True-Blue Cowboy Christmas

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True-Blue Cowboy Christmas Page 8

by Nicole Helm


  “No,” he finally said, his voice gruff from disuse. He turned his wheelchair so his back was to her, and Summer exhaled. She always seemed to hold her breath around him, like she was waiting for him to see through her.

  “Sometimes the worst thing is someone you can’t trust with your anger.”

  She stared at his retreating back, trying to make sense of the words. Or why he’d spoken them…or even why he’d spoken them to her.

  But his comment didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense, and she had work to do.

  * * *

  Thack tried to concentrate on inventory. He really did. It was important to gauge how much feed he had, to note if he would need to make adjustments to his normal order. November and December were hard months to get in to Bozeman and unpredictable weather-wise.

  He needed to concentrate, but all he could think about was Summer inside his house with his little girl. Who had spent almost all of Halloween night talking about Summer. About her caravan, about how she looked like the fairy queen and how she hoped Summer would teach her how to braid her hair.

  Thack knew Kate needed that. The hair braiding. Kate loved things that were so beyond his realm of experience. Thack knew he had to unclench.

  But knowing and doing were two separate things.

  Thack gave up concentrating. It’d make more sense to eat lunch, then check on everything. Then he could concentrate. Of course, with his luck, he’d discover that Dad had taken off for Bermuda or some such, and Summer and Kate would be in the kitchen dancing with knives over hot coals. Or something.

  Okay, he was probably nuts, but that didn’t stop the worry from clutching his mind like some kind of robot claw. He forced himself up the stairs of the porch and in through the front door—and then immediately froze.

  What on earth was that noise?

  A guitar. Singing. Had he fallen into some bizarre rendition of The Sound of Music? Of course, he didn’t have six kids, Summer wasn’t a nun, and there was no way he was that… They were…

  Okay, his stalling had officially taken a ridiculous turn, so it was time to force himself to move into the kitchen. He would eat his lunch, then go back to work and somehow not worry that everything had taken a turn for the different.

  He stepped into the kitchen, hoping the visual check would calm the constant whirring of his brain. There were just so many things to worry about, so many things he couldn’t seem to let go of.

  Summer was sitting on one of the counter stools. Dad had his harmonica out and was playing and tapping his foot while Summer accompanied him on a guitar. Kate sat at the kitchen table, clapping along.

  His gaze dropped to Kate’s lunch plate. Half a hot dog, two nibbled-on strawberries, a couple half-eaten carrots. Cracker crumbs. A glass of milk, half drunk. If she’d honest to goodness eaten what was missing off that plate, he was almost ready to call Summer a miracle worker.

  “Daddy, listen to Summer. She sounds like an angel when she sings.”

  Thack glanced at the woman sitting next to his father, the fair skin of her cheeks going pink. “Oh. Well. Let your dad eat lunch, sweetheart.” Summer popped off the seat, heading for the fridge. She was wearing another one of those long, colorful skirts that swished around her like fairy mist.

  Kate’s books were apparently getting to him.

  Summer glanced back at him, catching him looking at her.

  Why was he staring? He was just getting used to her in his space. It didn’t mean anything. But she caught him anyway and inclined her head, as if she wanted him to come stand next to her.

  Stiffly, he walked over to the fridge. She handed him a plate made up of a big sandwich and fruit and celery filled with peanut butter. It was such an odd meal, all in all, something he never could get Kate to eat.

  “Do you push?” she whispered, leaning her head toward his as she handed off the plate.

  She was wearing some kind of flowery scent, a feminine perfume that mingled with the smell of the peanut butter, and he felt like a child. For a flickering instant he was entirely at the mercy of this woman—Summer, who was supposedly five years his junior but somehow felt like the only adult in the room.

  “Push?” he repeated dumbly.

  Summer’s eyes slanted to Kate behind them, but she was busy making designs out of her half-eaten strawberries and not paying them any mind. “Do you push on the food? Would you want me to push her to eat more, or is that okay? Or do you want me to mind my own business?”

  Her questions were so deferential that he was caught by surprise, somehow forgetting that he’d been the one to set all the strict ground rules. “That’s a lot more than she usually eats.”

  “Oh.” Summer looked down at the counter, gathering up plates and things that must have been left over from lunch prep, but he couldn’t miss the way her mouth curled into a smile, or how gorgeous her profile was.

  Which was just… She was beautiful. He couldn’t argue himself out of that. But it really, truly, one hundred percent didn’t matter either way.

  “Well, I tried to give her a little bit of a lot of things. I hope that’s okay.”

  Thack opened his mouth to tell Summer she didn’t have to ask if things were okay, but that was the whole point. He didn’t know her, didn’t trust her, so she should ask regarding anything that involved Kate.

  “It’s a good strategy.”

  “Great.” She began loading the dishwasher, then nodded at the plate still in his hands. “You should sit and eat.”

  “Right.” He should sit and eat and remove himself from whatever weirdness was swirling around them. No, it wasn’t weird. He was just getting used to having someone else underfoot, that was all. Someone who made music with his father, while his daughter ate more for lunch than she usually did in a day.

  He sat down at the table, and when Kate got up on her knees and opened her mouth, he handed over the pickles on his sandwich without a second thought.

  Dad chuckled and Thack glared at him. “What are you laughing at?” he muttered.

  “Nothin’.” Dad brought the harmonica to his lips and played a few notes, something Thack thought he recognized, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to try to figure it out. When Dad grinned, Thack knew for a fact he didn’t want to know. Whatever that song was, the answer was only going to piss him off.

  “Play more, Grandpa! Daddy, can we watch The Little Mermaid tonight? You said for the three-day weekend we could stay up late.”

  Thack all but choked on the bite of sandwich he’d taken, finally recognizing the snatch of the tune.

  “Kiss the Girl.”

  He forced himself to stare at the sandwich. He would not look at Summer. He would not let on he’d recognized the song.

  “Sure,” he muttered to Kate, choking down the rest of his sandwich. Best to get out of here before things got weirder. “Make sure Grandpa gets out the VCR this afternoon.”

  “You barely took a breath between bites, boy. In that big of a hurry?” Dad clouded the question with concern, but Thack could hear his father’s laughter underneath the question.

  “Busy day. Gotta finish inventory and do a ride around.” It was an unnecessary explanation. Dad knew exactly what needed to be done. “I’ll be back for dinner.”

  He just needed some space. To recalibrate. Change always required a little adjustment period.

  Chapter 9

  Summer had dinner in the oven half an hour later than she’d planned. The living room was a mess of feathers and glitter because she’d thought a little craft project would be quick and easy to do with Kate. Mr. Lane had suggested it before he started napping in a chair in the living room.

  He’d tried to be sly, but Summer didn’t miss the little oxygen tank he was trying to hide behind the recliner. When she had her head down with Kate, he’d place the mask over his face and breathe into it—but the minute
she moved even an inch, he’d shove the mask back out of view.

  Summer had been so distracted by that, and by keeping Kate occupied while still being around Mr. Lane, and not letting Kate out of her sight, and trying to keep things tidy, that dinner had completely gone out of her mind until nearly five.

  What had started so easily, so perfectly was falling apart. She was falling apart. But she had to keep it together because Kate and Mr. Lane were sitting at the kitchen table doing a puzzle while she frantically shoved her carefully planned chicken dish into the oven.

  Mr. Lane had said Thack always came in for dinner between five fifteen and five thirty, unless there was cow trouble, and Summer prayed fervently for that kind of delay.

  She set the timer and winced when the front door creaked open. Neither Kate nor Mr. Lane seemed to notice, but they probably hadn’t been listening for the footsteps of doom.

  He’d been so…shocked and impressed at lunch. She’d felt like a queen. On top of the world. Now…

  She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the fresh wave of embarrassment and disappointment. She was being so foolish. He could hardly blame her for a little mess and a late dinner, especially when she’d been entertaining two people all afternoon.

  And yet, his surprise and awe this afternoon had been wonderful. She’d felt like she’d won some kind of lottery.

  And you liked the way he stared at you.

  Summer scoffed at the unbidden inner thought. He had not. Sure, she’d felt a little skitter across her skin, that rash-like feeling from the other day. Only without irritation behind it, the tickle on her arms hadn’t felt so much like a rash.

  It felt like a caress. The kind you actually wanted.

  “Well, the living room is full of feathers and glitter. Let me guess—you’ve been building fairies?”

  Thack stepped into the kitchen, and she knew she was being foolish. She knew she was letting her imagination and silly notions of romance take over reason and sense, things she had promised herself she wouldn’t do anymore. But the air changed when he came in the room. He was handsome. Kate was always talking about how Summer looked like that picture of a fairy queen, but Thack looked like a cowboy out of an old movie. He was broad and strong, with a smile for his daughter that made jittering sensations cartwheel through Summer’s chest.

  Do not be stupid, Summer. How could she have gone so quickly from not liking him at all to gooey-brained attraction?

  He touched Kate’s flyaway hair almost reverently, and that tenderness was the key to Summer’s undoing. For as irritating and off-putting as Thack had been in the beginning, his dedication to his daughter had melted so many of the defenses Summer had mustered.

  What must it be like to grow up knowing you were safe and loved?

  His gaze lifted to her, and something in her chest shifted awkwardly.

  “Everything okay?”

  Okay? Ha. Not by a long shot. But she had it under control. She was strong. She was resilient. Right? Right. “Dinner’s a little late, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “When the timer goes off, it’s ready. No fuss, really.” But that wasn’t what Mr. Lane had asked of her. Two meals a day, snacks for Kate. She hadn’t had a chance to help him with his woodworking shop today, but he hadn’t been feeling well, so she’d had to keep her eye on Kate.

  “You’re going to eat with us, aren’t you? And watch the movie! Oh, and spend the night.”

  Summer’s heart stuttered over saying no to Kate’s exuberant offer, but as much as she wanted to shower the motherless little girl with whatever she asked, she knew Thack wanted boundaries.

  It would be best if she gave herself some boundaries and calmed down. Typical first-day jitters—typical putting too much pressure on herself. She wasn’t going to fall back into that habit, that old Summer. Trying to please a volatile and unpredictable woman.

  So, she smiled at Kate. “I would love to, of course, but I have to go have dinner with my family.”

  Kate pouted but went back to her puzzle without making too much of a fuss.

  “I’ll just go tidy up the living room.” She’d put in a little overtime, and then Thack couldn’t find her lacking.

  She grabbed a rag and slipped out of the kitchen and went to the craft-table mess. She’d simply set this to rights, then—

  “You were supposed to be done a half hour ago. You don’t have to clean this up.”

  She turned to face Thack. He was as tense as always, but she thought he was trying, probably very hard, not to appear so…foreboding. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans instead of tensed at his sides, and his mouth wasn’t that firm, disapproving line.

  It wasn’t a smile either, but she wasn’t about to expect smiles from Thack Lane. Not yet anyway. Maybe that was a goal to aspire to.

  “That’s what your father’s paying me for though, right? Housekeeping.”

  “From eleven thirty until five thirty. You don’t need to put in any overtime on cleaning. You made lunch and dinner, and Kate didn’t escape. That’s pretty much what he’s paying you for, and we have been surviving without you.”

  “I’m here to make that surviving easier. I don’t mind putting in a few extra minutes to clean up a mess I initiated.”

  “All right. I…I’ll help.” He walked haltingly toward the table as Summer collected the feathers and stuffed them back into the craft box. Thack used the rag she’d set down to wipe up the glitter, and Summer picked at the little glue spots.

  It was weird to work side by side with him, silently cleaning. He was so…big and…hot.

  Come on, Summer. Be an adult. “You have quite the artist on your hands,” she quipped, probably far too cheerfully as she tried not to notice the easy, almost relaxed way he cleaned up the glitter. As though this was just part of his day. It probably was, but it was hard to reconcile this rough, strong cowboy with a man who read his daughter bedtime stories and, according to Kate, hand made her a fairy queen costume.

  “Yes, I keep hoping if she focuses all that imagination into art, she’ll stop taking off on me and scaring years off my life.” When Summer didn’t say anything, he sighed. “It’s okay. You can tell me I’m too uptight. It isn’t exactly news to me.”

  “I-I mean, I understand. You want to keep her safe. I think that’s admirable.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “You do?”

  “Well, I mean, I might go about it a little differently. But I’m me, and you’re…you.”

  He cocked his head. “Thanks. I think?”

  She chuckled and shook her head, handing him the box of feathers. “Anyway, I should head out.” Because if she stayed, she might be tempted to give him more compliments. Which wouldn’t be such a bad thing, but she had a feeling she might be a little transparent, and she didn’t want to make things weird.

  “Would you like a ride back to Shaw?”

  “No, thank you. It’s a short walk.” And she needed to get her head together. Somewhere away from this different side of Thack she was seeing.

  “It’s cold and getting dark.”

  “I don’t mind it.” Which was true, but more, tonight she needed it. Some time in the dark cold would give her space to get her thoughts together, to figure out what to do with a complicated attraction to a very, very complicated man.

  * * *

  Thack couldn’t stop himself from watching Summer as she walked away from the house. It was probably creepy, but the idea of her walking in the dark woods bothered him. She should be more careful.

  But that wasn’t any of his business. Summer Shaw was no concern of his outside his home. Where she’d spent the day somehow making his life… Easier wasn’t the right word. Lighter, maybe?

  More colorful, certainly. Not just because she dressed like a rainbow, but in the way the air… He really ne
eded to stop reading Kate so many fairy stories. He was starting to believe Summer might be a little bit fairy herself.

  The front door squeaked open, and Dad stepped out onto the porch.

  “Dinner ready? I’ll—”

  Dad blocked the door. “Few minutes yet.”

  “Okay, so what’s Kate do—”

  “Put in the movie. Told her we could eat on TV trays.” He folded his arms over his chest. “We need to talk.”

  “About?”

  “You.”

  Thack turned away, back to the railing and the view of trees and the flash of Summer’s colorful clothes disappearing deeper and deeper into the dusk-heavy woods between their properties.

  Dad took a step next to him. “She’s a pretty girl.”

  “Too young for you.”

  Dad snorted. “You’d be surprised.”

  Before Thack could lose his lunch over that comment, Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Sweet girl. Good to your daughter.”

  “And, thanks to you, an employee.”

  Dad shrugged. “So what?”

  He wasn’t going to argue with Dad about whatever he was trying to suggest. So Summer was young and pretty and good with Kate? He didn’t have time in his life for a woman. He most especially didn’t have time in his life for that woman. He might not know her well, but it didn’t take much knowing to suspect that she’d bring all kinds of complications into his life.

  Not to mention Kate was already attached, which meant he couldn’t allow himself to be. Someone had to keep their head out of the clouds.

  “You need something outside these fences, Thackery.”

  “I don’t have time for—”

  “You need to make some time. Hire a full-time ranch hand. We can afford it. Your life can’t be this ranch and that girl alone.”

  “I love this ranch and that girl alone.” What was wrong with that? Most of his old friends from high school didn’t have half what he had. “I don’t need anything else.”

 

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