A Cowboy's Heart

by Brenda Minton

  “I’ll see you later, Willow.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Really?”

  “You offered.” She shifted on booted feet and bit down on her bottom lip. “I do have a few things I could pick up at the store.”

  “You don’t mind running by the nursing home with me?” Willow, going with him, to see his dad. What kind of move into his life was that?

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  But did he mind her going? A long time ago, but not that long ago, he’d been a lanky teen with dirty jeans, and girls like Willow wouldn’t have climbed into his truck if his had been the last truck out of a burning town. That kid was still inside him, still fighting acne, and dreaming about someday having a wife and a family, maybe a ranch with some cattle and a nice truck.

  He hadn’t had a lot of time for fun back then, not with farm work, his dad drunk most of the time and Jenna relying on him. He still had that list of priorities, things that had to come first, had to come ahead of his own dreams.

  Willow had shifted everything, and now he had to figure out where to put her in his life.

  “Where to first?” Willow was talking to him as she pulled her hair back and tied it with a thin scarf. Strawberry lip gloss tinted her lips, and he was having the hardest time of his life remembering his responsibilities.

  “The nursing home.” He opened the passenger door of his truck for her, and she climbed up, reaching to pull the door closed. He shut it from the outside and took his time getting to the driver’s side.

  “Why are you acting like I’ve invaded your personal space?” Willow spoke as soon as he climbed into his truck. “You’ve been invading my space since the day I met you.”

  He reached to turn down the radio. He didn’t need a country song about a stupid boy. Not even if that’s what he thought about her ex-husband walking out on her.

  “You’re not invading my space. I have a lot on my mind.”

  She was on his mind. Great, all of his thoughts were starting to sound like a country song. If this day ended with the dog getting run over or someone going to prison, he’d switch to rock music.

  Intent on letting the conversation drop, he reached to turn up the radio. She turned it up more, smiling. “I like this song.”

  Of course she did.

  They were a mile from the nursing home. “Willow, I need to warn you about my dad.”

  “Okay.”

  “He’s hard to handle. Sometimes he’s in the past, sometimes not. And he says things, sometimes hard things.”

  “I can handle it.”

  He knew she could, but he didn’t want her to be on the receiving end of one of his father’s verbal assaults. “Maybe you should…”

  “Wait in the car?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “If you want me to wait in the car, I will. I’d rather go in with you.”

  He pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home. “No, I don’t want you to wait.”

  He’d always been the one who was there for others. He’d been there for his dad, and for his sister. Other than Janie, he’d never really thought about having someone “there” for him. But that’s what this was about. It was about Willow trying to be there for him. It felt like a new pair of boots, not quite right.

  He had put her in the category of another woman he was drawn to who probably needed to be fixed in some way. That had been his track record in the past.

  He parked, and she got out of the truck. Willow, tall and beautiful, from a world far removed from his. And she was the one who was going to be there for him as he faced a father who was sinking into a world they couldn’t understand.

  Her hand slipped into his, and the earlier discussion about riding bulls and being in each other’s space faded from his mind. It was no longer important.

  At the front desk they signed in as visitors. Willow signed her name next to his. As they walked down the hall, their shoulders brushed, and his hand touched hers. He felt her fingers on his, but they didn’t clasp hands. He didn’t explain to her about his dad, and about the times the older Cameron had gotten drunk and hit his children because he’d been positive their mother died in that car accident because of them, because she’d been on her way to school to pick them up.

  Clint inhaled deeply at the memory of the patrol car pulling up at the school and the social worker helping them into the vehicle.

  Willow’s fingers slid through his. She knew how his mother had died. She’d explained that Janie told her and she was sorry.

  “How long has he been here?”

  “A few months. I moved him in here before I moved home.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy. I’m sorry.”

  She had lost a child and her husband had walked out on her. He kissed the side of her head, his lips brushing her hair. “Thank you.”

  “Is that you, Clint?” The raspy voice from inside the room carried into the hall.

  “It’s me, Dad.”

  “Is Jenna with you?”

  Clint led Willow into the room, felt her hesitate at the door, but then she stepped close to his side again.

  “No, it’s my friend, Willow.”

  “Where’s Jenna?”

  Clint sat on the edge of the bed, next to the frail form of his dad. Willow walked to the window. He wondered if the broken-down tractor was still in the field out there and if she was wondering why the farmer had left it that way.

  “Dad, Jenna’s in Iraq. Remember?”

  “Why’s the judge’s daughter with you?” His dad made a noise in his throat. “You know she’s out of your league.”

  Out of his league. He brushed off old insecurities.

  “She isn’t the judge’s daughter. Willow is Janie’s niece.”

  “The one that can’t hear? What’s she doing here?”

  “Dad, she can hear.” He shot Willow an apologetic look, but she was smiling, not at all upset.

  “I don’t care if she can. Get me some oatmeal that isn’t runny. They always bring me runny oatmeal.”

  “I’ll bring some oatmeal later.” He poured water instead. “Dad, I’m going to be gone a few days. We’re going to Austin.”

  “Eloping?”

  “No, we’re going to a bull ride.”

  “Does she have money? That aunt of hers has money.”

  “Now you’re embarrassing me. And I have my own money.”

  “Then maybe you ought to get me out of this roach motel.”

  Willow’s laughter was soft, and Clint’s dad looked at her. He smiled.

  “Dad, when I get home, I’ll take you to dinner. How does that sound? Maybe we could go to church together.”

  “You aren’t going to take me to church. I don’t have any use for religious people.”

  And that hurt. Clint couldn’t think about this part of his father’s life, the part without faith. He closed his eyes, repeating a prayer that he’d repeated numerous times over the years. He wanted his dad to have faith.

  “Dad, when I get back, we’ll go to church and then we’ll go to lunch. We’ll get a good steak.” Steak for church.

  “Fine, we’ll go to church if you’ll buy me steak. Don’t bring those boys or that old woman.”

  “We’ll all go together.” He leaned and kissed his dad’s thinning gray hair. “We’ll go together, Dad. I’ll see you next week.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Cameron.” Willow touched his father’s arm as she walked by his bed. “I’ll see you at church.”

  Clint waited at the door for her, and they walked out together. His dad yelled something about not wanting them to elope.

  “I’m sorry about that. I did try to warn you.”

  Willow laughed, soft and easy. “He’s something else.”

  “He’s always been something else. He was charming, funny, drunk and mean. The best of all worlds.”

  “It had to be hard on you, and on Jenna.”

  “It wasn’t easy, but we survived.” He pushed the
door open and held it for her. “As a teenager life was about faith and surviving, about believing that God really would deliver us from that situation. And as hard as it was, I loved him, and I still love him. He taught me to ride. He taught me to fish. He had his moments.”

  “Janie said you were a hard worker and everyone loved you.”

  He grinned, winking as he opened the truck door for her. “Yeah, everyone loved me.”

  Everyone really did love Clint. Willow watched him walk through the small grocery store in Grove, being greeted by older women and people closer to his own age. Willow walked along behind him, pushing the cart and tossing in items that weren’t really on her list. Clint paused at the end of the aisle, talking to a woman with a beehive hairdo and cotton dress. He motioned Willow forward.

  “Do you know Janie’s niece, Willow Michaels?” he asked the woman, who was giving Willow a look that clearly measured her against Clint and drew a lot of conclusions.

  “I don’t believe I’ve met her.” The woman smiled.

  “Willow, this is Addie Johns. She was my high-school math teacher.” He laughed an easy laugh. “And she somehow taught me calculus.”

  “It wasn’t easy.” Addie Johns shook her head. “The boy had horses and cows on the brain. And girls.”

  Clint flushed a light shade of red. “Now, Addie, you know that isn’t true.”

  The older woman laughed and patted his hand. “No, it wasn’t true, was it. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen you in love before.”

  Willow choked because Addie Johns meant only one thing by that statement. She was putting them together as a couple. And that couldn’t happen.

  “Oh, Miss Johns, we’re not…”

  “Ready to tell everyone.” Clint finished Willow’s objection and then reached for her hand. “We can trust you to keep it a secret, though.”

  “Oh, of course.” Addie Johns grabbed her cart. “Well, I should get my shopping done. You two have a wonderful day. And don’t forget to send me an invitation.”

  Willow waited until the lady disappeared before punching Clint on the arm. “Why did you do that?”

  “To see who would be more surprised, you or Addie. I think you win.”

  “She’ll tell everyone in town.”

  “More like the entire county.” He laughed. “I can hear it now. Phones ringing up and down the line, ladies at home, washing dishes and speculating on a wedding date, and if we’ll last, or…”

  “Stop.” Willow pushed the cart away from him, tossing a few packages of cookies in with a bag of Reese’s.

  “I was joking, Willow.”

  “I don’t want to be a joke.”

  He pulled the cart to a stop and stepped close to her side. Willow backed away, feeling the cold of the frozen-food coolers behind her. Clint leaned in, smiling, his gum cinnamon and his cologne a soft hint of pine.

  She glared, hoping to put him in his place.

  “Okay, it wasn’t a joke.”

  She looked away, even more confused. “Clint, stop.”

  “Make up your mind, Willow. Do I stop, or do we take a few steps forward to see how this works out?”

  Everyone loved Clint. Willow couldn’t let herself think those thoughts, or how it felt when he cared about her. He didn’t understand the difficulties a relationship with her would include.

  “Clint, I have so many things going on in my life right now.”

  “So do I.”

  “So, we don’t have time for this conversation. Not now. Not here.”

  “When do we have time?” He smiled at a lady pushing her cart past them, a baby in the seat.

  “Clint, I can’t have children.” Her voice broke as she whispered what he already knew, but he hadn’t realized that it meant something more.

  He was looking at the baby, waving, and Willow was looking at him. Her words registered, and he remembered last night, when he’d held her and it had felt like her heart was breaking, and that a breaking heart was familiar ground to her.

  “I know, Willow.”

  “I can’t have children. I can’t have a marriage with children.” She looked away, but not before he saw the broken look in her eyes.

  “You have something that does come with a relationship. Yourself. Willow, when a man falls in love with you, it is about loving you.”

  “What man doesn’t want a child with his name, his eyes, his pitching arm or whatever it is that’s important to men.”

  “You’re right, I guess, that’s something a man does think about. But…”

  She reached for the cart. “I can’t talk about this.”

  “You’re running from what we both know isn’t going to go away.” He walked next to her as she headed for the check-out with a cart full of junk food.

  Would his feelings for her go away? He wanted to fold her in his arms and hold her forever. He’d never felt that before, not once in his life. It had nothing to do with fixing her.

  “There are a lot of things that aren’t going away, Clint.”

  He didn’t have a clue what she meant by that, but she was piling groceries on the belt and talking to the cashier. He sighed, because he knew this wasn’t the time or place. What had started as a little teasing had gone way wrong.

  “Okay, we’ll play this your way, Willow. We’ll talk later.”

  She nodded, but he wasn’t sure if she heard. And he wondered if later would ever come around.

  Willow sat in her office, thinking about the previous day with Clint—visiting his father, and then the incident at the store. Heat crawled up her cheeks when she thought about Addie Johns calling friends to inform them that Clint had finally found a woman.

  Those women had probably been praying for years that Clint would find a nice girl, settle down and have a few kids. Willow finished her candy bar and tossed the wrapper in the trash can.

  Why hadn’t he found a nice girl and gotten married? She thought she’d ask him. Maybe it had to do with chasing his dreams of being a bull rider, and having family obligations.

  The phone rang, and she ignored it. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with calls or not being able to hear the caller. She buried her face in her hands and waited until the ringing stopped and the answering machine picked up. The words were fuzzy.

  Fuzzier than last week. Even fuzzier than a month ago. And she hadn’t returned the call to her doctor because she didn’t want to know the test results. Not yet. She didn’t want to tell Janie, who was busy making arrangements for a trip to Florida with her friends.

  She didn’t want to tell Clint, because it felt good to have him in her life, treating her like someone who could take care of herself.

  The door to her office opened, and Clint peeked in, smiling as he knocked on the side of the door frame. The boys jumped in ahead of him. They were wearing shorts, T-shirts and rubber boots.

  “What are you guys up to?”

  “Going fishing.” Timmy held up his fishing pool. “Wanna come with us?”

  David smiled, his fishing pole held tight in his fist. But he wasn’t asking her to go. This morning he had told her he really just wanted his mom’s hugs.

  “Where are you going fishing?” she asked, looking up to meet Clint’s questioning gaze.

  “The creek, down by the church.” He wore bright-red swim trunks and canvas sneakers. “Come on, be a sport.”

  “A sport?”

  “Yep, the opposite of ‘not a sport.’ As in, we really want you to come with us.”

  Timmy shook his head. “We think you have the best snacks.”

  “Oh, so you have ulterior motives for inviting me?”

  “To get you out of this dusty office.” Timmy did a deep-voiced imitation of Clint, and Willow laughed.

  “Okay, I’ll come along. And I’ll bring good snacks. We wouldn’t want Uncle Clint to burn the house down.”

  Clint ruffled Timmy’s hair. “Good job, buddy. Now you guys run down to the house and get that white cooler for drinks.”
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br />   Willow watched the boys leave and then she stood, walking around to the front of the desk. Clint was still watching the empty door.

  “You okay?” She touched his arm and he turned, his smile a halfway attempt.

  “I’m not great. I’m pretty sure I’m failing at this whole guardian thing. David is throwing fits, and Timmy is trying to take over as the ‘head of the house.’”

  “You’re doing fine, Clint. They’re just sad little guys right now, and you all have a lot of adjusting to do.”

  “I guess so, but I sure hope I don’t mess them up before she gets back.”

  “You won’t mess them up. I won’t let you.”

  He smiled, and then his expression softened. He touched her hair, and she shivered as his fingers slid down the strand, twirling it around and then letting it drop.

  When had she stopped telling him that they couldn’t do this, couldn’t cross the line? When had his presence in her life started to feel like a forever-dream again?

  When would the bottom drop out and leave her heart broken again?

  “Having you here was pretty good planning on God’s part.” He glanced at the door and stepped away from her.

  The boys rushed back into the room.

  “Ready to go?” Clint asked, like nothing had happened. And Willow decided that nothing had, not really.

  Except that Timmy was laughing, and David looked suspicious. Timmy spoke up. “Were you gonna kiss her, Uncle Clint?”

  “Now, Timmy, what gentleman asks a question like that?”

  “I just wanted to know.” The boy dragged his feet a little and looked up, kind of sheepish. Willow didn’t buy it because she saw the mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “Right.” Clint took the cooler. “Come on, let’s get good snacks and go fishing.”

  “I need to check on one of my bulls.” Willow grabbed her keys off the desk. “Can I meet you at the house?”

  “Do you want me to do something?”

  “No, I can do it.” She followed them out of the barn, and as they headed across the gravel road to the house, she walked down the side of the fence and climbed over at the padlocked gate.

  Dolly had been bullying a younger bull earlier in the day. She wanted to make sure the bigger animal hadn’t done any damage. First she had to find him. She saw Dolly. He was standing at the watering trough, looking innocent. The other bull wasn’t in sight.