call off this trip—this farce—and go home.

  The afternoon sun was strong enough to combat the January chill in the air. It just couldn’t do much about the shiver running through her. She crossed her arms over her chest and kept moving.

  “You cold?” Jason asked. He wore no jacket, just the T-shirt he’d put on that morning.

  “I’m fine,” she said. It was partly true. Whether her reaction had come from pleasure or apprehension, she certainly wouldn’t admit either possibility to Jason.

  What she should do was tell him to turn the carriage over to her and then go on his way. She didn’t want him getting more involved with her children. Considering their history, anyone would understand her feelings. And yet there were things she did want that didn’t make any sense.

  “I’d forgotten how quiet it is in Cowboy Creek,” he said.

  Not a car came down the side street, not a pedestrian walked in sight. Not even a dog barked anywhere within hearing.

  “That’s why I like this neighborhood. It’s quiet. Safe for the kids.”

  “You’ve lived here for a while.”

  He made it a statement, not a question, but she knew what he was asking. And what was the point of hiding the truth? “Just since my second divorce.” She looked sideways at him. “Where’s home for you nowadays?”

  “I don’t have a home.” She caught the bitterness in his tone. Then he laughed, and she realized she must have been mistaken. “Unless you call a bunkhouse full of cowboys a home.”

  “I suppose it is, if that’s where you sleep every night.”

  He glanced at her as if he suspected a double meaning from the comment. When she said nothing else, he shrugged. “To tell the truth, over the past few years, I’ve probably slept in my truck more than I have in the bunkhouse.”

  Scott gasped. “Go to sleep in a truck?”

  “I sure do,” he confirmed.

  “Mommy, I can have a truck, too?”

  “I don’t think so, honey. It wouldn’t fit in your bedroom. And where would we put Jill’s crib?”

  “In my truck.”

  She and Jason both laughed.

  She blinked and looked away. Scott’s questions had reminded her of the caution she’d given Jason about watching what he said in front of kids. She had been unforgivably offensive to him—again. Somehow, she couldn’t seem to stop crossing the line between asserting her rights and fighting a long-dead battle.

  A slight breeze ruffled the loose edge of Jill’s blanket. She reached over to tuck the cover into the carriage just as Jason reached down. Their hands collided, his fingers warm against hers. She shoved her hand into her jacket pocket. He tucked the blanket in and checked that the baby was covered, too, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

  At the crosswalk, Scott reached up to take Jason’s hand, the way he had been taught to do with her whenever they crossed a street.

  She wanted to pull her son’s hand away from Jason’s just as she had done with her own. But how could she protest without confusing Scott?

  She was already confused enough herself. Almost, she wished Jason had never come back. Almost, she wished he had already gone home. He would go. That was inevitable. He had always been there for the fun times and in the short term. But when things got tough, he bolted.

  Taking care of the kids while she was sick couldn’t be classified as a pleasure in anyone’s book, yet he’d done what he could for them. A walk to the sandwich shop wasn’t much of a hot time, either. Yet, here he was.

  And almost, she wished she could trust him to be around to share all the simple, everyday events in her life.

  * * *

  THEY HADN’T MADE it as far as SugarPie’s, after all. When they had turned the corner onto Canyon Road, Scott had spotted the Big Dipper. He set his sights on going there, and his mama had gone along with the change in plans.

  Jason didn’t mind, either. A banana split wouldn’t have been his first choice of dessert in January, but it never dropped off his personal menu. He wondered how much of Layne’s agreement was driven by the boy’s eagerness to have ice cream and how much of it came from her need to sit down.

  They were the only ones in the place, which allowed her to argue with him about who would pay for their order.

  “You bought my groceries,” she said in a low voice when Shay had moved away to assemble his banana split. “Getting dessert is the least I can do.”

  “You never pay when I’m with you at the Big Dipper,” he said flatly.

  Her face froze. She blinked once, then walked away to plop herself down at a nearby table.

  They had left the carriage parked outside the shop. She set the baby carrier on the far edge of the table near the wall and took off the blanket. Scott settled down in a chair beside them with his ice cream cone.

  The minute Jason joined them, Layne leaned forward and said quietly, “That wasn’t necessary.”

  “Really? With the way Shay stood behind the counter giving me the evil eye?”

  She shot a quick look toward the cash register, but he knew the other woman had disappeared through the doorway behind it into the back room.

  “She didn’t give you the evil eye.”

  “Close enough to it, and I wasn’t about to stand down.” He dug into his banana split and held up a mouthful of vanilla ice cream. “You sure you don’t want any? I can always get another spoon.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Too tame for you, huh? You always went for the fancy ones, the chocolate-marshmallow swirl or the pistachio-walnut-mint.”

  “I’m surprised you remembered.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Are you kidding? Those were premium flavors. I had to pay extra for ’em.”

  That got her looking at him. “Don’t even try to make me feel guilty about that. Your banana splits and triple-dip sundaes cost three times as much as my cones.”

  He laughed and spooned up a mound of chocolate ice cream covered with whipped cream. “We spent plenty of time here in our dating days, didn’t we?”

  “It was everybody’s favorite hangout.”

  “I’ll agree with that. And I won’t point out how you sidestepped the question.”

  When she turned her attention to the baby, he studied her. Layne’s cheeks looked nearly as red as the cherry on his banana split. The color might have come from the cold outside or from flu symptoms she was hiding. He didn’t know. But when she shivered again, he knew he couldn’t attribute it to ice cream. She hadn’t had any. “Are you sure you’re not cold?”

  She shook her head. “And I didn’t sidestep your question. I’m just following a logical train of thought. We would probably have hung out at SugarPie’s more often if she hadn’t been so strict about all of us watching our manners.”

  “She sure hasn’t let up any in that regard. When I went to get lunch, she gave me a piece of her mind. In that sweet Southern way of hers, of course.”

  “Really? About what?”

  “About us. Or to be more accurate, about me.” She didn’t respond, but all that bright color drained from her cheeks. “About the way I’d left you. She doesn’t think too kindly of me for that. And I just ran into Mitch Weston at the Cantina, and he tells me your brother doesn’t have me too high on his list of favorites, either.�
��

  “Did you expect either of them would?”

  Not wanting—or not able—to admit the truth to her, he stabbed at his ice cream with his spoon.

  “Mommy.” Scott held up his cone.

  She took it from him and turned the cone slowly, making one long swipe with her tongue to clean up the dribbles of melting chocolate. Now he was the one shivering, but not from the temperature or the flu or his banana split.

  “Yucky, Mommy.” Scott smacked his sticky hands together.

  Jason handed him a paper napkin from the dispenser at his elbow. The boy rubbed the napkin on his hands, then tossed it on the table—or tried to. The shredded paper clung to his ice-cream-covered fingers.

  “I go wash.”

  Jason eyed the set of double doors at one end of the shop. They led to a hallway at the back of the building shared by the adjacent convenience store. At the midpoint of the hall the restrooms flanked the emergency exit. In their school days, kids looking for excitement sometimes ducked out through that exit with items they hadn’t paid for. Or they visited the restrooms to carry out some minor act of vandalism. “I’ll take Scott back to wash his hands.” He was halfway out of his seat when Layne shook her head.

  “I’ll go with him.”

  Slowly, he sank back into his chair. “Okay. I’ll watch Jill.”

  “I’ll take her with us. She probably needs a change.”

  Scott had wandered off toward the direction of the hallway. He stood near the front counter, his sticky fingers splayed against the glass front. Shay wouldn’t be too happy to see the results.

  Jason looked at the baby, who was sleeping soundly, one fist curled under her chin. “She’s out. No sense waking her up.”

  “She’s used to it.”

  Layne reached for the handle of the carrier. He put his hand on her arm. “Wait a minute. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” But again, she wouldn’t look his way.

  He stared at her. “Something’s up. What, do you think I’ll walk off with the baby? Or take Scott out the back entrance on our way to the bathrooms?”

  “Don’t be so silly,” she snapped.

  “Then don’t be so damned stubborn,” he shot back. “These past few days at your apartment, you were willing enough to take my help. But now we’re out in public, something’s different?”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “Then, what has?”

  “This.” She gestured with her free hand and shook her head in annoyance, but kept her voice down, probably thinking of Shay in the back room. “I’ve already thanked you for your help, but you know I wouldn’t have accepted it if I could have found someone else. And I can’t take this...this assumption you can just step into my life—our lives—and act like you’ve always been here. Like you never left.”

  “I’m not assuming anything, just going day by day. And being there for you, the way I have been for nearly a week now. I haven’t done anything to make you think you can’t trust me.”

  “But how do I know I can? You can’t buy a person’s trust with some groceries and an ice-cream cone. At least, not mine. You have to earn it.”

  He’d have called her on the statement, kept her from walking away, insisted they finish the argument, except for the look on her face. For once, she hadn’t managed to hide her emotions behind a blank expression. She hadn’t turned away in time to keep him from seeing the tears in her eyes.

  He sucked in a breath.

  Layne never cried.

  He waited till she disappeared through the doorway with the kids. He checked the counter area to make sure Shay had stayed in the back room. And then he shoved his bowl away from him and slumped back in his seat.

  How had this all gotten so complicated?

  Before he’d come to town, his plan was simply to check up on his child and convince Layne to take the child support he owed. Now, it looked like he’d have to prove himself to her. But how could he do that?

  He’d run into plenty of skepticism from folks in town already and knew he would face more—and worse—once he encountered Layne’s brother. At the rate he was going, he’d have to prove himself to the whole of Cowboy Creek.

  Both of which might be easier to handle than facing Layne.

  With her, he’d gone beyond just the need to prove himself a better man. Now, according to the challenge she’d thrown at him, he had to earn her trust again.

  He wanted to do that.

  But, given their history, getting her to trust him could be a downright impossible goal.

  Chapter Nine

  Layne had just finished settling Jill in her crib when she heard a faraway rapping on the apartment door. Her thoughts shot to Jason.

  When they had arrived home from the Big Dipper, he’d escorted them into the apartment. The minute he had set Jill’s carrier on the couch, he’d announced he had errands to run. That was the last she had seen of him all afternoon.

  When he got back, she would bite her tongue till it bled rather than admit she missed him. And yet she did, more than she wanted to admit even to herself.

  She had left Scott playing with his cars in the living room. As she came down the hall, she heard him run to the apartment door and call out.

  “Who is that?”

  “Hey, Scott. It’s Grandpa Jed.”

  Frowning, she crossed the room. She and Cole had always looked to Jed Garland almost as a substitute father. But, though she often saw him at SugarPie’s and at parties and barbecues out at the Hitching Post, she couldn’t remember the last time he had come to the apartment. As she swung open the door, she half expected to see Jason beside the older man. Instead, Jed stood alone, his white hair rumpled and his Stetson in one hand.

  “Come in.” She stepped back. “Is everything okay? It’s not something with Cole? Or Tina and the baby?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” He stepped into the room. “For one thing, Sugar said you were under the weather. I thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing.”

  “Better, thanks. Much better.”

  He glanced past her. “Jason not around?”

  “No. Uh...he had a few things to do. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Or tea?”

  He waved the offers away. “Don’t want to put you out.”

  “You won’t be. I was just going to heat up the kettle for tea for myself.”

  “The same will be fine for me, then.”

  She went toward the kitchen, leaving Jed to seat himself in the armchair she had begun to think of as Jason’s. The thought made her wince. She was getting too used to having him around...a problem she might not have to worry about for much longer.

  Her hands shook as she took the tea canister down from the shelf. A delayed reaction from the walk, that was all. Their stroll to the Big Dipper and back again had worn her out. So had the strain of her conversation with Jason and the uncomfortable near-silence on their trip back home.

  She filled the kettle, assembled mugs and spoons and dessert plates, arranged gingerbread cookies in a shallow bowl, all without paying attention to what she did. Her mind wasn’t anywhere near her actions in the kitchen.

  She only hoped Jason’s errands hadn’t included going straight to Jed. Why he would do that, she didn’t know, but Jed’s arrival seemed much too coincidental. If all was well with Cole and Tina, what other reason would he have to stop by?

  And where was Jason? It was getting close to supper time. To her dismay, she realized she had been stalling, holding off on deciding what to make for herself and Scott, expecting Jason to walk in the door at any minute.

  Maybe he didn’t plan to come back. Maybe he had left town again.

  Maybe that was what had brought Jed here today.

  She knew one thing for certain
. Standing here in the kitchen worrying over all these questions wouldn’t get her any answers.

  In the living room again, she set the serving tray on the coffee table and handed Jed a mug.

  “Cookie, Mommy?” Scott asked.

  “Just one. We’ll be having supper in a little while.” She looked at Jed, who sat back in his chair and sipped his hot tea. He didn’t seem to want to launch into conversation—which put her even more on edge. Jed always had something to say. She forced herself to make small talk, postponing the moment she would find out why he was really here. “How is everyone out at the ranch? I haven’t spoken to anyone since I got sick. Except Shay. She told me the wedding was beautiful.”

  “Everybody’s just fine, and the wedding went off without a hitch.”

  Despite her tension, she laughed. Since the Garlands had begun holding weddings at the Hitching Post again, that had become Jed’s favorite phrase.

  “More to the point,” he said, “how are you?”

  “Much better, as I said. I think the flu is on the way out.”

  “And how are things going now Jason’s back again?”

  She took a cookie and set it on a dessert plate, then settled against the couch with the plate on her knee. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘back,’” she said slowly. “He helped me out with the kids when I wasn’t feeling well, but he’s gone now.”

  “Not from Cowboy Creek. And I’ve got a hunch he’s not going anywhere soon.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, he came back here for a reason, didn’t he? And as proud as I am of the Hitching Post, I doubt he returned just to soak up the ambience of the surroundings there, like the saying goes.” He looked at her over the rim of his mug. “Though he hasn’t said as much, I’m willing to bet his trip’s got to do with you. And your boy.”

  She glanced quickly at Scott, who had finished his cookie and returned to playing with his cars. “He wanted to see Scott,” she admitted in a quiet tone.

  “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

  I want to make up for lost time, he had told her. “He said he wants to help me. By giving me child support, not by staying around and building a relationship with...with Scott.”