Falling for the Cowboy Dad

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Falling for the Cowboy Dad Page 10

by Patricia Johns


  “Tracy wasn’t afraid to chase him down. I mean, bad for him or not, she was pretty up-front about what she wanted. The others waited for him to pursue.” Heather sighed. “I wish he would have listened to me. I could have saved him from a whole lot of heartbreak.”

  That was true—Tracy had definitely made her feelings clear.

  “Well...you learn more from life experience than your mom’s advice, right?” Grace said ruefully. “But it made me realize that I’d better get my own life together. Billy is too easy to...” She stopped. She was saying too much.

  “Oh, he wraps us all around his little finger,” Heather said with a small smile. “He’s always been adorable that way.”

  Grace met Heather’s gaze and shrugged. “All I’m saying is, he comes back around. It’s his way.”

  “But will you stick around long enough for him to get back your old friendship?” Heather asked, and Grace felt her cheeks heat. “So, you won’t.”

  “No.” Grace dropped her gaze. “I need a husband and family of my own.”

  “Understood,” Heather replied, taking another sip of her coffee. “I’m the one person who can really understand that. Finding a good guy can be hard work, and frankly Billy always stood in the way of that for you. Not that he’d actually say anything to other guys, but he made his presence in your life pretty palpable.”

  “Yeah...” He’d been territorial, and she’d never minded because she’d known that under that protective stance was a deeper emotional connection.

  “You’ll land a great guy,” Heather said with a grin. “I did—at long last! You’re beautiful—always were. But now you’re positively glowing, Gracie, so keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. It’s working for you.”

  “Thanks,” Grace said.

  Heather glanced down at her watch. “I’ve got to get going. I have some errands to run before my shift this afternoon, and I’m cutting it close.”

  “Thanks for the chat,” Grace said.

  Heather gathered her things and put on her coat. “If you think of anything else my granddaughter needs, let me know, okay?”

  “Will do.” Grace lifted her cup in a farewell as Heather headed toward the door.

  That hadn’t been the first time she was told that she was glowing in the last few days, and she was mildly afraid that the “glow” came from her own delusion with Billy all over again. He made her feel safe and secure, valued and fun. He woke her up in ways that no one else—friend or lover—ever could.

  If she’d started to glow because she’d been hanging out with Billy on a daily basis, then it was a sure sign she needed to get her emotions under control. His mother was right—Billy could wind any woman around his finger. Grace couldn’t do this again. She’d been right three years ago to distance herself from Billy, and Tracy’s dumping him didn’t change a thing. Grace still needed to build her own life and find her own happiness.

  Her crush on Billy had gone on long enough.

  * * *

  BILLY PUSHED THE cart through the Walmart, with Poppy in the main section of the cart, being too big to fit into the toddler seat. But she’d wanted to ride all the same. Her boots dripped melted snow down through the slats, and Billy felt his anxiety rise as he headed through the menswear department, past the women’s and toward the kids’ section. Other dads would know what they were doing—or at the very least would have the instructions given by the moms. But Billy was on his own here. Poppy had worn holes in the knees of her favorite tights, and she wanted another pair. She also needed socks, some long johns to keep her warm in a Colorado winter and another couple of long-sleeved shirts.

  “What size are you, Poppy?” Billy asked.

  Poppy shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m big enough.”

  “Huh.” He eyed her speculatively. “Come here. I’m going to check the tag on your shirt.”

  He stopped the cart and checked the tag. If there was a simple S, M or L, he’d be fine. How did kids’ sizes work? But whatever had been written on it had been washed off in the laundry long ago. He sighed.

  “How much do you grow?” he asked, shooting her a teasing grin.

  “Daddy, I don’t know these things,” Poppy said seriously. “But I need tights!”

  “Yeah, tights. I know.”

  He glanced around the store. There were a couple of workers—both dashing in opposite directions. He stopped at a wall covered in packages of girls’ socks and underwear. An older woman was watching him with pursed lips, and he wheeled the cart determinedly past the underwear. Yeah, his kid would need this stuff, but he wasn’t exactly comfortable shopping for it on his own yet.

  In the past, he’d called Grace when he felt out of his depth, but was that an option anymore?

  “Hold on,” he said. “I’m going to try something.”

  Billy pulled out his phone and dialed Grace’s number. Maybe she could help him make sense of this. Once he knew what he was looking for, maybe he could get Poppy to read labels and look for the right sizes herself. Some independence was good for kids, right?

  The phone rang twice, and then Grace picked up.

  “Billy?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” he said. “How busy are you?”

  “Um.” There was silence for a moment. “I’m not doing much. Why?”

  “Thing is, I’m at Walmart, and I have to pick up some stuff for Poppy, and I don’t know how to shop for things like tights. I was wondering if you might want to give me a hand?”

  He winced, waiting. In years past, she would have been here in a heartbeat—he’d always been able to count on her for pretty much anything. But now things were different, and he knew he didn’t have the right to favors anymore.

  “Why don’t you call your mom?” she asked. “I have a feeling she’d like to be needed.”

  “She’s working this afternoon,” he said. “So I called you.”

  Not his entire reason, but it would have to do.

  “I’ll come, but only if you make me a deal,” she said.

  “Okay?”

  “I want you to call your mother up and ask her for help with something,” Grace said.

  “With what?” he asked with a frown.

  “Anything. She needs you to need her, too, Billy, and I’m not going to be around for long, so you’d better get your support network up and running.”

  He sighed, and shut his eyes for a beat. His relationship with his mother was complicated, and no one seemed to understand that.

  “Fine,” he agreed.

  “A grandmother can be incredibly useful, you know,” she added.

  Yeah, he was clear on that. But his relationship with his mom was strained for some good reasons, and he’d called Grace because she was he first one to pop into his head—the one he wanted to see, if he had to be honest. The one he’d been missing for the last three years.

  “Are you coming or not?” he asked irritably.

  “I’m just coming out of the hardware store,” she admitted, and he could hear the rueful smile in her voice. The hardware store was right next to Walmart. “Dad needed more duct tape, and I needed to get out.”

  “Good. So I’m not actually bugging you. Come to the kids’ department. I’m the one standing around, looking confused.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Billy hung up and looked down at Poppy, who was gazing at him curiously. The older woman had circled around, but she still seemed to be watching him. He met her gaze, and the woman quickly looked away.

  “Miss Beverly is going to give us a hand,” Billy said.

  Poppy nodded sagely. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  Billy wandered up and down a few aisles—most of which seemed to have baby stuff—until he spotted Grace. She was dressed in a pair of close-fitting gray pants, knee-high black leather boots and a red wool
en winter coat that reached just past her hips. She looked...intimidatingly good.

  She looked like a woman who had her life together, who dressed to impress. He’d never associated that with Grace before, and he felt the disparity between them right now. But when she shot him a grin, it was the same old Grace, and he felt the smile forming on his lips in return.

  “So, you’re lost in the kids’ section, are you?” Grace said as she walked up. She hitched her purse a little higher on her shoulder and gave Poppy a smile. “Hi, Poppy.”

  “Hi, Miss Beverly,” Poppy said with a shy smile.

  “Yes, I’m lost,” Billy admitted. “Thanks for coming.”

  “So, what are you looking for?” she asked.

  “Tights. I need new ones,” Poppy said from her spot in the cart. “And I need long johns, Daddy says, so I can be warmer. And I want a hair band.”

  “A hair band?” Billy said, looking down at his daughter. “Since when?”

  Poppy’s list just seemed to get longer, and his anxiety rose another notch. Not only did he have no idea about girl things, he didn’t have a lot of extra money, either. Ranch hands weren’t paid a whole lot.

  “Since now,” Poppy replied. “I want a hair band to hold back my hair like a lady’s.”

  “Ah.” Billy looked up at Grace.

  “I know what she’s talking about,” Grace said. “And they’re cheap.”

  “Yeah, I’m not worried about the money,” he said with a short laugh. But he was. Already this little girl was costing him more than he’d ever imagined. Still, he didn’t want to refuse her the regular kid stuff. If she wanted a hair band, then she would have it.

  “First things first—tights,” he said, and Grace headed off down an aisle. “Do you know where you’re going?”

  “We’ll figure it out.” She shot him a grin. “You look seriously daunted by this, Billy. It’s not so bad.”

  “It’s the sizes, mostly,” he admitted.

  “Oh.” The smile dropped from her lips. “Because of the size charts and all that... Look, even if there weren’t other challenges, those charts are a boggle if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Right now she’s four, so she’ll be size four. Unless she were big or small for her age, but she’s a pretty average four-year-old from my experience.”

  “Oh.” Billy nodded. “That’s not so bad.”

  “Not really,” she agreed.

  “So, what’s with you championing my mother all of a sudden?” he asked as they headed down another aisle.

  “I saw her today at Dark Roast,” she replied. “We had a visit.”

  “Great.” He eyed her for a moment, unsure if this was a good thing or not. “What did she say?”

  “She misses you,” Grace replied. “She’s your mother!”

  “Yeah, well, not everyone has a cute and balanced relationship with their mom like you do,” he replied.

  Grace didn’t answer that, but she stopped in front of a display of little square, clear-wrapped packages.

  “What color, Poppy?” Grace asked.

  Billy watched as they decided on two pairs—one pink and one white.

  “She did her best, though,” Grace said as they started walking again. “And she said you never came back to visit. At all.”

  “Did you?” he countered.

  “Of course,” she said. “I came for Christmas, my dad’s birthday, Mother’s Day... It was only a couple of hours’ drive.”

  “I was going to come see Mom once,” Billy said. “I called up to see if it would be a good time. You kind of expect your mother to be flexible, you know?”

  “And she wasn’t?” Grace asked.

  “She had a big date,” he replied.

  “With Gerald,” Grace said.

  “Does it even matter which guy?” Billy shook his head. “There was always some guy she was enthralled with.”

  “So you reschedule!” Grace said.

  “Like I said, it’s not the same as your parents, Grace.” He nodded toward some mittens and gloves. “Probably need more than one pair of mitts, right?”

  “Probably,” she agreed, but she eyed him sympathetically for a moment. “Gerald has stuck around, you know.”

  “So everyone knows about him?” Billy asked.

  “He’s newer to town—he bought the fish and chip place, so we kind of know who he is. He seems really decent, and he took a shine to your mom pretty fast. She was more cautious. I’ve only chatted with her a few times, but she seems to be in love.”

  In love. Wasn’t she always? And the little boy who’d loved her with his whole heart had never been enough to keep her home.

  “Do you know how many school performances my mom came to?” he asked, stopping close enough for Poppy to be able to reach the mittens.

  “I know...she wasn’t really hands-on when it came to school.”

  “She wasn’t always working, either,” Billy said. “A lot of times, she had a date with some guy from the bar, and she’d send me to my concert with the neighbor who had a kid in my grade—a girl I couldn’t stand because she teased me constantly. So they’d take me to and from, and Mom would go out with whichever guy was more important than me that month. It was the same with soccer practice. She sent me with the coach, who lived on our street. I don’t think she ever saw me play one game.”

  Grace put a hand on his arm. “I’m not saying she was right, Billy.”

  “Then what are you saying?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know...” She shrugged weakly. “I just... I guess I felt sorry for her. She feels really out of the loop when it comes to you and Poppy.”

  “Well, I’m pretty out of the loop for most of her stuff, too,” he replied, and he could hear the bitterness in his own tone. Except part of that was his own fault. He didn’t want to hear about her boyfriends, and he’d stayed away because of them. This Gerald guy...sure, he might be half decent. Frankly it wasn’t about whether the guy was a waste of skin; it was about his mother’s tendency to fall headlong in love with every last one of them. And Billy was tired of standing by and watching it all like a slow-motion train wreck.

  Poppy chose a pair of mittens—fluffy and warm looking—and Billy looked at the price. Seriously? That’s what tiny pink mitts were going for?

  “Uh—what about these ones?” he said, picking up another pair with a better price.

  “I like the fuzzy ones,” she said plaintively.

  “Yeah, well, maybe next time, kiddo. If you want a head band...”

  Poppy sighed. “Okay.”

  Billy pushed the cart forward again, and he saw the older woman, this time with her back to them, sorting through a sale rack.

  “It’s not that I don’t love my mom,” he said, turning to Grace and lowering his voice. “I do. I used to worry about her like crazy, and it drove me nuts.”

  “I remember,” Grace replied softly.

  “I’ll get together with Mom more often,” he conceded. “I’m just trying to figure out how to be a good dad, but I haven’t got a whole lot of role models there. I know that I won’t make the same mistakes my mom did. I’m going to put Poppy first, and I’m not going to be chasing after women.”

  “You never exactly were a skirt chaser,” Grace said with a low laugh.

  “I know, but I’m serious. Poppy’s coming first. Every time. I’m going to be at every school play, every recital, every soccer game... Whatever her jam is, I’ll be there.” He looked down at his daughter, his heart welling up with a love he’d never known was possible. “I’m a dad. Women can wait. I put everything I had into Tracy, and that was no guarantee, was it? But if I put everything I have into raising my daughter, I don’t think that’s a decision I’ll ever regret.”

  He looked over and saw Grace watching him with soulful eyes. Why did she look sad?

&nb
sp; “Excuse me,” a voice came from behind him, and he stopped and turned to find the older woman next to him. Her gaze swept over the three of them, pausing a little longer on Poppy.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “For the fuzzy mittens,” she said hurriedly, and pushed a crisp bill in his direction.

  “No, I—” he started.

  But she dropped the bill into his cart and hurried away. He stood there, feeling like more of a loser than ever. Poppy picked up the money with a grin, and Billy plucked it out of her hands.

  “That was nice of her,” Grace said.

  But it wasn’t. He’d seen the way that woman had been watching him. This was pity, not respect.

  “Can I get the fuzzy mittens?” Poppy asked hopefully.

  “No,” he said curtly, and steered the cart toward the checkout. “And we’re putting that money in the charity box.”

  He didn’t need pity. If that woman wanted to give money to someone who needed it, he could help her out with that. But he wasn’t anyone’s charitable project. He glanced over at Grace, and she was watching him with a cautious expression.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “Nothing.” She smiled faintly. “But you can’t do this alone, Billy.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” he said. She wasn’t sticking around town anyway.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MONDAY WAS UNEVENTFUL, which was good news for a preschool teacher. Grace managed to get her hands on some teaching tools she thought would help Billy, though, and she’d sorted through them during lunch, when another teacher was outside, supervising. These were specifically designed for dyslexic students, but Grace was still filled with misgiving. These were meant for little kids, not grown men, and she wasn’t sure how Billy would react to that. The woman in Walmart yesterday had meant well—or at least that was how it had seemed to Grace—and he’d been offended by her attempt to help. So how was this going to go over?

  When Billy arrived, he was holding a box of donuts in front of him, almost like a shield. Poppy saw him, brightened and skipped toward him.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Billy said, scooping Poppy up in a one-armed hug, the donuts held out to the side. “How was your day?”

 

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