Six Weeks to Catch a Cowboy

by Brenda Harlen

  He looked at Dani, who was wrapped around Kenzie’s legs again.

  “Please,” he said.

  “I have a better idea,” she said. “Why don’t me and Dani wait here while you go pick up some muffins?”

  Spencer knelt down next to his child. “Is that okay with you, Dani? Do you want to stay with Kenzie while I go get you a muffin?”

  She nodded.

  Of course, she did. Because anything was better than being with the big, scary man who claimed to be her daddy.

  Shaking off the frustration, he stood up again and unlocked the door of his apartment.

  “Do you want anything?” he asked Kenzie.

  “A vanilla latte would be appreciated.”

  Spencer vowed to open a tab to cover Kenzie’s vanilla lattes for a whole year—it was the least he could do.

  * * *

  When he got back to the apartment with the muffins and coffee—and milk for Dani, he found Kenzie and Dani sitting on the sofa, snuggled close together, looking at something on an iPad.

  Kenzie glanced over when he walked in and offered him a smile as she closed the cover on her device and set it aside.

  “She was even more tired than hungry,” she said quietly.

  That was when he realized the little girl was sleeping, with a blanket clutched in one fist and the thumb of her other hand resting against her bottom lip, as if she’d fallen asleep sucking on it. According to Linda, Dani had stopped sucking her thumb when she was two, but Wendy explained that it wasn’t unusual for kids’ behaviors to regress after a traumatic event and suggested that Spencer not make a big deal about it.

  Kenzie carefully eased herself away from the sleeping child, gently shifting her so that her head was cushioned on the arm of the sofa. Dani didn’t stir.

  He set the tray of drinks and muffins on the table and shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair.

  “Thanks.” Kenzie accepted the cup he offered and, after sitting down across from him, pried off the lid. “So when did you find out about the change of plans?”

  He glanced at his watch. “About three hours ago.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He shook his head. “I was planning a trip to the hardware store to get paint and painting supplies to do Dani’s room when Linda called to tell me that she wouldn’t be able to bring her to Haven next weekend as scheduled. And—” he stared at the murky dark liquid in his own cup “—I’m ashamed to admit that my first reaction was relief.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Kenzie said. “You haven’t really had much time to adjust to the realization that you’re a father—I can understand why you might be grateful for a reprieve.”

  “Well, I was,” he admitted. “Not that I expected having another week or two to prepare for her arrival would somehow transform me from completely clueless to father-of-the-year, but I figured it couldn’t make me any more clueless.”

  She smiled at that.

  “And then I remembered what you’d said—about the possibility that Linda might change her mind and decide to file for custody of Dani, and I panicked, imagining that I was going to lose the daughter I never even had a chance to know.”

  She reached across the table and touched a hand to his arm. “And that’s why I know you’re going to be a great dad.”

  “Right now, I’d be happy if the thought of staying here with me didn’t make Dani burst into tears,” he told her. “Anyway, before I could offer to make the trip to Denver next weekend to pick up Dani, she suggested that she bring her this weekend. As in today, because—by the way—they were already in Haven.”

  Kenzie’s brows lifted. “What if you’d said no? What if you hadn’t been here?”

  “I’m not sure she ever considered either of those possibilities,” he said. “And, half an hour later, she dropped Dani off along with one big suitcase, a few boxes and her car seat.

  “And Dani just stood there, looking bewildered, until Nana gave her a hug and said, ‘Be a good girl for Daddy,’ then got in her car again and drove away.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Kenzie said.

  “It took her a few minutes to understand that Nana had gone—and that she’d been left behind. And then...she was inconsolable.” It wasn’t until hot coffee spilled onto his hand that he realized he was squeezing the cup. He pulled his hands away and wiped them on his jeans. “I wanted to show her around, show her the room that was going to be hers, but she wrapped both hands around the doorknob, desperately trying to turn it, to make her escape so that she could ‘go home with Nana,’ as she repeated over and over while tears streamed down her face.”

  “I hope I never meet that woman,” Kenzie said, tears of empathy shimmering in her eyes.

  Spencer knew how she felt. When Dani’s heart-wrenching sobs had finally been reduced to shuddery hiccups and quiet whimpers and he was mopping up the remnants of her breakfast from the tiled floor, he’d felt like crying right along with her.

  He’d suggested a walk to the park instead. She hadn’t seemed thrilled about the idea, but she hadn’t resisted, either. And when they’d left the apartment, they’d run into Kenzie.

  “Did she offer any kind of explanation for dumping her granddaughter on your doorstep ahead of schedule?”

  “Oh, yes. It turns out the boyfriend has to go to Montpellier on business, and he invited her to go with him.”

  “All of this upheaval to a little girl’s life so that she could go to France?”

  “So it would seem,” he agreed.

  “I think I’m beginning to see why Emily didn’t choose her mother as Dani’s guardian.”

  “Oh, there’s more,” Spencer told her. “When I was on my way to The Daily Grind, Wendy called.”

  “The caseworker?”

  He nodded.

  “She had a meeting scheduled with Dani today, to prepare her for the upcoming move, and she didn’t want me to panic, but she thought I should know that Dani and Linda weren’t there.”

  “How did she react when you told her that Dani was here?” Kenzie prompted.

  “I’d say she was relieved that she hadn’t lost a child under her supervision, worried about Dani’s response to the transition and furious with Linda for taking it upon herself to change the plans.”

  “All of which will work in favor of your custody application,” Kenzie noted.

  He managed a smile. “You’re one of those people who always sees the glass as half-full, aren’t you?”

  “I try to be,” she admitted. “Although Dani and I did some poking around the apartment while you were out, and it seems that her bedroom is completely empty.”

  “I ordered a bedroom set for her,” he said. “Bed, dresser, night table—it’s all being delivered on Wednesday, which I figured would give me the time I needed to paint her room and have it ready for her arrival next weekend.”

  “So what’s your Plan B?” Kenzie asked him.

  Spencer shrugged, as if unconcerned, but the casual movement was at odds with the desperate helplessness in his eyes.

  And though she knew that Dani was his daughter and this was his situation to figure out, and the best thing—the smartest thing—that she could do was to back away, Kenzie couldn’t help but respond to that desperation.

  Or maybe it was the memory of how his little girl had clung to her, as if Kenzie was a buoy and she was being tossed around by a stormy sea, that compelled her to stick around. Regardless of the reason, she heard herself say, “I have an idea that I think might help Dani want to be here.”

  “I’m listening,” he assured her.

  “Let her help you turn the spare bedroom into her bedroom.”

  He looked at her blankly. “Huh?”

  “Take her to the hardware store, let her pick the color of paint she wants for the walls. You c
ould even let her help you paint.”

  “She’s not yet four,” he reminded her.

  “I’m not suggesting you hand her a roller and put her on top of a ladder,” Kenzie said dryly. “But I don’t think there’s any harm in giving her a brush and letting her paint the inside of the closet. Then, when she looks around the room, she’ll have pride of ownership in the space, because she helped make it hers.”

  He looked skeptical.

  “You could also let her pick out her own comforter and curtains.”

  “There are curtains on the window already,” he pointed out.

  “And I’m sure the geometric print coordinated nicely with everything else in Alyssa’s spare room,” she said. “But it doesn’t really work for a little girl’s room.”

  “I’ll have to defer to your expertise on that,” he said.

  “Were you ever in her room at Emily’s place?”

  He nodded.

  “What was it like?”

  He sipped his coffee, then shook his head. “I don’t...purple,” he suddenly remembered. “There was a lot of purple. Everywhere. The walls, the bed cover, even the fluffy rug was purple.

  “And there were colorful little horses on the shelf under her window.”

  “Pocket Ponies,” she told him.

  “What?”

  She smiled. “It was a Saturday morning cartoon when I was a kid. And, of course, a whole series of toys. I didn’t realize they were still around until Dani and I were looking at bedding on my iPad—before she fell asleep—and she pointed out a comforter that she liked and it had Pocket Ponies all over it.”

  “Was it purple?”

  “No. Well, the background was white, but some of the ponies have bodies or manes and tails in shades of purple,” she acknowledged. “And there were matching curtains available.”

  “Fine, if that’s what she wants, I’ll give you my credit card and—”

  “Mommy?” Dani’s plaintive call cut off his words.

  Glancing over, Kenzie saw that she was sitting up now, hugging her blanket to her chest, her sleepy eyes showing confusion.

  When there was no immediate response to her call, the little girl tried again. “Mommy?”

  Spencer winced, as if empathizing with his daughter’s pain, but his voice was cheerful when he said, “I’m here, Dani. And I’ve got the chocolate chip muffin you wanted.”

  “Want Mommy,” she said.

  “You and me both,” he muttered, his voice pitched low enough that only Kenzie could hear.

  “Does she know what happened to her mom?” she whispered back.

  He nodded. “But apparently preschoolers have trouble grasping the finality of death. I think she still thinks that Emily might walk through the door at any minute.”

  Then, in a brighter voice again, he said, “Did you have a good nap, Dani?”

  She didn’t reply to that.

  “Are you hungry?” Kenzie chimed in to ask.

  Dani waited a beat, then nodded.

  “Daddy got your chocolate chip muffin.”

  The little girl reached out her hand.

  Spencer started to get up, as if to deliver it to her, but Kenzie put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Do you really want muffin crumbs and chocolate all over your sofa?”

  “I really want her not to hate me,” he said.

  The dejected tone tugged at Kenzie’s heart, but she only said, “She doesn’t hate you—she just doesn’t know you.” And then she said to Dani, “Come on up to the table to have your snack.”

  Dani pulled her outstretched hand back to her blanket.

  Spencer looked at Kenzie.

  “If she’s really hungry, she’ll come to the table,” she said.

  The words were barely out of her mouth before the little girl was wiggling toward the edge of the sofa and stretching her feet toward the ground.

  Spencer nudged the nearest chair away from the table, a wordless invitation. She took a few tentative steps, then stopped. He opened the carton of milk and stuck the straw in it, then removed a muffin from the bag and set it beside the milk on the table.

  Her hunger finally overcame her reticence, because she climbed up onto the chair and immediately bit into the muffin.

  She took a few more bites, then a sip of her milk.

  “Is it good?” he asked.

  Dani nodded, then lifted her head to look at the man seated beside her. Her tentative gaze immediately shifted away again, but she ventured a cautious, “Thank you.”

  They were two little words, so quietly spoken they were almost inaudible, but Kenzie saw that they meant the world to Spencer.

  He cleared his throat. “So, other than chocolate chip muffins, what do you like to eat?”

  “Ice cweam?”

  “Well, who doesn’t love ice cream? But that’s more of a dessert—what you eat after you’ve eaten something else,” he pointed out to her.

  She nibbled on another bite of muffin. “S’ghetti?”

  “That’s good,” he said, nodding. “Because that’s actually something I know how to make. Anything else?”

  Her little brow furrowed as she sipped her milk. “Nuggets.”

  “How about pizza?” he asked.

  She responded to that with an immediate and enthusiastic nod.

  “Okay, I think I can work with those options,” Spencer decided.

  Dani pushed her muffin away, indicating that she’d had enough.

  Kenzie collected the empty coffee cups and remnants of Dani’s snack to toss them in the garbage. “Thanks for the latte, but I’m going to head out now—”

  “No,” Spencer interjected quickly, and maybe a little desperately. “Not yet. Please.”

  She felt herself wavering, because it felt good to be wanted. But whenever she’d dreamed of Spencer Channing wanting her—as she’d admittedly done in the past—it hadn’t been to act as a buffer between him and his child, and that was all he wanted from her now.

  “I have to do my grocery shopping—”

  “I need groceries, too,” he interrupted her again. “Why don’t we all go together?”

  “You were going to take Dani to the hardware store to pick out paint for her bedroom,” she reminded him.

  “We can do that, too.” And then, as if remembering her concern about being caught up in the inevitable gossip that would follow his appearance in town with his child, he said, “We could take a road trip to Battle Mountain and get everything we need there.”

  “I think Dani probably spent enough time in the car yesterday,” Kenzie pointed out.

  “Battle Mountain isn’t very far,” he noted, then turned to his daughter. “What do you say, Dani? Do you want Kenzie to come with us to pick out some stuff for your new room?”

  Kenzie narrowed her gaze to let him know she was aware of his deliberate manipulation of the question, but when Dani nodded her head, there was no way she could refuse the request.

  And truthfully, she didn’t want to.

  Chapter Seven

  Four hours later, Spencer was starting to think he might actually survive Day One of parenthood—but only because Kenzie hadn’t ventured too far from his side. She seemed to have instincts that he lacked, somehow anticipating Dani’s ever-changing moods and shifting her focus any time the little girl started to feel melancholy or sad.

  When they finally got back to Haven, his truck was filled with paint, painting supplies, bedding and curtains, a half dozen bags of groceries and another two bags of what Kenzie insisted were “essentials.” Because apparently Dani needed kid-friendly shampoo and body wash and toothpaste, and he didn’t know if any of that stuff was in the boxes Linda had dropped off.

  Obviously he was going to have to make more than one trip back to the truck to unload. For now, he grabbed as many
grocery bags as he could carry. Kenzie took the paint in one hand and Dani’s hand in the other.

  It was only when they got to the door that he realized he’d tucked his keys in his pocket, as he was in the habit of doing, but he didn’t have a free hand to retrieve them.

  “Do you need help with something?” Kenzie asked, as he ineffectually juggled bags.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Can you reach into my right front pocket and grab my keys?”

  She set the paint can on the ground and her hand moved toward his pocket, then her gaze narrowed suspiciously and she drew her arm back to take a couple of grocery bags instead. “Reach into your own pocket.”

  “Spoilsport,” he grumbled good-naturedly, as he used his now-free hand to retrieve the keys and unlock the door.

  She nudged Dani inside; he picked up the paint and followed.

  “We’ll start putting the groceries away while you get the rest of the stuff,” she suggested. “Okay, Dani?”

  The little girl nodded and happily followed Kenzie into the kitchen.

  When he brought in the last load from the truck, they were discussing dinner options. He heard Kenzie suggest spaghetti and Dani counter with a request for “p’za.”

  “What’s your vote?” Kenzie asked him.

  “Gotta side with my girl,” he said, winking at Dani. “And vote for pizza.”

  “Fine,” Kenzie relented. “Then you can go pick it up.”

  “Are you going to stay and eat with us?” he asked hopefully.

  “I’m definitely staying for pizza,” Kenzie said. “Because I was so focused on your shopping at the grocery store that I forgot to do my own.”

  He couldn’t resist teasing, “You probably have some soup at home.”

  “Probably,” she agreed. “But soup isn’t really much of a meal.”

  He grinned at that. “So what do you like on your pizza?”

  “Anything except A and Z,” she said.

  “A and Z?” he queried.

  “Anchovies and zucchini.”

  “I don’t have a problem skipping both of those,” he assured Kenzie. Then he turned to his daughter, “What do you like, Dani?”