A Cowboy in Her Arms

by Mary Leo

  “You think so?” she said, turning to him.

  He slipped his hand around her waist, and a surge of heat swept through her body. She hadn’t seen him since the previous Saturday at the birthday party for Wade’s nephew. Polly or Wade had driven Emma to and from school last week, which had been fine with Callie. She’d needed some time to digest all that she’d learned about the lies that Sarah had told, and Joel’s reaction to them.

  In her mind, the fact that he could admit his reaction back then had been wrong went a long way in building up his new sincere character. Her trust in him was growing stronger and deeper.

  Plus there was her ongoing issue with Emma. Wheezy had not fully recovered from his cold, so Callie had quarantined him in his own little cage away from the children, but still close enough to his sibling, Squeezy. Emma had fussed about it all week, and even found a way to take him out of his cage to hold him when Callie had repeatedly told her not to.

  Emma simply wouldn’t obey her and Callie didn’t know what she could do to change that.

  “Yep. Practiced all week.” He did a few air moves pretending to cast his line out into the water. Callie had to admit, his movements were spot-on.

  “Wade been teaching you?”

  “He gave me a crash course and I kept going. Practiced every morning for three hours solid.”

  “Is that why I didn’t see you at school with Emma?”

  “Exactly. Needed my time alone. Polly thinks I have a good chance. We went fishing yesterday and I caught a monster rainbow trout, cleaned and filleted it, then shoved it in the freezer. Looking forward to catching the biggest one today.”

  Callie liked his new confidence, but she doubted if he could deliver. Fly-fishing took a lot of time and patience to master.

  “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” They walked out into the river together. Callie and Joel both wore knee-high rubber black boots over water-resistant field pants and jackets under easy-dry pocket vests. Callie figured Wade or Polly must have taken him shopping over the Idaho border to Jackson, Wyoming, at the outfitter store. His now well-worn gray cowboy hat was slung low on his forehead, shading those gorgeous, piercing blue eyes of his from the bright sunshine.

  “Actually, I’m here because I get to spend time with you. If I catch a fish or two in the process, I’ll consider the day a complete success.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She chuckled, easily teasing him now that she had decided to let down her guard...at least a little...and try to enjoy the festivities.

  “Then my work here is done.” And he leaned in to kiss her, but she nudged him back.

  “Not until you catch at least one substantial-sized fish or everyone will think you shirked your responsibility. Today is all about the fish fry tonight, and that means we need a lot of fish. So get catching.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Joel said and walked a few feet away from her, closer to Hank Marsh, to prepare himself for his task.

  She watched as a geared-up Joel took time to hold the rod in his right hand, then carefully placed his left foot forward and his right foot a little farther back. He squared his shoulders, pulled some line off the reel and let it drop into the water at his feet. Some perfect false roll-casting followed, so he wouldn’t hook anyone behind him, abruptly stopping the momentum of his forearm at twelve and two o’clock. He then allowed the line to slip through his index finger and thumb during the moment, landing the fly way out in the center of the river.

  “You sure you’ve only been at this a week?” she called out after him.

  He nodded his head. “Yep. I guess I’m a natural,” he said as he demonstrated to Hank how to cast a line out even farther.

  “And then some. It’s like you’ve been angling your whole life,” Hank Marsh said in a loud voice as he followed Joel’s instructions.

  “Seems you finally found your niche, Joel Darwood,” Callie teased, completely surprised by how well Joel had taken to fly-fishing when for most people, proper casting was next to impossible to master. “You were meant to live in the country.”

  “That’s the plan, Ms. Callaghan Grant.”

  Their voices carried over the rippling river without much effort.

  “You have a plan?” Callie asked, ribbing him, delighted to see him adjusting to the environment, making friends with Hank, slipping into the event as if he’d participated many times before.

  “Oh, yeah, and so far, it’s working perfectly.”

  “Don’t count your chickens,” Hank Marsh told him while focusing on his line drifting in the river.

  “Chickens have never been very reliable. I’m more into trusting my gut,” Joel countered.

  “And what does your gut tell you?” Callie asked, enjoying the banter.

  The two men suddenly became excited over a fish on the end of Hank’s hook. Hank carefully reeled it in closer as Joel went out to meet it with his net. Once Joel scooped it up, he let out a loud, “Oh, man!”

  “What did he catch?” Callie asked as she made her way to the two men.

  “The winning Kamloops,” Hank Marsh said as more people started wading toward them.

  And sure enough, by the end of the day, Hank Marsh, with Joel’s help had, in fact, caught the largest fish, a twenty-six-pound Kamloops, a type of rainbow trout that was known to grow big and fast.

  * * *

  THE ACTUAL FISH FRY took place in the town square, where the Red Neck Villains played bluegrass music in the gazebo, kids had their faces painted, Nettie O’Leary sold her raw local honey and Sam Cook sold his homemade habanero-blueberry jelly. Other locals sold everything from kettle corn to organic baby clothes.

  The day had been long and enjoyable, with a trophy for Hank Marsh, Amanda Gump and a few other folks from town. It seemed that all Joel did for the better part of the day was introduce himself to everyone he could, which surprised Callie. She knew he’d turned over a new leaf, she just didn’t know that leaf happened to be an entire olive branch.

  Emma had won a trophy in the kid’s category of catch-and-release for the third-biggest rainbow trout. Joel had been beside himself with joy when she’d won and had made a fuss, something his own dad would never have done. According to Joel, his dad had always refrained from public displays of emotion, and for that matter, he refrained from private displays, as well.

  “I intend to break that stiff, emotionless pattern of my dad’s,” Joel had said. “Emma deserves a whole world of public praise for winning a trophy today. That took a lot of work on her part and she needs a ton of credit!”

  Then he’d twirled his daughter around and proceeded to praise her for the next half hour. It was actually fun to watch him not only praise her, but tell everyone who was around them that she’d won.

  Callie liked his bravado and how much he celebrated Emma’s victory. He was fun to be around and Emma was a delight, as well.

  All day long, Callie could barely think of anything else but how Joel’s lips had felt on hers. She felt certain that distraction had lost her a trophy today. Her biggest catch was a three-pound sturgeon, hardly a contender.

  She’d wanted to kiss Joel earlier that day when they’d first met out on the river, then later after Hank pulled in the winning trout, and when Joel began his open praise for Emma. She felt drawn to him even though she wasn’t quite sure if he was playing the flame and she the moth.

  Now, as night fell on Briggs, while Callie sat across from Joel at one of the long tables set up to accommodate the participants and watched him interact with Emma, who didn’t seem to want to agree to anything, who had become prickly and refused to cooperate with her dad, Callie tried her best to ignore the situation and let Joel handle it. Callie reminded herself that she was Emma’s teacher, not her mother.

  Emma could be playful and loving, and Callie liked being around h
er during those times, but there were other times when she could be so downright ornery that Callie didn’t know if she could ever learn to accept that kind of behavior. The child tested her patience like none other.

  “I want a butterfly painted on my cheek, like Mary has on her face, Daddy,” Emma told her dad after she’d refused to eat any of the fish. As it turned out, Emma had decided she didn’t like fish, nor did she like coleslaw, and she especially disliked baked potatoes. “I don’t want this food, Daddy. I don’t like it, and I’m not hungry.”

  “You should at least try it, kitten. If you take a couple mouthfuls of your fish, along with some coleslaw, you can get your face painted. Aunt Polly will take you.”

  She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

  Callie refused to bite and instead drank down her cola.

  “I don’t want to,” Emma protested, then pushed her dish away, causing it to slip off the table and land upside down on the grass. She looked up at Joel, guilt staining her little face, knowing perfectly well she’d done something very wrong.

  “Fine. Say you’re sorry, then you can go over to Aunt Polly,” Joel told her as he leaned over to pick up her mess.

  Emma sat silent for a moment as Joel cleaned up her overturned plate.

  “Emma, I’m waiting,” he demanded, albeit not in a very commanding voice. It sounded more like a plea.

  “Sorry,” she whispered as she shot up from the table, then ran off to meet her aunt along with Mary, Frankie and a few of the other kids from class.

  Callie continued to sip her cola, really trying to hold her tongue, but not being able to when she leaned over and saw the mess Emma had made. Most of her meal had landed on the bench seat and Joel busied himself trying to clean it up.

  “What?” Joel said as he glanced up at Callie. “I can hear your thoughts whirling.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “Yep. I can tell you didn’t like how that went down.”

  “It’s none of my business.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re chomping at the bit wanting to say something about it.”

  Callie knocked off the rest of her drink, and slammed down the bottle a little too hard on the wooden table. “That’s it? That’s her punishment for acting like a complete brat?” Once she let go, Callie could hardly contain herself. Emma had been defiant, disrespectful and wasteful with good food.

  “What would you like me to do, Callie? It’s been a long day, and she’s probably tired.”

  “So you’re blaming her bad behavior on fatigue.” Callie stood and cleared her side of the table along with Joel’s, then discarded everything in the nearby trash bin, careful to put the bottle in with the other recyclables. She really didn’t want to get into this with Joel, at least not here, not now.

  “What else can it be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know...complete disregard for your authority, lack of discipline, zero conviction. A child knows when a parent is serious or not. They’re always testing authority, which is natural, but Emma has to learn her own self-discipline or no one will want to be around her, not even her friends.”

  Callie hadn’t meant to take her argument that far, but she simply couldn’t sit back anymore. He’d asked, so the floodgates were open. She’d seen how he’d behaved with Emma when she started acting out, and Callie simply couldn’t stay silent any longer. She’d studied enough about child behavior while she was preparing to teach kindergarten to know what worked and what didn’t, and so far, Joel wasn’t cutting it.

  Callie braced herself for an argument while Joel dumped Emma’s mess into the trash, then he sat back down at the table, looking defeated.

  “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I’m not very good at this parenting thing. Polly is after me all the time, but Emma’s been through a lot in the last few months, and I can’t help but give her a pass on most things. I suppose I’ll have to toughen up at some point...just not tonight. Not when we’ve all had such a great day together.”

  His words deflated Callie’s resolve to drive her point home. He had agreed with her. At least that was a start.

  * * *

  “WE DID HAVE a great day, a really great day,” Callie said, then came over to the table and sat beside him. He felt as though they’d managed to get past an argument, a good sign. “I’m sorry if I came off a little rough on this subject. It’s just that I see a lot of Sarah in Emma, maybe a bit too much, and I’m scared for her.”

  He took her hand in his and threaded his fingers around hers. He liked how their hands seemed to fit together as if they were made for this. “Don’t be. I’ll figure it out...with your help, and Polly’s, of course. So far, every time I’ve reached out to someone in this town, it’s worked in my benefit. I’m thinking if I reach out to you for some pointers on the right way to get through to Emma, I’ll eventually get this parenting thing down.”

  She smiled. “I’m not saying I’m an expert. I’m just saying...”

  He leaned in and kissed her words away. He couldn’t help himself. The more time he spent with her, the more he listened to what she had to say about this town, the people, his daughter, the more he wanted to be part of her life—if she’d let him.

  The kiss only lasted a few seconds before she pulled away. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” he asked, sitting back, teasing her.

  “Kiss me like that when I’m trying to make a point.”

  “But you already made your point, and besides, I like it when you scold me like that. It’s cute.”

  “I wasn’t scolding you. And cute has nothing to do with...”

  He kissed her again. This time she leaned in and kissed him back before she pulled away again.

  “You have to stop doing that,” she told him, a sweet little grin turning up those gorgeous lips of hers.

  “Doing what?”

  “Kissing me.”

  He leaned in again, but she nudged him back. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re in a public place.”

  “And?”

  “And...people will talk.”

  He looked around. Absolutely no one was looking their way. “They’re all too busy with their own stuff.”

  “They won’t be if this keeps up.”

  “I don’t intend to stop.” He kissed her neck, and the scent of her skin sent a rush of heat over his body. She slid farther away.

  “If you’re going to kiss me like that, can we at least go someplace less public?”

  He gazed around. The band was still playing, and the fish fry after-party didn’t look as if it would be ending any time soon.

  “Just point me in the right secluded direction and I’m there.”

  “Follow me.” She stood, still holding his hand. “There’s a private little park about five minutes from here. No one will be there because of the fish fry.”

  He ran his fingers down her cheek, then slipped her hair behind her ear. Her skin and hair felt like silk. Just touching her like this clenched his stomach and ignited his blood.

  “Just let me tell Polly to keep an eye on Emma for a few minutes.”

  “A few minutes?” she teased. “Is that all?”

  “How about if I tell her we’re going for a walk? That we’ll be a while.”

  Callie shrugged. “That’s probably a wise decision, considering...”

  He chuckled.

  “...considering.”

  Then he kissed her one more time, just to make sure this was really happening.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ten minutes later, Joel followed Callie into a small, secluded park complete with an assortment of deep red and golden blooming plants. A number of trees stood tall, ablaze with fall colors, bright orange pumpkins lined the winding walkway, a
nd several benches were scattered throughout the area, beckoning them to take a seat. The sun was quickly setting and cast a warm glow on the surroundings. He felt as if he’d just walked into a secret garden.

  Two old-style street lamps sat at either end of the park, ready to illuminate the area as soon as the sun set.

  “Part of this is a skating rink in the winter, but the rest of the time, it’s simply a place to sit to enjoy the beauty. It’s owned by the Skaits family, but they keep it open to the public most of the time, except for an occasional private party. I went to elementary school with the Skaits brothers who take care of all this now.”

  “It’s beautiful. Why didn’t Polly tell me about this place?”

  “Because up until about six years ago, it was a mess—weeds everywhere, dead plants, trees, and the benches were all broken.”

  He took her hand and walked alongside of her as she spoke. Her raven hair lying on her shoulders and down her back reminded him of how silky it had felt. He wanted to run his hands through it again, wanted to hold her in his arms, press her body against his and never let her go.

  He stopped walking and turned to her. “There’s no one around now.”

  “I know,” she said, then stepped in front of him and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he pulled her in tight, tangling his fingers in her amazing hair, hoping this time she wouldn’t pull away. Wouldn’t tell him that this couldn’t work. That she needed more time.

  Instead she moved in closer, kissed him harder, moving her lips over his, parting his lips with hers. When his tongue brushed against hers, it ignited a fire deep within him, one that he’d thought was all but gone. He reached inside her shirt and cupped her breast as her sexy throaty moan sent desire to his very core.

  “I think we need to make this a bit more private,” he whispered.

  She took his hand and led him behind a cluster of trees and vines.

  “Private enough?” she asked, brushing her lips over his.