Montana Dad

by Jeannie Watt

  “Did you eat Nick’s lunch?” she asked Gus, who looked sideways in a patently guilty way. “No more of that, please.” She ruffled the wiry hair on Roger’s head. “Imagine that—you’re the positive role model today. Good job.”

  Alex ate an early dinner and curled up on the sofa to read. Tomorrow while Nick was there, she’d go into town, do her shopping, and maybe look at the local furniture and thrift stores to see if she could find anything that might start making her house feel like a home.

  She’d just started for the stairs when her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was from her part of Virginia. A chill went through her.

  It was early evening in Virginia, after business hours, so it wouldn’t be an investigator...would it?

  Get a grip.

  It had to be a robocall. The kind that came from familiar area codes and tricked people into answering when they otherwise would not. Alex turned off the ringer and headed up the stairs, wondering if she’d missed an opportunity to extend a warranty on a vehicle, or if the caller was interested in helping her pay off her student loans. Or perhaps a million-dollar lottery win if she handed over her social security number for verification.

  But even as the logical explanations marched through her brain, another part of her wondered if it might be the beginning of something more insidious than someone trying to trick her into giving her bank account number. Maybe it indicated that someone was tracing her. An investigator, or an investor...or perhaps the guy who’d broken into her apartment. Maybe that same person was responsible for the tracks at her gate.

  Alex pulled the sheets up to her chin, doing her best to take comfort in the fact that she wasn’t alone—that her two furry protectors were there to warn her of intruders. But if she had an intruder, just how much damage could she do with her Louisville Slugger?

  It was a scam call. It had to be...

  Unless it wasn’t.

  * * *

  NICK WAS BROUGHT out of a light sleep by the soft sound of whimpering in the girls’ room next door to his. He got out of bed and pulled on his sweats and hoodie before quietly letting himself out of his room and into his daughters’.

  Kendra was sound asleep, her face relaxed, her hand tucked under her cheek. He wanted to make sure she stayed that way. She put herself under a lot of pressure being Bailey’s protector as well as her sister.

  Bailey was still whimpering—nothing close to a full-on night terror, but he didn’t want to take the chance of her waking Kendra. He scooped her up into his arms and then carried her out the door and into the living room, which was navigable due to the porch light filtering in through the windows. He settled in the recliner and, after tugging an afghan over his daughter, started rocking.

  Bailey gave a small sigh and snuggled against him, then her little body went stiff as she made a low keening sound.

  And it begins...

  But it didn’t. Bailey gave a couple of choking half sobs, then her eyes snapped open and her body jerked.

  She blinked at him through the semidarkness. “Daddy?”

  “Yeah, Bill?”

  She stared at him, then her little body relaxed. She loved to hate her nickname. “Daddy,” she murmured as she snuggled back against him. “Why are we out here?”

  “You were having a bad dream and I didn’t want you to wake up your sister.”

  “I didn’t have a dream,” she said simply.

  “I think you did, but you can’t remember. Dreams do that sometimes.”

  “Oh.”

  They’d had this discussion before, because she never remembered her night-terror episodes, but Kendra did.

  “You know what, Daddy?”

  “What?”

  Her little fingers curled around the edge of the afghan. “I think if Woger spent the night sometimes, I wouldn’t have dreams I don’t remember.”

  “Roger lives with Alex, and he helps her with her dreams.”

  “Alex has dreams she doesn’t remember?”

  “Everybody has dreams like that.” He smiled down at her. “Maybe Lizzie Belle could help.”

  “No.” Bailey shook her head against his chest. “Lizzie Belle pushes.”

  “You’re right. She’d probably hog the pillow and push you out of bed.” He leaned his head back against the chair cushion. “Maybe Tigger would sleep with you.” He was Katie’s big ginger cat, who spent the night in Katie’s room when he wasn’t out hunting.

  “He makes my legs go ’sleep.” Bailey yawned. “Ellie and Unicorn will help me.”

  “They always have,” Nick agreed. “I don’t think they’ll let you down now.”

  Bailey gave a murmur of agreement, then a few seconds later she was out. Nick closed his eyes and continued to rock. He’d put her back to bed when he was sure she was sound asleep, tuck her in with Ellie the Elephant and Unicorn, and then go back to his own bed.

  If he went to sleep right away, he’d have three hours of rest before he had to get up and go to work.

  Nothing new there.

  * * *

  ALEX WAS AT the table drinking coffee when Nick let himself in the back door. Other than giving a rap on the frame as he opened the door if she wasn’t in sight, he’d given up knocking.

  “Hey,” she said, getting to her feet and heading to the coffeepot. After the first few days of him refusing coffee because he brought his own, she no longer offered. She pulled in a deep breath as she filled the cup, and he noticed that she was holding herself oddly, as if she wasn’t feeling all that well.

  “Are you okay? Were there more tracks at the gate?”

  She turned, and that was when he saw the shadows beneath her eyes. “I didn’t sleep well.” She frowned then. “You don’t look like you slept, either.”

  He hadn’t thought it was that noticeable, although, now that he ran his hand over his chin, he realized that he had neglected to shave. “I was up last night with Bailey.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. How about with you?”

  She started to say something positive, then abruptly stopped and pressed her lips together.

  “Alex?” He took a few steps closer, taking care not to get too close. He needn’t have worried, because after a moment of hesitation, Alex closed the gap between them and brought her cheek to rest against his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” His arms closed around her.

  “I know I said we shouldn’t touch.” Alex’s cheek pressed harder against him as she spoke.

  “It’s okay.” More than okay. It felt right.

  “I had a phone call last night. It was probably a scam call. I didn’t answer it, but what with the tracks at the gate, well, my mind kind of went wild. Needless to say, it was a sleepless night.”

  He pulled her close again, running his hand over her back, soothing her, wishing he could fix everything. Now. “It’ll take a while for that to stop happening.”

  “I know.” She whispered the words against the front of his shirt, and he pulled her closer, his fingers coming up to thread through her hair, loosening the knot so that it threatened to come undone.

  He felt her swallow, then she brought her hands up to his chest and eased herself out of his embrace. “Nick... I’m not going to make any hard-and-fast rules here, because I don’t know if I can keep them.”

  “Understood.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, and I can’t promise not to touch you.”

  He curled his fingers into loose fists to keep from touching her. “I get it, Alex. You’re not in a position to make any kind of promise.”

  “Not until I feel like everything is behind me.”

  “It might already be behind you.”

  She managed a quick smile, then it was gone. “My logical side tells me that. My other more cautious side isn’t so sure. It�
��s going to take some convincing.”

  And he would be there while she figured things out, in more than a physical way. He lifted a hand, holding it out to her, palm up. Alex stared at it for a moment, then put her hand in his and his fingers closed. A sign of trust. That was all he needed.

  She pulled in a deep breath and then exhaled again. Her grip tightened ever so slightly, then relaxed. “All right.”

  He wasn’t sure what was all right, but he nodded. “We’ll...go with the flow.”

  The faint smile returned. “No pressure.”

  “Just...flow.”

  She laughed then and pulled her fingers free. “You’re a good guy, Nick Callahan.”

  He wanted to be more than that, but for the moment, he’d settle for good-guy status.

  * * *

  THE NEXT SEVERAL days passed in a flurry of activity as Alex helped Nick work on her house, repairing and replacing trim, painting cabinetry, and finally giving the okay to replace the worn kitchen floor. They took care not to touch, talked about ordinary things, but Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that she was growing closer to the man with each passing day. He was there for her. She knew it as certainly as she knew he’d drive the quarter mile to lock her gate before turning around and heading back to his family at the end of the workday.

  There had been no more calls—robo or otherwise—and Alex’s paranoia ebbed as she put the situation into perspective.

  She was so ready for the next bad thing to happen that anything out of the ordinary, even a phone call with a Virginia area code or tracks at her gate, made her believe that disaster was about to strike again. But that wasn’t necessarily true. She’d been in Montana for weeks and nothing had happened to make her believe that the incident that had driven her across the country wasn’t over and done.

  She could take back her life. She just had to take care not to take it back so quickly that she made mistakes, and that was why she was keeping things between her and Nick at a low simmer. She didn’t want to make a mistake. Heaven knew she’d made enough of them with Jason to fulfill her quota for the next several years.

  As promised, Alex brought the box of quilt tops and lace to Rosalie’s shop when she went to help make gift baskets. She also brought Roger and Gus after Rosalie assured her that the dog play area Nick had partitioned off from the rest of the backyard earlier that spring was inescapable. Alex half wondered if Roger was the litmus test for the inescapabilty of the construction prior to the official opening of the shop, but she decided that it was for Bailey’s sake that the little dog was coming to town.

  “You must be Alex!” A woman wearing a bright multicolored tunic over skinny jeans beamed at Alex as she started up the walk with both dogs on leashes. “I’m Gloria. It’s so good to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m looking forward to seeing all the wonderful stuff you make.”

  “I can say the same. Rosalie tells me you make an excellent buttercream frosting, but she won’t let me get my hands on any of the eats.”

  “All in good time.” Rosalie’s voice came from inside the open front door, then she stepped out onto the porch and reached for Gus’s leash. “I’m glad you brought them. Bailey speaks highly of both.”

  “She’s definitely a dog person, and Kendra seems to prefer cats.”

  “I’m a goat woman myself,” Gloria said, “but since my Lizzie Belle is having so much fun on the ranch with her beau, Wendell, I can’t see bringing her back to town, even if we win the zoning fight.”

  Alex smiled at the mention of the goat who’d playfully knocked her into the mud puddle. “She does seem to enjoy herself on the ranch.”

  “Let’s get these guys in the doggie playpen. They’re the first to try it out.” Rosalie looked over her shoulder as she led Gus around the house and through a gate leading to the backyard. “I’m hoping to get a dog. We’ve missed having Lizzie Belle here, and I don’t think our neighbor can come up with a zoning issue for a dog.”

  The dog area was roomy and grassy, with a cute house located in the shade of a leafy tree. Water and food dishes were under a small shelter, and the areas that weren’t grassy were newly graveled.

  “I put some toys in that wire basket.” Rosalie pointed to a bushel basket near the house, and sure enough, it was loaded with rubber chew toys.

  “Roger will have those spread out in no time.”

  “As he should.” Rosalie released Gus from his leash, and he made it three or four steps before lying down in the cool grass. Roger, on the other hand, immediately began exploring his surroundings. He passed the basket, stopped, went back, sniffed, then picked up a chewy hamburger and continued his exploration.

  “Did you bring the quilt top and lace?” Rosalie asked.

  “I did. I hope you can give me some tips on getting the stains out of the lace.”

  “If I can’t, Gloria can. And if she can’t, then we’ll run it to the quilt shop to see what they think.”

  Katie showed up with Bailey and Kendra a half hour later, while Alex was loading gift baskets that were to be given away as hourly prizes over the course of the two-day event. The girls immediately came over to inspect the finished baskets, which contained a variety of small lotions, packets of potpourri and dried herbs, pretty gardening tools, candles, salt scrubs and gift certificates.

  “I like the ribbons,” Kendra said. “And the ballerina stuff.” The ballerina stuff being the tulle wrapping around the baskets, holding the contents in place. “Bailey and I took ballerina lessons.”

  “But we didn’t get on our toes,” Bailey explained. “It hurts. I tried.” She demonstrated how she tried to get on her toes, making an exasperated face when she failed to achieve a pointe position in her sneakers.

  Alex gave an approving nod. “Nice try, though.”

  “Ballerinas wear special shoes,” Kendra explained seriously. “And it takes a long time to get your feet ready to wear the shoes.”

  “Ah.”

  “Where’s W-r-roger?” Bailey asked, drawing the name out and coming very close to getting that r out. Kendra must have been working with her on her pronunciation—and apparently winning the battle.

  “He’s in the dog yard in the back, honey.” Rosalie came into the room, and both girls rushed to hug her. “Let’s let him play and explore until after lunch, okay?”

  Katie gave a nod. “You can each have a cupcake after you eat your sandwich.” She met Rosalie’s gaze. “I brought the ones we mangled with me.”

  “How about me?” Gloria asked from across the room. “Do I get a cupcake if I eat my sandwich?”

  Kendra and Bailey giggled.

  “Yes,” Katie said with exaggerated patience. “You get a cupcake, too.”

  For the second time in a matter of days, Alex was immersed in girl time—something she hadn’t experienced since boarding school, when she and her closest friends had been inseparable. They’d essentially been one another’s family, and the bonds had been tight.

  And then they’d gone their separate ways.

  Things had changed, life moved on, making Alex wonder if anything lasted. She glanced at the two older women and her question was answered. Yes. Some things lasted. Both women had been married for more than fifty years before losing their spouses. That was inspiring, to say the least.

  “Alex!”

  She looked up to see Bailey standing in front of her. “Can you let me into the dog cage?”

  “Yard, honey. Dog yard,” Rosalie said absently as she tied ribbons on vases. In addition to the door prizes, the first fifty patrons would receive a daisy bouquet in a cute vase. “I’ll let you inside and you can play with him if you want, but we can’t let him out.”

  “I’ll go, too,” Kendra said. “So Gus doesn’t get jealous.”

  When Rosalie came back, the conversation continued as Gladys Knight and the Pips, the Ea
gles, and Linda Ronstadt played in the background. Alex had just finished tying the last bow on the last basket when Bailey came racing into the room, Kendra hot on her heels.

  “Woger got out!” Bailey announced on a half sob. “I wanted to go to the house to go to the bathroom and he ran right out when I opened the gate!”

  “He did,” Kendra said breathlessly. “And that mean man is yelling at him.”

  Gloria and Rosalie exchanged a quick glance, then Rosalie said to Katie, “Please keep the girls in here.”

  Katie took Bailey into her arms, and Gloria reached for Kendra’s hand, pulling her closer and wrapping a comforting arm around the little girl. Alex hesitated, then purposely followed Rosalie through the room that had formerly been the kitchen and out the back door.

  * * *

  WHEN ROSALIE GOT to the backyard, Gus stood alone in the fenced dog yard, and Roger was indeed missing. And, from the commotion sounding on the other side of the fence, Rosalie knew exactly where he was. Disembodied voices floated over the fence, giving terse, hissed directions.

  “Go that way.”

  “No, the other way.”

  “Grab that little mutt before he gets into the house again.”

  It was only when she’d started toward the front of the house, intending to gain access to Vince Taylor’s property in the most legal way possible, that she realized that Alex had left the house and was following close behind her.

  “He’s my dog,” she murmured as she caught up with Rosalie.

  “It might be better if I handle this alone.”

  “I’m responsible. I brought him.”

  Since she didn’t have time to talk sense into Alex, Rosalie simply continued on her way, letting herself out of the gate onto the sidewalk and then heading down Vince’s walkway to the porch, where she rang the bell. A harried-looking woman answered. She forced a smile, then realized who was standing on the porch.

  “We’ve come for the dog,” Rosalie said.