Click bit back his smile. While it had never occurred to him that he’d inherit Lynnie’s place, Woodrow Boone had probably been counting on it. He was curious to hear what Mr. Boone was willing to offer, but he wasn’t ready to consider selling—not yet. Maybe never.
“Well, that wasn’t too bad.” Scarlett patted his arm. “Was it?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
“That’s the key,” Renata said, patting the chair between her and Tandy. “Stay on his good side.”
“I thought I was already on his bad side.” He grinned, sitting. “Might be impossible to change that.” As long as Woodrow Boone was civil, Click was content.
“Da-gee,” Pearl said, giggling as Banshee sat his chin on Click’s knee. “Hi.”
Click shook his head. “Gettin’ new words every day. Like a sponge.”
“She is, so watch your language,” Scarlett said. “We had a guest whose three-year-old ran around chanting one word over and over again.” She shook her head, her cheeks bright red. “He had an older brother—quite a bit older.”
Click grinned, curious. “What was he saying?” He was pretty sure Scarlett’s idea of a bad word wasn’t all that bad.
Scarlett shook her head.
Tandy laughed, leaning forward to whisper. “What did it rhyme with?”
Scarlett looked around, then leaned forward. “Luck.”
He whistled, surprised. “You weren’t kidding. Not the most age-appropriate word.”
“Is there an appropriate bad word for a three-year-old?” Scarlett asked.
“No, not really. But maybe he should have started with a tame one. You know, something that rhymes with...ham,” Renata said, laughing. “Or bell.”
Tandy laughed. “Renata.”
“Ta-dee,” Pearl said, clapping her hands. “Hi.”
Hearing Pearl singsong Tandy’s name brought a smile to his lips. In the short amount of time they’d spent together, Tandy had made an impression on his baby girl. Click understood. Tandy did that, left an impression.
“Hi,” Tandy said, reaching for Pearl’s hand. “Hi, Pearl. Is the doggie taking care of you?”
Pearl smiled down at Banshee, her little fingers resting on the dog’s head.
“Banshee is a good dog.” Tandy nodded, rubbing the dog’s ear. “He takes care of me, too.”
Click sat back, amused by their conversation of sorts. Pearl gibber-jabbered, her face animated as she talked to Tandy. Tandy listened closely, her expressions just as animated, like she understood every word. Just when he thought Pearl had chattered herself out, she started again, drawing a huge smile from Tandy. There were other people at the table observing them, likely reading too much into things. But watching Pearl and Tandy was too charming to resist.
“Food’s ready,” Renata said. “Our table’s up.”
“I’ll keep her,” Tandy said, reaching for Pearl.
His daughter squealed gleefully, clapping her hands as Tandy lifted her high in the air.
“You’re not eating?” he asked.
“Renata will get me something.” She made a pouty face at Renata.
Renata giggled. “I will?”
“Please?” Tandy pressed her cheek against Pearl’s, the two of them staring at Renata.
Renata sighed. “Shameless.”
He liked Tandy like this, the way she’d been before. Playful. Smiling. Full of spirit and fun. Without sadness shadowing her eyes and twisting his gut. She was made for joy, not heartache. If there was something he could do to make her happy, he’d do it.
He followed Scarlett and Renata to the buffet line, reality returning with every step. He hadn’t made Tandy happy in a long time. No, dammit, he’d been the one to put that sadness in her eyes.
“You still love her?” Renata asked.
He didn’t say a word.
“Renata,” Scarlett hissed.
Renata frowned. “I’m worried about my friends, Scarlett. Just like you. So don’t shush me.”
Click sighed. “No need to worry.” Worry was pointless.
“Oh, really?” Renata asked, taking two plates. “She hasn’t dated since you. Hasn’t looked at a guy.”
Click’s throat felt tight. Tandy deserved love. He wanted that for her. And yet, even knowing it was wrong, Renata’s words were a massive relief.
“What happened that made her so guarded? Why’d you guys chuck in the towel?” she asked, adding food to each plate. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not exactly the picture of happiness either.”
He shot her a look.
“I love you guys,” Renata said. “We love you guys. We’ve been too close too long to stand by and watch you two hurt like this.”
“Not that we’re wanting to pry,” Scarlett interjected.
Renata sighed. “I’m fine with prying. Sometimes confronting things is the only way to fix it.”
In this case, confronting things would lead to tears and pain. “Sometimes it’s not,” he offered.
They both stopped and looked at him.
“It would hurt all over again,” he said, his words soft. He glanced across the room to their table. Tandy was up, walking awkwardly, holding Pearl’s hand in hers. His daughter was following Banshee in a slow circle around their table. When Pearl let go of Tandy, Tandy trailed behind her—a smile on her beautiful face. He’d learned to let go of the anger he had. Holding on to something hard and cold was wrong, especially when it came to Tandy. What happened was no one’s fault.
“She’s still hurting,” Renata pushed.
“We both are.” He tried, and failed, to keep the edge from his voice. “There’s no way to fix it, Renata.” He took his laden plate back to the table, shaking off his frustration when Pearl came squealing his way—arms outstretched—for him. He scooped her up, hugging her close. No matter what, he had this precious gift. Pearl loved him and he’d do his damnedest to make sure she always did.
Chapter Seven
“Polly sprained her ankle at the trail ride this morning. And Annette called in sick,” Scarlett pleaded. “We’re shorthanded for the dance lessons.”
Tandy patted Pearl on the back, too smitten with the sleeping baby in her arms to care about her uncle’s latest crisis. She’d done her duty, hosting the kids’ sing-along and helping out with the marshmallows—and cleanup.
“Annette?” Renata asked. “The picture of health we saw at the grocery store this morning?”
Tandy nodded. Unless Annette had been struck with food poisoning, her illness was pretty hard to swallow. Again, not her problem.
Scarlett nodded. “You love dancing anyway, Renata.”
Renata arched an eyebrow. “With men. That aren’t married or teenagers or old and handsy.”
Tandy giggled. “Old and handsy? All of them? Even that one?” She nodded to a rather distinguished-looking older gentleman, sitting stiffly in his chair.
“Especially that one,” Renata agreed.
Tandy and her cousins burst out laughing. Pearl stirred, so Tandy went back to gently patting the baby’s back—glancing Click’s way. He was watching them, all smiles. It was the first time she’d seen him looking relaxed since he got here.
“Tandy?” Scarlett pleaded.
Click looked her way, his gaze probing hers. “I can take her if you need to help your uncle.”
Tandy glared at him. “She’s so peaceful. Moving her might wake her up.”
His grin grew. “Might.”
“I will if Tandy will. She remembers everything. I always just follow you two.” Renata stood, stretching her arms over her head. “Stop hogging the baby and let’s get the show on the road.” She smiled sweetly.
Tandy frowned. “This is not fair. I’m busy.”
Scarlett and Renata both smiled at the sleeping baby
in her arms. But Renata recovered first.
“Click.” Renata pointed at Pearl. “Take your child so Tandy can suffer with us.”
Tandy glared at Renata, then Click. He couldn’t possibly know how badly she wanted to get out of this. She was tired and emotionally drained. Holding Pearl soothed away the knots of the day, inside and out. Being groped and stepped on held about as much appeal as a hot poker to the eye.
Click held his hands up in surrender, his gaze shifting from Renata to her. His dimple appeared as his husky laugh bowled over her. There was a shift in the air, in her. Her irritation moments before was forgotten. Now there was only a molten throb deep inside. It was exciting to yearn like this. It had been so long. But it was also absolutely terrifying. It was always Click. He was beautiful. And tempting. And she was an idiot.
Time to learn from my mistakes.
Sitting there, holding his daughter, smiling and making small talk opened doors that needed to stay shut. She knew how real a threat he was. How easy it was to lose herself in him, to the sensations he stirred, and the strength of his arms. Something this fiery would only burn them both again.
Tandy stood, shifting Pearl into his arms as carefully as her shaking hands would allow. “Let’s do this,” she said, ignoring his startled expression and walking out onto the hardwood dance floor. “But you’re taking lead, Scarlett.”
Scarlett turned beet red, but she nodded, slipping the microphone around her neck. “Good evening, ya’ll. How many of you are having a great time at Fire Gorge?”
There was a general rumble of approval, but part of the job was building up the crowd.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Scarlett said, glancing at Renata. “Did you?”
Renata shook her head.
“How about you, Tandy?”
Tandy shook her head, planting her hands on her hips.
“Let’s try that again,” Scarlett said, her voice wavering. “Who’s having a good time here at Fire Gorge?”
That time, the crowd cut loose.
When the noise died down, she heard Pearl crying. Click was up, bouncing her in his arms as he paced back and forth behind the table. She fought the urge to offer help. It wasn’t her place. He was Pearl’s father. He’d calm her down.
But Pearl didn’t want to be calmed down. Tandy held off through the line-dancing lesson, telling herself over and over Click could handle it.
Pearl’s fretful “Ta-dee” was her undoing.
She crossed the dance floor, focusing on Pearl. Not Click. “Hey, hey, cuddle bunny. Hush now.”
Pearl hiccuped, leaning toward her. “Ta-dee.”
Tandy frowned. “Oh, Pearl. It’s okay.” She glanced at Click then.
“She wants you,” he said, his voice soft and gruff, at a loss.
“I don’t know why,” Tandy mumbled.
“She’s been through a lot in the last week.” He moved closer, shifting Pearl from his arms to hers.
This week hadn’t been what she’d signed up for either. But her thoughts shorted out when his hands brushed over hers. He smelled the same. Warmth rolled off him. And his hands, on her arms, sent a shudder down her spine. There was a sadness to him, a defeated quality, she’d never seen in Click Hale. She didn’t like it. “Seems to me you both have,” she whispered, pressing Pearl close.
His gaze met hers, guarded and wary. He nodded.
“Let’s dance,” she said, needing to break the tension between them. Now wasn’t the time for conversation. Her uncle would undoubtedly be watching them like a hawk. And Pearl was still out of sorts. “She’d probably like it.”
He nodded again, his gaze sweeping slowly over her face.
She carried Pearl back onto the floor, standing at the end of one of the lines. Click joined her, stepping into the stomps, spins and kicks with ease. As predicted, Pearl went from teary-eyed to wide-eyed, watching the smiling faces of the dancers around them. She giggled when Tandy dipped her, then spun them around. The dance steps were easy, most line dances were. By the second time through, people were catching on. By the time the dance was over, they were throwing in “Yee-haws” and whistles, and having a good time.
When the dancers clapped, Pearl clapped, too—and kept right on clapping.
By the time the next dance was over, half of Fire Gorge’s guests were besotted with Pearl’s huge brown eyes and bouncy black curls. She was pretty impossible to resist.
Whenever the music stopped, Pearl looked expectantly at Tandy. She bounced in Tandy’s arms, humming and clapping.
“Dance,” Tandy said. “You like dancing, Pearl?”
Pearl smiled, bouncing again.
“More?” Tandy asked. “Want to dance some more?”
Pearl nodded, looking around the dance floor.
So Tandy danced again and again, too delighted by Pearl’s enthusiasm to care. When the line dancing was done, Pearl was looking heavy-lidded and drowsy. “Probably need a change before she dozes off,” she said to Click. “Want me to take her?”
“Tandy, you don’t have to.” He glanced back and forth between her and Pearl.
“I know. I offered.” She couldn’t look at him for too long. Not because of the memories he stirred, but the longing. When her libido had woken up and taken notice, she wasn’t entirely sure. For two years, she’d felt cold and hollow inside. Now, she was alive and...wanting. She brushed past him to the table, and grabbed Pearl’s diaper bag.
Pearl didn’t fuss as they made their way to the bathroom. She happily tugged off her slipper shoes while she lay on the changing table. She cooed and clapped through her diaper change, then reached for Tandy when she was clean and dressed.
“All better?” Tandy asked. “Nice and dry. Bye-bye, diaper.” Tandy tossed the wet diaper into the bin and smiled at Pearl.
“Bye-bye.” Pearl’s eyes filled with tears. “Bye-bye?”
Tandy’s heart broke. “No bye-bye.” Tandy shook her head.
Pearl shook her head vigorously. “Ta-dee.”
“I’ve got you.” She nodded, forcing a smile as she lifted her from the changing table and set her on her feet. “I’m here.”
Pearl nodded. “Ta-dee.”
“Let’s wash our hands.” Tandy set Pearl on the counter, pushing her far from the edge, and soaped up her hands. Pearl loved the water against her hands, so Tandy took her time with the process. When they were done, Tandy’s shirtfront was wet, but Pearl was smiling from ear to ear.
Tandy held Pearl’s hand as they made their way back into the buffet hall. Click was dancing with a teenager—a teenager who was doe-eyed and flushed with nerves. She knew how that felt. Click Hale was the sort of man who made women of all ages sit up and take notice.
Banshee greeted them, licking Pearl on the cheek and offering Tandy a short bark. Pearl barked back, making Banshee sit back and cock his head to the side.
“Pearl’s saying hi, Banshee.” Tandy squatted at Pearl’s side. “Right, Pearl? Hi, doggie.”
Pearl nodded. “Hi, hi, hi, da-gee.” She toddled forward, wrapped her arms around Banshee’s neck and pressed a big openmouthed kiss on the dog’s cheek. Banshee, good dog that he was, sat still through it all. Then promptly licked her face.
“Ta-dee,” Pearl squealed, tugging her hand and pointing at the dance floor.
“Dance?” Tandy asked. “You want to dance, Pearl?”
Pearl nodded, her black curls bouncing.
“Okay. Let’s dance.”
* * *
“SORRY IF I stepped on your toes,” the girl said, blushing.
Click tipped his hat. “Not once. Besides, that’s one of the reasons a cowboy wears boots.”
She smiled and made her way back to her table, three teenage girls staring at them, watching their friend closely.
“That was a lie, Click Hale,” Evelyn Boone
said, wearing a tolerant smile.
“I was taught to be a gentleman, Mrs. Boone,” he responded. “Took a lot of nerve to ask me to dance. Didn’t want to ding her confidence by telling her she broke a few of my toes.”
Evelyn shook her head, glancing at the young girl. “Looks like you made her night.” She paused. “So, Click, what have you been up to since last you were here?”
“Work.” His attention wandered around the room, alarm bells ringing. Evelyn was looking for dirt on him. Did she think he was going to open up to her? She might never have insulted him to his face, caused a scene and humiliated him thoroughly, but she’d stood by when her husband had.
“You earn your living on the road, like your father?” she asked. “Driving trucks?”
Click swallowed, refusing to let her words get to him. She didn’t know how he felt about his father, and he kept it buried deep down. “No, ma’am.”
“I think Lynnie mentioned you rodeo’d a bit?” she asked. “Then you worked at the Sanchez place, training cutting horses, for a bit, too?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, knowing full well Lynnie hadn’t shared this much information with Evelyn Boone. He’d never rodeo’d, too expensive for him. But he’d scouted stock for a couple of the rodeo companies. He had a good eye and enjoyed the work, travel and regular paycheck.
“And now? Are you still on the rodeo circuit or working for Mr. Sanchez?”
He grinned. “I’ve been training the last few years.” The work made him happy.
His father had delivered horses to the Sanchez place a handful of times when Click had been stuck on the road with him. The first time he saw Mr. Sanchez working with horses, he’d known what he wanted to do with his life. From then on, Click begged to go back, watching the trainers at work and taking notes. When he got old enough, Mr. Sanchez offered him an apprenticeship. He hadn’t earned a dime. But he’d had food in his stomach, a bed to sleep in and the opportunity to learn a skill he was fervent about.
Cowboy Lullaby (The Boones 0f Texas Book 6) Page 8