The Cowboy and His Baby

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The Cowboy and His Baby Page 23

by Jessica Clare


  DUSTIN: So you agree it might be a girl, then?

  ANNIE: Just for today. Tomorrow we’ll see.

  DUSTIN: And how’s Morgan’s mom?

  ANNIE: Tired. Trying to figure out my options for employment.

  DUSTIN: Do you need money? I can send you some.

  ANNIE: Nope, I’m good. :) Just mostly restless.

  DUSTIN: I know how that feels.

  He didn’t tell her he was in Florida, watching his restless dream wither away before his eyes. He didn’t want her to feel pressured or that he had an ulterior motive.

  ANNIE: My mother thinks I should get in front of the camera for a plethora of ‘pregnant woman in supermarket’ type roles. Hit that window while I have it, right? And my friend Katherine knows someone that needs a dog trainer in Vancouver for the next two months. Seems their last trainer broke both his legs in a skiing accident and now can’t work until he gets some mobilization again. I haven’t said yes to anything, though, but the boredom is killing me.

  DUSTIN: You could do dog training. Or even dog walking. Whatever it is, you’ll be awesome at it. You’re smart and clever and anyone would be lucky to have you.

  ANNIE: :)

  ANNIE: Thank you.

  ANNIE: I haven’t figured anything out but I do have options. I’m just . . . not sold on any of them.

  DUSTIN: I hear you.

  ANNIE: How about you? How are you doing? How’s Moose?

  Moose was back with Eli and the others, no doubt pining away that Dustin was gone. Well, not entirely. The dog had latched on to Cass recently, fascinated with the new baby. He hovered protectively near her, his herding instincts kicking in. If Dustin decided to leave the ranch, he’d go back for Moose, but for now, he was content to leave him with the others.

  DUSTIN: Everything’s great here.

  He wanted to tell her that he missed her. That he loved her. That Moose missed her, too. That Cass hoped she was okay and was saving baby clothes for her. That he had been to see his boat and his beach dream and had been unimpressed. He had so much he wanted to tell her . . . but he wasn’t sure what to say. Their “friendship” was fragile, and he didn’t want to fill her phone with how he really felt. So all the I miss you and I love you and Nothing’s the same without you messages he wanted to send remained in his head alone. Eventually, he just texted back with:

  DUSTIN: Hope you’re enjoying LA. Tell Morgan I miss her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Dustin left Florida a few unsatisfying days later. The weather was nice, the scenery was great . . . but it wasn’t home. Funny how he hadn’t wanted a home for so long and now it was all that he wanted. That dream was pretty dead, though, and he returned to Price Ranch. He spent time with Moose, helped Clyde and Eli catch up on the backlog of chores, and then he drove out to Iowa, back to his hometown.

  He hadn’t been there since he was sixteen.

  It felt strange to be back. Some things hadn’t changed, but other things were different. The old bank had been replaced by a Burger King. The white brick school building he’d gone to looked old and yellowed, but there were still kids running laps at the track, and the old barn that he used to sneak out to in order to meet girls was still there, as crumbling and run-down as ever.

  In a world of social media and instant connections, he hadn’t tried to contact his parents again. He knew he should. He didn’t hate them. He didn’t feel anger toward them. It was just a thing that, the longer it was left undone, the harder it was to pick up the phone and try to explain himself. It became easier to avoid.

  Maybe that was part of the problem that Annie wanted him to fix, so he pulled up to his parents’ old house and knocked on the door, his heart hammering in his chest.

  To his surprise, a stranger answered the door. It was a woman, young, with a baby on her hip, her hair mussed, and she looked distinctly frazzled and slightly irritated at being disturbed.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Ma’am.” He tipped his hat at her, and then was at a loss. He’d grown up in this home. Why would his parents leave it behind? “I, ah, I’m looking for the Worthingtons. They lived here a while back, I think?”

  She gave him an odd look, and for a moment, his heart stopped. A gamut of awful scenarios flashed through his mind. His parents weren’t here because they’d died. They were in a nursing home. Cancer. Dread roared through him like an oncoming wave, and he could barely make out what she was saying.

  House built. End of Pearson Road.

  Right. Okay. Whew. With a distracted nod, he thanked her and got back into his truck.

  Dustin’s hands gripped the steering wheel, and he realized he was in a cold sweat. He hadn’t thought about something happening to his parents. He’d thought they’d always be there, waiting for him when he was ready to say hello again. He didn’t think that things would change for them, too. That life went on without him.

  What an incredibly weird and selfish thing to realize. Maybe Annie had been right to push him away until he found himself.

  That disturbing thought on his mind, Dustin drove a couple of streets over and found the house the woman had mentioned. He pulled up to it, a little surprised at the sight. It was a very new, one-floor sprawling rancher with a charming Italian villa design and slate roof. The grounds were manicured with shaped rose bushes and a decorative gate that led up the winding walkway to the front door. Perhaps he had the wrong house again.

  Dustin got out of his truck anyhow and went to the door. Before he could second-guess himself, he rang the doorbell and waited, a worried knot in his gut. What if this wasn’t them, either? What then?

  “Coming,” a woman called out, and he recognized the sound of his mother’s voice. A wave of homesickness washed over him suddenly, and he felt like a sixteen-year-old boy once more.

  The door opened before he was ready, and then he was staring face-to-face with the mother that he hadn’t seen in over ten years, hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t emailed. Her hair was grayer, her face a little more lined with crow’s feet at the edges, but she was still familiar and beautiful in the way that all mothers were.

  “Hi, Mom,” he managed hoarsely at the shocked look on her face.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Her gaze moved up and down over him, taking in the boots, jeans, the flannel shirt, the cowboy hat on his head. “Oh . . . you’ve gone and become a cowboy, Dustin.”

  A smile tugged at his face. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  She burst into tears, and he immediately moved forward and put his arms around her.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He didn’t say what for. There were a million things he was sorry for right now—sorry for running away, for never calling, for being a shitty son. Mostly he was sorry for making her cry, and the realization that he’d probably made her cry dozens of times wondering about him.

  “It’s all right, really,” she managed, but she clung to him.

  “Adella?”

  Dustin heard the sound of another familiar voice coming down the hall, and he pulled away from his mother, his throat tight as his father appeared. John Worthington looked just as Dustin remembered—a little grayer, a little older, but the same tall, proud shoulders and lean build. He didn’t look sick or unwell and Dustin was so damn glad at how lucky he was that he launched himself into the older man’s arms.

  “Dad.”

  “My boy.” He said warmly, hugging Dustin, and then he was home for the first time in forever.

  * * *

  • • •

  If nothing else good came out of Annie leaving, Dustin was glad that he’d come home. His parents had missed him and kept track of him quietly from afar, using social media and the occasional private investigator to make sure he was doing well. It surprised him to hear it, but he was glad they weren’t worrying over his safety. They’d d
one well themselves—a few years after Dustin had left home, they’d sold the dry-cleaning business to a chain and now his father dabbled in the stock market. They were doing very well for themselves, and took vacations all over Europe a few times a year. They’d had a new house built with a design his mother had fallen in love with back in Tuscany, but they’d stayed in Iowa because “it was home.”

  “Just because plans get delayed doesn’t mean they get delayed forever,” his father told him. “Your mother and I have the time to travel and the money, more so than we ever did before. Dreams don’t go away. Sometimes it’s okay to tell yourself that right now is the time to settle in and wait.”

  Wise words. Dustin grinned ruefully, because in that moment, he felt more like his father’s son than he ever had.

  “I met someone,” he told them. “Her name’s Annie and we’re going to have a baby.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Nearly a week later, Dustin drove through Los Angeles traffic, trying to keep an open mind about the place.

  Visiting his parents had been real nice. There was no resentment, no guilt. They understood why he’d left even if he’d hurt them by doing it. It had bothered them more that he kept out of touch, and he resolved to not do so again. They’d exchanged phone numbers and he promised to not be a stranger any longer. They offered to come visit when the baby arrived, and he told them he’d clear it with Annie first, but he didn’t think she’d mind if his parents showed up.

  Heck, she’d probably love it.

  It was strange to be “with” Annie and be apart. His feelings hadn’t changed. They texted all week long, though he hadn’t found the way to mention that he was visiting his family. He felt like if he mentioned it in a text, it’d feel like he was trying to score points and he didn’t want her to feel pressured.

  Going home was good, though. Well, it was home and it wasn’t. His parents felt comfortable and right, but the house would never be what he remembered and the town was different. It was just the place he grew up, and he wouldn’t be staying there, either. If Los Angeles didn’t work out, he’d be returning to Price Ranch and sticking around for a while longer, because home wasn’t a place as much as it was people, and he was learning to appreciate having a “home” instead of just a bed to sleep in.

  But first . . . he had to try Los Angeles, because that was where Annie was, and he wanted to be with her. She was his home, her and Morgan both, and if she wouldn’t stay with him in Wyoming, maybe he’d try California.

  Emphasis on “try.”

  Los Angeles was . . . very different. It was crowded and warm, with so much traffic that it shocked him even though he’d expected it. It was expensive. Parts of it were dirty and other parts just ostentatious and ridiculous. Los Angeles itself seemed to sprawl for an eternity before he found Annie’s neighborhood, and he found himself missing the mountains of Wyoming and the wide-open spaces. There’d be a gentle snow on the ground right about now, perfect for a hot cup of coffee before starting his morning, and the mountain air would be crisp and biting. It’d be perfect . . . if Annie was curled up in his bed.

  So. Los Angeles it was.

  Annie’s neighborhood was as crowded as the last few he’d driven through, the houses older but charming. The yards were ridiculously tiny, and when he pulled up to the house she shared with her mother, he checked the address again just to make sure it was the right one. Place didn’t seem big enough for a dog, much less two people. But the address was correct, so he went to the door and gave it a shot.

  A woman answered, her age indeterminate. She was older than Annie but looked much younger than his own mother. Her hair was blonde and fell in perfect waves, her skin porcelain, and she wore an absolute mega-ton of makeup and jewelry. She carried a wineglass despite the early hour and gave him a curious look. “I know who you are,” she said immediately. “This is interesting.”

  “I came looking for Annie, though I didn’t expect to find she had a sister.” Dustin gave her his most winning smile.

  She only cocked an eyebrow at him. “Annie told me you were a charmer. I see she was right. You can call me Kitty,” she told him. “Never ‘ma’am’ or Ms. Grissom or anything that sounds elderly.” She gave a light shudder.

  “Nice to meet you, Kitty.” He took off his hat and tried not to peer behind her. “Is Annie around?”

  Kitty wandered away from the front door, taking tottering steps in an enormous pair of spike heels. “She’s playing with dogs at the park or some such. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me you’d be coming by. Wine? Beer?”

  “No thank you.” He followed her inside. “I didn’t exactly tell her that I was coming. Thought I’d check out Los Angeles for myself since Annie lives here.”

  “Because you’re thinking about moving to the area?” she asked shrewdly, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Not a lot of ranchers in this area I’m afraid, though you might make a fair penny modeling for a while.” She turned and gave him a scrutinizing look that made his ears heat, especially when it lingered on his chest . . . and lower. “Though you’re going to wrinkle like a piece of old linen if you don’t start putting sunblock on that pretty face of yours. Just some friendly advice.”

  Damn. This woman was a piece of work. “I will keep that in mind, Kitty.”

  She leaned against the counter, studying him. “What are your intentions toward my daughter exactly? I’m curious.”

  “Well.” He wondered how bluntly honest he should be with her, and then decided to just speak his mind. “I love her. I want to be in her life. If she doesn’t want to be with me in Wyoming, I figured I’d come here and be close to her until she’s ready to accept that I’m not miserable and I’m not leaving.”

  Kitty winked at him. “That’s a very good answer. My daughter can be a bit stubborn, you know.”

  “I like her stubbornness.”

  “She never grew up with a father so I think she expects all men to run off at the first whiff of a baby.” Kitty shook her head and downed her wine. “I suppose that’s my fault. I’ve always tried to show her that you don’t need a man to have a fulfilling life, but maybe I went too far overboard and now she thinks she has to be alone, even when she doesn’t want to be.”

  “I’ve made my share of mistakes,” Dustin admitted. “But I’m hoping Annie and I can meet somewhere in the middle for Morgan’s sake.”

  “Morgan?” Kitty stared at him blankly.

  “The baby?”

  “Ah, she’s picked out a name? I didn’t know.”

  Was it something Annie had only shared with him, then? He liked that. “I hate to cut this short, Kitty, but I mean to tell your daughter that I love her and propose to her again. And if she won’t have me, I need to find a hotel nearby. So do you think you can direct me to this dog park . . . ?”

  Kitty smirked at him, pouring herself a new glass of wine. “If I must. Can I come watch?”

  “I’d prefer to talk to her alone.”

  She just sighed dramatically.

  * * *

  • • •

  Turned out there was a dog park “downtown”—the word meant nothing to him given that all of Los Angeles felt like “downtown” to a country boy—but with his phone app, he managed to find the place. It was just as crowded as any other place in this ridiculous city, but he spotted a pregnant woman near the entrance and parked his truck hastily, then jogged out to meet her.

  To his surprise, Annie had no less than eight dogs on leashes in one hand, being dragged forward at a quick (for a pregnant woman) waddle as she headed down the street.

  “Annie,” he called out as she headed in the opposite direction from him, her concentration elsewhere. “Wait up!”

  She paused, swayed, and the dogs jerked her forward again. Dustin raced to her side and managed to snag the leashes before she lost control, and then wrapped an arm a
round her hips to support her.

  “Dustin,” she breathed, clearly shocked. “What . . .”

  The dogs jerked at his arm, two of them snapping at each other in their eagerness to run. “Where the hell’d you find so many dogs?” He asked, picking Spidey out from the bunch, his white coat obvious. “Did you adopt all these while I was gone?”

  A breathless laugh tumbled from her. “What? No. I’m testing the waters to see if I want to start a dog-walking business.” She leaned against him gratefully.

  “What’s the verdict on that?” he asked, struggling to keep control of the beasts.

  “I’m thinking it’s a no,” Annie told him, and buried her face against his shoulder. “Dustin . . . what are you doing here?”

  “Well, right now I’m holding back what feels like the hounds of hell because they want to be set loose on the streets of LA.” Good lord, now another pair were fighting, and the entire cluster was tugging at his arm as if they wanted to rip it off. How had his tiny woman managed to keep them under control?

  She giggled, the sound light and sweet and it tugged at his heartstrings. “I meant here, in Los Angeles, silly.” Her hand moved to his chest, over his heart. “Not that I mind. I . . . I love seeing you here.”

  “I love seeing you, too. Now how do we get rid of these dogs so we can have a talk?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Dustin was here. In Los Angeles. He’d come to see her.

  Annie’s heart wouldn’t stop fluttering.

  It continued to jitter nervously in her breast as they walked the mob of dogs back to their collective owners, and it struck out an entirely new samba when he linked his fingers with hers as he held Spidey’s leash in his other hand. They walked to a nearby dog-friendly restaurant and sat out on the patio to have some sunshine and privacy, Spidey parking himself in a chair opposite them as if he were one of the diners. She gave him a peanut butter bone to keep him busy, but she shouldn’t have bothered. He was giving Dustin so many adoring looks with his big dark eyes that she knew he wouldn’t go anywhere.

 

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