Operation Cowboy Daddy

by Carla Cassidy

  Mary had always feared for Amy’s life, but she’d assumed she would self-destruct. She’d never dreamed she’d be murdered, bringing forth Mary’s worst fears.

  Joey no longer had a mother, and if Tony really was the father, then he would not have a partner to help in raising the little boy.

  They drove back to the ranch in silence, but in Mary’s head she heard the sounds of Joey’s cooing and gurgling. The sound of his happiness ringing in her brain only made everything more tragic.

  Protect him from evil. Those had been Amy’s last words to Tony, and Mary knew without a doubt that Tony would do everything in his power to honor them. Tony would take care of Joey, but who would take care of Tony?

  When they reached the ranch house, Cassie was on the back porch, her face somber. “Dillon told me about Amy,” she said to Tony. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks, Cassie,” he replied, equally as somber. “Why don’t you women head on inside and I’ll unload everything.”

  Mary and Halena followed Cassie back into the house and into the great room, where Joey was asleep on a blanket on the floor. “Sit and relax for a few minutes,” Cassie said. She sat in one of the chairs.

  Mary eased down next to Halena on the sofa. “I like your hat,” Cassie said to Halena.

  The old woman reached up and straightened it on her head. “I like hats, especially on bad days. A good hat can make you feel better. But I also like hats on good days, too.”

  Tony came in carrying two suitcases. “I’ll just take these upstairs to the bedrooms and go back out to get the rest of the things.”

  “I’m sad for Amy, but I’m not surprised that she had a bad end,” Halena said softly as she gazed at Joey. “May she rest in peace. At least she won’t be tormented any longer.”

  She stood. “And now I’m going to go ahead and unpack.” She headed for the stairs.

  “I’m so sorry about Amy,” Cassie said once Halena had disappeared from sight. “What a horrible thing.”

  Mary nodded. “She had a good heart, but she was a troubled woman who made bad choices. Still, she didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

  “Nobody deserves that,” Cassie replied. “I’ll bet your grandmother is a fascinating person.”

  Mary smiled and realized Cassie had changed the subject on purpose. “She’s definitely unique.”

  “She has a beautiful face. I’d love to paint her sometime.”

  “You paint?”

  It was Cassie’s turn to smile. “Yes, I paint when I have spare time. I dreamed of being an artist on the streets of New York City, selling my paintings out of the most prestigious art galleries.” She released a deep sigh. “It’s strange where fate takes you.”

  Mary gazed down at the sleeping baby. “Yes, it’s definitely strange.” She looked back at Cassie. “But it wasn’t fate that brought us here. It was the evil doings of a tin man.”

  “A tin man?”

  Mary nodded. “A man without a heart...a man without a soul.” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders in an effort to warm the chill that filled her as she thought of Ash Moreland...the man she was certain had murdered Amy.

  Cassie leaned forward and her blue eyes shone with conviction. “Mary, that tin man can’t hurt you here. We’re all going to make sure of that.”

  Gazing into Cassie’s earnest eyes, Mary almost believed it, but not quite. She couldn’t shake the notion that they weren’t out of the woods yet. Until Ash was in jail the danger was still very real.

  A half an hour later Mary was in the bedroom unpacking her clothes. Her grandmother had been right the morning she’d told Mary about her dream walk to Kansas with a tornado and a tin man.

  She’d seen great change and danger from a man—too bad she hadn’t seen a fire, a murder and complete upheaval in their world. Too bad she hadn’t seen how this would all end.

  Tony had left with a couple of men to return to the house and see about installing a new back door. He’d also told her before he left that he’d have the porch rebuilt and the interior walls painted.

  At the moment she didn’t care about the house. All she cared about was the little boy who was reaching up to bat at the old, slightly faded mobile Cassie had hung over his crib.

  She hung her T-shirts and the other blouses she’d packed in the closet and then placed her jeans and underpants in the dresser drawers, then sat on the edge of the bed and stared unseeingly toward the window.

  Amy was gone forever and Tony wasn’t the marrying type. Would he change his tune so that Joey would have a mother figure in his life? Every child needed a soft place to fall.

  She hoped and prayed that before Joey got too old Tony would find a good woman and fall in love. She wanted Joey to have a mother who would kiss his boo-boos and tears away, a mom who would bake cookies and throw birthday parties and tuck him into bed each night with a story and a lullaby. She wished that woman could be her, but she knew it wasn’t.

  Damn cancer.

  Damn it to hell and back.

  Hot tears burned at her eyes, tears she swallowed hard against. It had robbed her of everything meaningful in her life. It had taken her mother. It had taken her only aunt.

  It had stolen Mary’s dreams of a family of her own. It had forced her to make a decision that would assure she would never know a man’s love.

  Damn cancer.

  She jumped up from the bed. It was ridiculous for her to sit here and feel sorry for herself. She was finished with pity parties.

  She walked over to the crib. Joey had fallen asleep. Motherless child, now that was a real tragedy, she thought.

  She left the room and headed downstairs, needing something or somebody to pull her out of her own head. Tony would see to it that Joey thrived and she reminded herself that she was so much more than what cancer had done to her.

  Cassie was in the kitchen and greeted her with a pleasant smile. “Sit and talk to me while I wrestle with this chicken for dinner,” she said.

  “Need some help?” Mary asked. “The last thing we want is to make more work for you, Cassie.”

  “Please, just relax. I’ve got this,” Cassie assured her. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No, I’m good.” Mary sat at the table and watched as Cassie washed the whole chicken in the sink and then shoved it into a bag.

  “I love bag cooking,” she said. “You throw in a hunk of protein and some vegetables and then put it in the oven and that’s it.”

  “Do you like to cook?” Mary asked.

  Cassie turned up her pert nose. “Not really. I might like it if I knew more about it. When I was living in New York, I almost never turned on my oven or stove. There was a deli right down the street where I bought all my meals. It wasn’t until I moved here that I realized if I didn’t cook, then I didn’t eat...and I do love to eat.”

  “While we’re here, if you just give the word, I’m sure Grandmother would be pleased to teach you some things about cooking. She loves to cook.”

  “Really? I’ll bet she’s an awesome cook.” Cassie began to shove peeled potatoes and carrots into the bag with the chicken. She tied the bag, then opened the oven and put the baking pan inside.

  “Now, how about a cup of hot tea?” she said. “I always enjoy a nice cup of tea around this time of the day.”

  “That sounds good,” Mary agreed.

  Maybe a cup of tea would erase all the concerns that floated around in her head. She wondered what Tony was doing at the house, she worried about what Ash would do next and she was aware of the ticking clock that would end her involvement with both Tony and Joey when Tony’s vacation time was over.

  Cassie set a cup of tea in front of her and then got the sugar bowl, some slices of lemon and a small pitcher of milk. She then poured a cup for herself
and joined Mary at the table.

  “Tell me about your business. Tony told me you make all kinds of beautiful things.”

  Mary looked at the attractive blonde with gratitude. She knew what she was doing—she was trying to get Mary’s mind off the issues that faced them all. It worked. Cassie was not only a good listener, but also asked all kinds of questions and appeared genuinely interested in how Mary made a living.

  “I can’t wait to get on my laptop and check out your site,” she said. “You’re obviously quite an artist yourself.”

  “Speaking of being an artist, tell me more about your paintings,” Mary said.

  “I mostly like working with oils, although occasionally I’ll dabble a bit with watercolors. I always painted cityscapes until I moved here. Now I’m starting to dabble in country paintings.” Cassie stopped talking as Halena came into the kitchen.

  Her purple hat was gone, as was the dress that Cassie had found for her to wear. Instead Halena wore leopard-print baggy trousers with a pink camo T-shirt.

  “Grandmother, Cassie doesn’t know much about cooking. Maybe while we’re here you could share some of your special recipes with her and show her how to do them,” Mary said.

  Halena eyed Cassie as if she was a peculiar bug she’d never seen before. “How did you get to be your age and not know much about cooking?”

  “Before I came to Bitterroot I ate out a lot,” Cassie replied. She leaned back in her chair and smiled at Halena. “You know, I think I have a few hats upstairs from New York City that I could give you in exchange for some cooking lessons.”

  Halena narrowed her gaze and then nodded. “Bribery... I like it. You’ve got a deal.”

  “We can start tomorrow night, since dinner for this evening is already in the oven,” Cassie said.

  For the next hour the women chatted about everything from the working of the ranch to people in town they all knew. The conversation halted long enough for Mary to race up the stairs to check on Joey, who was awake and hollering for attention. She changed his diaper and then carried him down the stairs and returned to the kitchen, where she deposited him at her feet in his bouncy chair.

  “You are such a sweetheart,” Cassie said to Joey, who babbled and grinned at her in return. “I think you’re the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.”

  “Why don’t you have a man and a baby of your own?” Halena asked.

  “Grandmother...” Mary shot her a warning look.

  “What?” Halena looked at her innocently. “I can’t help my curiosity. It’s pretty much all you have left when you get to be my age.”

  “It’s okay,” Cassie replied with a glint of good humor in her eyes. “I don’t have a man or a baby because I’m still trying to find myself.”

  Halena raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like some New Age crap to me. You’re a pretty woman and I’d think all the cowboys in the area would be after you. Are you a lesbian?”

  “Grandmother!” Mary was outraged and worried. Dear God, all they needed was for her outspoken grandmother to get them kicked off the ranch.

  Cassie laughed uproariously. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy having the two of you here. And no, I’m not a lesbian.” She grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped her eyes as Mary breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’m not even dating at the moment,” Cassie continued. “Right now I don’t know if my forever home is going to be this place or back in New York City, so I’ve put my love life on hold for now.”

  “Why would you want to go back to New York City?” Halena asked.

  Cassie shrugged her shoulders. “To fulfill the dreams I have for myself.”

  “You have a beautiful home and a successful ranch that probably makes you more money than you know what to do with. You have all those cowboys with their broad shoulders and sexy butts working for you. I’d say you should just change your dreams,” Halena said.

  Cassie smiled and before she could reply Joey began to fuss. Mary got up to fix him a bottle. While she fed him, the conversation changed to what kinds of meals Halena intended to teach Cassie how to cook.

  “You definitely need to know how to make an enchilada pie and chili. Those are real man-pleasers and they’ll come in handy when you find yourself and get a man in your life,” Halena said.

  “That sounds good,” Cassie replied. “And maybe you can teach me how to cook a good roast. It seems like mine is always tough.”

  The food chatter continued until around four o’clock, when Tony came in the back door and greeted them all with a tired smile. He sat at the table in the chair across from Mary.

  “We managed to load up and take away what was left of your porch and we got a new back door installed,” he said. “I left a message for Frankie Brale to see if he can take care of the painting on the inside and the rebuilding of the porch.”

  Frankie Brale was a handsome bald man who ran a successful home repair and renovation business. He had a reputation for being a hard worker and fair in pricing.

  “Tony, I really don’t expect for you to take care of all this. You let me know what it’s going to cost and I’ll write a check,” Mary replied.

  Tony looked down at Joey, who was napping in the bouncy chair on the floor, and then he gazed back at Mary. “My son...and my problems, and the last thing I want is for you to come to any harm, financially or any other way. I’ve got this, Mary, and I’ve got it with pleasure.”

  His gaze was soft and held a touch of yearning. Oh, those beautiful eyes could get her in a whole lot of trouble if she didn’t stay strong.

  He got up from the table. “And now I’m going to head back to my bunk for a nice hot shower.” He looked at Cassie. “Is it okay if I come back after dinner?”

  “The more the merrier,” Cassie replied.

  With a nod of goodbye, Tony went back out the door. Cassie smiled at Mary. “Do you realize that man is head over heels in love with you?”

  Mary’s heart stuttered in her chest. “No, that’s crazy. Tony doesn’t love me and he’s not in love with me. He just believes he needs me right now...because of Joey. He appreciates how I’ve helped him out, that’s all.”

  Tony wanted her. There was no question that he’d like to have her in bed again, but love had nothing to do with it. He couldn’t love her. She just wouldn’t allow it.

  Halena smiled at Cassie. “My granddaughter is a very foolish woman. Now, about those hats you mentioned earlier...”

  * * *

  Tony watched as several of Frankie’s men unloaded lumber from the back of a truck. In the past three days the interior of the house had been repainted and now it was time for Frankie and his men to put back the porch where Mary had spent an afternoon teaching him about her basket weaving.

  Tony was making the porch bigger and better than it had been. He hadn’t told Mary yet, he wanted it to be a surprise. But besides increasing the size of the porch he was putting in glass and screens so that if she wanted she could work in the space throughout the whole year.

  It was the very least he could do for the woman who had put her own life on hold to help him. It was the very least he could do for the woman who had captured his reluctant heart.

  He leaned with his back against his truck’s driver door, raised his face to the warm afternoon sun and then frowned as he thought about the past three days.

  Mary and Halena seemed to have settled in nicely with Cassie. The three of them got along well and Cassie appeared to be enjoying the company of the two females and Joey.

  Each evening one of the men went on guard duty, patrolling around the house and looking for trouble through the night. During the days Tony was inside the house playing with Joey or feeding him or putting him down for sleep in the crib.

  What he hadn’t been doing was spending any quality time alone with Mary. He missed the hours whe
n Halena would retire for the night and he and Mary sat on her sofa and just talked.

  Hell, who was he kidding? He not only missed those conversations, but he also missed tasting her lips and feeling her body warm against his own.

  A fire in the dark and a tragic murder in a motel room—nothing that had occurred had lessened his desire for Mary. And nothing that had happened over the last couple of days had cleared his confusion about what exactly she wanted from him.

  She’d told him she didn’t want a relationship with him and yet far too often he felt her gaze lingering on him. There was a heat in her eyes when she looked at him, an occasional wistful yearning there that made him believe she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

  He’d given her the opportunity to walk away from this whole mess more than once, but she hadn’t walked. What had kept her with him? He didn’t believe it was just her love and concern for Joey.

  He mentally cursed himself for his own desires. With the potential danger that was a constant undercurrent in the air, was it any wonder she wasn’t in the mood for romance?

  Once again old feelings of inadequacy filled him. Was he just not good enough for her? Was he mistaken in thinking that she wasn’t just staying for Joey, but for him as well? He just didn’t know what to believe. All he knew was that he was grateful she was still in his life.

  He’d called Dillon earlier that morning to get updates on Ash and on Amy’s murder investigation. It was an understatement to say that he was disappointed with Dillon’s report.

  Ash was still on the loose, apparently hiding out someplace where the authorities hadn’t been able to find him. The knife used to kill Amy had been found in the motel room but had yielded no fingerprints.

  In fact, the entire room had been wiped down and interviews with other guests and motel staff had also come up empty. The bottom line was that so far they had found no evidence to help them name a specific suspect in her murder. Tony didn’t need evidence to know who was guilty.

  He straightened up as Frankie approached him. “We should be able to get a frame up before nightfall,” he said. “And then hopefully within a couple of days it should be done.”