Operation Cowboy Daddy

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Operation Cowboy Daddy Page 8

by Carla Cassidy


  He looked at her in surprise. “Why was it a mistake? We’re two adults who have an intense attraction to each other. We acted on that attraction tonight and there’s nothing to stop us from acting on it again.”

  “I’m stopping it. Our relationship should remain social and not intimate, if nothing else but for the sake of Joey. Any continued intimacy will only complicate things between us. Besides, I’m just not interested in that kind of a relationship with you.”

  She hated the darkness that crept into his eyes, the frown on his lips and the lines of concern across his forehead.

  “Okay, Mary. Of course I’ll honor your wishes.” He got up from the sofa. “And now I guess I should go.”

  “Yes, it’s getting late and I’m tired.” Relief shuddered through her as she walked him to the front door. It was done. She’d had him for a few minutes, and for those minutes had felt like a real woman, but now it was definitely done.

  He turned to her and before she realized his intention he slowly trailed a finger down the side of her face, his gaze holding hers intently.

  “Mary, whatever is between us is like a force of nature. I’m not sure either of us can control it.” He dropped his hand back to his side.

  “I can,” she replied firmly. She had to. “We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  With a nod of agreement he left the house. She moved to the window, watched until his truck lights were swallowed by the dark of night and then went back into her bedroom.

  A force of nature, yes, that was what had occurred tonight. It had been a hurricane that rained want, a tornado that had blown need and a volcano spewing white-hot flames of desire.

  It could never happen again. Tonight she had controlled how things had unfolded between them. She had made sure that it was fast and frantic and without any foreplay, other than what she had done to him.

  She couldn’t take a chance that she’d be in control the next time and so there would never be a next time. There was no question that her feelings for Tony were growing, but she had to resist them...and him.

  Stepping out of her skirt, she remembered how warm, how wonderful he’d felt against her. It had been so many years ago that she’d been in any man’s arms. Tony’s kisses had been magic and she would have loved to kiss him forever.

  She tossed her skirt to the floor and then pulled off her T-shirt and threw it aside as well. A faint tremble began in her legs as she drew in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes tightly closed.

  Turn around. Open your eyes and look at yourself, a little voice whispered in her head. Remember how it was when you thought Rick loved you enough and then he turned away from you in revulsion.

  He swore he was in love with you, but he couldn’t deal with the reality of your scars. Men don’t want damaged goods.

  Slowly she turned around to face the mirror she hadn’t looked in for years. She still trembled when she opened her eyes and stared at the naked woman in the reflection.

  Not a real woman, not with real breasts. They were the lumps that a plastic surgeon had put on her chest, lumps that were bisected with scars and without nipples.

  They had no feeling, no sensations left for any kind of pleasure. They couldn’t nurse a child. They were just useless lumps to fill out a blouse in an attempt to look normal.

  Rick had told her he loved her, but the first time they were going to be intimate when he saw her naked, he just couldn’t deal with it and he’d run. That had been two years ago and nothing had changed. Her body was still ugly enough that no man could ever love her.

  She whirled around from her reflection as a sharp grief stabbed into her heart and squeezed her stomach. She grabbed her nightgown and yanked it on as tears burned hot at her eyes.

  She turned off her bedroom light and crawled beneath the covers on her bed as the tears began to fall and she unleashed uncontrollable sobs.

  Choctaw women were the givers of life. That was their place in the world, but Mary would never bear a child of her own. She would never have a husband or a family to love and support.

  When she’d gotten ovarian cancer, she’d had no real choice. It was either have a hysterectomy or die and she’d chosen life. Because her mother and her mother’s sister had both died of breast cancer, Mary had the genetic testing done. The test had come back with bad news. She had the BRCA gene mutation and as a result she faced another life-and-death decision.

  Once again she had chosen life and had a double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery. It had been the safe thing to do. It had been the smart thing to do, all her doctors had assured her.

  “You’re a survivor,” they’d told her.

  The surgeon’s work had made her appear normal when clothed, but she wasn’t normal. She was no longer a real woman.

  Another sob racked her body and she turned her face into her pillow as a deep anguish tore through her.

  She’d chosen life, but in doing so she’d demolished any chance she might have had for love. She’d effectively killed her heart and spirit—she’d destroyed her very soul. She was a survivor that nobody would want.

  She was a healthy woman, but she was also a dead woman walking and nothing and nobody could change that.

  Chapter 6

  The morning of the craft fair dawned bright with sunshine and warm temperatures that would assure a nice crowd over the weekend.

  Tony left the ranch at eight thirty on Friday morning to head for the old rodeo grounds on the west side of town, where the fair was to take place.

  For the past two days he’d been unable to stop thinking about Mary and their lovemaking. It had been hot. It had been frantic and it had ended far too quickly.

  Last night when he’d gone to her house after work she’d been a bit distant and closed off. Thankfully, Halena had sat in the living room with them and had filled in any silence that might have occurred with her lively chatter.

  A rental truck was in the driveway and Halena had explained that it had taken several hours during the day for the two of them to get everything loaded and ready to go. Tony tried to tell himself that Mary was probably just tired.

  Still, he hated the possibility that their physical intimacy had ruined the emotional connection they’d been sharing. He’d enjoyed relaxing with her, sharing bits and pieces of his life and himself, and she had done the same.

  Was he such a bad lover that he’d turned her off? He’d never had any complaints in that area before, but he’d also never left a woman unsatisfied before.

  There just hadn’t been time. She’d taken control of the situation and had brought him to near madness before he could rationally think. Hell, they hadn’t even completely undressed. They’d acted like two horny teenagers groping each other in the backseat of a car.

  Maybe it’s because you just aren’t good enough, a little voice whispered inside his head. You’ll never be worth anything. We’re the only people who would have you. Nobody else wanted you.

  He squeezed his hands more tightly around the steering wheel and shoved the deep voice from his childhood away. Still, a bad taste lingered in his mouth.

  He hoped his time with Mary at the craft fair would somehow take them back to the easy, comfortable relationship they’d shared before she’d taken him into her bedroom. And he couldn’t help but hope that they would share that kind of physical intimacy again.

  The old rodeo grounds had been abandoned for as long as Tony could remember. The small town of Bitterroot wasn’t on the circuit anymore.

  However, the wide-open space was used when carnivals came to the area, or when the town council decided to put on a celebration of one kind or another. They even used it for the occasional concert when the powers that be managed to book a country-western star.

  There was plenty of parking and lots of cars and trailers already there.

&nbs
p; He expected the morning not to be too busy, but as the evening came there would be plenty of people. Tomorrow would be the big day. On a Saturday, when many folks didn’t have to work, most of the townspeople would probably turn out for the fun.

  In the distance multicolored tents rippled in the light breeze, along with more stable wooden structures. The scents of funnel cake, popcorn and other enticing food scents rode the air despite the morning hour.

  The grounds were surrounded by an old wooden fence that had been built to keep people and kids from sneaking into an event they hadn’t paid for, but the fence had never been high enough to keep determined cheaters from getting in.

  Although Tony had never been to the annual craft fair before, he did know that it drew in people from all areas of Oklahoma and beyond to the small town of Bitterroot, not only as vendors but also as customers.

  For the next three days the motel would be filled, the café would be busy and the local businesses would be crowded, making everyone happy.

  He now got out of his truck and headed toward the entrance gate. He looked forward to spending an entire day and evening with Mary and Joey.

  He was pleased to see two of Dillon’s men in uniform standing at the gate. Apparently, they were there to keep any rowdiness that might occur in check. “Good morning, Officer Ramirez, Officer Taylor,” he greeted them.

  “Tony, nice to see you,” Ben Taylor returned. “Have you come out to buy something specific?”

  “Or are you here to sample all the crazy food?” Juan Ramirez added with a pleasant grin. “Did you know they have deep-fried Twinkies?”

  Tony laughed. “No, I didn’t know that. Actually, I’m here to help out Mary Redwing and her grandmother,” Tony replied.

  “Halena pinched Juan’s butt earlier,” Ben said with a laugh.

  A bit of red jumped into Juan’s cheeks. “She said I had the sexiest butt she’d seen in years. I’m not planning on getting too close to their tent today.”

  Tony laughed and shook his head. Leave it to Halena to intimidate the police. He looked beyond the two officers. “Mary told me they have a light blue tent, but I see several in the distance.”

  Ben walked over and grabbed a piece of paper from a display board. “This shows the location of each business that’s here for the weekend.”

  “Mary’s tent is over there on the left,” Juan said.

  Ben looked down at the directions. “Aisle two, booth space six,” he said and then handed Tony the paper.

  “Thanks,” Tony replied. He said goodbye and then headed to the left. His heart stepped up its rhythm in anticipation of the day.

  He’d been shocked when Mary had shared with him that she couldn’t have children. He hated that she’d had to deal with cancer, but that certainly didn’t change the way he felt about her.

  And what did he really feel about her? He knew he liked her a lot and he also knew he was physically drawn to her. But he was surprised that when he left her at night he couldn’t wait for the next evening to come when he’d see her again. He was surprised that she filled so many of his thoughts throughout the day.

  And she didn’t want that kind of a relationship with him...or did she? For the past couple of days she seemed to be sending him mixed signals.

  His heart jumped as he caught sight of her. She stood in front of the large blue tent. Clad in a pair of tight jeans and a sky blue blouse, her hair hung in twin braids and a smile curved her lips as she saw his approach.

  “Good morning,” he said when he reached the tent.

  “Same to you,” she replied. “Welcome to our home away from home for the next three days.” She gestured for him to step into the tent.

  Halena sat in a chair at the back of the large space with Joey asleep in his bouncy chair at her feet and an electronic tablet in her lap. “Greetings, handsome warrior,” she said with a smile.

  “You look like a ray of sunshine,” he replied. She wore a dazzling yellow skirt and matching blouse and both had intricate decorative beading.

  “I’m a walking advertisement,” she replied.

  Tony looked around the space. Floor-to-ceiling plastic shelves held all shapes of baskets and pottery items, while dress racks held a variety of clothing. Fancy dream catchers hung from the ceiling along with wind chimes.

  “Is all of this traditional?” he asked.

  “Not all of it,” Mary replied. “Some of it is just what people want from Native Americans. For instance, the dream catchers originally came from the Ojibwa people, not the Choctaw, but people love them and so Grandmother and I make them. They are one of our best sellers.”

  “They’re gorgeous.” He walked over to the pottery, awed by the beauty of each piece. One in particular captured his interest. It was a pale sand color and shaped like a pitcher. A silhouette of a Native American took center stage on the piece and he was framed by what appeared to be dark tear drops.

  “There’s a story to this?” he asked and pointed to the pitcher.

  “The Trail of Tears,” Mary said.

  Tony frowned.

  “Good heavens, don’t tell me you don’t know about the Trail of Tears,” Halena exclaimed. “That historical event held our people’s sorrow and showed our indomitable strength.” She frowned at him. “What kind of a Choctaw are you that you don’t know this?”

  His stomach clenched as memories of his childhood suddenly assaulted him.

  Indians don’t sleep in the bed, they sleep on the floor. The deep male voice held nothing but contempt.

  Tie him to the tree, he’s nothing but a dirty injun. The sound of childish laughter filled his head as he remembered the bite of the tree bark at his back and the tight rope that held him in place.

  “I was taught to hate that part of me.” The words fell out of his mouth without volition.

  Halena studied him for a long moment. “Then I must teach you to embrace the blood of our people that runs in your veins,” she replied firmly.

  At that moment Joey woke up and two buyers appeared in the tent. Relief fluttered through Tony at the interruption. As Halena stood to help Mary, Tony picked up Joey and held him close to his chest.

  Joey deserved better than him as a father. How on earth could he teach Joey to be happy and proud when Tony had such self-loathing inside him?

  * * *

  The morning passed quickly with customers drifting in and out of the tent. While Mary greeted each person with a friendly smile, her thoughts were on the man who shared the tent space with them.

  I was taught to hate that part of me. His words haunted her and created an unexpected pain inside her. They made her wonder more than ever what forces had driven him to be a runaway out on the streets. Who had taught him that hatred?

  At noon he went to one of the food vendors and got them all big sandwiches and chips. In one of the lulls the man from the next tent stepped in to visit.

  He was from Texas and sold cookbooks, cooking kits geared toward cowboys and old west fare. Tony bought one he said he was going to give to Cord Cully, aka Cookie, who fed all the cowboys at the Holiday ranch.

  As the afternoon slipped away, business really began to pick up. Laughter rang in the air and people who stopped in the tent cooed and aahed over Joey and admired and bought a variety of items.

  Joey was a little ham, grinning and laughing at each new face that appeared. She had tried to stay as detached from him as much as possible, but she had fallen completely and totally in love with the happy boy.

  Her heart would break just a little bit when this arrangement with Tony ended, but she couldn’t be his easy solution forever.

  Eventually, if Amy never showed up again, Tony would have to figure out how to be a single parent on his own. In fact, Mary intended to talk to him in the next couple of days about ending her babysittin
g.

  It had been almost two weeks since Amy had deposited the baby on Tony’s doorstep and then disappeared, and with each day that passed Mary’s belief that her friend would return soon waned. Sometimes Amy’s drug benders went on for months before she’d once again make the attempt to get straight.

  “Are you getting hungry?” Tony walked over to stand next to her.

  Why did his very nearness race her heart? Throughout the day she’d been nearly overwhelmed by his presence. After making love with him, she’d been determined to distance herself from him.

  However, it was so difficult to remain unmoved when he smiled at her, when his gaze was so soft the way it lingered on her. He made it difficult on her just by being.

  “Mary?”

  She startled as she realized she hadn’t answered his question. “Yes, I’m getting hungry. Since you got lunch for us this afternoon, why don’t I go get us some hot dogs for dinner.”

  “And funnel cake,” Halena added.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to get it?” he asked.

  “No, in fact I’ll take Joey with me. I could use a little fresh air and he can take the walk with me.” She grabbed the baby backpack she’d bought when she and Halena had gone to the general store the day before.

  She put it on and Tony grabbed Joey from his bouncy chair. “You want to take a little walk, Joey?” she asked.

  He kicked his legs and grinned as if he understood every single word she’d said. Tony put him in the backpack and Mary left the tent.

  She breathed in the evening air, which didn’t smell of Tony’s scent. Joey’s light weight wasn’t a burden and she hoped the little boy was looking at the bright colors of the tents and their surroundings. He wiggled around, obviously excited by whatever he saw.

  The hot dog vendor was several aisles away and during the walk she was greeted by several familiar faces. Many of the vendors came back year after year, and although Mary didn’t always remember all of their names, she knew them on sight.

  She wove her way through the throng of people and finally reached the hot dog stand, where she stood in the line of hungry people looking for a quick dinner.

 

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