Candy Kisses (Romance on the Ranch #4)

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Candy Kisses (Romance on the Ranch #4) Page 7

by Verna Clay


  Selecting a pair of intricately tooled beige boots that appeared new, Monica winced as she slipped her foot into a boot someone else had once worn. Never in her life had she imagined wearing someone else's shoe. It fit perfectly.

  Another customer came to the dressing area carrying a pile of clothing and Monica quickly vacated her room. When she separated her purchases from Tessa's, she was surprised that it only totaled forty-five dollars. She reached into her purse to pay, but Tessa placed a hand on her arm. "Oh, no, Miz Monica. Daddy said he's payin' for this. You should use his credit card."

  "Honey, I appreciate your father's generosity, but there's no way I'm letting him pay." She handed the clerk a fifty dollar bill.

  "Okay. But Daddy's not gonna like it."

  Chapter 13: Concrete Memories

  Tessa grabbed Monica's hand and pulled her past the hordes of onlookers vying for the best places to watch the parade. "This is my favorite spot." She stopped in front of a restaurant called Sizzling Sicily. A heavy set woman with a gray topknot sat in a folding chair near the curb and smiled warmly. "Howdy, Tessa; I saved you and your housekeeper a place." She pointed at two empty chairs next to her.

  "Thanks, Miz Fitzpatrick. I surely appreciate it."

  The old woman reached a welcoming hand toward Monica. "As the girl said, my name's Mrs. Fitzpatrick, but you can call me Lulu. What's your name?"

  "Monica. I'm pleased to meet you, Lulu."

  Lulu waved to someone behind Monica. "Well howdy, Tooty and Miles. That's sure a passel of kids you got. Reminds me of me and Horace—God rest his soul—some forty years ago."

  Monica stiffened. I don't think I'm ready to face Miles. Maybe if I keep my back turned they won't know it's me.

  Lulu said, "Com'on over and meet Monica. She's the babysitter and housekeeper Dirk hired."

  Monica groaned and slowly turned around.

  Tooty smiled warmly with boys on either side of her, their hands grasped in hers. Her belly seemed to have grown since their heartfelt conversation at Dirk's cabin. Beside her, Miles had their youngest on his lap with Harris standing next to his wheelchair. Harris gave her a curious look but didn't say anything. Miles smiled and had such an expression of contentment, Monica blinked. He had truly found the missing link in his life.

  "Hello, Monica. It's good to see you. From one New Yorker to another, have you overcome culture shock yet?"

  Relieved that the dreaded meeting with Miles had turned out to be nothing like the nightmare she'd envisioned, Monica said with a chuckle, "I'm still working on that. But I'm getting better."

  Miles said, "These are my sons. You already know Harris." He indicated the boy standing beside him. Then he patted the head of the blonde child on his lap. "And this is Austin." He nodded toward the boys on either side of Tooty. "That's Morgan with blonde hair and Eli with brown."

  Monica said, "Hello boys. Harris, it's good to see you again. You've certainly grown. How old are you now?"

  Politely, Harris responded, "Howdy, ma'am. I'm twelve."

  Miles motioned toward the other boys. "Morgan is four, Eli is seven, and Austin is two."

  Morgan said, "Don't forget baby girl."

  Miles laughed, "And, as you can see, we're about to add another member to our family." He looked over at Tessa. "Hello, sweetie. I hear your dad's in the parade."

  "Yes, sir. He's in the float with Miz Tawnie."

  The boy sitting on Miles lap squealed and pointed toward the street. "Kwowns!" he shouted.

  Monica turned to see the parade had begun with maybe a dozen clowns cavorting back and forth. A few walked on stilts, some did cartwheels and tumbled, some tossed candy, and two more drove tiny cars, weaving back and forth from curb to curb.

  Tooty said, "Ann and Jackson saved us seats further down. We'd better hurry so we can get settled." She glanced at Monica. "After the parade you're coming to the hoedown at the park aren't you? It's lots of fun with a picnic and dancing."

  Tessa answered for her. "Oh, yes. We'll be there. Me and Monica made oatmeal cookies for the picnic."

  Harris said, "Com'on, Dad, before all the good stuff starts."

  "Yeah, Daddy," said the seven year old.

  The child in Miles' lap said, "I wike pwades."

  He and Tooty laughed and Tooty said with a little wave, "We'll see you later." Then she added, "Monica, don't forget coffee this Wednesday with the gals."

  "I'll be there," she responded, wishing she had a good excuse not to go.

  Lulu shouted to one of the clowns, "Hey Boon, throw some candy this-a-way!"

  Monica and Tessa settled in their chairs and before long, they were both craning their necks to see what was behind the current parade participants. The clowns gave way to a marching band with majorettes. Upbeat music and tuba players doing dips and twirls had the crowd laughing. After the marching band came dance teams, baton twirlers, more bands, more clowns, and floats created by schools and local businesses.

  Monica gasped and pointed. "Look, there's your father and Tawnie!" A yellow float trimmed with gaudy pink paper flowers and pulled by a Hummer moved into position directly in front of them and stopped. Monica found herself jumping to her feet with all the spectators and clapping and shouting. Tawnie, surrounded by attendants in frilly dresses, and wearing a pink, super frilly, frou-frou dress herself, and a golden tiara, waved to the crowd. Beside her, and in some ways more striking, Dirk wore a short-waist, double breasted, two-toned black and brown leather jacket with long fringe that rippled when he lifted his arms to wave. Monica, who had never cared for western wear, changed her mind, at least for the parade, and admired his handsome form. The crowd went wild when he lifted his cowboy hat and waved it also. Dirk Branigan was in his element. It was a side of her employer she hadn't witnessed before. He scanned the crowd until he located Tessa, blew her a kiss, and then moved his gaze to Monica. Her heart stopped and then beat rapidly when he waved especially to her.

  Monica, stop it. He's your employer.

  He turned his attention to the crowd across the street and the float moved on.

  Following the princess float, horses ridden by men and women in glittery costumes pranced from curb to curb. Monica marveled that some of the horses were actually decked out more fancifully than their owners. She grabbed Tessa's hand. "I've never seen anything like this up close. It's wonderful!"

  Tessa returned her squeeze. "I know. I just love parades!"

  The rest of the parade after the horses, although fun, had none of the pizzazz of what had come before. Mostly, it was local clubs wearing their uniforms and tossing candy. Soon it was over when the Veterans of Foreign Wars became the last marchers. Everyone began gathering their belongings.

  Lulu said, "Well, Tessa and Monica, I'll see you at the picnic. And don't worry about these chairs. My grandson is coming to load them on his truck."

  "Okay, Miz Fitzpatrick. Thanks for always saving a place for me."

  "Glad to do it, little one." The old woman reached to pat Tessa's curls that had escaped the French braid Monica had weaved that morning.

  Tessa kissed Lulu's cheek and then clasped Monica's hand. "We can grab our cookies out of the truck and then walk to the park. It's only a few blocks. I want to show you something."

  Two blocks over from Main Street, Tessa stopped in front of an adorable white clapboard house with daisies, geraniums, climbing roses, and even sunflowers creating a profusion of color on an already colorful street of similar homes. The sight of the house, with two rockers on the wide front porch and boxes of pansies attached to the windows, caused a lump to form in Monica's throat. As a child, it was the kind of home she had often imagined living in. She had daydreamed of a mommy who baked and came to her school functions and a daddy who kissed her mommy and took them to the movies and the circus and parades. "This is a beautiful home, Tessa. Do you know who lives here?"

  "Mr. and Mrs. Hightower do now, but me and Daddy and Mommy used to live here 'til I was five, then we moved to the cabin. I li
ke the cabin, but sometimes I walk by here just to remember Mommy. Here's what I wanted to show you." She knelt under an arbor at the beginning of a stone pathway. Brushing leaves aside she said, "Me and Mommy and Daddy put our handprints in the cement when the men made the walkway. Look here."

  Monica went down on her knees beside the heartbroken child who had placed her hand in her mother's print, and something in her heart shattered. Once again, she was a little girl pining for a mother who showed little regard for her child. Tears welled and she placed her hand over Tessa's. "Oh, honey, I know how you feel." Pulling the child to her breast, she allowed tears to stream as she whispered words of comfort, not only to the wounded child, but to her own wounded spirit.

  After a time of sobbing together, Monica reached into her second-hand purse that Tessa had insisted she buy, and which was really cute, and pulled out some tissues. They blew their noses at the same time and then laughed together.

  The front door opened and a middle-aged woman called, "Is that you, Tessa?"

  Tessa twisted around. "Yes, Mrs. Hightower. I was just showin' Miz Monica my mama's handprint."

  "Okay, honey. Would the two of you like to come in for tea?"

  "No, ma'am. That's right nice of you, but we're headed for the picnic at the park. Aren't you comin'?"

  "I can't. My Fred is feelin' a might poorly and I don't want to leave him. But you be sure and tell your daddy and everyone hi from us."

  "I surely will, ma'am."

  Before the woman turned to enter her house, she said, "And I'm pleased to meet ya, Miz Monica. I told Dirk he needed to hire a housekeeper and someone to watch Tessa. I woulda' done it myself if my Fred wasn't sick."

  Monica grinned. The fact that everyone in town knew she was the housekeeper and babysitter no longer bothered her. "Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Hightower. I hope your husband feels better."

  The woman made a waving motion. "Prob'ly won't happen. He's always got somethin'."

  Chapter 14: Party Down Hoedown

  Tessa led Monica a few more blocks and Monica hoped that by the time they arrived at the festivities no one would know she'd been crying.

  "There it is." Tessa pointed.

  A lovely park with shade trees, swings and slides, benches and picnic tables, and a profusion of flowers made Monica smile. Cowtown, USA was beginning to grow on her.

  A crowd of folks had already arrived and long white tablecloths billowing in the breeze covered picnic tables under an awning. Women leaned busily over the tables setting out and arranging dishes of food.

  Tessa grabbed her hand. "Look, there's Toby and Preston. You've never met them. They're Sage and Sarah's boys." She looked at the container of cookies in Monica's hand. "I'll just run the cookies over to the dessert table and be right back. Then you can meet the twins."

  Monica sure hoped her eyes were no longer red from crying. Patting her hair, which by now barely resembled the cut she'd paid a fortune for in New York, she realized it was almost long enough to pull into a ponytail. Never.

  Tessa rushed to one of the picnic tables, set the cookies down, and ran back to Monica. She called to the boys. "Hey Toby; hey Preston, come meet my nanny."

  Nanny? Monica smiled. She kind of liked the term.

  Identical twins who looked to be about Harris' age, ran over. "Howdy, ma'am," they almost said in unison.

  "Hello, Toby and Preston." Which one of you is Toby and which is Preston?"

  "I'm Toby, ma'am."

  "And I'm Preston."

  Toby cocked his head. "You sure are pretty. Maybe you should marry Dirk, then you could be Tessa's new mama."

  Monica's mouth dropped and a voice from behind her said, "Toby, what have I told you about considering what you say before saying it?"

  Toby studied the ground. "Sorry, Mom."

  A woman walked around Monica. "I apologize for my son."

  Monica recognized Sarah Tanner from the coffee shop debacle.

  Sarah stuck out her hand in greeting. "It's good to see you again, Monica." She glanced at Tessa, "And you too, honey-pie."

  "Hi Sarah," said Tessa.

  Toby fidgeted and kicked at dirt clods. Sarah turned her attention on him, "What is it, Toby?"

  He grinned widely, "Can me and Preston and Tessa go play on the swings?"

  "Yeah," Preston agreed.

  "You boys can go, but Tessa will have to get permission from Monica."

  Tessa glanced up at Monica.

  "Honey, you go have a great time. Just check in with me once in a while."

  "Okay, Miz Monica."

  "Com'on Tessa and Preston," Toby took off running with the other two children sprinting behind him.

  Sarah said, "Did you enjoy the parade?"

  "Very much. I've never been to one before."

  Sarah looked surprised. "Really? Even in New York you never attended the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade?"

  "No. But I always watched it on television, if that counts," she chuckled.

  "Nope. Doesn't count. There's nothing like being up close and feeling the vibrations from the marching bands."

  Monica laughed. "You're right on that account. I'll never view televised parades in the same light."

  The easy banter Monica was having with Sarah surprised her and lightened her spirit. Sarah said, "Come meet my husband."

  Monica's lightheartedness started to take a dive, but she followed Sarah to a man with his back turned toward them who was speaking to the cowboy named Jackson that Monica had seen on her first visit to Dixie's Cuppa Joe.

  Sarah touched her husband's arm and he turned around, smiling at his wife with unabashed affection. When his gaze met Monica's she did a double take. Dirk had been right about this guy being a famous model. She had seen him in everything from Calvin Klein to Harvey Livingston. Now, dressed in jeans and a cowboy shirt faded from too many washings, but so appropriate on him as to be a part of his body, he was the most magnificent specimen of the male species that Monica had ever seen. She blinked once, twice, and then said, "Forgive me for staring. I recognize you from your fashion layouts. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Tanner."

  His mouth lifted in an easy smile. "Not a problem. Please, call me Sage. May I call you Monica?"

  "Yes, of course."

  Sage said, "Have you met Jackson Martinez?"

  Monica glanced at the tall cowboy beside Sage, but still not as tall as Sage.

  "No, I met Ann though, and I saw you in Dixie's Cuppa Joe a few weeks back."

  Jackson tipped his hat. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. Annie should be here soon with our daughter, Angel; and Sarah and Sage's daughter, Hannah. They had to put the finishing touches on their cake." He grinned proudly. "My wife's a fabulous cook and lives for occasions like this."

  Sage placed his arm around his wife's shoulders and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Although Sarah was not a beautiful woman and tended toward the full-figured side of the scale, they were obviously smitten with each other. Sarah appeared a little older than her husband and well into her forties, maybe even fifties, and Sage had the timeless look of a man who aged gracefully, like Sean Connery.

  Sarah said, "Monica, why don't you and I walk and I'll introduce you around?"

  Unreasonable panic clutched Monica's heart. "Oh, I-I'm only here for a few more weeks. It's really not necessary."

  Sarah gave her a calculated look. "Okay. Then let's sit on a bench and watch the children play?"

  Monica felt such relief at the woman's sensitivity that she wanted to hug her. "I'd like that."

  Monica said a polite goodbye to Sage and Jackson and then followed Sarah to a bench. Sarah asked as they sat down, "Are you having much morning sickness?"

  Monica laughed, "All the time."

  Sarah laughed, too. "I can relate to how you feel. I hated it." She sighed. "But it was so worth it."

  Monica said, "Yes, it will be. So, you have another daughter besides Julie?"

  "Yes. Julie is Sage's daughter from a previous marriage and we also
have a five year old."

  Monica must have looked startled because Sarah chuckled, "I had her when I was forty-eight. I met Sage when I was almost forty after signing up for his dude ranch for six weeks. I was doing research for a book."

  Monica found herself fascinated by Sarah's story. Sarah continued, "I had met him a few weeks earlier in New York while he was posing for the cover of my latest novel." She smiled behind her hand. "And believe me, it wasn't love at first sight. I couldn't stand the man. Anyway, to make a long story short, I ended up at the Lazy M Ranch not knowing he owned it. After I got to know him…" she turned to Monica, "I fell madly in love. But I didn't think anything could come of our romance because when I looked at him and then at myself, well…you get the picture. Of course, I was only looking at our physical attributes and seeing myself on the short end of the beauty stick." With a waving motion she said, "Thank God, Sage didn't give up and pursued me in a most unusual way." She giggled. "Someday, I'll tell you about it, but right now I see Ann coming toward us with the girls."

  Monica had been so mesmerized by Sarah's confidences that she had to mentally shake herself back into the present moment.

  Sarah waved and called, "Ann, over here."

  Monica touched Sarah's arm, "You said you're an author. Do you go by your own name?"

  "Goodness, no. My pen name is Mims Murphy." She stood and an adorable little girl with dark brunette ringlets cascading over her shoulders ran and hugged her.

  "Hi, Mommy. Me and Angel helped put the candies on the cake and it's so pretty!"

  Sarah bent and hugged her child. "I can't wait to taste it."

  Monica was still processing the fact that she was talking to Mims Murphy, one of her favorite chic-lit authors, when Ann, the other woman she had met at the coffee shop, stopped in front of the bench. She was holding hands with a child that truly looked like her namesake—Angel. Blond hair pulled into a ponytail reached her waist and huge blue eyes matched her happy smile. Like her father, her dark complexion was a striking contrast to her hair and eyes and Monica remembered Jackson's last name was Martinez, so she understood their Hispanic coloring.

  Ann, a petite, slim woman, with a lovely olive complexion and medium brown hair, who appeared to be in her mid forties, said, "Hello Monica. It's good to see you again. Did you enjoy the parade?"

 

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