Stand-Up Cowboy

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  She arched a brow. “I’m going for quality, not quantity.”

  “Ever eaten a burnt one?”

  “More than I wanted to. I burned plenty as a kid and sometimes while helping Georgie. I prefer this kind.”

  “Are they done yet, Mama?” Movement under the blanket indicated someone was getting impatient.

  “Almost, son.”

  Garrett skewered another one and held it over the fire. “How does Georgie like his marshmallows?”

  “Lightly toasted.”

  “Want s’mores, Mama.” Georgie lifted a corner of the blanket.

  “Would you like to help? You can put the chocolate on the graham cracker so it’s ready when I finish roasting your marshmallow. If you make two like that, we can eat these at the same time.”

  No response from under the blanket. But there was subtle movement. Garrett glanced away. Georgie wasn’t much different from a colt who’d been mistreated early in life. Or a boy.

  Garrett recognized the fear and distrust, another reason he was the right man to help Georgie lose it. If he didn’t look at the kid, Georgie might hold onto his illusion of invisibility, even without the blanket.

  Sure enough, the swish of the blanket and the scrape of a cracker on a plate told him Georgie had slid out from the safety of his cocoon and was arranging the crackers and chocolate. His breathing was fast, like he was working quickly so he could dive back under the blanket when he was done.

  Garrett continued to gaze in the opposite direction. Maybe he’d hit on a partial solution for sharing space with this little guy. If so, then—

  His phone chimed. He’d left it on the kitchen table. Henri’s ring. Odd, since she’d talked with Anna not long ago. If it was a small matter, she would have texted him.

  “Excuse me a minute,” he murmured. “I’d better take this.”

  The blanket rustled. No doubt Georgie was back under it. That was a shame. Laying his fork with a slightly-warmed marshmallow on the hearth, he headed for the table and picked up his phone. “Hey, Henri.”

  “Are you available?”

  “Um… yes, ma’am.” Henri didn’t ask on the spur-of-the-moment unless it was critical.

  “Good. Then please come up to the house as soon as you can. A cowboy claiming to be Jake’s half-brother just arrived.”

  Garrett told Anna what Henri had said, added her phone number to his phone contacts and promised to be in touch. Then he lit out.

  The drive to the main house took about five minutes and he packed that time with a million unanswerable questions. Jake had mentioned that his folks had married and divorced each other several times. His mom had often accused his dad of carrying on with other women during the periods when they were divorced.

  But Jake had cut off contact with his dysfunctional parents quite a while ago. Although the possibility of a half-brother existed, for him to show up here, to even know where to look for Jake, was unlikely. Was it a scam of some sort?

  Jake’s truck wasn’t parked in front of Henri’s so he and Millie hadn’t arrived yet. Garrett considered waiting for him and decided against it. Henri needed backup. She had Ben there, but maybe that wasn’t enough.

  Being summoned to aid Henri was a privilege he didn’t take lightly. She leaned on him more these days, possibly because he was the only unattached wrangler on the ranch, the man she could call on because she wouldn’t be dragging him away from his sweetheart.

  Her trust and maternal affection filled a void he hadn’t acknowledged until coming to work at the Buckskin. Like the other members of the Brotherhood, he’d had a lousy childhood. Henri was the parent he’d longed for. He’d do anything for her.

  An unfamiliar truck sat next to Ben’s. Must belong to this supposed half-brother. It was covered in dried mud, bits of ice and slush. Clearly it had been on the highway for a couple of days, maybe more. The license plate was obscured with muck, too. No telling where this guy hailed from.

  Garrett took the porch steps two at a time and went inside without knocking. That was another privilege he didn’t take lightly.

  Leaving his hat on the ornate coat tree in the entry, he unbuttoned his coat but left it on as he walked into the living room. He might need to invite this guy outside for a serious discussion.

  They were all standing in a loose circle, and the stranger had on his coat, too, but his hat was in his hand. At least he had some manners. And… what the hell? Who was the little blond girl? She looked to be around eight, dressed in jeans, boots and a bright red parka.

  Everyone turned in his direction and Henri came toward him. “Garrett, I’d like you to meet Zeke Lassiter and his daughter Claire. Zeke and Claire, this is Garrett Whittaker, one of our wranglers and a trusted friend.”

  Zeke held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Garrett.”

  Garrett formed his first impression of folks by their grip during a handshake. Zeke had a good one, firm without being aggressive. That didn’t mean he was legit, but it was a start.

  The guy had said the accepted thing, that he was pleased to meet him. He opened his mouth to say… something that wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t pleased to meet this guy. He was concerned about his sudden appearance and worried that he had an angle of some kind. What to say in response?

  Then his daughter thrust out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Whittaker.”

  He shook her hand. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t her doing. “Pleased to meet you, too, Miss Lassiter.”

  “You can call me Claire. But I’m supposed to call you Mister Whittaker because you’re an adult. I’m just a kid.”

  “A very polite kid.”

  “Thank you. My daddy taught me how to speak to adults. He says they deserve my respect, unless they turn out to be jerks. Then I’m not supposed to talk to them at all. I can give them the cold shoulder.”

  “I sure wouldn’t want to get the cold shoulder.”

  “You won’t. I can already tell you’re not a jerk. You’re a cowboy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a smile and gazed at Zeke. A guy with a little girl like Claire couldn’t be all bad.

  The front door opened and Millie came straight into the living room without pausing, followed by Jake, who grabbed his hat from his head as he barreled into the room. He looked like he was ready to hit something. Or somebody.

  He screeched to a halt, his eyes widening. “My God.” He sucked in a breath. “You look just like him.”

  “My misfortune.” Zeke stared back, turning his hat in his hands, nervously fingering the brim. “I hope you won’t hold that against me.”

  Henri glanced from one to the other. “I guess that answers the question of whether Zeke’s telling the truth.”

  Jake nodded, his expression stunned. “He is.” His attention shifted to Claire. “Your daughter?”

  “Yes. This is Claire.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I…I can’t…” Jake continued to stare, clearly at a loss for words.

  Tense silence reigned until Henri broke it. “Zeke asked if I can use his help on the ranch. The fact is, I can, since you’re so busy with Raptors Rise these days. But it’s your call.”

  Jake took another deep breath. Then he studied his half-brother for several seconds. “We…” He paused to clear his throat. “We set a high standard at the Buckskin. We’re a close-knit group. I’m okay with Henri giving you a chance, but unless you’re willing to work hard and pull your weight, you being my half-brother means nothing.”

  “I’ll work hard. I’ll do whatever needs doing. I want to stay. I want to get to know you, Jake. I want Claire to get to know you.”

  The little girl gave him a smile.

  Jake’s breath hitched. “Hello, Claire.”

  “Hello, Uncle Jake.”

  “That brings us to the next decision.” Henri turned to Garrett. “Zeke figured on staying in the bunkhouse.”

  “That’s fine. Plenty of beds.”

  “Claire wants to stay there, too.”<
br />
  His jaw dropped. “But—”

  “I promise I won’t be any trouble, Mr. Whittaker.” Her words came in a rush, her expression eager. “I’ll keep out of your way, unless you need me to help with something. I’m a good helper and I’ve always wanted—”

  “Claire, you and your daddy are welcome to stay with us,” Millie said. “It’s not a bunkhouse, but it is a log cabin. We don’t exactly have a guest room yet, but we can figure something out.” She glanced at Jake, who nodded.

  “Thank you, ma’am, but I’m going to be a wrangler like my daddy when I grow up. I’ve always wanted to live in a real bunkhouse with real cowboys.” She turned back to Garrett. “I’ll do my part with the chores. I’m good at chores. Please say it’s okay. Please.”

  He was at a loss. A little girl in the bunkhouse? It would require some major changes in protocol. Increased modesty, for one thing. Monitoring language for another.

  What about the Brotherhood overnights? She’d have to stay with Henri for those. No way should an innocent kid be present for that kind of blowout.

  “We could try it for a while, at least.” Henri gave him a quick smile. “See how it goes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” And that was that. Life as he knew it was officially over.

  Chapter Six

  Anna never had trouble getting Georgie up and dressed for daycare. He loved Erica, the woman who ran it, and the kids he played with, especially Carl. Thank goodness she could afford it. The socialization was so good for him.

  When she’d explained that Henri would be giving them a ride this morning, he powered through his breakfast, too. Miss ’enri was coming.

  He sounded like a British kid when he said her name. She’d made a good impression from the get-go, and a ride in her truck added extra excitement to Georgie’s day.

  “When is Miss ’enri coming, Mama?”

  “In about two minutes.” She was eager to see Henri, too. Garrett had texted her the night before. Jake’s half-brother had moved into the bunkhouse, along with the guy’s eight-year-old daughter. Anna wanted to know more of the story.

  She tugged Georgie into his blue hooded snowsuit and zipped it up. “We’ll wait on the porch.”

  “Yep.” He started for the door.

  “Hang on. Wait for Mama.” He was all about doors since he’d grown tall enough to turn the knob.

  “Wanna go out.”

  “In a minute.” He couldn’t reach the deadbolt, which was her saving grace.

  Taking her parka off the coat tree, she shoved her arms into the sleeves and grabbed the duffle bag containing a change of clothes in case he spilled something on what he was wearing. His to-go bag was less complicated now that he was potty-trained.

  She looped her purse over her shoulder and checked to make sure her keys were inside.

  Georgie jiggled in place by the door. “Come on. Miss ’enri’s coming!”

  “Okay. I’m ready.” She walked to the door, flicked the deadbolt and put her hand on the knob. “Don’t run out on the porch. Remember what happened yesterday.”

  “I felled down.”

  “What are you going to do today?”

  He sighed in resignation. “Go slow.”

  “That’s right. Me, too. It’s icy and slippery.”

  “Heat Miser could melt it, Mama!”

  “He sure could. Too bad he’s not here.” A week before Christmas, Carl’s mom had loaned her an old DVD of The Year Without a Santa Claus. He’d watched it at least a hundred times.

  He’d expected that version of Santa to show up at his house. Instead, Santa had turned out to be a full-grown man, much taller and more imposing than the jolly fellow in the movie. Only the familiar outfit and the promise of a little moose had kept him out on the porch that night.

  No sooner had she shepherded Georgie out the door and locked up than Henri drove in, her headlights sweeping the front parking area. Technically the sun was up, but it was still hidden behind the mountains.

  The cabin’s front-porch light illuminated Henri’s buckskin-tan long-bed sporting a ranch logo on the side panel of the front passenger door. The truck was only a few months old and Henri was proud of it.

  “It’s Miss ’enri!” Georgie would have bounded down the steps if she hadn’t put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Easy does it, son.”

  Henri swung down from the cab and rounded the front of the truck, her boots cracking the frozen ground under her feet. “Good morning! Didn’t expect to find you waiting on the porch.”

  “I didn’t want to put you out any more than necessary.”

  “Like I said last night, this gives me another chance to spend time with Georgie.” She paused at the bottom of the steps and met his gaze. “How’re you doing, cowboy?”

  “Cowboy?”

  “You’re not a cowboy?’

  “No.”

  Anna gave him a nudge.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “I would’ve sworn you were. Do you want to be one?”

  Georgie turned back to Anna, looking for guidance.

  “You’d make a great cowboy,” she said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “I only ask because…” Henri crouched down and pulled a toddler-sized Stetson from behind her back. “I happen to have this in case you’d like to have it.”

  Anna gasped. “Henri, that’s adorable, but I’ll pay you for—”

  “It’s my gift to Georgie, if he wants it. All the wranglers wear a hat like this. I thought he might like one, too.”

  Georgie came to the edge of the steps and squatted in an exact mimic of Henri as he studied the hat. “Grit has one, Mama.”

  “Yes, he does, son.”

  Henri glanced at Anna. “Grit?”

  “Garrett. He calls him Grit.”

  “I see.” Amusement danced in her eyes as her attention shifted to Georgie. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to. I just thought—”

  “I want it.” He held out one pudgy hand.

  “Then it’s yours. Would you like help putting it on?”

  “No.”

  “Georgie—”

  “No, ma’am.” He took the hat and crammed it on over his snowsuit hood.

  Henri grinned. “That works.”

  “Say thank you, son.”

  “Thank you, Miss ’enri.”

  “You’re welcome, Georgie. It suits you.” She stood and turned to Anna. “How will we work this between here and your car, when we pick up his car seat?”

  “Yesterday I held him on my lap and Garrett belted us in together.”

  “Then we’ll do that. Approximately where is—”

  “Just beyond that sharp curve at the bottom of the hill.”

  “Got it. Let’s go.”

  Belting the two of them in together wasn’t as smooth now that Georgie was wearing a cowboy hat. He didn’t care for the idea of taking it off, either. Anna settled him as best she could. The brim of the hat poked her in the chest, but it wouldn’t be for long.

  Once Henri pulled away from the cabin, Anna finally had a moment to ask about Jake’s half-brother. “Garrett texted me that he has roommates again.”

  Henri chuckled. “Yes, he does. Zeke Lassiter and his daughter Claire. She’s a pip. Garrett wasn’t too sure about having her in the bunkhouse, but I predict she’ll have him wrapped around her little finger in no time.”

  “How’s Jake doing? He had to be blindsided.”

  “He was, but there’s no doubt Zeke’s his half-brother. Evidently he’s the spitting image of their father when he was younger.”

  “I don’t get to spit,” Georgie mumbled.

  “Spitting image is an expression,” Anna said. “It means two people look alike.”

  “Do they spit?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Miss ’enri said they spit.”

  “But she didn’t mean it that way. It’s—”

  “I don’t get to spit.”

  Henri murmured s
orry under her breath.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Hey, Georgie.” Henri glanced at him. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

  “Make ’mores.”

  “I like that, too.”

  “Grit maked ’mores.”

  “Did you do that with him last night?”

  Georgie hesitated. “No.”

  Anna gave him a nudge.

  “No, ma’am. Mama, why can’t I spit?”

  “It’s bad manners.”

  “Carl spits.”

  “Yes, and Carl’s mama doesn’t like it. She’s told him not to.”

  “But he spits. He—”

  “Why don’t you tell Miss Henri about your moose?”

  “You have a moose, Georgie?”

  “Yes.” He took a quick breath. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Does your moose have a name?”

  “Carl.”

  “You must have named your moose after your friend.”

  “Yep.”

  “I have a moose.”

  “You do?” The brim of Georgie’s hat scraped across Anna’s chest as he turned to gawk at Henri. “From Santa?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. From Santa. I named my moose Ben.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Sure. Come to my house sometime and I’ll show you.”

  “Mama, can we go?”

  “We’ll find a time.”

  “Can I take Carl?”

  “You mean your moose?”

  “Yep. He wants to go.”

  “Then we should arrange a meeting between Ben and Carl,” Henri said. “Your mama and I will set it up.”

  “Okay!”

  “The curve’s just ahead. Your car’s just beyond that, you said?”

  “Off on the left-hand side.”

  Henri slowed as she rounded the curve. “This curve is tricky after a storm.”

  “Especially if you can’t slow down. There’s my car.” She sucked in a breath as it came into view.

  Henri eased up on the gas and glanced over. “Oh, honey.” She put on the brakes and turned on her blinkers. “That makes my tummy clench.”

  “Mine too. It looks worse than I remembered.”

  “Put your faith in Garrett. He’s a good mechanic. I didn’t realize that until recently when CJ needed some work done on his aging truck and Garrett offered to help. CJ couldn’t say enough about Garrett’s expertise.”