Chapter Nine
Over the last two days, Toben had sent them pictures. Funny captions, he and his cousin Deacon making all sorts of silly faces, and some incredible scenery. When her phone went off, all three kids gathered to see what he’d sent next.
A picture of Deacon asleep in the driver’s seat read “Wishing I’d offered to drive.” Another of Toben and Deacon standing in front of the painted hills in West Texas said “Nature’s beauty at its finest. And the hills are nice, too.” The picture of Toben at the end of a lasso, being dragged in a cloud of dirt, read “Toben at work.” Followed by one of Deacon, sitting in the shade dozing. “Deacon at work.”
The last picture he’d sent was thirty minutes ago. A picture of Toben. His jaw was stubbled and his eyes were red rimmed with dark circles. He was leaning out the passenger window, taking a picture of himself with the Boone Refuge sign in the background.
“He’s back,” Otis said.
“He said he’d be back.” Rowdy jumped up, excited.
“Guess that means we’re going to dinner?” Dot asked, but her normal bored expression was missing. “What do we wear?”
Good question. What did you wear to meet the family of the man who had fathered your only child? And what sort of reception should she expect? If the roles were reversed... No, don’t go there. She chewed the inside of her lip. Secretly, she’d been hoping Toben’s trip would prevent this dinner from happening. She knew Rowdy was excited but she was terrified. These people weren’t her family. Chances were, they weren’t going to welcome her with open arms. They’d side with Toben—that was what family did. To them, she was the woman who’d hidden Rowdy from his father. Not the woman who’d done her best to raise her boy on her own—the woman who’d thought Toben wanted nothing to do with them.
“Be yourself, Dot. Always be yourself,” Poppy said.
“You should wear a dress, Ma,” Rowdy said.
“A dress?” Otis made a face. “Do you own a dress, Aunt Poppy?”
“She can’t wear a dress. She just said to be yourself. Aunt Poppy wears jeans. Every day. She can’t wear a dress.” Dot smiled at her. “Right?”
“Ma?” Rowdy made his face—the face Poppy never said no to. He rarely used it, so when he did, it was a powerful tool.
“I’m not sure I’ve unpacked them,” she lied, knowing the four dresses she owned were hanging in the back of her closet, behind her coats and coveralls.
The kids tore off down the hall to her room while she slumped in her chair. Could she get out of it? Was there some way she could send Rowdy alone? But he was just as nervous as she was, even if his nerves were based on excitement.
“Found one, Ma!” Rowdy called out.
She pushed out of her chair and walked, slowly, down the hall.
Dot was holding a light blue sundress. A pale pink floral knit dress, a Southwest-patterned shirtdress and an off-the-shoulder navy cotton dress were being spread across her bed by the boys.
“I like this one,” Dot said, offering her the sundress.
“Pink,” Rowdy said. “It’s your favorite color.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever worn that one,” she admitted, eyeing the far-too-feminine pink dress. What had her sister been thinking when she bought it? She wrinkled up her nose and shook her head.
“You look good in this one, Ma.” Rowdy picked up the navy dress. “You wore this the day I won my first mutton-busting buckle.” He pressed it into her hands. “It’s good luck, I know it.”
“And your sparkly boots.” Dot held them up. “I’ve never seen them before.”
Poppy smiled at Rowdy. “I wasn’t planning on dressing up, Rowdy.”
“You don’t have to wear those boots, Ma. Your plain ones are fine.” He took the boots from Dot and returned them to her closet. Apparently, he wasn’t going to give up the dress.
While they hurried off to get ready, Poppy stared at the dress. She didn’t want Toben thinking she was dressing for him. She wasn’t. If she had it her way, she’d wear jeans and a nice button-down. But she didn’t want to disappoint Rowdy. She wanted him to be proud of her. And if that meant she had to wear a stupid dress, she’d do it.
She showered, smoothed lotion onto her legs and slipped into the dress. It fell above her knees, revealing more skin than she was used to. She stepped into her boots and sighed. Maybe if her shoulders weren’t on display...or she were wearing jeans.
“Aunt Poppy, Toben’s here,” Otis called.
“I’ll let him in, Ma,” Rowdy called out.
She stared at her reflection, so nervous she couldn’t move. She ran her fingers through her hair, then smoothed the fabric of her dress. It seemed too...little, showing far too much Poppy in the process. She shifted from foot to foot, then turned from her mirror. She added her gold locket with Grandpa’s and Rowdy’s pictures inside on its long chain, some gold hoops and a touch of lip gloss and forced herself from the bedroom.
“Ready?” she asked, refusing to look up. If she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t see his smug smile. She wouldn’t regret making Rowdy happy—because this was for Rowdy. Not Toben. But the kitchen was quiet, absolutely quiet. And the longer the silence stretched, the harder it was to keep staring at the floor.
She risked a glance up. All eyes were on her.
“You look real nice, Ma.” There was pride in her son’s eyes. “Thanks for wearing the dress.”
“Aunt Poppy, you’re so pretty.” Dot was staring.
“I like you better in jeans,” Otis said. “I’m hungry. Can we go?”
She didn’t look at Toben.
“Yes,” she said. “Let’s go.”
The kids ran from the kitchen, leaving her alone—with Toben. She saw his polished boots and freshly pressed and starched jeans but kept her gaze averted.
“Not going to look at me?” he asked.
She blew out a deep breath. “Not yet.”
“I’ve got something for you,” he said. “Hold out your hand.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Please,” he added, amusement in his voice.
She held her hand out, tensing at his coarse touch. But then he pressed something against her palm... “Flowers?” She stared at the bouquet of yellow roses, surprised.
“I remember you liked them. Yellow roses, I mean.”
She stared at him then, too stunned to realize it was a bad idea.
“You look beautiful.” His voice dropped. “Damn beautiful.”
She swallowed, the heat and appreciation in his eyes making her feel beautiful.
“I’m glad Rowdy asked you to wear a dress.” He smiled. “Guess I should check on the kids.” He left her staring after him, confused and surprised and wishing the night were over. He was far too good-looking and sweet-talking. She’d ignored him before; she could do it again. Of course, then she’d given in and...giving in to Toben Boone had been one of the most amazing experiences of her life. She stiffened. One she would not be repeating.
She pulled an empty glass pitcher from the cabinet, filled it with water and put the roses inside. She stared at them, tracing one petal...thinking of the kiss she and Toben had shared. A kiss she’d thought about far too much the last couple of days. When she was working in the shop, arranging inventory or hanging pictures on the wall, Toben’s touch, his kiss, was there.
Which was silly. And she wasn’t a silly girl, not anymore. There was too much at stake with this man. Whatever superficial attraction the two of them had wouldn’t last. A bond between father and son should last forever. No way she’d risk that for Rowdy. Or Toben.
She left the kitchen, then pulled the front door closed behind her to find all the kids in the bed of Toben’s pickup, staring upward. He was pointing at something in the darkening sky, his voice deep and soft. Sh
e walked forward, listening.
“That’s the Big Dipper. Can you see it?” he asked. “We can check again when we come back after dinner. By then it’ll be dark enough to really see.”
“Did you know the stars change with the seasons?” Rowdy asked her.
“Sure,” she said. “Guess I never thought to mention it before.”
“It’s cool,” Dot said. “And that some of the stars have stories.”
“I’m still hungry,” Otis said.
Toben laughed. “Load up.” He helped each of them jump from the truck, then held the passenger door open for her.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“My pleasure,” he answered, his eyes sweeping over her before he closed the door.
“Ma,” Rowdy whispered, taking her hand over the seat back. “I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be, Rowdy,” she answered. “They’re going to love you.” Of course they’d love him. Rowdy was irresistible. She smiled broadly at him, setting aside her own unease.
Toben climbed into the truck and started the engine. She reached behind her and squeezed Rowdy’s hand, but he didn’t let go. Toben turned the truck around and headed down the drive, through the gate and onto the county road.
“Ma,” he whispered again. “You want to do this?”
She turned, looking over her shoulder. He looked...scared. Something her son rarely was. “If you’re not ready, this can wait. I know your dad will understand.” She looked at Toben, silently pleading for his understanding.
“Heck, yeah,” Toben said, his slight nod a comfort. “We’ll do this whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush.”
Poppy breathed easier, hoping Rowdy asked for more time.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting back against the seat. “Can...can we wait?”
“Yep.” Toben stopped the truck. “We’re all dressed up. What do you want to do?” He turned, draping his arm along the seat back.
Rowdy shrugged but didn’t say anything.
“You feeling okay?” She was worried. Fifteen minutes ago, he was ecstatic over tonight.
He nodded.
“I’m still hungry,” Otis groaned.
“Dinner?” Poppy asked, hoping Rowdy would perk up.
“I guess,” he murmured. “Not real hungry.”
“Why don’t you take Otis and Dot in for some chow and Rowdy and I will stay here and play some checkers or something? Since he’s not feeling too social,” Toben offered. “As long as you bring something back.”
Rowdy sat up then. “You’ll stay?”
Toben nodded, reaching out to pat Rowdy’s little knee. “That’s why I’m here, Rowdy. You.” He looked at her. “Okay with you?”
Poppy nodded, unable to completely dismiss Rowdy’s change of heart.
By the time she left Toben and Rowdy back in the house, they were already sizing up their checkerboard. She stood, watching them sprawled out across the living room floor, concentrating. When they both looked up, shooting her the same smile, the resemblance was almost painful.
“What’s up?” Rowdy asked.
“You’re okay?” she asked. “You two want anything in particular?”
“Food.” Toben shook his head. “But take your time.”
Poppy nodded, then went outside, reluctantly loading Otis and Dot into the truck and driving into town.
* * *
“YOU WON. AGAIN.” Toben laughed. He’d thrown the first game, but not the last three. Rowdy was sharp as a tack.
“Wanna play something different?” Rowdy asked, pulling the box of board games closer. “Mom and I play Parcheesi all the time, so I might beat you at that.”
Toben pulled the Parcheesi game out. “Challenge accepted.”
Rowdy laughed.
“You like board games, Cheeto, swimming and pie...” Toben lay on his side, resting on his elbow. “What else should I know?”
“I’m allergic to wasps. I hate asparagus. I like to hear my mom sing—she’s really good at everything...” He paused, tapping his pointer finger against his chin. “You can ask me what you want to know.”
Toben watched his son. He was his usual bouncy self, not a care in the world. But something had upset him earlier, and he didn’t need Poppy’s look to figure that out.
“Having a good summer?” he asked.
Rowdy made a silly face. “I met you. Course I am.”
Toben’s heart swelled. “What would make it better?”
“Dot and Otis leaving.” Rowdy’s smile faded.
Toben’s suspicion was confirmed. “Don’t get along?”
Rowdy shrugged, then shook his head. “I try, real hard. Ma’s patient. But they’re...not nice.”
“To you?” he asked, arranging the Parcheesi pieces casually.
Rowdy nodded, his eyes darting from the game board to Toben and back. “They...they’ve said some not so nice stuff about Ma, and you, and...stuff.”
Toben looked at his son. “You can tell me if you want. Sometimes having someone to talk to makes it feel less bad.”
“I don’t want you to get mad.” He sucked in his breath. “Or leave.”
Toben’s instinct was to react, but he didn’t want to stop Rowdy from talking. Even if his guts were churning. “You worry I’ll leave?”
Rowdy shook his head, then nodded. “I don’t want to.”
“But you do?”
“Dot said you didn’t want us. Her folks say Ma’s gonna always be alone and I’ll never have a real family.” Rowdy’s chin quivered. “And Otis said you might go back to not wanting us if...if your family doesn’t like me. Or Ma.” A big tear rolled down his cheek.
Toben’s heart broke at the sight of that tear. He could be mad later, but not right now. “I need to tell you something, Rowdy.” He cleared his throat, looking at his son.
Rowdy wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his brown eyes filling anew.
“I’m not leaving you. Ever. I’m your dad and I love you.” He smiled. “My uncle Teddy’s a good man. He has five kids and a bunch of grandkids—some born to him, some that came through marriage. And you know what? It doesn’t matter. That love is theirs. That family is theirs. And that family, my family, is yours. Because you’re my boy. I can tell you right now, they’re lucky to have you. I know I am.”
Rowdy smiled. “You are?”
It was Toben’s turn to make a disbelieving face. “I am. The day I saw your ma again I knew my life had changed for the better.”
“Ma’s like that,” Rowdy agreed.
Toben laughed. “She is.”
“We’re lucky to have her.” Rowdy picked up the dice in one hand. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
He shook his head. “No need, Rowdy. As long as I get time with you, I’m good.” But he wasn’t done. “I think maybe Dot and Otis are hurting inside, missing their folks. I guess they want other people to hurt, too. I’m not saying it’s right, but some people are wired that way.” His own mother was a perfect example.
Rowdy frowned. “I’m not.”
“I’m glad.” Another reason to thank Poppy. “Now you need to teach me how to play so I can win.”
Rowdy laughed, then scooched onto his stomach to explain the rules.
By the time Poppy arrived, Toben was starving.
“Food,” Poppy called from the kitchen.
Rowdy jumped up and ran into the other room.
“Hold up—it’s my turn.” Toben dropped the dice and followed him into the kitchen.
Poppy smiled as she set three places at the dinner table. Dot and Otis stood, shoulder to shoulder, looking downright pathetic. Toben tried not to grin. So he wasn’t the only one who’d figured out what happened tonight. From the looks of it, they’d al
ready received quite a talking-to.
“Dot and Otis have something they need to say to you, Rowdy,” Poppy said.
Rowdy looked at his cousins.
“We’re sorry,” Dot said. “For the things we said.”
“Yeah,” Otis echoed. “I shouldn’t have said your dad might leave.”
“It’s okay.” Rowdy sat at the table and unwrapped his burger without hesitation. “I forgive you.”
Poppy looked at him, her smile surprised.
Toben sat beside Rowdy and unwrapped his food, too.
“Good night, you two. And no games or they’re mine.” Poppy watched them walk down the hall. The guest room door shut with more force than necessary. “Aunt Rose will be here soon.” She squeezed Rowdy’s shoulder.
“She keep them in line?” Toben took a sip. “Milk shake? Good call.”
Poppy’s smile lit her up. “I thought we could all use a good drink.” She winked at Rowdy.
“You’re the best.” Rowdy took a long pull off his straw. “Dad and I agree on that.”
“Is that the milk shake talking?” Poppy asked.
Rowdy laughed. “No. We were saying that before you got home.”
“Oh, well, then I guess that’s nice.” She ruffled Rowdy’s curls and sat back in her chair with a sigh.
“Tired?” he asked.
She looked pointedly down the hall. “Very.” Her phone started to ring.
Toben watched her glance quickly at him, then back at the phone. He knew who it was but he didn’t know why it bothered him. If anything, his run-in with Mitchell had taught him to respect the other man. He clearly cared about Poppy and Rowdy and had for some time. Not that Toben liked it. Not one bit. He cleared his throat, trying to sound unaffected. “You going to answer that?”
“Mitchell?” Rowdy asked.
Toben took a long sip of his milk shake—wishing it was a beer.
“Mitchell calls when he’s on the road.” Rowdy scooped ketchup onto his fry. “He’s been all over, emceeing rodeos. They have rodeos in Scotland.”
Toben shook his head. “I didn’t know that. That sounds interesting.”
A Son for the Cowboy Page 10