A Cowboy to Call Daddy
Page 12
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“I NEED BOOTS,” Ivy announced as Eden navigated the stroller through the crowd. The main square of Stonewall Crossing was covered with tents and tables, craft booths and small stages set in each corner for evening entertainment. Market Days and the Labor Day holiday had Stonewall Crossing buzzing with activity.
“Boots?” she asked.
“Lily, too,” Ivy said, looking up at her.
“We’ll see.” Eden smiled at Clara.
“Boots?” Clara shook her head.
“Boots everywhere,” Ivy said. “Blue ones and brown and pink and red...” She kept going.
Eden adjusted Lily’s sun hat, trying to keep her creamy skin protected.
“At least it’s not too hot,” Clara said. “And there’s a lovely breeze.”
Eden nodded. They’d set out after their pancake breakfast to explore before the sun was too high in the sky. She knew Archer wasn’t a fan of working weekends, but she wanted to put in a few hours later—preferably during the girls’ afternoon nap.
Teddy had warned them it would be crowded, but she hadn’t believed him. It took forty minutes to find a parking space. After assessing the crowded brick sidewalks and numerous vendors, Eden put on the front pack and secured Lily, while Ivy was strapped into the less bulky umbrella stroller. But the girls were content, enjoying the Wild West reenactments, clowns and music.
“Look!” Ivy pointed, her feet bouncing up and down. “Animals.”
Sure enough, several long-haired goats sat on the courthouse lawn. An old woman in full pioneer regalia was working a spinning wheel.
“What’s she doing?” Ivy asked.
“Spinning,” Eden said.
“No, she’s not spinning, Momma.” Ivy grinned up at her. “She’s sittin’ still. What’s she doing with the white stuff?”
Eden and Clara laughed.
“It’s called spinning,” Eden said as she pushed the stroller closer. “She turning the sheeps’ hair into fabric.”
“Goats,” the old woman said. “Angora goat. Mohair is soft as silk when it’s cleaned and combed right.”
“I can comb hair,” Ivy volunteered.
The old woman smiled. “I just bet you can.”
Eden’s gaze wandered over the square while Ivy chatted with the old woman. Stonewall Crossing was like something from a different era. The architecture had been preserved, that was clear. If any of the buildings were new, they’d been held to a strict building design. Soda shops, a hardware store, a ladies’ boutique with homemade soaps and lotions, a handful of restaurants, and several clothing shops. And, of course, a boot and hat shop.
If they were going native, boots might be in order.
Let me know when you’ve worked it out.
She’d lived so long reading into what was said and left unsaid she didn’t know how to interpret Archer’s parting words. He had left her feeling elated and terrified. Elated because there was a chance he’d made room for her in his heart. Terrified because she could be completely wrong and her heart was going to be shredded. Just because she wanted his offer to help to mean so much more didn’t mean it did.
And there was still her lie—a lie that woke her up, sweating and breathing hard. Could he forgive her?
“You okay, Eden?” Clara asked.
She nodded. “I want some ice cream.”
Clara’s smile grew. “Sounds good.”
They waved goodbye to the woman and her goats and crossed the street toward the ice-cream parlor.
But the broad shoulders and close-cropped sandy blond hair of one particular cowboy caught her eye. Archer Boone was headed straight for them, a large lizard draped across his shoulders.
Ivy burst into tears.
“What’s the matter?” Eden braced the front pack holding Lily with one arm as she stooped by Ivy’s stroller.
“It’s scary,” Ivy said, peeking between her fingers to look at Archer.
“If Dr. Archer is holding it, I bet it’s not scary,” Eden said. “Isn’t that right?”
Archer stopped. “That’s right.”
She smiled at him, eyeing the dinosaur-esque creature he was holding. “What is it?”
“A friend from the vet hospital.” He smiled right back. “A bearded dragon.”
Ivy squealed. “A dragon?”
Archer laughed. “A little one. No fire. No wings.”
Ivy peeked between her fingers again.
“He won’t hurt you,” Eden offered.
“Want to touch him?” Archer asked.
Ivy shook her head.
“I can take him back to the hospital booth.” It was the first time Eden noticed the large man at Archer’s side.
“Booth?” Clara asked.
“We’ve got animals here for people to see and learn about, part of the veterinary hospital community outreach. Don’t blame her. I’m not much of a reptile man myself.”
Eden smiled.
“Fisher Boone,” the man said. “Archer’s younger, smarter and more charming brother.”
Archer shot him a look. Eden laughed.
“Hand him over.” Fisher took the lizard.
Ivy lowered her hands. “Are you okay, Dr. Archer?”
Archer smiled. “I’m fine. He’s friendly, Ivy, I promise.”
Ivy crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.
“She’s not buying it,” Fisher said. “I wanted to meet you, Miss Caraway. And thank you for helping Archer out. He’s a hell of a lot easier to live with when he gets his way.”
Eden laughed.
Archer sighed. “Just take the lizard back to the booth.”
“What kind of ice cream do you want?” Clara asked Ivy.
“Pink,” Ivy said. “Please.”
“Would you like to join us for ice cream?” Eden asked.
Archer’s gaze shifted to her. “Sounds good.”
Buying ice cream was an ordeal. The shop was crowded and everyone inside seemed to know who Archer was. While Archer tried his best to remain civil, his discomfort was obvious. By the time they’d found a patch of shade under a tree on the courthouse yard, Archer looked ready to run.
“Not really a people person, are you?” she asked, watching Clara and Ivy blowing bubbles in the kids’ section nearby.
He chuckled. “No. Guess not.”
Lily lay on her back, wriggling and cooing. She squirmed and wiggled until she’d flipped herself over.
“Did you see that?” Eden asked, all smiles.
Archer nodded, his eyes fixed on her. The look on his face was soft and warm, made her feel soft and warm.
Lily cooed.
“You did it, little bug.” Eden lay on her side, resting her cheek on the grass beside her daughter. “You’ll be moving in no time. Keep at it.”
Lily rocked back and forth on her knees, her enthusiasm growing with each rock. Eden laughed, offering her more encouragement. But Eden’s attention wandered beyond her wriggling baby girl to the man watching her closely. The look on his face was disconcerting. “What?” she asked.
He shook his head.
She sat up, tugging her shirt into place and running a hand over her hair.
“You’re beautiful, Eden,” he said, shaking his head. “I...like looking at you.” He looked away, his face turning stony.
Her heart took flight, flooding her with unfiltered joy. She moved closer to him. His hand rested on the grass, big and strong. She hesitated, then covered his hand with hers. “Do you?”
His blue eyes met hers as he nodded.
“I like it when you look at me...” Her voice was breathless.
He looked at her hand on his. “I don’t do this.”
She tried to pull back, but he held tight.
“But I’ll try,” he ad
ded, turning his hand over, twining his fingers through hers.
She smiled, happiness welling up in side. “Tell me, Dr. Boone, what do you do for fun?”
He grinned, shaking his head. “Work.”
She nodded at the stage in the corner, the telltale sound of a tuning fiddle reaching them. “Dancing?” she asked.
“Requires a partner,” he said, arching a brow.
“You have one.” She glanced at Lily. “And if Lily turns you down, you can always dance with me.”
He chuckled.
“Momma,” Ivy said around a yawn. “I’m tired.”
Eden glanced at her watch. “Time to head back to the Lodge. Guess you need to get back to help out at the booth?” she asked.
“I can help get the crew loaded up,” he said, scooping Lily into his arms.
Lily stared at him, reaching for his face with both hands. She smiled at him, one hand gripping his nose. He ran a hand over her silken curls and tucked her against his chest, taking Ivy’s hand in his.
Eden followed, struck by just how appealing a picture he presented. Holding her babies, caring for them, without being asked or bothered. Her heart was beating erratically, longing weighing down her chest. This was what she wanted. Someone who’d care for her baby girls, who’d love them. Who’d love her.
Car seats were buckled, the stroller was put away and Eden found herself lingering on the sidewalk. “See you later?” he asked.
“Miss Eden.” Clara’s voice was low. “Why not stay? Unless you need a nap?” She smiled.
“I’d like it if you stayed,” Archer said.
“You would?” Eden asked.
He nodded.
“Have fun,” Clara said, starting the van.
She felt downright giddy. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”
“Good.” His smile warmed her through, confirming what she’d known but been fighting. She had fallen in love with this stubborn, beautiful cowboy.
Chapter Ten
Archer was a private man; his business was his business—no one else’s. But tonight was different. Holding Eden’s hand felt right. If anything, it kept the awkwardness of social situations at bay. People were watching them, but giving them space. When she tugged him onto the dance floor and slipped her arms around his waist, he didn’t resist. How could he? She was in his arms, swaying in time to the music, resting her cheek against his chest. She fit, right there, pressed close. Chances were she heard how out of control his heart was. But that was her fault. He’d held on to her until the music stopped and he had no excuse to keep her against him.
It had been a long time since he’d felt carefree. But showing her every shop on the square, sharing stories about his neighbors and his childhood memories, reminded him there was life outside the refuge. Life he should stop and enjoy when he had the opportunity. Like now.
He bought an iced lemonade and a funnel cake and led her to a wrought iron bench beneath a huge Spanish oak.
“That doesn’t look very appetizing,” she said, eyeing the funnel cake.
“Try it.” He offered her a bite.
She leaned forward, opening her mouth so he could feed her. Powdered sugar rained onto her chin, so he held out a napkin.
“Right there,” he said, pointing out the sugar. “And there.”
She was smiling, laughing—so was he. What more could he want or need?
“This is dangerously yummy,” she said, tearing off another piece and popping it into her mouth. He paused, mid-sip, to watch her lick the powdered sugar from her fingertips. “Mmm, sweet. Maybe a little too sweet.” She wiped her lower lip with her thumb before sucking her finger into her mouth.
And every lick had his body reacting. Archer was in pain. Sudden, hot, aching pain.
“Archer?” she asked. “Want some?” She offered him a bite, holding her hand out.
She had no idea how tempting she was. A temptation he wasn’t going to resist. His fingers encircled her wrist as he stared at the dusting of sugar on her skin. Her skin, coated in sugar. How sweet would she taste? He wanted to find out. He sucked the fried dough she offered into his mouth, letting his tongue slowly trace the dip between her fingers.
Sweet didn’t begin to describe it.
He opened his eyes to find her wide-eyed and dazed. Air hissed from between her lips, and her hand fisted in his hold. She made a sound he’d never heard before, an odd muffled choking sound, before standing abruptly and tugging her hand free.
“Eden?” He stood, turning her to face him.
She stared at his mouth, her breathing uneven.
He grinned. “You liked that?”
She kept staring at his mouth.
He tilted her head back, forcing her to look at him. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to press a kiss against her lips. It was featherlight, a whisper of a kiss. But it was enough to send a powerful surge of hunger coursing through him.
She slid her arms around his waist, and he held her, burying his nose in her hair and drawing her scent deep into his lungs.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Almost nine,” he answered. Vendors were rolling down the tent flaps and packing away their merchandise. It was getting late, and Stonewall Crossing was closing up shop. “There’s dancing at Cutter’s, so most people will head that way.”
“I’m done with crowds for the day, if that’s okay?” she asked.
He nodded. It was more than okay. He’d rather not share her with anyone.
“What are you thinking?” she asked. “Right now.”
He sighed. “I want to be alone with you.”
She smiled. “Where do you want to go?” She paused, a small crease forming between her brows. “Where do you live? I know you don’t sleep at the refuge. There has to be a place you call home.”
He shrugged. “It’s a work in progress.”
“I’d like to see it.”
He nodded, leading her down the dimly lit sidewalks to his truck. He opened the passenger door for her and helped her in.
They drove out of town and headed toward the ranch.
She didn’t say anything, so he asked, “What are you thinking?”
“About this place. It’s beautiful, Archer, so different from my community of garden homes and the highways of Houston.” She glanced at him. “And my family, too, I guess. Missing my mom. Seeing your family together, how close you are...” She paused. “I envy that.” He heard the tremor in her voice and reacted.
He slid his hand across the seat, searching for hers. When her hands gripped his, he waited. He didn’t know when she’d lost her mother. But he did know how hard that loss was. And he’d had the love and support of his family to help him through that. Who did Eden have? Who held her when she cried? Laughed with her? Shared Ivy’s and Lily’s milestones? He couldn’t imagine this woman being alone. He hoped she wasn’t. As long as she wanted to talk, he would gladly listen.
He wasn’t quick to anger, but there was no denying Eden’s father rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t need to meet the man to know she deserved better. Archer didn’t understand how Eden’s father could live with himself, treating his daughter that way. Didn’t the fool know his callous treatment was leaving scars? And by the example he’d set, giving permission for others to do the same.
If she’d stay, he’d make damn sure to treat her with nothing but respect.
He didn’t say much as they bounced along the rutted road that led to his place. At the top of the butte, his cabin stood. The original structure had been incorporated into Archer’s larger creation. His expansion had followed the original style—clean lines, simple details—minus the faulty plumbing and tricky wiring. For all its quirky corners and odd cubbies, the building was solid and safe. It had stayed put through tornadoes, hailstorms and the occasional flash flood.
Archer followed, opening the house and turning on the lights.
Eden paused inside, staring around her.
“We call it the Hunters’ House,” he said. “When my great-great-grandfather was settling this area, he had groups of friends that would stop over. And since my great-great-grandmother didn’t like having a bunch of men underfoot, this was where they went. I guess it was their hangout. You could drink and cuss and smoke and no one cared.”
Eden was still investigating.
The original structure wasn’t big. Two stories, the upstairs overlooking the downstairs with a balcony-like landing. Since wooden outhouses were inconvenient, Archer had added a long wing off the back, turning the two-bedroom, no-bath home into a four-bedroom, three-bath home. Since cooking over an open fire wasn’t Archer’s preference, he’d added a nice kitchen to accommodate a large range, refrigerator and other modern conveniences.
But the hand-hewn wooden walls with white clay and ground stone mortar were impressive. He’d done the best he could to preserve the intricate details cut into the window casing, door frames and stair edges. He’d salvaged some original glass panes, thick and bubbled, for the downstairs windows. He was especially proud of the large mantel and fireplace he and his brothers had taken apart, refitted to prevent smoke leaks and reassembled.
“It’s amazing,” Eden said.
He ran his hand along the mantel, watching her take note of all the details. She’d notice; she was a detail person. Like him.
“I’m thinking the Boones were a hardworking crew. Meaning nothing changes.” She smiled at him, moving toward the bookcases that lined the back wall.
“They had to be, as some of the first settlers. A focused, determined crew.”
She smiled at him. “Guess some traits are too strong to fade with time.”
He grinned. “I consider them both assets.” He closed the distance, wanting to be close to her. Wanting to touch her. “A person can’t succeed without determination.”
“And focus?” she asked.