Six Weeks to Catch a Cowboy

by Brenda Harlen

  Kenzie felt a smile tug at her lips. “If only your high school buddies could see you now.”

  “Are you thinking about any one of my high school buddies in particular?”

  “What?” She sounded baffled by the question, then her gaze narrowed. “Someone told you about me and Gage.”

  “Was there something to tell?” he asked innocently.

  “Not even a little bit,” she assured him.

  Which admittedly made him feel a lot better than it probably should.

  “Okay,” he said, turning his attention to his daughter now. “What do you need?”

  She thought about it for a minute. “Ice cweam?”

  He chuckled. “Let’s take care of your wardrobe first and then we’ll see.”

  Kenzie pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt off the rack. It was a soft pink color with a silhouette of a ballerina on the front and a ruffle at the hem.

  “That’s cute,” Spencer said. Then, to Dani, “What do you think? Do you like it?”

  She nodded.

  But Kenzie shook her head and put it back on the rack. “She’ll wear it once then decide the tulle is scratchy.”

  He retrieved the hanger to test the ruffle.

  “Pwetty,” Dani said.

  So Spencer put it in the basket.

  “I thought you wanted my help,” Kenzie reminded him.

  “You are helping,” he assured her.

  She gestured to the rack, inviting him to take the lead. He selected a bright blue microfleece top with delicate snowflakes embroidered on it.

  Dani nodded again, and the shirt went into the basket.

  Then there was a purple one with a unicorn, and an orange one with fuchsia and lime flowers, and a dark pink one with a sparkly rainbow.

  Kenzie stood back as he randomly selected an item, looked to Dani for her approval, then dropped it into the basket or returned it to the bar. The little girl seemed to enjoy the game, occasionally shaking her head rather than nodding, as if to keep him guessing. When they finished the rack of tops, they went through the same routine with bottoms until Kenzie finally put a hand on Spencer’s arm and gently but firmly told him, “Stop.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “How many shirts do you think she needs?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “Not sixteen,” she assured him.

  He scoffed at that. “I didn’t put sixteen in the cart.”

  “Do you want me to count them?”

  He looked at the pile of clothes and silently acknowledged that her guess might not be too far off the actual number.

  “She also doesn’t need leggings in every color of the rainbow,” Kenzie told him.

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’ll outgrow them before she has a chance to wear them all.”

  “Then I’ll buy her new ones again,” he decided.

  “I have no doubt that you would,” she said. “But I think you need to look at what you’re really doing here.”

  “Buying the new clothes my daughter needs.”

  “Or trying to compensate for the fact that you missed most of the first four years of your daughter’s life,” she suggested gently.

  “That wasn’t my choice,” he reminded her.

  “I know,” she acknowledged. “But you still feel guilty, don’t you?”

  He straightened the bow tied around one of Dani’s lopsided pigtails. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Probably,” she admitted. “But buying out the store isn’t going to alleviate the guilt—it’s just going to cut into her college fund.”

  Then she lifted the pile of shirts from the cart and laid them out, so that Dani could see them all side-by-side. And damn, she was right—there were sixteen.

  But aside from a pointed look over her shoulder, Kenzie didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she said to Dani, “You get to pick five.” And she held up her hand, counting on her fingers and thumb from one to five for the little girl. “Which ones do you like best?”

  Dani pointed to the purple T-shirt with the unicorn.

  “That’s one,” Kenzie said, and held up one finger.

  Next Dani chose the dark pink shirt with the sparkly rainbow. And so it went until she’d chosen her top five. After the T-shirts, she selected two hoodies, three pairs of leggings and two pairs of jeans. Kenzie added socks and underwear, and then they moved to the footwear department where Dani picked out new running shoes. She was walking up and down the aisle, testing the comfort and fit, when she spotted a pair of pink cowboy boots on display.

  “Look! Just like Daddy’s.”

  He was so stunned to hear the word “Daddy” come out of her mouth that it took a minute for the rest of her comment to register.

  When it finally did, he looked at the battered brown boots on his own feet, then at the pink ones that had caught her attention. He didn’t think they were similar at all, but she seemed excited by the idea of having boots like Daddy, and that made him feel pretty good, so he bought those for her, too.

  And then, because of course Dani hadn’t forgotten his promise, they went for ice cream—wearing their “matching” cowboy boots.

  * * *

  Spencer hadn’t planned to have kids.

  Not that he’d consciously decided to never be a father—he just hadn’t given the matter much thought. The truth was, he’d wasted no time contemplating the subjects of marriage and children because he’d been having too much fun living in the moment.

  At twenty-five years of age, he was still a kid himself in many ways. And if anyone had asked, he would have insisted that he wasn’t ready to take on the responsibility of a child.

  Thankfully, no one had asked.

  Instead, he’d been given the gift of this beautiful daughter. And then he’d panicked, because he knew he wasn’t equipped with the necessary know-how to be a parent.

  Certainly his own parents hadn’t been ideal role models. Ben and Margaret Channing had ensured their children didn’t want for anything, but they weren’t overly affectionate—or even involved—with their offspring. Instead, it had been Celeste who offered warm beverages when he came in after school or applied cool compresses to heated skin when he was home with a fever. It had been Celeste who bandaged his scrapes, monitored his homework, cautioned him about the dangers of alcohol—and then picked him up when he’d proven that he wasn’t smart enough to heed her advice but was at least smart enough not to drink and drive.

  And it had been Celeste again who watched from the audience when Spencer graduated from high school because his parents were in Europe celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Not that he could complain, because they’d given him their gift—a brand-new truck—before they left.

  He’d never been particularly bothered by their absence—not so much that he would admit, anyway. But now that he had a child of his own, he wondered if they ever regretted—or even thought about—all the events and milestones they’d missed. Every day with Dani, he was painfully aware that he’d come into the fatherhood game late. So much had happened in her life before he even knew of her existence, and he bitterly resented missing so many key moments: her first smile, her first steps, her first birthday.

  He wanted to be mad at Emily—and he was. Then he felt guilty for being mad, because she was going to miss out on so much more. And his heart ached for his little girl, who would live the rest of her life without her mother.

  Thankfully, she had a lot of other women in her life who would be role models for her, including Kenzie. His sister’s best friend was already important to his daughter—and to him.

  He knew Kenzie was bothered by Linda’s willingness to relinquish care of her granddaughter, but Spencer was grateful that Emily’s mom had acceded to her daughter’s wishes to award him guardianship. Becaus
e he knew that if Linda had applied to the court for custody, he would not have opposed her. Certainly not two months earlier, when the idea of being a father had scared him a lot more than going nose to nose with the meanest, maddest bulls on the circuit. In fact, he would have been relieved, grateful. Because of course Linda was more suited to care for Dani than a man who’d never even met the child.

  But now, after only three weeks, he had no more doubts that Dani was where she belonged—with her daddy.

  And yet, he couldn’t seem to forget the conversation he’d had with his friends at Jo’s. Once the seed had been planted, the idea began to grow—like a toxic weed, its roots digging into his mind and wrapping around his heart:

  What if he wasn’t her father?

  What if the DNA test came back negative?

  As he tried to banish those questions from his mind, he regretted ever having the test done. But Brett’s speculation had spurred him to impulsive action—not because he believed Emily had lied but because he didn’t know for certain that she was certain. And if he wasn’t Dani’s father, then her real father was out there somewhere, missing out on everything it meant to be a dad to the little girl.

  But now, if the results of the test were negative, he didn’t know what he’d do. The only thing he knew for certain was that he couldn’t imagine ever giving her up.

  Chapter Ten

  “Moving can be a stressful experience for anyone, but I think your decision to bring Dani to Haven was a wise one,” Wendy said, as she scribbled some notes on her tablet. “A support network is invaluable to any new parent as they attempt to find some kind of rhythm in their new role. And although Dani’s not a baby, the father-daughter relationship is new to both of you.”

  “I think we’re making some good progress,” Spencer said, anxious to ensure she didn’t assume otherwise.

  “I can see that,” Wendy agreed. “After only three weeks, Dani seems very comfortable with you and in her new home. By the way—love the handprints on her closet doors.”

  “Me, too. In fact, I’ve already decided that I’m going to have to take those doors when we move.”

  The caseworker glanced up. “Are you planning to move already?”

  “Not anytime in the near future,” he hastened to assure her. “But eventually it would be nice to have a real place of our own.”

  She made some more notes. “It would be helpful if you were honest with me instead of giving me the answers you think I want to hear.”

  “I honestly want what’s best for my daughter.”

  “That’s what we all want,” Wendy said, scrolling back in her notes. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “It’s good.” He rolled the joint to demonstrate, ignoring the slight twinge of discomfort.

  “Any thoughts on your career plans?”

  “Lots of thoughts, no decisions.” He still had his eye on Vegas in December, hoping to end his career with a bang rather than a whimper, but he kept that information to himself for now.

  “Okay.” Wendy closed the cover of her tablet. “I think that covers everything for today, except to tell you that this is likely my first and last visit here.”

  “You’re not coming back?”

  “Sending a caseworker eight hundred miles away from her office isn’t the best use of company resources,” she told him.

  “So this is finished?” he asked hopefully.

  “Not just yet,” she cautioned, with a smile and a shake of her head. “I’ve got a friend who works for Elko Family Services. I’ll send her a copy of my preliminary report and she’ll do the follow-up visits. But at this point, I don’t anticipate any difficulties getting your custody application approved by the court.”

  She stood up then and offered her hand. “Good luck, Mr. Channing.”

  After Wendy had gone, Spencer immediately picked up the phone and dialed Kenzie’s number. Because he agreed with the caseworker about the importance of a support network, and over the past three weeks, Kenzie had proven to be a major part of his.

  Maybe they hadn’t been friends in the past, but they were friends now. And, unless he was completely wrong about the chemistry between them, there was the potential for them to be a lot more. But he was keeping a tight lid on his growing attraction, because Dani really liked Kenzie, too, and he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that connection.

  He didn’t have a lot of experience with relationships. One-night stands and weekend encounters, sure, but his life as a rodeo cowboy hadn’t lent itself to anything more. And that was okay, because he hadn’t wanted anything more. Until Kenzie had given him a glimpse of the benefits and pleasures he would enjoy sharing his life with someone. With her.

  Just the sound of her voice made him smile, and after summarizing the meeting with the caseworker, he got around to the other reason for his call.

  “I need a favor,” he told her. “Jay wants me to go to Battle Mountain with him and Carter and Kevin tomorrow afternoon to be fitted for our tuxes for the wedding.”

  “And you don’t want to drag Dani along with you?” she guessed.

  “I’m happy to drag her, but I don’t think she’d be happy to be dragged.”

  “What time were you planning to head out?” Kenzie asked.

  “Two o’clock.”

  “Sure, I can hang out with Dani for a few hours,” she agreed. “But I have to be home by six.”

  “Curfew?” he teased.

  “No.” She hesitated, as if reluctant to say more, then finally admitted, “I’ve got a date.”

  “A date.” His brows drew together. “Are you serious?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Of course, it wasn’t. He just didn’t want to think of Kenzie dating—unless it was him. And since they weren’t going there, he didn’t want her going there with anyone else.

  “With who?” he demanded to know.

  “How is that any of your business?”

  “It’s probably not, but—”

  “Probably not?” she echoed.

  “Okay, it’s not,” he relented. “I just didn’t think, after the way you kissed me a few weeks back, that you were dating anyone else.”

  “It was one kiss—”

  “Two,” he interjected.

  “And the only way I could be dating ‘anyone else’ would be if we were dating, and we’re not,” she pointed out.

  “So who is this guy you are dating?”

  “You’re not my big brother, so don’t start acting like you are.”

  “I’d say it’s lucky for both of us that I’m not,” he noted.

  “I’ll see you at two o’clock tomorrow,” she said.

  After she’d disconnected the call, Spencer sat staring at the phone for a long minute, an uneasy feeling churning in his gut.

  * * *

  It never occurred to Kenzie to say “no” when Spencer asked for a favor—especially if that favor involved his daughter. She absolutely adored the little girl and loved spending time with her. As Dani began to emerge from her shell, she showed glimpses of sass and spirit that Kenzie couldn’t help but admire. And as the bond between father and daughter, tentative and fragile at first, grew surer and stronger, Kenzie was overjoyed for both of them—and perhaps just the tiniest bit envious.

  She knew there were a lot of kids who grew up in single-parent homes, and she was grateful to her mother for everything she’d done to give her a good life. For as long as Kenzie could remember, Cheryl had worked as a housekeeper at Dusty Boots Motel. There weren’t a lot of jobs available to a woman with only a high school diploma and, as she’d explained to her daughter, she had to do something to pay the bills and put food on the table.

  She called it “hard but honest work” and prided herself on being capable and reliable. Her work ethic was rewarded by her employer, who al
lowed Cheryl to rearrange her work schedule whenever necessary to ensure that she was able to attend school meetings, chaperone class trips or participate in other events with Kenzie—to be both a mother and a father to her daughter as much as possible.

  And sometimes, when there was a day off school, Cheryl would implement a take-your-child-to-work day, sharing her tip money if Kenzie didn’t grumble too much about helping to empty wastebaskets and strip beds at the motel. In fact, Kenzie remembered one time when she was eleven years old and had been diligently saving her every penny for...her mind blanked, forcing her to acknowledge that whatever it was her tween self had been absolutely certain she couldn’t live without was, twelve years later, completely insignificant. What she did remember was that she’d worked really hard that weekend, and Cheryl had rewarded her efforts by giving her all of the tips they’d earned.

  But while Kenzie was undeniably grateful to her mother for everything she’d done for her, the absence of a father was still a huge void—like one of those character-shaped holes that resulted when someone ran through a wall in a cartoon—that nothing else seemed to fill. Or maybe it was Cheryl’s adamant refusal to talk about the man who’d fathered her child that ensured the emptiness remained. It wasn’t just that Kenzie didn’t know her dad—she knew nothing about him. It was as though he’d never really existed.

  So she was glad for Dani that Spencer had stepped up to at least try to fill the hole created by the loss of her mother. And happier still that he didn’t shy away from talking to Dani about Emily. Although, as he’d confided to Kenzie, he hadn’t known Emily particularly well or for very long, he was happy to share what he knew to answer his daughter’s questions.

  The little girl was napping when Kenzie arrived at Spencer’s apartment Saturday afternoon, having crashed—he informed her—about half an hour earlier. But he tiptoed into her room to check on her before he left and bent down to brush a soft kiss to her cheek. It was an easy and natural gesture, as if he’d already done the same thing a thousand times, and Kenzie thought the complete lack of self-consciousness said a lot about the genuineness of his affection for the daughter he’d only known a short while.