Baby-Daddy Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 3)

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Baby-Daddy Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 3) Page 18

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond


  Henri was at the screen door before he had a chance to knock. “The word’s out, son.” She pushed open the screen and beckoned him inside.

  “That I spent the night drunk and singing a Tim McGraw song over and over?”

  “That, too.” Her smile was kind. “You had your reasons.”

  “Does Izzy know I did that?” He took off his hat.

  “Maybe not. Lucy’s the only one who might tell her. I’m guessing the information went to Matt and no further.”

  “I’d prefer she didn’t find out.” He rubbed his chin. “Pardon the scruff, but my shaving kit’s in her cabin and I—”

  “Never mind. Makes you look rugged.”

  “Especially with my bloodshot eyes.”

  She gazed at him. “Charley showed up at my door once looking the way you do. We’d had a nasty fight and I’d…well, he thought I was through with him.”

  “Why? What did you say?”

  “That our relationship was never going to work.”

  He winced. “Did you mean it?”

  “At the time. I had some rigid thinking going on. But I never wanted to put him through that again. We were married within a month.”

  “If only I could be so lucky. I scheduled this meeting to turn in my resignation, but I didn’t bring it, after all.”

  “Come on into the kitchen. I fixed us each a sandwich.”

  “Henri, you didn’t have to—”

  “It’s not often I get to have lunch with one of my boys. If there’s a chance you’ll be moving on this year, spending time with you is even more precious. I opened a couple of virgin ciders since we’re still on the clock.”

  “Yeah, I may never drink again.” He followed her into her sunny kitchen. “I love this room.” In the early days, they’d had many talks here—Henri alone or Henri and Charley, a double dose of parental wisdom.

  “It’s my favorite room in the house.” She waved him over to a round table that looked out on the backyard. The places were set and the food and drink waiting. “Have a seat.”

  He laughed. “Still testing me, are you?” He walked to her side and pulled out her chair. “If you please, ma’am.”

  She winked at him and slid onto the chair. “Well done. I’ve been told these gestures are old-fashioned, but Charley believed in them, too. When you boys carry on the tradition, it’s like I still have a little bit of him with me.”

  “I can’t think of a better reason to keep it up.” He scooted her in and took the chair opposite her.

  She put her napkin in her lap. “You were going to hand in your resignation. Does that mean you started job-hunting in Seattle?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He settled into the familiar routine of eating a meal with Henri. Cloth napkin in his lap, he waited for her to start. “Got a couple of good responses.”

  “What’s your plan, now?” She picked up her sandwich.

  “That depends.” He’d skipped breakfast and he was starving. But he managed to keep from wolfing down the sandwich.

  “On what?”

  “Whether Rafe and Nick are right that I’m on the musical program tonight.”

  She blinked. “You definitely are. Didn’t you hear me say that last night?”

  “Sorry. I was…my mind was on other things.”

  “You’re still doing it, I hope.”

  “Yes, ma’am. In fact, it might be my last chance to change Izzy’s mind.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  What a horrible night. Groggy and disoriented, Isabel dragged herself out of bed when light sifted through the break in the curtains. She slipped into the white terry guest robe she’d grown to love and ground beans for coffee. After brewing a cup in her French press, she padded barefoot out to the porch, leaving the door open so she’d hear her phone.

  Sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs didn’t provide the relaxation she craved. Instead she paced the cool porch floor and paused along the way to sip her coffee.

  Tire tracks in the dirt parking area in front of her cabin could be from any number of trucks that had pulled in here this week. But some were from CJ’s. She’d finally figured out last night that he wouldn’t leave until she’d doused the lights.

  When she couldn’t hear the rumble of the engine anymore, she’d walked out to the porch and let the evening breeze dry her cheeks. No telling how long she’d stayed out there listening to the crickets.

  Not just crickets, either. A couple of owls had carried on a back-and-forth and she’d swear a wolf had howled in the distance.

  She’d fought the urge to go down the steps and walk the grounds, but she hadn’t gathered enough knowledge about this unfamiliar land to walk alone at night with confidence.

  Lucy had. She’d acclimated beautifully to the ranch and its wonders. The cabin she and Matt were building would be a remote haven for her artist’s soul. She’d told thrilling stories about coming across bears, bobcats, and a slow-moving porcupine during her rambles.

  CJ must have encountered his share of critters, too. She’d never asked about it, but he must have stories as fascinating as Lucy’s. He might not have volunteered the information because it was second nature to him. He clearly had no idea how perfectly he blended into his environment.

  Her phone chimed with Naomi’s ring. Good time to check on her big sister—before the shop opened and after the sexy cowboy had left for work.

  Pain radiated through her. He’d be on the job by now, partnering with one or two members of the Brotherhood, maybe getting some comfort and advice while they shared the morning’s tasks.

  She stepped inside and picked up her phone from the table by the window. “Hi, sis.”

  “Hi, yourself! So far your flight time hasn’t changed. I have the shop covered so I can pick you up. Can’t wait to see you!”

  “Same here, squirt.”

  “You haven’t called me that in years.”

  “I haven’t?”

  “No, and your voice sounds weird. Have you been crying?”

  “Not recently.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She sighed. “I don’t think there’s enough time to—”

  “Talk fast. It’s CJ, isn’t it?”

  “He got this dumb idea he should move to Seattle, but—”

  “Move here?” Her voice squeaked.

  “I can’t let him. This is where he belongs, where he shines. If he relocated, he’d lose…his CJ-ness. He wouldn’t be the same person. He wouldn’t be the guy I fell in love with. He—”

  “Iz, you’re sobbing.”

  “No, I’m not!” She fumbled in the pocket of her robe. No tissue. She used the sash to mop her eyes. Blowing her nose on it would be gross, though.

  “You’re crying your eyes out because you’re hopelessly in love with your child’s father. That’s wonderful and horrible at the same time.”

  “I know! Hang on. I need a tissue.”

  “Oh, I’m hanging on. What are you going to do?”

  “Get a tissue.” She plucked several from the box in the bathroom and blew her nose one-handed.

  “I meant about CJ.”

  “Nothing. I’m flying out of here tomorrow and I’ll keep all our communications about the baby short and impersonal from now on.”

  “That’s bullshit, sis.”

  “I have no choice. He can’t live with me in Seattle. He’s determined and optimistic about doing it, but…I can’t bear to watch him become…someone who’s not CJ.”

  “So part of what you love about him is the cowboy vibe?”

  “Yes! Because that’s who he is to the bone. He was born to ride a horse, and oh, how he loves working with those animals. His second home is the barn and oh, yeah, he plays a mean guitar. He gets to do that all the time around here. In Seattle, he’d—”

  “You’re crying again.”

  “Just a little.” She wadded up the soaked tissue and shoved it in her pocket. “Anyway, that’s the gist.”

  “Izzy, you do have a choi
ce.”

  “If you’re going to tell me to take a chance and invite him to live with me, I’m not—”

  “You could move there.”

  She gasped. “Are you crazy?”

  “Sometimes, but I—”

  “What about Cup of Cheer? What about you? Moving here would mean selling the shop, and I could never—”

  “I don’t want you to sell it, either. I love working here. In fact, I love running the place. So, open another one in Apple Grove and let me run this one. Nobody said you can only have one—”

  “You really are crazy!” Her heart raced. “Do you know what that would entail?”

  “Yes, I do, and I’ll bet the second one will be easier to get going than the first. Any bank will be happy to give you a loan because you’ve proven you can successfully operate a business in a highly competitive market.”

  “They won’t if it’s not a viable concept in this location. I appreciate the thought, but Apple Grove is a little town. I doubt I’d get the traffic to support—”

  “At least promise me you’ll think about it. Or better yet, research it. You’re good at that.”

  “So are you.” She took a shaky breath. “But that brings up the other point. I’d be ten hours away from you. And Mom and Dad. And the only place I’ve ever called home.”

  “Have you been happy with CJ at the Buckskin this week? And don’t lie, because I know you have.”

  “Of course I have.”

  “And has he indicated he’d do whatever it takes to make this work between the two of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let him put all that energy into making it work for you in Apple Grove. You’ll be so busy with him, the baby, and the new business you won’t have time to miss us.”

  “That’s really crazy.”

  “Yeah, okay, maybe that’s over the top. But you could visit a lot. In fact, it’d be a tax-deductible expense!”

  That made her laugh. But not for long. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

  “What if it does? You could have it all, Iz. You just have to be open-minded. Listen, I gotta run. Think about what I said. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” She disconnected, but stood staring at the phone for a long time.

  The image Naomi had painted hovered like a mirage in front of her eyes. She didn’t want to leave her family, move to Montana, and build another coffee shop from scratch.

  Did she?

  * * *

  Apple Grove’s Founders Day celebration was in full swing as Isabel and Kate joined the folks strolling the square. The streets had been blocked off to become pedestrian walkways and fairy lights sparkled in the trees.

  “Thanks for rescuing me from an awkward situation.” The knot in Isabel’s chest loosened. She’d ridden in with Matt and a very nervous Lucy, who was getting her first lesson in pulling a horse trailer with her new truck.

  They’d parked next to a riding arena that was within walking distance of town. While the Brotherhood and the Babes organized the barrel racing demonstration scheduled soon, she’d had nothing to do but avoid CJ.

  Kate smiled. “Happy to. I’m not much help to them, anyway. Last year I wandered over here by myself while they were setting up. It’s nice to have a buddy this year.”

  “How many of these have you been to?”

  “This’ll be my third and I’m still dazzled by it. Those fiddlers were here last year. One guy does an amazing job on Orange Blossom Special.”

  Isabel glanced at the gazebo, which was also decorated with fairy lights. CJ would be performing a number at some point.

  She’d meant to check for a program online, but her focus today had been area demographics and commercial rental property. Oh, who was she kidding? She’d avoided looking up the time. Any reference to CJ made her stomach churn.

  She took a deep breath. “When’s CJ playing?”

  “Nine-thirty.” Kate looked at her. “Did you ask so you could be there or so you could head off somewhere else?”

  “I haven’t decided.” She sighed. “I’m a hot mess, Kate. I may watch from a distance, so he can’t see me. I might throw him off his game.”

  “I have it on good authority that he’d like you to be there. Where he can see you and vice-versa.”

  The knot in her chest returned. “Does he still think he can change my mind?”

  “Of course. He’s CJ.”

  “Of course.” She swallowed.

  Kate put her arm around her and gave her a quick sideways hug. “I hate that this is so tough for both of you.”

  “Thanks, Kate.”

  “Hey, the shops are open. We could pop into one of them or browse the crafts fair.” She gestured toward the tents and booths set up on the lawn surrounding the gazebo.

  “Just walking the square helps the most.” Soon they’d pass the vacant shop on the corner, the only one for rent on the square.

  “Then we’ll do that.”

  When they reached it, she paused. “What used to be in there?”

  “A yarn shop. You know the little knitted baby caps Red and Peggy gave you on Thursday?”

  “Yes. They’re adorable.”

  “Red and Peggy bought the yarn from Thea. They’re very sad she left town.”

  “For lack of customers?”

  “Oh, no. The shop was always busy. She just got tired of the snow in the winter. She’s only been gone a couple of weeks. It’s a good spot. Somebody will be in there soon.”

  “I’m sure. With display windows on the front and the side it’s a tasty piece of rental property.” Plenty of room for booths with a view of the square.

  Kate laughed. “I suppose you’d look at it from a businesswoman’s point of view. I just loved the feel of the place. I bought yarn even when I don’t knit or crochet, just because I loved going in there.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s cozy and yet you’re part of things since you can look out on the square.” Kate’s phone pinged. “That’s my alarm. We need to get back.”

  “Okay.” She took one last look at the corner shop. Perfect location.

  But would she be any happier here than CJ would be in Seattle? Her hormones said yes, but her brain wasn’t convinced.

  If she took the leap and lived to regret it, she could turn a difficult situation into an unbearable one.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Izzy was avoiding him. That hurt, but CJ wasn’t about to chase after her. The bleachers were crowded for tonight’s event. Nice to see that so many folks wanted to see the Babes do their thing.

  Garrett, Nick and Leo had claimed a spot along the top row and they waved him up. He made the climb and took a seat next to Garrett without checking to see where Izzy had parked herself. When he made a quick survey, he found her three rows down and about ten feet to his left sitting with Kate and Rafe.

  Nick must have caught him looking. “Have you talked to her at all?”

  “Nope.”

  “Her choice or yours?”

  “Hers. I’ve caught her eye a few times but she just turns and goes in a different direction.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yep.”

  Garrett glanced at him. “I’m sorry, buddy. I thought for sure… well, never mind.”

  “Yeah, I thought so, too.” He focused on the seven women mounted and waiting near the arena. A large suede-cloth banner hung on the fence with Babes on Buckskins stitched in elegant gold letters. “I’m happy for the large turnout.”

  “Me, too,” Garrett said. “Are they any good?”

  Nick laughed. “Clearly we’ve neglected your education.”

  “Was that the wrong question?”

  “Let me put it this way,” CJ said. “Ed is one of the top barrel riders in the country and she’s been teaching the others in her private indoor arena for… how long has it been, guys?”

  “Years,” Leo said.

  Garrett’s eyes widened. “Ed’s still competing?” />
  “And winning.” CJ shifted his position so he could keep track of Izzy from the corner of his eye. “She picked up another trophy last month, which is even more impressive since she was on a relatively inexperienced horse.”

  “That’s amazing for someone her age.”

  “Better not reference her age when you’re talking with her, dude,” Nick said. “She’s liable to challenge you to an arm-wrestling match.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” His gaze shifted to the arena. “Looks like they’re ready to start. I was interested before. Now I’m excited.”

  “They’re fun to watch.” And a welcome distraction. CJ let himself go, cheering and whistling after each run.

  Izzy got into the spirit of the occasion, too, leaping up and clapping wildly for each of the Babes. She went especially crazy when Lucy took her turn on Muffin. Ed’s seasoned gelding gave Lucy an edge and she was clearly thrilled about it.

  His phone pinged as the demonstration ended. Izzy? Heart racing, he checked the message. Rafe.

  Nick leaned around Garrett. “What’s up?”

  “Rafe’s confirming he and Kate will make sure Izzy’s there for my song.”

  “Good.”

  “I’d better grab my guitar and hotfoot it over there. Not a lot of spare time.”

  Nick raised his hand for a fist bump. “Go get her, bro.”

  “Thanks.” His gut tightened. Most critical performance of his life.

  * * *

  The country band that was becoming a regular at the Choosy Moose was packing up as CJ approached the gazebo.

  He mounted the steps. “Forgot you guys had the slot in front of me.”

  “Yep.” The lead singer glanced up and shoved back his hat. “You’re a solo act?”

  “Yeah. I’m not a pro like you guys, but the organizers thought I should do a song, so here I am.”

  “Which song?”

  “She’s My Kind of Rain.”

 

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