Danny (Downton Cowboys Book 1)

by Miley Maine

  He suddenly laughed. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to call me Russ?”

  I mirrored his lightheartedness. “Of course, Russ. I’ll be waiting for a good omen.”

  “God help us.” He chuckled once more.

  Even with the knowledge that Michael was just a few steps away, I was apprehensive about leaving Gigi alone in the house. That’s why, for the rest of the day, I conducted all of my work calls from the living room couch and held all my meetings in the dining room.

  Every now and then, I would go upstairs and check on my precious companion and the baby. After cooking us dinner and carrying it in a tray upstairs, we ate and talked about how she felt.

  “It’s just so weird,” she pondered. “Being responsible for a small creature who’s completely dependent on you.”

  “Well,” I chuckled, “now you know what it's like to be a rancher.”

  She laughed. Her eyelids a little pink from lack of sleep.

  “Tell you what.” I shifted in my seat. “How ‘bout I take him with me downstairs so you could get some rest?”

  “What if he cries?”

  “I’ll pick ‘im up and rock ‘im.”

  “What if he needs a change?”

  I shrugged. “I can change a diaper.”

  “And what if he’s hungry?” Her eyes challenged mine.

  “Then I’ll come up here and wake you up.”

  The expression on her face was rather unreadable. But she soon smiled, securing the little blanket around Billy before carefully extending her arms with him in her hands. “Careful,” she whispered.

  “Are you forgetting I delivered him?” I teased.

  “I know.” She grinned as she shook her head, almost embarrassed. “It’s just something people say I guess.”

  I cautiously received him in my hands, and they were so much bigger than hers that I cradled him with ease. “Get some sleep, Baby.”

  For about three hours, the time I spent with little Billy was calm and serene. He didn’t cry once, and every time I let my gigantic fingers touch his big, blue eyes, he would quietly examine me, as if he were trying to memorize my face.

  “Mama loves you very much,” I spoke with a low, soothing voice. “You oughtta know that.” I instinctively smiled, knowing full well that he probably didn’t quite understand what it meant yet. “And I love you, Billy. You’re gonna be my good boy, and a damned good man. So help me God, I’ll never disappoint you. I promise you that.”

  The rest of the night was uneventful, and once I went to bed, I fell into a deep sleep. Billy cried a couple of times through the night, but they were easy to handle with Gigi and I knowing what to expect.

  She was intuitively a good mother, I could tell.

  For some reason, it gratified me, even though it wasn’t my accomplishment. I was proud of her, happy for her, and thankful to the Lord that he gave me such a wonderful wife.

  In the morning, and immediately after we were done with breakfast, Michael came over to tell us that Mr. and Mrs. Mans had arrived.

  “My parents?” Astonishment was all over Gigi’s face.

  “Yeah.” I hastily got up. “Let me go greet them.”

  “But—”

  “They’re downstairs, Gigi. I can’t keep them waiting. Just give me a minute.”

  Before she could object, I launched out of the room, accompanied by Michael.

  “Their luggage’s gone to the guest cottage, as you said.”

  “Great, thanks, Mike.” I put on my hat. “Were they any trouble?”

  “Not really.”

  “If you need anything, you come to me,” I sternly ordered before approaching with a big grin. “Rita, Russ, thank God you made it.” I launched at them with open arms.

  “Well, how could we not?” she exclaimed. “I’ve gotta see my grandson. Where is he?” She took a few steps toward the staircase, and I glanced at Russ, who helplessly shrugged.

  “Okay, Rita.” I caught up with her. “This is a surprise for Gigi; she didn’t know you were coming.”

  “And?” Her expression suddenly changed before swiftly carrying that big grin again. “Move over; I can’t wait to see them.” She shoved me by the arm, climbing up the stairs.

  How was my Gigi raised by that woman?

  Russ and I followed her upstairs.

  As soon as we all arrived at the doorway, Rita let out a gleeful shriek. “My babies!” She marched inside, almost skipping with joy as she approached the bed.

  “Hi, Mom,” Gigi smiled. “Hi, Dad.”

  “How are you, Angel?” Russ’s voice remained calm and dignified as he leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.

  His wife, on the other hand, was causing a ruckus as she picked up Billy, kissed Gigi on both cheeks, and started pacing with the baby across the room.

  “Look at him.” Her eyes were filled with awe. “Just look at that little cherub.” She then abruptly turned to Russ. “Isn’t he the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”

  Russ was now sitting down next to Gigi on the bed, tenderly surrounding her shoulders with one arm. “He sure is,” he chuckled, giving me an empathetic look.

  “Oh, Gigi.” She launched toward her on the opposite side. “He looks just like Matty.” She pretended to whisper, but not quite.

  I heard it loud and clear…and my heart sank.

  Taking a few steps backward toward the door, I subtly glanced at Gigi from under my eyebrows. I knew I was doing a good job maintaining a straight face, in spite of the rage that was slowly beginning to boil inside my veins. Her mother hated me, and I had no idea why.

  When her eyes met mine, I saw a restrained plea to just let it go.

  And I did. I held it in for my love’s sake.

  After all, I was the one who invited them over, and she had no say in the matter. Besides, I knew full well that she wouldn’t approve of her mother’s behavior. But the poor thing was still quite weak, and I could tell that she was still delighted that they came at all.

  “Oh, I don’t think I can part with him anytime soon,” Rita mused, still fixing her eyes on the baby’s unmindful face. “Ed,” she turned to her husband, “how long do you think we can stay?”

  Taken aback by her question, he pulled his head back an inch and shook it, shrugging. “A wee—”

  “Please, stay for as long as you want.” Once again, my generous heart couldn’t take that happiness away from Gigi. “The offer to move into the guest house permanently still stands.”

  My eyes, once more, found my wife’s, and they locked. I could see astonishment on her face, since she clearly didn’t think I was going to renew my proposition. Her look spoke volumes, ‘are you sure?’ I could read it in the stare she gave me.

  Without uttering a word, I signaled with a prolonged blink and the shadow of a nod.

  She smiled, her gratitude shining through.

  At dinner, Rita pompously announced that they were going to accept the invitation to stay at the guest house indefinitely. She said it in such a manner that conveyed that she was doing us a favor and overlooking my pride, I thanked her.

  It was the least I could do for my darling wife, being a new young mother with no experience.

  “Russ, we must send for our things to be transferred.” She took a sip of wine.

  “Of course, Dear.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem,” I volunteered. “One of my long-time vendors operates from your town. His crew can have it arranged.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely, Danny Dear. Thank you.” She tilted her head with a forced grin.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Well, it’s only clothes and other personal belongings,” Russ explained. “Obviously, we won’t be needing any of our furniture.”

  “The cottage is really cozy, isn’t it?” Gigi joined in. “It has everything you need.”

  “I’m sure that was your doing, honey,” Rita gleamed.

  “Actually, no.” Gigi shook her head. “It was all Danny.�
��

  “Really?” She drew it out, raising her eyebrows, almost in disbelief. “You have such good taste, Son.” The smile disappeared from her face as she turned her attention to her plate.

  For the few days that followed, I tried my best to stay out of Rita’s way. She was busy helping Gigi with the baby, teaching her the ways and tricks of early motherhood.

  It worked well for me because I had a substantial amount of work to attend to, especially that I had to catch up on a lot of tasks that had taken the backseat during the last days of Gigi’s pregnancy.

  Russ, on the other hand, was light as a breeze. The old man had his own peaceful routine. He would wake up at the break of dawn, just like me, enjoy his coffee out on the porch before we all had breakfast together, and then he would retire to the small library Gigi had created in one of the rooms.

  He would disappear for hours, reading and minding his own business.

  I was beginning to understand where most of Gigi’s traits came from.

  On the second week of their stay, the rest of their belongings arrived. Rita was excited to have her things, and she spent the entire day rearranging the guest house to accommodate everything.

  At dinner, she began contemplating.

  “Lisa Wilkins called me this afternoon.” She addressed Gigi.

  “Oh, how is she and Mr. Wilkins?”

  “They’re very good, in fact—” She turned to Russ. “Their son Tim’s moving back in town, and he’s looking for a house.”

  “Oh yeah?” Russ chewed.

  “They have a child now, bless him. He’s four.”

  Russ quietly nodded.

  “They asked if we’re interested in selling,” she continued.

  “Selling?” His eyes widened, staring at her before he silently turned to Gigi.

  “Well,” Rita shrugged, “we’re staying here, aren’t we?”

  In that regard, the rest became history. The Mans sold their house back home and permanently settled at the smaller house attached to ours. It provided enough space for the two of them. Besides, they were spending most of their days with us in the main house anyway.

  As days went by, Rita’s overbearing disposition grew more obvious, glaring in the face of my new reality. She became more and more comfortable in the household, which prompted her true nature to take over.

  While Gigi was happy to have them there, I was slowly but surely growing weary of Rita’s inflammatory ways.

  Every time I made a suggestion regarding Billy’s feeding, clothing, development, or overall upbringing, she would immediately challenge it with blatant self-importance. Her experience as a mother, in addition to her position as the biological grandmother, rendered her with an unwavering conviction that her word was the Bible, which we should all obey.

  As I rode Art out across the meadow toward the lake, I recalled how antagonistically she objected to my futuristic plans to enroll Billy in the school in town.

  “With all due respect, Danny.” Her voice was devoid of all respect. “We went all out on Gigi’s education, and so should you.”

  “Mom,” Gigi whispered, visibly embarrassed.

  “I’m just saying.” Her pitch grew higher as her face forged a repulsive expression of counterfeit innocence. “You can afford to send him to boarding school.”

  “I don’t think Gigi would want her son to go away like that.”

  “I don’t think she has thought it through yet, has she?”

  “Mom, it’s too soon to discuss this anyway.” Gigi tried to soothe the air.

  Rita shrugged once more, sagging down the corners of her mouth. “He brought up the school. Quite frankly, I don’t know.” She quickly shook her head in dismay. “Looks like another townsfolk school to me. What do you want him to grow up to be, a ran—” She abruptly stopped talking when Gigi shot her a death glare.

  Oh, she was not just about to say that.

  Grinding my teeth, I remained quiet as I watched Gigi quickly and craftily mellow down the subject, moving the conversation toward the carnival in town.

  I saw her eyes desperately plead with her father’s, and witnessed his resigned cooperation as he expressed interest in attending one of the parades.

  As I watched the conversation, it felt as though my chair was being pulled farther away from the table. Like a detached spectator, I could grasp how difficult Rita was to handle, and the tremendous amount of effort that Gigi was expending to tame her mother’s wild neurotic obsession with control.

  Russ’s attempts to help were both sincere and wearied, telling of a man who had been long broken down by his wife’s resolute insistence on having the last word.

  While Rita’s knowledge and support were much appreciated, especially by Gigi, her overall conduct was starting to seriously disturb me.

  I knew that my wife couldn’t help it; after all, she was her mother’s daughter. But why was the woman constantly antagonizing me? Why was she trying to disrespect me in my own house?

  Did she think I was beneath her daughter?

  Did she not want her to marry me in the first place?

  Was my occupation a source of embarrassment of some sort?

  Confident in everything that I was and had accomplished, she wasn’t getting to me in that regard.

  I was her son-in-law, whether she liked it or not.

  She was my guest.

  Inviting them to stay indefinitely was beginning to seem like a huge mistake.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gigi

  On a cool autumn morning, I opened my eyes and was still very tired. I hadn’t slept well the night before, and my body was aching for another couple of hours of rest.

  “Good mornin’ beautiful.” Danny lazily kissed me while we were both still in bed.

  “Mmm,” I moaned, “not yet.” I turned around, burying my face into the pillow.

  “That’s fine. I’ll go check on Billy.” He softly nuzzled my hair with his nose before getting up.

  He left the room, and my eyelids immediately shut again.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed, but Danny came back into the room, huffing and puffing. I sat up, looking at him questioningly. As he shot me a silent glare, he proceeded to change into his work clothes.

  “What’s the matter?” I whispered.

  He stopped buttoning down his shirt. “I got three minutes with him before Rita walked in on us, taking him away from me.”

  “What?” I narrowed my eyes, still a bit dazed.

  “Babe,” he quickly sat down on the edge of the bed, “Didn’t we agree that she was only here to help?”

  “Uh,” in an attempt to wake myself up, I violently scratched my head, “yeah.”

  “Well, she thinks she’s the boss now.” His eyes were dead serious. “I don’t mind that you take her advice with every step. I get that, but—” He shook his head in frustration. “It’s like she doesn’t even want me around him anymore.”

  “Honey, no.” I touched his arm. “I’m sure she doesn’t mean that.”

  “No? Then what was that about?” His hand gestured toward the door. “I was playing with him, he was smiling, everything was fine. Then she appeared and snatched him. Her excuse? He needs a change. I can change him.”

  Once again, my mother was making my life harder instead of easier. “Y’know what? I’ll talk to her.”

  Without offering a response, he silently pushed himself up and resumed getting dressed.

  Wasn’t it bad enough that the man was supporting me and a child that wasn’t even his? What was she thinking?

  After breakfast, Danny left for work, and Dad went out for a walk. I went over to where Mom was sitting with Billy in the living room.

  “How is he?” I smiled.

  “Perfect,” she beamed. “He’s just like you when you were a baby.”

  I forced my smile to grow wider. “And how’s Danny with him?”

  She brushed off the matter with a wave of her hand. “He’s a busy man, what does he k
now about babies.”

  Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I willed myself to stand up for him. “Ahem,” I succeeded in making her look up at me, “Mom…Danny’s my husband, and I have decided that he is Billy’s father. Forever.”

  She tried to make her look seem casual, slightly shrugging. “Of course, Honey. But men don’t know the first thing about the first sensitive months of a child’s life.”

  “I want him to be involved.”

  “Certainly, Sweetie. Whatever you want.”

  “He needs to spend time with our son. I need them to bond,” I stressed.

  “Sure thing, I’d never object to that.” She shook her head. The calmness in her voice almost drove me to the edge.

  “Good,” I concluded before grabbing Billy and getting up. “It’s time for his feeding.”

  The three of us spent the rest of the afternoon together, and as dinnertime approached, I made sure to let Mom do the cooking while I spent some alone time with Billy.

  As dinner started, mom’s demeanor was mild and agreeable. She even offered Danny a bigger serving than usual.

  “You work hard all day; you need your energy,” she grinned.

  “Thanks.” Mirroring her expression, his eyes remained apprehensive. “But this is really too much.”

  “Oh, Danny Boy.” My father chuckled, almost bitterly. “You’ll come to realize that what Rita wants, Rita gets.” There was more truth to his joke than he would admit.

  Danny let out an uneasy titter as he turned to me. Not knowing exactly what to say, I avoided eye contact as I lowered my gaze in resignation.

  My mother was, in fact, a control freak, and there was no changing that.

  What struck me, even more was the fact that she didn’t even try to negate dad’s stinging gag.

  That was the end of the evening since everyone quietly decided not to rock the boat. We ate peacefully, with the occasional story about Mrs. So and So, from my mother’s daily phone stories.

  Dad tried to lighten the mood as he recalled a funny incident that had happened with one of the cows during his morning walk.

  Polite as he always was, Danny listened intently to everything they had said, nodding and chuckling when needed. I could tell that he was practicing a great deal of self-restraint, especially with mother’s provocative attitude toward him.