Stand-Up Cowboy

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Stand-Up Cowboy Page 2

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond


  “And if you were, I’ll bet you wouldn’t say so. You’ve been awesome through this whole episode. I don’t know what your dinner plans are, but—”

  “Just fixing something for myself at the bunkhouse. I’m batching it there for now. Leo spends most of his free time with Fiona.”

  “Then let me cook dinner for you. It’s the least I can do.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to cook for her, instead. Preparing food for others was another one of his favorite things, and since the members of the Brotherhood only gathered at the bunkhouse once a month, he didn’t get that pleasure as often. He had several dinner options in the shopping bags.

  But clearly she was looking for a way to thank him for helping her through a crisis. A wise man would shut up and let her do that. He hadn’t always been wise, but now that he lived on the Buckskin Ranch, he was gaining wisdom every day.

  He glanced over at her. “I’m grateful for the invitation. It’s not much fun eating alone.”

  Chapter Two

  Anna finished off her cookie and began cleaning up the crumbs Georgie had dropped. Feeding Garrett was the decent and obvious gesture to make, if it didn’t backfire on her.

  It wasn’t a date. She’d vowed not to date until Georgie was older — much older. She also hadn’t cooked for anyone other than Georgie in more than a year. And Georgie likely wouldn’t react well to having Garrett in the house.

  As he parked in front of the guest cabin Henri had offered as part of her salary, she began to fret about whether she’d tidied up enough. The interior of his truck had been spotless before Georgie had scattered crumbs everywhere.

  Maybe she could buy some time. “You can just drop me off.” She looked over at him. “You probably want to take your groceries to the bunkhouse.”

  “Don’t need to. In this weather, they’ll be fine in the truck.” He switched off the engine. “I’ll come around and help you out.”

  “Thank you.” So much for making a quick sweep of the house and wiping off sticky surfaces. She unbuckled the seatbelt. “We’re home, Georgie.”

  “Where’s the man?”

  “His name is Garrett.”

  Georgie stood on her lap, peered out the windshield and pointed. “There! Grit’s coming, Mama.”

  “To help us out.”

  “No.”

  “It’s fine, Georgie. He’s eating with us tonight.”

  “In my house?”

  “In our house.” Georgie had recently started identifying what was his and he’d claimed the entire guest cabin.

  “Don’t want Grit in my house.”

  “He’s a very nice—” The passenger door opened.

  “I can take him.” Garrett reached for Georgie.

  “No, no Grit!” He drew back.

  She snugged him against her hip. “That’s okay. I’ve got him.” She started to reach for the handle on the truck’s doorframe.

  “I’ll help you down.”

  She glanced at him standing in the glow of the cab’s dome light with his hand outstretched. Her heart did a fast two-step. His eyes were light green, almost blue.

  And the way he was looking at her filled her chest with warmth and longing. That hadn’t happened in a very long time. She put her hand in his strong grip and stepped on the running board.

  “Mama, no! No Grit!” Georgie began to struggle.

  “He’s not going to take you, son.” She tightened her hold and Garrett steadied her as she climbed down. “Sorry about that,” she murmured.

  “Don’t want Grit,” Georgie muttered loud enough for Garrett to hear.

  “Would it be better if I didn’t stay?”

  She met his gaze. A tropical sea. She’d never seen one except in pictures, but his eyes were exactly that color. “I’d like you to stay if you’re willing. I don’t want certain people to think they’re in charge.”

  He flashed her a quick smile. “Understood. Did he just call me Grit?”

  “’Fraid so.”

  “No worries. I kind of like it.”

  “Give me a moment with him, please.”

  “Absolutely.”

  She carried Georgie to the porch, sat on one of the Adirondack chairs and settled him on her lap. “Georgie, look at me.”

  He made eye contact with obvious reluctance. “Don’t want Grit, Mama.”

  “I know. But he’s staying for dinner. He’s our guest.”

  His expression grew stormy.

  “He rescued us. Like we rescued the bird at the other house. Remember?”

  He nodded. “He was stuck.”

  “We took off the string around his leg. We rescued him.”

  “He flyed away.”

  “Yes, but I’m sure he was grateful.”

  “But he flyed away.” He turned toward Garrett. His logic was flawed but his implication was clear. Time for their rescuer to fly away. The sooner, the better.

  “Garrett is staying for dinner. I want you to be nice to him and mind your manners.”

  He sighed and nodded.

  “You could show him your moose.”

  “No.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  His no, ma’am was barely audible, but she’d take it. “Okay, then. Let’s go inside.” Setting him on his feet, she stood and fished her keys out of her purse. “Thanks for waiting!” she called out to Garrett. “Come on in. We’ll make a fire and have s’mores for dessert.”

  Georgie gasped with delight. “’mores?”

  “If you’re a good boy.” Bribing him with food was setting a bad precedent, but if it got her through the evening, she’d do a course correction in the morning. She unlocked the door.

  The minute she opened it, Georgie rushed inside. “My house.” He started to close the door.

  She put a hand on it. “Georgie.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “My house.” Then he dashed away.

  “I love s’mores.” Garrett climbed the porch steps and followed her into the house. “Haven’t had them in a while, either.”

  “They’re one of Georgie’s favorites.” She flicked the switch by the door that turned on a lamp in the living room.

  Her son had disappeared, but the light was on in his bedroom, revealing his whereabouts. She’d put a stool next to the wall and using it to reach the switch thrilled him.

  She glanced around. His wooden train set lay in disarray in front of the fireplace and the worn blanket he’d used to make a tent was draped over the couch, but otherwise the room was in decent shape.

  When she turned on the light hanging over the round kitchen table, his cereal bowl sat there. She’d run out of time to supervise having him carry it to the sink.

  “This is nice,” Garrett said. “I haven’t been in one of Henri’s new two-bedroom cabins.”

  “It’s a luxury for me. The little house I was renting was a one-bedroom. Georgie loves having his own space.” She removed her jacket and hung it on the coat tree by the door. “Can I take your—”

  “Thanks. I’ve got it.” He shrugged out of his shearling jacket and settled it on a hook. His hat joined it. “This is probably one of Henri’s antique finds.”

  “I thought it looked old.”

  “She haunts the antique shops searching for coat trees.”

  The sound of a childish voice carrying on a conversation drifted from Georgie’s bedroom.

  Garrett glanced at her. “Is he on the phone?”

  “He’s talking to his moose.”

  “The one he got from Operation Santa?”

  “Yep. He liked the other toys, but he adores that little plush moose. He named it after his bestie at daycare. When he’s upset, he tells his troubles to Carl.”

  “Leo will be glad to hear the moose is a hit.”

  “I keep meaning to tell him, and apologize about Georgie kicking him, but our paths don’t cross. I see Jake and Millie all the time, but everybody else, not so much.”

  “Does Georgie get along with Jake?”


  “Not really. He’s not good with men in general, and it didn’t help that he spent the past year almost exclusively with me.” She paused. A good hostess would offer a beverage at this point. She was so out of practice. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Only if you’ll join me.”

  “Sure. I have some cider in the fridge.”

  “Perfect.”

  She headed for the kitchen nook and turned on the oven to preheat it. Then she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a package of chicken breasts. “I was planning on having these for dinner.” She usually baked several at once so she’d have leftovers. But she’d happily forego leftovers to provide Garrett with a hearty meal.

  “Sounds great. Can I help?”

  She hesitated. This was getting cozier by the minute but his friendly offer appealed to her. “That would be nice.” She handed him a bottle of cider and an opener.

  “Don’t need that, thanks.” He twisted off the cap.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” She popped the cap off a second bottle.

  “I’m used to it. Tough hands.”

  Strong hands. Callused? Maybe, but his warm grip had stirred a yearning she’d be wise to squelch.

  He tipped his bottle in her direction. “Here’s to surviving a ruptured brake line.”

  “With your help.” She tapped her bottle to his and took a sip. “If you hadn’t forced me to run into the snowbank…”

  “All’s well that ends well.” He took a swallow of his cider. “But let’s not do that again, okay?”

  She smiled. “Okay. Were you scared?”

  “I was. Bad enough when I thought you were some crazy stranger, but when you mentioned Georgie and I realized you were one of us…” He took a deep breath. “Not good.”

  “That’s sweet, since you don’t really know me.”

  “Technically I don’t, but Jake brags on you quite a bit. And Henri’s told me she’s impressed with how you’re raising Georgie.”

  She made a face. “If she’d seen his performance tonight, she might not be so impressed.”

  “Has he always disliked men?”

  She hesitated. Not her favorite topic.

  “Hey, if that was too personal, you don’t have to—”

  “The answer is yes, he has. Brad, my ex, was extremely jealous of the attention I gave Georgie. I hadn’t seen that coming. After ten months of living in hell, I’d squirreled away enough to leave.”

  Compassion warmed his gaze. “Sounds grim.”

  “It was harder on Georgie than me. In that time, he learned that men are scary people who yell, slam doors and break dishes.”

  “Does Georgie see him now?”

  “No, thank goodness. He took a job selling real estate in Texas.”

  “Child support?”

  She shook her head. “I was thrilled to be rid of him. Tracking him down and forcing him to pay would be a nasty business.”

  “Seems wrong that he can abandon his responsibility, though.”

  “It is wrong, but I’ve made peace with that in exchange for never having to see him again. I would have been fine if the insurance agent I worked for hadn’t decided to retire early and move to Florida.”

  “But hey, you ended up with a more interesting job.”

  “That’s for sure.” She gestured around the cabin. “And a fabulous place to live, with new appliances instead of the dicey ones in the house I’d rented. Speaking of appliances, the oven’s preheated so I’d better get the chicken ready.”

  “Put me to work.”

  “You can fix the potatoes. I usually make country fries but you’re welcome to do something else with them if you want.”

  “Country fries are my favorite. I like browning them in a skillet and then baking them, if that works for you.”

  “That’s how I do it.” Any anxiety she’d had about feeding this man evaporated. He was easy. The evening might turn out to be fun, after all. For her, anyway. Georgie wasn’t happy about the situation, but she’d stand firm on her decision to host Garrett in their house.

  Chapter Three

  “Ever eaten with a two-year-old?”

  “Can’t say I have.” Garrett finished browning the potatoes, transferred them to a baking dish and added a few spices from a drawer next to the stove.

  Sharing dinner preparation with Anna was easy. They worked at a similar speed and hadn’t bumped into each other once. Cooking alongside Jake was smooth like that.

  Meal prep with Anna had the added buzz of a slow-burn mutual attraction. Jake’s and Henri’s praise had made him eager to meet her. Now that he had, her smile and the sparkle in her dark eyes teased him with possibilities.

  “I should stop calling Georgie a two-year-old.” She brought out ingredients for a tossed salad and a baguette for the garlic toast she wanted to add to the meal. “He’ll be three in April, so he’s not nearly as messy with his food.”

  “Not messy, Mama!”

  Garrett turned as Georgie tore out of the kitchen nook and back into his room. “Did you know he was spying on us?”

  “I saw him. I decided to pretend he wasn’t there and give him a compliment.”

  “I hate that he’s spooked by me.”

  “It’s not personal. It wouldn’t matter what man was standing in the kitchen.” She handed him the baguette, a breadboard and a knife.

  He started slicing. “Seems like it would be good to have him spend time with men who don’t yell and throw things.” Or one man, namely him.

  “Carl’s mom suggested that, to desensitize him, but I’m not sure how to go about it.” She set the table for three. One chair had a booster seat and she put smaller utensils at that place. “I’m not hauling him to work with me so he can get used to Jake. That would be unprofessional. And I can’t ask some guy to come hang out in the evening so I can reprogram my son.”

  “Why not? I’d do it.”

  She stared at him. “That makes no sense. You have a life, things to do. For all I know you’re dating someone and—”

  “Not at the moment. Leo and I are the only two wranglers in the bunkhouse and he’s hardly ever there at night. I could spend some time over here. I don’t yell and break dishes.”

  “I’m sure you don’t, but—”

  “It might not take all that long. A few quiet evenings might be enough to show him all men aren’t scary.”

  “I think that’s overly optimistic, but since it sounds like you have some free time….”

  “And I’m really not a fan of eating alone.”

  “I’ll admit it’s an interesting idea.” Her tone was businesslike, matter-of-fact. She almost hid the flash of awareness in her eyes by glancing away.

  “Then let’s do it. His mistrust of men isn’t a huge problem now, but what happens if his first-grade teacher is a guy?”

  “I’ve thought of that scenario. Even if it’s not his first-grade teacher, it’ll be someone down the line. His pediatrician is a woman but she could move. It’ll become an issue eventually.”

  “Let me help, Anna.” Yeah, he had an ulterior motive, but he also wanted to help her kid.

  “Just to be clear, our time together wouldn’t be a date.”

  “Right.” So much for his ulterior motive. If she felt the need to emphasize that fact, he’d honor her wishes.

  “I’m not dating anyone until Georgie’s… I don’t know. Maybe in college? I made him suffer for one bad choice. I won’t risk putting him through anything like that again.”

  “I understand.” Georgie wasn’t the only person who’d been traumatized by that dude. She was gun-shy and he didn’t blame her. Those ten months must have been even worse than she’d let on.

  “We’re almost ready to eat. I’ll go find out if Georgie will be joining us tonight.”

  “I don’t know how he could resist the aroma of that chicken.” He glanced toward Georgie’s bedroom as she headed in that direction. If the little guy had crept out to watch them fix dinner, th
at was a positive sign. He might be scared, but he was curious, too.

  “Time to wash your hands for dinner, Georgie,” she called out.

  A little face peeked around the doorframe and popped back inside. Anna walked into the room and the two of them talked in low tones. She was in there quite a while.

  She came out alone. “He wants you to leave, but I’ve told him you’re not going to.”

  “Is he hungry?”

  “Yes, so I have a couple of options. I can tell him no dinner unless he comes out and eats with us. Or I can offer to take him his food if he agrees to leave the door open.”

  “I don’t think forcing him to be with me is a good way to go.”

  She gazed at him. “You’re right. It’s not. The disciplinarian in me wanted to take that first route, but if he leaves the door open he can hear us and get used to you being in the house.”

  “And he can spy on us if he wants to.”

  She smiled. “Which he probably will. I’ll go see if he’ll take that deal.” Moments later she was back. “He went for it.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll get his tray ready. Would you be willing to start a fire? He reminded me about s’mores, and that might be what finally brings him out.”

  “I’m on it.” He crossed to the living area and moved the wooden train, a set much like the one he’d longed for as a kid. Georgie had drawn the crummy dad card, but his awesome mother made up for it.

  By the time he had a fire crackling on the grate, she’d returned from taking Georgie his meal.

  “He heard you making a fire.”

  Placing the folding screen in front of it, he stood. “Let me guess. He doesn’t want Grit to stay for s’mores.”

  “He doesn’t, but I told him I promised you could have some, and I keep my promises.”

  “So do I.” He held her gaze for a moment, enjoying the tell-tale flicker of emotion in her eyes. “Ready to eat?”

  “I’m starving. Evidently crashing my car into a snowbank gave me an appetite. Is it okay if we just dish ourselves from the pans?”

  “As opposed to what?” He followed her over to the kitchen nook.

  “Oh, you know. Putting the potatoes in a nice bowl and arranging the chicken on a platter that we bring to the table.” She took two plates out of the cupboard and handed him one.

 

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