Operation Cowboy Daddy

by Carla Cassidy

  He smiled at her. “Have we gotten so close that you can now read my mind?” How he wished he could read hers. She was still more than a bit of a mystery to him.

  She returned his smile. “I can’t read your mind, but I can read some of your expressions.” Her smile faded. “So, what were you two talking about?”

  “Amy.” He hesitated a moment, unsure if he should share with her what he’d been worried about. She can handle it, he thought. She’d probably been worried about the same things he had been. “Dillon is going to check with all the hospitals to see if she’s a patient in one of them. He’s also going to check with the morgue in Oklahoma City.”

  Mary’s eyes darkened in sorrow and she slowly nodded. “I always believed Amy’s life here on earth would be short. Still, I hope she’s alive somewhere. Are you still in love with her?”

  Tony took a step backward in surprise. “Why would you ask that?”

  She averted her gaze from his and stared at some point over his shoulder. “It would be good for Joey if you and Amy would somehow find your way back to each other and build a life together.”

  “Mary, that’s never going to happen. I’ll admit I was infatuated with her for a while, but I was never in love with her.” He might have believed he still had a little love in his heart for Amy if he hadn’t gotten so close to Mary.

  The feelings he had for the woman standing next to him were far deeper, far more profound than anything he had ever felt for Amy. He was convinced it wasn’t love, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. It was something he’d never experienced before with any woman.

  As several more people entered the tent, Mary drifted away to attend to them. The rest of the afternoon flew by and at dinnertime Clay got them all barbecue sandwiches and chips from one of the food vendors.

  Tony’s nerves had been in knots all day and it was only as the end of the night drew near that he began to relax a bit. Tomorrow the craft fair would be open only until noon.

  He’d be glad when they were all spending the days and nights in the safety of Mary’s house and not out in a crowd, where it was difficult to see danger approaching.

  His stomach clenched once again. He didn’t want to think about the future, about what he’d do when the two-week vacation he’d taken from work was over and he still had no answers as to Amy’s whereabouts.

  Don’t look to the future and never look back, just live in the moment. That had always been his mantra, but it was difficult to live that way now with a little boy and two women depending on him to keep them safe and a madman who wanted to destroy what little piece of happiness Tony had managed to find.

  * * *

  “That’s the last of it,” Mary said Sunday afternoon as she took the last piece of pottery out of the rental truck and handed it to Halena to carry into the garage, where shelving awaited the last of what hadn’t sold over the weekend.

  “Thank goodness we almost sold out of everything,” Halena said. “This old woman is too tired to carry in another thing. Let’s get inside, where I can put on some comfy clothes and get my feet up.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Mary replied. She smiled at Tony, who held Joey in his arms. “Now it’s back to normal life.”

  “We don’t have normal in our life,” Halena exclaimed.

  Mary took Joey from Tony’s arms as they approached the front door. As usual, Tony ushered them just inside the door and then he checked the rest of the house before allowing them to go any farther.

  “It’s clear,” he said when he returned to the front door. He holstered his gun and Mary released a small sigh of relief. It was hard for her to believe that her life now included a man with a gun who searched the house for a bad guy each time they entered the premises.

  Still, as Joey snuggled closer to her, she knew it was a small inconvenience to keep him safe. “I love working the craft fairs, but it’s always a relief when it’s over,” she said.

  She placed Joey in his bouncy seat and then gazed at Tony. “Are you hungry? Breakfast seems like it was a long time ago.”

  “I could eat,” he replied.

  “I’ve got some ham and cheese for sandwiches.” She scurried into the kitchen and realized she was a bit nervous with the realization that Tony was going to be in the house day and night.

  The last two nights hadn’t been so difficult and with the craft fair there had been so much activity and other people around. But now it was just the four of them and she certainly wasn’t accustomed to having a handsome man who she’d made quick, wild love with underfoot for twenty-four hours a day.

  He joined her in the kitchen and as he helped her get the cold cuts out of the refrigerator their shoulders bumped. A current of electricity shot through her at the simple casual contact.

  Jeez, what was wrong with her? She admitted that she was attracted to Tony, but she also recognized that he was forbidden fruit.

  The last thing she wanted was to part from Tony with the memory of revulsion in his eyes. Right now she held tight to the hunger, the fire that had sparked from his eyes when they’d made love. That was what she wanted to remember forever.

  As she sliced a tomato, Tony washed off lettuce leaves, and by the time they had everything on the table Halena reappeared. She’d changed from her beautiful Native American dress to a pair of zebra-print sleep pants and a neon-green T-shirt with a howling coyote on the front.

  Joey slept as the three of them sat at the table and ate their sandwiches. Their conversation revolved around the weekend activities and all the people they had seen.

  “Tony, when we finish eating, would you help me hang my naked man in my room?” Halena asked.

  The naked man on horseback carved into a piece of wood had been a big hit with Halena. Mary was only grateful Halena hadn’t insisted they hang the darned thing in the living room.

  “No problem,” Tony replied easily.

  Everything was so easy with him. Conversation flowed without strain. He’d handled everything that had happened with aplomb. He made her feel safe without effort and her grandmother had embraced him into their life as if he belonged with them.

  And he didn’t belong.

  She had to remember that when she awakened in the morning and smelled the scent of shaving cream and his familiar cologne. She needed to remind herself that he didn’t belong here when he filled the room with his laughter, when his dark eyes gazed at her with such an inviting heat. He made her feel beautiful and that made him oh, so dangerous.

  She was relieved when after the meal he followed Halena down the hallway to her bedroom. They’d been back at the house for only about an hour and already his presence had her off center.

  After cleaning up the kitchen, she went into the living room, where Joey had awakened and greeted her with a wide grin. “Hey, little man,” she said and bent down to pick him up.

  With one hand she held him and with the other hand she dropped the blanket on the floor so he could roll around and play. With the baby situated she sank down on the sofa.

  There was no question that she was tired. Maybe that was why her mind was going so many crazy places. She hadn’t slept well for the past two nights with the memory of that moment with Ash Moreland and his gun. That fact, combined with the adrenaline of working the fair and being around Tony, had left her exhausted.

  Tony’s deep laughter rang out from Halena’s bedroom, and the pleasant sound twisted a knife into her heart. She reminded herself that even if she was a whole woman, that didn’t mean Tony would even want to belong here forever.

  He’d told her he didn’t want to marry, but he’d also made it clear that he wanted her. Even if she took a chance with him, there was no reason to believe he’d stick around.

  She smiled at Joey, who cooed and gurgled as he played with his fingers. Tony had also said he didn’t want to be a
father, and yet over the past two weeks he’d definitely grown into the position.

  He might profess that he didn’t love Joey, but his love for the child was in his every touch, in the way he gazed at the boy. He held Joey with such tenderness, and when he spoke to him, his voice held a wealth of love.

  Whether he knew it or not, Tony had already embraced the role of father. And she couldn’t help believing that someday with the right woman, he might realize he desired to be a husband, too. He might possibly want to have more children and build himself a real family.

  Tony and Halena returned to the living room. “He hung it on the wall across from my bed, where I can look at the naked warrior every morning and every night,” Halena said with satisfaction as she sat in the chair across from the sofa.

  Mary’s breath hitched in her chest as Tony sat next to her. “Hey, little buddy.” He leaned forward and grinned at Joey, who laughed and waved his fists.

  “I’ve never seen such a good baby,” Halena said.

  Tony leaned back. “Mary wasn’t a good baby?”

  “She was terrible,” Halena replied with an affectionate look at Mary. “She came into this world wailing like a banshee and she continued to wail for about the next three months. Her mother was beside herself, certain that she was doing something wrong, but no matter how often Mary was fed and changed and rocked, she cried. And then one day she just stopped and I don’t think she’s cried since then.”

  Oh, Mary had definitely cried since then. She’d cried when she’d had her hysterectomy. She’d sobbed when she’d had her double mastectomy. She’d wept bitter tears when Rick had walked away from her. And she’d cried knowing that she and Tony would never share any more intimacy.

  But she always cried alone, in her room...in the dark where nobody could see or hear her. She didn’t want anyone to know the depth of her self-loathing—she needed to appear strong for those around her. Dammit, she was strong, she told herself.

  Tony looked at her in amusement. “So, basically your grandmother is saying that you were a real crybaby.”

  Mary laughed. “Maybe it was because the leaves on the trees whispered in my ear that the day would come when my grandmother would move in with me.”

  “Ha, you’re not that funny,” Halena retorted, making both Tony and Mary laugh again.

  The afternoon passed pleasantly with them talking about all the people they had seen at the fair, how successful the event had been for Mary’s business and how nice Clay and Sawyer had been to show up and help out. They had all taken turns playing and interacting with Joey in between his feeding and naps.

  They steered clear of any mention of kidnapping and Ash Moreland, which was fine with Mary. She didn’t want to think about the horrible man who wanted possession of sweet Joey.

  Dinner was eaten and at eight thirty Mary put Joey down for the night and Halena disappeared into her bedroom. Despite Mary’s tiredness, she was too wound up to sleep so early.

  “Do you want me to go into my bedroom so you can make out your bed?” she asked Tony.

  “Nah, I’m not ready for sleep yet. Why don’t we just sit and relax for a while longer.” He took his gun out of the holster on his belt and placed it on the coffee table next to where he sat on the sofa.

  She sat next to him and relaxed into the corner of the cushions. “You look tired,” he observed.

  “I am tired,” she admitted. “It was a long weekend.”

  “Now that the fair is over, what do your normal days look like?” he asked.

  “We get to work for the spring fair. I start weaving baskets and making pottery and Grandmother begins to sew. We have a daily routine that’s fairly laid-back.”

  “I don’t want you to change anything with me here. The last thing I want to be is a distraction.”

  He couldn’t help that he was a distraction. His very presence changed the weight of the air, his energy exuded from him, and no matter where she was in the house, she felt him.

  “We’ll get through this,” she replied. I was taught to hate that part of me. The words he’d said during the fair suddenly popped into her mind and with it came a hundred different questions.

  “Of course we will,” he replied. “We have to in order to save Joey.” His dark eyes filled with a steely determination. “No matter what happens, Joey has to have a wonderful childhood and I know for certain he’ll never have that with Ash Moreland.”

  She knew she shouldn’t ask, she knew she shouldn’t care, but that didn’t stop her. “You want Joey to have the childhood that you didn’t have.” She leaned toward him. “Tell me, Tony. Tell me what happened to you. Tell me what drove you to the streets when you were so young.”

  For a long moment she thought she’d overstepped her place as myriad emotions swept over his face. Pain, sorrow and a soft vulnerability were quickly usurped by an expression of anger and she was suddenly sorry she’d asked. She was afraid to hear his story.

  She was afraid it might break her heart.

  Chapter 9

  Tony’s chest tightened as dark and painful memories filled his head. He never talked about his past with anyone. He stared at Mary and for the first time in his life he wanted to give that inner pain a voice.

  “I was raised by Betty and Hank Ryan. They lived on a small ranch just outside of Oklahoma City and had three children of their own. I was told by them that my mother, a full-blooded Choctaw, gave me to them when I was nine months old.”

  “Why did she give you away?”

  “They told me that my father was a drunk who’d left her and she didn’t want me anymore. I don’t know why the Ryans took me in. They didn’t officially foster me, so they weren’t getting any money, and they never adopted me. I think my mother must have given them some money or something up front. I never could figure out why they took me in.”

  He paused, dark emotions once again pressing against his chest. He had never wanted to share this with anyone, but for some reason Mary felt safe. Her soft gaze encouraged him to let it all out. He knew instinctively she wouldn’t judge him in any way.

  “I was the dirty Indian in their home,” he continued. “I slept on the floor and ate their scraps. The only time I was allowed to clean up and dress in good clothes was when we all went to town for something or on the few days off and on when I was allowed to attend school. They worked me like a mule around the ranch, and when I wasn’t working, their kids took great pleasure in tying me to trees or throwing me in the pigpen.”

  Now that the words had begun he couldn’t stop them. “I was told daily that I had no place in the world, that the Choctaw nation didn’t want me and that all white people would shun me.” He paused to take a deep breath.

  “Oh, Tony.” Mary scooted closer to him and took his hand in hers. He welcomed the warmth of her hand as an icy chill had gripped his heart the moment he’d gone backward in time.

  He couldn’t begin to describe a young boy’s confusion about the way he was treated. He couldn’t find the words to explain how hungry he had been to belong.

  “I tried so hard,” he finally said. “I worked hard in an effort to make Hank happy. I tried to do whatever he wanted me to do. I picked flowers and made little things to give to Betty in hopes that she would give me a hug or tell me she loved me.”

  A bitter laugh escaped him and Mary squeezed his hand tighter. He stared at the wall over her shoulder. “There were no hugs for the Indian boy, no kind words at the end of a long workday. There was nothing but ridicule and scorn.” Lost...he was lost in the miasma of pain and despair.

  He smelled the disgusting odor of the pigs in the air, felt the sharp bite of a belt across his back and tasted the mishmash of slop that he was fed each day. His bedroom had been a thin mattress on the floor on the back porch. He’d frozen in the winter months and sweltered in the summer.r />
  He’d been a thing, not a person. He’d been a possession to be used and abused. He’d grown to hate them, but he hated himself more. If he hadn’t been a half-breed, maybe they might have loved him. If he didn’t have Native American blood running in his veins, maybe he would have really been part of the family.

  “And so eventually you ran away.” Mary’s soft voice pulled him out of the darkness.

  He gazed at her once again. “I was fourteen years old, almost fifteen, and on that particular night Hank had beat me with a belt because I’d asked for a second piece of bread at dinner. I was so angry, and I knew that night that if I stayed I’d probably wind up killing Hank or their oldest son, who was a constant torment to me.”

  He looked deep into her eyes but saw no judgment, no hint of revulsion in the soft depths. Her hand remained clasped warmly around his...an anchor to keep him from getting completely lost in his wretched past.

  “I had no plan and I took nothing with me except the clothes on my back. I left the Ryan ranch at midnight and headed for the streets of Oklahoma City.”

  “You must have been so frightened.”

  “I was,” he admitted. “But I was more afraid to stay.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Thankfully, it was summertime and I didn’t have to worry about harsh winter weather. I found a place under an overpass to stay, and when I got hungry, I stole whatever I could from nearby stores. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I was in survival mode and nothing else mattered.”

  “Did you have a plan for your future?” She searched his face as if wanting to know all of his secrets.

  A small laugh escaped him. “When you’re out on the streets, you don’t think about your future. I didn’t believe I had a future. All I thought about was when I’d be able to eat again and if I could get through the day without getting beat up.”

  “Who was beating you up on the streets?”

  “There was a gang of skinheads who beat up anyone who wasn’t white. I usually managed to get away from them, but occasionally they caught me and beat the snot out of me.”