Baby-Daddy Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 3)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  “Good call.”

  “Pulling out all the stops, are you?”

  “You know what I’m up against. Wouldn’t you?”

  “I suppose I would.” He gazed at him. “I feel for you, bro. Thank God I’m way past the torture you’re going through.”

  “Worth it, though, right?”

  “Absolutely worth it. But at the time I had my doubts.”

  “I’ve got you beat, then. I have no doubts. And I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Okay, sis. The worst is over.”

  “I won’t relax until Fred gets it running.” Isabel glanced at the time. Ten to six. Lucy would show up at six to escort her over to Henri’s.

  “Fred will be here any minute,” Naomi said. “While the guys put the door back on, I’ll walk around your new roaster so you can see for yourself it arrived in perfect shape.”

  “That would be great.” She focused on the screen. “Move back a little. Good. Terrific view. It really does look new. Now it just has to work.”

  “It will.” The voice was familiar.

  “Bob Kennedy? Is that you?”

  “It’s him.” Naomi swung the phone toward Bob, who gave her a wave. He looked to be in his sixties, fit and attractive. Naomi turned the phone around and her face filled the screen. “Bob’s a sweetheart. He followed the truck down to make sure everything went like clockwork.”

  “Which it didn’t, of course,” Bob said, although he sounded cheerful about it.

  “Bob’s smiling.” Naomi turned the phone in his direction. “He’s been good for morale.”

  “Your sister is, too, Isabel,” Bob said. “Great business you have here. Since I attempted this and gave it up as too much work, I can imagine the hours you’ve spent creating such a successful venue.”

  “Thank you. I have put in a lot of blood, sweat and tears. Naomi, too. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

  “Thanks, Izzy. That’s sweet. Hey, Fred’s here!” She moved the phone again. “Say hi to Izzy, Fred.”

  “Hey, Isabel.” His craggy face appeared on the screen. “Don’t worry about a thing. Because the roaster’s been in service, it won’t need to be seasoned. You can put it straight into production, like you did with the previous one. Saves time.”

  Isabel blinked. “That’s true. I can’t believe I didn’t remember that.”

  “I did.” Naomi sounded a little smug, which was her right.

  “Naomi, you’re a genius. Now if Fred can get things rolling…”

  Naomi’s face appeared in the screen. “He’s on it. But Lucy’s due any minute, right?”

  “She just tapped on the door. She’s a little early. I’ll ask her if we can wait until the roaster’s operational before we leave. Hang on a sec.” She went to the door and opened it.

  Lucy was decked out like a rhinestone cowgirl, sparkles on her shirt and on her jeans. She pointed to the phone Isabel held in her hand. “Naomi?”

  “Yeah.” Isabel stood back and beckoned her in. “Our maintenance guy is hooking up the new roaster. Could you please text Henri and tell her we’ll be there as soon as the roaster is working? Shouldn’t be long.”

  “Glad to.” She stepped inside and pulled out her phone.

  “Tell Lucy hi for me,” Naomi said.

  “You can tell her hi, yourself.” Isabel waiting until Lucy finished with her text before handing over her phone. “Naomi wants to say hello.”

  “Sure thing. Hey, Naomi! I hear you’re working miracles in that coffee shop.”

  While Lucy chatted with Naomi, Isabel took several deep breaths and rolled her tight shoulders. If the next few minutes went well, the crisis would be over.

  Lucy chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll bet. But you pulled it out of the fire, girlfriend.”

  Lucy clearly admired Naomi’s response in a difficult situation. Rightly so. She’d tackled the issue head-on, listened to valuable advice from Fred, a trusted colleague, and taken decisive action. Maybe it was time to ask her if she wanted in as a full partner.

  “l’ll turn you back over to Izzy,” Lucy said. “Take care, Naomi, and congratulations.” Lucy held out the phone. “You might want to charge this soon.”

  Isabel glanced at the battery indicator. “God, you’re right. This is twice now I’ve let it run way down. I never do that.” She focused on Naomi. “How’s Fred doing?”

  “He’s almost got it.”

  “Has the shop been busy this afternoon?”

  “It was until recently, but it’s slow now, thank goodness. The tech conference folks have some big-deal dinner tonight. They’ll be back around nine, but this drama will be over by then, so we…wait…woo-hoo! Iz, the roaster works like a charm!”

  “Thank the Lord.” Isabel let out a breath. “Give Fred another hug for me.”

  “I will!” Naomi turned off the video. “We’re having a hug fest with everybody, Izzy—Fred, Bob, George, me. In a few minutes, I’ll invite the rest of the staff back here. They’ve been on pins and needles.”

  “Haven’t we all. Maybe we should throw a staff party when I get back. And Fred’s invited.”

  “How about me?” Bob called out.

  “You, too, Bob.”

  “We’re all up for a party,” Naomi said. “Can’t wait to see you again, sis.”

  “Same here, Naomi. I’m so grateful for you.”

  “I wasn’t about to let the shop go to hell while you were gone.”

  “Obviously! Have yourself a nice, relaxing evening.”

  “You, two, Iz. Are you seeing CJ tonight?”

  “Yes. After the shower.”

  “I’m glad. ’Bye, sis. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. See you soon.” She disconnected the call and went in search of her charger. Where was it? Ah. Kitchen counter.

  Should she take her phone and the charger to Henri’s? No. Naomi had the situation in hand. Even if some issue cropped up, she’d handle it. What a relief.

  She glanced at Lucy and smiled. “Let’s party!”

  * * *

  Picking the roses and gathering petals had taken CJ longer than he’d anticipated, but he finished before anyone arrived for the baby shower. Henri had loaned him a water-filled vase for the roses and a bowl for the petals. He drove back to the bunkhouse with the vase wedged between his thighs so it wouldn’t dump.

  Leo and Garrett were fixing what smelled like fried chicken. CJ’s stomach rumbled. “Smells great.” He walked into the kitchen carrying the vase and bowl.

  Garrett had two skillets going. He glanced over his shoulder. “Aw, you shouldn’t have.”

  “He really shouldn’t have,” Leo said. “Those are Henri’s roses. I hope you asked her first, bro.”

  “I asked and she even loaned me a vase, but they’re not for you guys. I want to leave them in the fridge while I pick up some other things in town.”

  “Dinner’s in fifteen minutes,” Garrett said. “Might as well stay for some chicken and potato salad.”

  “Can’t. Need to get to the market before it closes.” He set the vase and bowl on the counter while he made room for them in the fridge.

  “Maybe we have whatever it is you’re going after,” Leo said. “You could replace it later.”

  “I’d bet my next paycheck we don’t have any fake champagne.”

  “Ah.” Garrett smiled. “Now the rose petals make more sense. You’re planning a welcome home for Isabel.”

  “That’s the plan.” Tucking the vase next to the hard cider and the bowl behind a large one filled with potato salad, he started to close the door and paused. “Can I have some potato salad?”

  “By all means,” Leo said. “You need to keep up your strength.”

  CJ shot him a look before grabbing a bowl from the cupboard and spoon from the silverware drawer. He scooped out a generous portion, replaced the serving bowl and shut the fridge door. “The thing is, I’ve never set up a romantic scene before.” He dug into his potato sa
lad.

  “You’ve got a good start,” Garrett said. “Pretty roses and extra petals to scatter around.”

  “But where do I scatter them? Jake suggested getting some but he was clueless about the deployment.” He shoved another spoonful into his mouth.

  Leo shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’ve never set up a romantic scene, either. That’s what happens, or rather what doesn’t happen, when you live in a bunkhouse.”

  “Depends on how many rose petals you have.” Garrett picked up tongs and started turning the chicken. “I didn’t get a good look at that bowl.”

  CJ chewed and swallowed. “I didn’t count, but I’d estimate I have about twenty-five or thirty petals.”

  “Then you don’t want to waste them making a trail from the door to the bed. That’s an option, but only if you have two or three times that many.”

  “Had to cut the gathering detail short so early arrivals wouldn’t see my ass sticking out of the bushes.”

  Leo ducked his head.

  “Go ahead and laugh, bro. I was laughing at myself, down on all fours pawing through dead leaves to find viable petals. Especially when I don’t know what the hell to do with them.”

  Garrett flipped the last few pieces of chicken and turned away from the stove. “Fold back the top sheet and sprinkle them over the bottom sheet.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. They’ll smell nice and the red will look pretty against the white sheets.”

  “Shouldn’t I wash them, first?”

  Leo’s shoulders began to shake and he let out a snort.

  “I know that sounds ridiculous, but these came off the ground and I’m pretty sure Henri uses manure on those roses.”

  “That’s a valid point I hadn’t considered.” Garrett looked like he was ready to lose it, too. He cleared his throat. “Finish your potato salad and take off. We’ll wash the rose petals and have them waiting for you.”

  “You’ll really wash them, right? You won’t just say you did.”

  “We’ll really wash them. We’ll—”

  “Wait!” Leo’s eyes widened. “You can’t wash them in the sink, dude. He’s right about the manure.”

  “Then we’ll wash them in the shower.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  “I say CJ should forget the petals, or pluck some off the ones in the vase.”

  “No way am I plucking those roses baldheaded. Not after I stuck myself about twenty times cutting them and putting them in the vase. Gonna hurt like hell next time I play my guitar.”

  “No worries, CJ,” Garrett said. “Leo and I will wash the ones in the bowl.”

  “Better wash the bowl good, too,” Leo muttered, “or you’ll have cross-contamination.”

  CJ sighed. “This rose petal thing better be worth it.”

  “It is.” Garrett turned back to the stove.

  “Why?” He went to the sink and rinsed his bowl.

  Garrett glanced at him. “You’ll find out.”

  “If you say so. Thanks for washing the petals. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”

  “We could save you a couple pieces of chicken,” Leo said.

  “Thanks, but the potato salad will do. I’ll need to shower and shave before I head over there and I want to leave myself plenty of time to set up before she gets back.”

  “You didn’t ask someone to text you when she’s leaving the party?”

  “No, and by now everyone’s there so I don’t want to text anybody now.”

  “Kate’s not there yet. She can’t leave until the guest dining room’s shipshape.”

  “Good thinking, Leo.” CJ pulled out his phone and sent the request. Kate texted him a thumbs-up. “Thanks, guys. I didn’t think this would turn out to be so complicated.”

  “That’s love for you,” Garrett said.

  “Yep.” No point in denying he was in up to his eyeballs. “But tonight’s designed to simplify things.” He hurried out to his truck and headed for town.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Third time’s a charm.” Isabel held a mixing bowl full of dried rice in her lap. Signaling Lucy to start the timer, she closed her eyes and plunged her hand into the rice. “I have you, my pretty!” She slid a safety pin to the rim of the bowl. Except it wasn’t a pin. Just a few grains of rice. “Auugghh!”

  Josette threw her hands in the air. “C’est diabolique!”

  “You said it.” Isabel handed the bowl to Ed, the last contestant. “Can’t believe I couldn’t locate one out of…how many?”

  “I put in twenty,” Pam said. “But now there’s only nineteen since I….”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Peggy stretched her long legs in front of her and took a sip from her hard cider. “Admit it. You practiced all afternoon.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m blessed with a sophisticated sense of touch.” Pam had pinned it to the collar of her Western shirt like a badge. It winked in the light from paper lanterns strung overhead in Henri’s backyard.

  “I’m sure as hell practicing before we play this again,” Red grumbled. “And we are playing it again next week so I can redeem myself.”

  “I vote for that,” Henri said. “We’ll save the rice and pins in a Ziploc and schedule a rematch next week.”

  “I volunteer to keep the Ziploc,” Millie toyed casually with a lock of her red hair, her expression innocent.

  “Nice try, girlfriend.” Kate grinned. “You don’t get the rice and pins.”

  “Technically they’re my rice and pins,” Pam said. “So I should—”

  “Sorry.” Peggy shook her head. “This rice and pin combo is hereby declared the official property of the Babes. It goes in Henri’s safe.”

  “Ah,” Josette said, “but can Henri be trusted?”

  “I can, but I couldn’t cram one more thing in that safe. Unless you want to tuck the bag of rice inside our autographed Tim McGraw Stetson.”

  A chorus of noooo ended that discussion.

  “We’ll let the Brotherhood keep it.” Pam walked over to a washtub full of drinks and pulled out a bottle of cider. “Isabel, can I offer you a virgin one of these?”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  After twisting off the top, Pam brought it over. “I’m sorry you didn’t find a pin. It’s harder than it looks. I—”

  “Got it!” Ed held up a safety pin. “On the second try! Which means I get one more chance.” She pinned the trophy on her collar and signaled Lucy. “Go.” She shoved her hand in the rice.

  All conversation stopped. The only sounds were the chirp of crickets and the rustle of Ed sifting the rice.

  “Bingo!” Ed held up a second pin. Grinning in triumph, she stuck it on the other side of her collar. “Now I’m balanced.”

  Pam stared at her in open-mouthed shock. “You said you’d never played this!”

  “That’s a fact. I like it, though. Fun game.”

  “Only you, Ed.” Peggy gave her a bemused smile. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

  “Tons of things. Evidently this isn’t one of them.”

  “I’ve played this a bunch of times,” Pam said. “I’ve never seen a first-timer snag two pins.”

  Ed settled back in her lawn chair. “Well, now you have. What do I get?”

  “Oh!” Henri left her chair. “I forgot I picked up something for prizes. Be right back.”

  Ed leaned over toward Isabel. “I love getting prizes.”

  “I understand you’ve won quite a few.”

  “Last month she got another trophy,” Josette said. “Took first place in a barrel racing competition in Billings.”

  “Your third place is nothing to sneeze at, Josie.” Ed gave her a thumbs-up. “And the rest of you were this close to placing.” She measured a fraction of an inch with her fingers. “Next time you’ll—”

  “Ta-da! Here comes your prize!” Henri sashayed out of the house with a plush moose about eight inches tall balanced on a fancy silver tray.<
br />
  “Awesome!” Ed clapped her hands together. “I’ve been meaning to buy one of those ever since Ben got them in at the Moose!”

  “Now you don’t have to.” Henri held out the tray. “Your Choosy Moose, madam.”

  “Thank you.” Ed picked up the moose. “Is this a male or a female?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters. I need to choose a name.”

  “Let me see it.” Red came over, took the moose and turned it bottoms up. “You’d better go gender neutral.”

  “Okay. Then Merle Moose it is.”

  “Great idea, Henri,” Peggy said. “I forgot we’d need prizes. We can all settle up with you later.”

  “No settling necessary. When Ben found out what this was for, he donated several to the cause.”

  “Because he’s sweet on you.” Ed tucked the moose next to her hip. “You need to put the poor man out of his misery.”

  Henri laughed. “You want me to shoot him?”

  “I want you to date him. I hate to see such a lovely man suffer that way.”

  “We’ve known each other too long. Dating him would be weird.” Henri glanced around. “Who’s ready for the next game?”

  “Me,” Isabel said. “I want a moose.”

  * * *

  An hour later, after hugging everyone and thanking them about a thousand times, Isabel climbed in the passenger seat of Millie’s sedan with a bag of shower gifts and a plush moose. Since Lucy was staying for the sleepover, Millie had offered to drop Isabel off on her way home.

  “I had such a great time, Millie.” Isabel sighed and leaned back against the seat. “I can’t imagine a more fun baby shower.”

  “Thank goodness the weather held and we could put up the lanterns. I plan to string lanterns on the porch of our cabin as soon as we’re done applying the finish.”

  “I saw your place through the trees today, but Jake had to point it out. He told me what the perpendicular log style is called, but I’ve already forgotten it.”

  “Palisade. That was one thing we agreed on right away. Other things, we’ve had to hammer out.”