Her Forever Cowboy (Harland County Series Book 4)

by Donna Michaels

  “You need to get conditioned. A dance-a-thon is eighty-percent stamina.”

  Stamina? Hell, he had that in spades, especially when it came to dancing in the sheets.

  “You two need to dance well and last the whole night so you can raise good money for the children. Breaks my heart that most of them go without some of the simple things other children take for granted, like coats and shoes and school supplies.”

  No child should go without. “Why don’t you just let me donate the money?”

  “That’s sweet. You’re always generous to our causes, but winning this will also raise awareness of the children’s needs. There will be several charities represented in the dance-a-thon, but only the winning one will get coverage in three prestigious magazines and two nationwide newspapers,” she explained. “The exposure will be priceless.”

  Wow. He whistled while, nodding. “That is great. Kind of a shame all of the charities couldn’t have the exposure.”

  Mrs. Avery nodded. “I know. That’s why we have to make sure we win, and with you dancing, especially with Shayla, we can’t lose.”

  But he could lose—his ever-loving mind.

  Being so close to the sexy single-mother, touching her, rubbing against her…ah hell, his body was already heating just thinking about it. He was in trouble. Big trouble.

  Starting this weekend. Once he returned from the Dallas seminar, he was going to have to stop by her place and convince the stubborn woman to be his partner. His dance partner. No sheets involved.

  His groin tightened.

  Yeah. This was going to be hard…in more ways than one.

  Chapter Five

  Thursday morning, Alex sat across from his pretty wife in their kitchen, enjoying one of their cook’s prize winning steak and egg breakfast burritos. For over thirty-five years now, Emma never disappointed. The McCall household was lucky to have her.

  “This is first rate, Emma,” he told her with a wink before enjoying another bite.

  “Thank you, Mr. McCall,” the robust woman replied, face beaming her pleasure. “I made yours with extra steak, and Mrs. McCall’s with extra green peppers.”

  Leeann opened her mouth to reply, but the ringing of her cell phone stopped whatever she had been about to say. Her gaze bounced from her phone to their cook, then him. “It’s Mrs. Avery.”

  Emma’s intake of breath echoed around them. “I hope she has good news. That Kevin can be just as stubborn as your boys.”

  “I hear ya,” he said, watching his wife answer the call.

  “Hello, Mrs. Avery. How’d things go? Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much for your help.” She gave him and their cook a thumbs up. “I knew it would. Super. Please keep us informed. All right. Good-bye.”

  “Hot damn, it worked.” He slapped the table and grinned. They needed to tread carefully with Kevin and Shayla. Keep their distance. Do some nudging from afar. “Emma, did I ever tell you I have a brilliant wife?” he asked, never taking his gaze off his beautiful, Leeann, whose sparkling brown eyes still played havoc with his pulse.

  “No,” the cook answered, smile evident in her voice. “But I’ve known that for years.”

  Laughing, he rose to his feet to embrace his approaching wife. “Your idea to use the Harland County Dance-a-Thon as a way to force those two to spend time together was genius.” He pulled her petite body in close and kissed the top of her head. The gray strands peppering into her light brown hair only added to her beauty. He was one lucky son-of-a-gun.

  Her arms reached around him and held tight while her laughter rippled through him. “Well, after the way those two danced together at the Dalton’s party, and Emma told me Mrs. Avery’s quilting circle was looking for someone to represent them in the upcoming fundraiser, it really was a no-brainer.”

  “Thank goodness Mrs. Masters videotaped the dance.” The cook crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back on her heels. “I wonder what made her do it.”

  His wife drew back and laughed. “Intuition. Hannah told me she just had this inkling that something spectacular was about to happen, so she pulled out her phone and hit record just before the music started.”

  “Lucky for us, and for the Youtube universe,” he added with a smile.

  Leeann patted his not-as-trim-as-it-used-to-be stomach and grinned up at him. “Yeah, your idea to upload it to the internet wasn’t too shabby either, hun.”

  His smile broadened. “Seemed a shame to waste all that great footage.” Those two sure did dance fluid, as if they’d rehearsed for days.

  “All in all, I’d say we did well,” his wife stated, reaching for her phone on the table. “I should call Hannah and let her know it worked.”

  Emma nodded. “Yes, those two have a good start.”

  Alex’s intuition told him it was going to take more than a dance-a-thon to bring the stubborn couple together. But he kept that information to himself. His grinning wife and their cook looked too happy. He hated to burst their bubble. He’d just have to get with Nate and go over their contingency plan again.

  After three successful matchups, the five of them knew to plan for the unexpected. Adding a sixth, Mrs. Avery, upped the odds in their favor. He wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. Cole, Connor and Kade were all pleased with the way the matchmaking had turned out. Surely Kevin would feel the same a few months down the road.

  The last thing Kevin wanted to do after driving over four hours from Dallas on a miserable, gray, rainy winter day was to break it to Shayla that he’d sort of committed them to the whole dance-a-thon thing.

  And that practice began next week.

  He knew from Kade that Brandi started a new design job on Monday, which meant Shayla would be back to work, too. Not exactly the best time to start dance lessons, but he wouldn’t let Mrs. Avery down. Or the children. No way.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the Texas Republic, he wasn’t surprised to find the place hopping. It was half-past eight on a Friday night. The pub was always packed on the last day of the work week. Hell, most Friday’s he was one of the packees. But not tonight. He drove around back and parked near the stairs that led to Kerri’s old apartment.

  He was beat.

  Turning off the ignition, he heaved a sigh and shifted his body to pocket the keys in his Armani suit. He’d been in such a hurry to get on the road, he hadn’t even taken the time to change into the jeans he’d packed for traveling. Comfort was key, but not today. Today, making good time was key. He’d settled for just tossing his jacket on the seat. It was the start of a weekend, and he’d known traffic would be a bear. And it had been, but now he was back in Harland County, and away from the rat race.

  As soon as he got this confrontation with the red-manian she-devil out of the way, he was looking forward to driving the final five-point-two miles to Shadow Rock Ranch and crashing in his own bed for a good eight hours.

  Despite having stayed in a five-star hotel in Dallas for the seminar, he gave the mattress a one star for sleep deprivation. The bed had been too soft and kept him from getting any decent sleep. Waking up almost every hour to switch positions, lying there willing himself to fall back sucked. All the tossing and turning was catching up to him now.

  He opened the door and yawned again. Yeah, the date with his pillow couldn’t come fast enough. As he climbed the stairs, walked down the hall and reached the apartment door, he thought about the spiel he’d come up with on his drive back. Hopefully, the redhead would buy it.

  He knocked on her door. She would. He’d make sure of it.

  A minute went by. No answer. Maybe she was putting the baby down or in the bathroom. Maybe she was in the tub.

  The visual sparked a heat through his body strong enough to combat the winter chill.

  Shaking his head, he knocked again. Still no answer. Which was odd, because he’d parked next to Shayla’s SUV, and noticed a light on in her apartment when he’d pulled in.

  Irritation pricked at his shoulder blades. Was she ser
iously not answering on purpose? Ah, hell, he was too tired to deal with that crap. He knocked one last time. Hard.

  The locks on the door clicked, and a second later a pale, shivering, zombie Shayla opened the door, holding her daughter. For a brief moment, he thought about stepping back to safeguard his brain, but she stepped back instead, eyes widening before settling into a scowl.

  “It’s you. Go away,” she said in a voice so low and weak he got the impression it was an effort to speak.

  But not for her daughter. “Hiyee,” Amelia said, lunging for him.

  At least one female was happy to see him.

  Catching the tot with one hand, he ushered her mom farther into the apartment with the other, then shut the door with his injured foot. Dammit. “Jesus, Shayla, you look like hell.” And felt it, too. Her skin was on fire.

  She looked like she wanted to snort but didn’t have the strength. “Thanks, now go away.”

  He risked flogging by taking her elbow and ushering her into the living room which looked like an F5 had hit. Pillows and toys and wrappers covered the floor while cups and plates covered the coffee table. When he turned to view the kitchen, he found more of the same.

  The condition of the apartment was a testament to how awful she must have felt. For a neat freak and organizing fanatic, no way would she ever allow the place to get this out of control.

  “Where’s your sister?” he asked.

  “School. She left this morning.”

  Damn. He set Amelia on the couch with one cushion and handed her some picture books he’d seen her carrying everywhere. Thankfully, the cutie settled back and babbled as she turned the pages.

  He straightened and studied the woman. Face pale, dark circle under her sunken eyes, she looked like death. “Why’d you let her go if you felt like this?”

  “Because I didn’t feel like this at the time.” She teetered and reached for the wall for support. “I—I…” Her voice trailed off as her hand shot to her mouth and she rushed for the bathroom.

  Ah, hell. He followed her. The poor thing looked ready to drop. He found her kneeling in front of the toilet.

  “Go a-w-ay.”

  “Can’t.” The helper in him kicked in and took over. He and his bed were going to be kept apart for another night. At the moment, what he needed didn’t matter. The poor single mother had no one to help her. She was taking care of her child when she should be resting in bed. He reached for her hair and held it back while she finished being sick.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she slowly stood, still teetering. “I had hoped I was done doing that.”

  “No worries, darlin’.”

  He scooped her up after she rinsed her mouth, then headed down the hall to the master bedroom he’d helped move Kerri into almost a year ago. Kevin assumed it was the room Shayla now used.

  “What are you doing?” Warm breath hit his neck as she tried to raise her head to stare at him.

  “Taking you to bed.” Damn, okay…he hadn’t meant that as it sounded, but now that he’d heard it the wrong way his body responded with some heat of its own.

  She made a noise, possibly a snort. “Out of luck, cowboy. Barely have strength to breath.”

  A smile tugged his lips. “No worries, darlin’.” He set her on the edge of the bed in order to pull the covers down. “I’ll take a rain check.”Another weak attempt at a snort met his ears.

  He picked her up and laid her down on the pillow, happy she was in sweats and a T-shirt so he didn’t have to remove any clothes. Even sick, she would be too damn tempting for his mind to forget.

  He pulled the covers up to her neck and she closed her eyes and sighed. And shivered. He felt her forehead with the back of his wrist.

  Damn. She was burning up.

  “I know this is a stupid question, Shayla, but have you taken any medicine for this fever?”

  “No. Can’t keep down.”

  Exactly what he’d figured. “Does anything besides your stomach hurt?”

  “Yes,” she replied, eyes still closed. “Head is pounding.”

  “Okay.” Dehydration. “I’ll be right back.”

  On his way through the living room, he checked on Amelia who was babbling to her stuffed bear, while pointing to her story book. God, she was so cute, his chest hurt just looking at her. Smiling, he strode into the open kitchen and gathered ice cubes, a bowl, butter knife and cup, then proceeded to crack each cube with the back of the knife until the cup was full. If he could get the fever down, then Amelia’s mommy could take some pills.

  Another quick glance at the busy little girl now standing in front of the couch with her back to him, found her reading to the bear. He snuck right by, made a quick stop into the bathroom to wet a washcloth, then he carried both offerings to the foolish woman trying to get out of bed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” He set the cup and cloth on the nightstand and pushed the protesting mother back down.

  “Need to care for my daughter.”

  “I’ll take care of her. And you,” he said, smiling at her raised brows.

  “You?”

  “Yes, me.” He nodded. “I’ve taken care of sick people before.” He’d had a lot of practice with his mother before she’d passed. “And I’ve watched my nephew Cody many nights. So stop worrying, and just concentrate on getting better. I promise, I’ll take care of Amelia. She’ll be fine. Here.” He held the cup up to her mouth. “Try to suck on some ice. You’re dehydrated. It’s not helping your headache.”

  To his surprise, she complied, gaze glued to him the whole time. When she finally leaned back, he placed the wash cloth on her forehead and she hissed.

  “Cold.”

  “It’s room temperature. You’re just that hot.” He snickered. Truer words.

  She nodded. “Maybe just a quick nap, then you can leave.”

  Not hardly.

  “Okay,” he said to appease the stubborn woman. He just needed her to fall asleep, then the exhaustion would take over and her nap would turn into hours, maybe even the whole night.

  His gaze fell to her hand as she settled against the pillows. Hot damn. A tattoo. He quirked a smile. She was full of surprises. The tiny, green dragonfly inked on the back of her wrist no doubt held meaning.

  He straightened. None of his business. Nope. Not getting involved. He was just helping the woman since she had no one else. That was all. Nothing more.

  He stood vigil a few minutes; satisfied the sick mother was going to stay in bed, he turned on his heel and strode from the room. A quick call to Jace confirmed they were on track, and Kevin promised if more symptoms arose, he’d call the doctor back.

  One redhead down. One to go.

  The tougher one.

  Kevin spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning up…with Amelia’s help. Little darlin’ jumped right in when she saw what he was doing. Of course, she found it all a game and he had to rescue the phonebook, a vase, an ereader and one of her mother’s shoes from the trash.

  An overzealous helper who deserved a treat. “Come here, pumpkin.”

  He sat on the couch, crossed his leg, then settled her on his uninjured foot and bounced her up and down. His nephew had loved ‘horsie’ at Amelia’s age, and so did she. The cutie cackled and laughed as he held her hands and bounced her for a full minute.

  “You like horsie,” he said, smiling into her happy face.

  “Horsie,” she said, and laughed some more. “Horsie. Horsie!” The little bugger got louder and louder.

  Kevin winced and stopped bouncing. He wanted to occupy her, not wake up her mother. Now the little redheaded she-devil’s face began to pucker. The resemblance was uncanny.

  “More!” She bounced herself on his foot and started to cry. Then made to throw herself backward, but he held on tight.

  Damn. He’d forgotten about that part. Cody had done the same thing when Kevin had stopped before his nephew was ready.

  Plan B.

  “Want to go bye-bye?” He ju
st realized he hadn’t eaten in almost six hours. His stomach growled in confirmation.

  “Horsie!”

  “No, horsie right now. Horsie broken.”

  “No! Horsie!”

  “How about we go downstairs and see Kerri?”

  “Kerri?” The little girl’s tears stopped in their tracks and she blinked at him. “Kerri! Jordan!”

  Thank the Lord. “Yes, Kerri and Jordan.” If the deputy wasn’t on duty. He’d worry about that later. “Let’s get you changed, and your coat on, then go downstairs.”

  “Kerri! Jordan!”

  She clapped while he changed her diaper, and he was grateful to find what he needed in her diaper bag near the couch. He hadn’t wanted to go into Shayla’s room where he’d noticed Amelia’s crib and changing table in the far corner. Now, he just hoped her coat was in the hall closet.

  Knowing how smart and perceptive children could be at that age, Kevin decided to let her help him. “Where’s your coat, Amelia?”

  “Coat. Bye-bye,” she babbled, running to the closet by the door.

  “Smarty pants.” He winked down at her.

  “Pantz,” she repeated with a giggle.

  He helped her into her aqua coat with little mermaids on the front and back, then picked up the bundle of energy.

  “Kerri. Jordan,” she repeated, pointing to the door.

  “Yes, but first we’d better leave mommy a note so she doesn’t wake up and freak because we’re not here,” he said, setting her down.

  And mini-she-devil returned.

  “Bye-bye!”

  Grabbing the first things he could find so the bye-bye rant didn’t wake up mommy, Kevin scribbled a quick note on the back of an envelope…with a green crayon. At least it wasn’t pink.

  “All right, pumpkin, let’s go.” He scooped her into his arms, grabbed the diaper bag and rushed out the door.

  Cripes. If he thought he was tired before, now he was dragging. But Kerri would help with that, provided he got down there before the kitchen closed. Booking it as fast as his Italian leather shoes and his bum foot would allow, he made it downstairs and into the back door of the kitchen in under a minute.