The Cowboy's Little Surprise

by Barbara White Daille

  “So...” she said. “Last night, you were just taking on the playboy role again.”

  He turned to face her. “No,” he said, measuring his words, “I was not.”

  Eyes narrowed, she tilted her head to look at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m just trying to figure things out, since I don’t think you and I are on the same page as we were last night. Or even in the same book.”

  “We’re not in a story at all. This is real life, and I’m trying to do the right thing and act like a responsible adult.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Look, I meant what I said at the campsite. I was a real jackass to treat you the way I did in school, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “And...what happened last night... Was I supposed to take that as the rest of your apology?”

  He swallowed a groan. That kiss.

  Granted, she had started it, but he’d taken over from there. He hadn’t expected the kiss to turn so hot so quickly. Or for their brief time together to have as much impact as it had—on them both.

  “Not an apology,” he said. “I didn’t intend for any of that to happen. Things got out of hand. It was just a few kisses. Damned fine kisses, but that’s all. I didn’t mean for you to take it as anything more.”

  He should have known she would, though. He should have been prepared for her to react exactly the way she had this morning.

  Hell, he’d have done best to recall the warning he’d given himself about getting too close.

  “Tina.” He shook his head and tossed the comb onto the dresser. “As nice as last night was, there’s no sense in either of us looking for a repeat. I told you, I’m a rolling stone. And you’ve always been a stay-in-one place, forever kinda girl.”

  “A forever I always envisioned with you.”

  He froze. She said nothing else. After a while, he shook his head. “There’s nothing I can say to that. I’m not the kind of man to make empty promises. Or any promises at all.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tina handed Robbie a paper place mat and a small box of crayons, courtesy of SugarPie’s.

  Instead of Cole’s company on the ride to the airport, she’d had her son along. And Jed, who had decided at the last minute that he wanted to see his family off.

  Though she loved having both of them with her, she regretted the trip hadn’t gone the way she had originally hoped it would. Neither had her conversation with Cole this morning. The thought of it made her cheeks flush with heat. From between the salt-and-pepper shakers and the sugar dispenser, she plucked a small hand-printed menu she already knew by heart.

  “I can have muffins?” Robbie asked. “Grandpa, you promised.”

  At her son’s words, Tina raised the menu higher and blinked hard a couple of times.

  I’m not the kind of man to make empty promises. Or any promises at all.

  She had to give Cole credit for owning up to that.

  And he was right about her. She was a forever kind of girl. A happy, stay-at-home accountant. Not the woman she had tried to be last night.

  “Of course, you can have muffins,” Jed said. “That’s why we came to SugarPie’s.”

  Tina nodded, glad to hear the lightness in his tone.

  He had sat quietly in the van on the way back to town, his expression glum. Now perched in a pink-cushioned chair in the sandwich shop, he looked much more energetic. That made sense. It had been his idea to stop here on the way back from the airport—a request enthusiastically seconded by Robbie, who loved Sugar’s mini-chocolate-chip muffins.

  A waitress in a pink uniform and white apron approached their table. Cole’s sister. They resembled each other, though his blue eyes didn’t have dark circles under them the way hers did.

  The thought made her recall what Jane had said about the likeness between Cole and Robbie. Layne could never have seen the similarities, or she would have said something.

  “Good morning.” Layne looked at Jed. “You’re here early.”

  Tina glanced at her watch and frowned. It was nearly ten thirty, a late brunch by Cowboy Creek standards. Even on the weekends, when folks didn’t have to accommodate those with day jobs, all new gossip was shared by eight forty-five.

  Across from her at the table, Robbie looked up. Grinning widely, he grabbed his place mat and waved it in the air. “Hey, we’re over here!”

  She turned to see Scott rushing toward them. Cole stood in the bakery doorway. His too-carefully-blank expression as he stared at their table said he hadn’t expected to see them.

  Robbie handed Scott a couple of his crayons. “I keep secrets good, right, Grandpa?”

  “You sure do, fella.”

  Jed shot her a look so quick she almost missed it under her pretense of studying the menu. He turned to Layne. “I wasn’t sure how bad traffic would be on the way back to town. We made good time with Tina driving.”

  “We went fast,” Robbie said. “Like my car. Vroom-vroom.”

  Both boys scooted their crayons across the tabletop.

  Layne laughed. “You’re some driver, Robbie.”

  She watched him for only a moment, but long enough for Tina to wonder what Cole might have said to her. At some point, she and Layne would have to talk, too.

  “Well,” Layne added. “I’ll give you all a few minutes to decide on breakfast.” She walked over to Cole.

  Recalling what Robbie had said, Tina leaned across the table and hissed, “‘Secrets,’ Grandpa?”

  “Breakfast at SugarPie’s,” he said with a grin as wide as her son’s had been.

  Sugar carried over an extra chair and set it beside Tina. “Here you are, folks. Jed, good seeing you this morning.” The grins must have been contagious, because the two of them smiled widely at each other.

  As they chatted, Tina watched the boys and held back a sigh.

  This morning, the thought of a ride to the airport with Cole had sounded wonderful—but that was before their conversation in his room. Now all she wanted was to keep her distance from him.

  Unfortunately, he had just taken the chair beside hers.

  “Morning,” he said, as if it were the first time they had seen each other that day.

  He wore a pair of form-fitting jeans and the same shirt she had watched him change into while she had sat on his bed. The fabric looked crisp, smelled fresh and didn’t do a thing to take her mind off what lay beneath it.

  When he had opened his door, her first sight of him had left her tongue-tied.

  She’d had enough trouble trying to focus on their conversation as he walked around the room. His shirt hung open, giving her tantalizing peeks at the same broad chest and taut abs she had braced her hands against last night.

  Then, there had been that towel wrapped around his hips. Granted, it was a nice, big, thick hotel towel... But she hadn’t needed the added worry of wondering if it would fall free. Or the concern over what she would do if it did.

  “See anything you like?” he asked.

  Startled at being caught ogling him again—right in the middle of SugarPie’s—she looked up at him. Was that a glimmer of amusement in his eyes?

  But he simply pointed to the menu in her hands. He was helping her save face. Doing the right thing. Being a responsible adult.

  And giving her a subtle reminder of his warning. There would be no repeat of last night.

  * * *

  COLE TOYED WITH breakfast or brunch or whatever Jed would call it. Later on, he’d have a bone to pick with the old man over this. When Jed had mentioned meeting up at SugarPie’s, he hadn’t said a word about inviting Tina along.

  Pushing aside the last bite of his strawberry pancake, he reached for his coffee mug and tried not to think of Tina, seated beside him. That was an almost impossible challenge. She’d tied her hair up again in her prim and proper braid, but all he could envision was the long strands hanging loose around her shoulders.

  He tried not to look at her, either, but found that completely impos
sible. His eyes went to the soft mouth he’d had beneath his last night. A drop of maple syrup dotted her lower lip. He’d give next month’s pay for the chance to lick it off.

  As if she knew what he’d been thinking, she grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her mouth.

  He shifted in his seat, searching for a distraction, and saw the bill Layne had propped against the napkin holder. He reached for it, but Jed snagged it first. For an old man, he had danged good reflexes.

  “My treat,” Jed told him, tucking the bill beside his plate.

  He didn’t like the idea but knew he couldn’t argue with the man in public. He nodded his thanks and picked up his coffee mug instead. Soon, he might be able to pay his debt back to Jed in full.

  At Layne’s this morning, he had spent most of his time with his eyes on Scott and one ear glued to the phone. He’d had takers for his idea of investing in the Hitching Post. In a conference call, they had firmed up enough details for him to present their offer to Jed.

  The old man rose and pulled his wallet from his hip pocket. “Are you heading back to the ranch, Cole? With the girls gone and our guests checked out, we’re gonna need some extra voices to break up the quiet.”

  Beside him, Tina seemed to sit frozen in place, as if she didn’t want to miss his response. Or didn’t want to hear it.

  “Not right away,” he said. “I’m hanging around town for a while. Layne’s working till noon, then we’ve got some things to take care of over at the apartment.”

  Jed nodded. “Well, you know your room will be waiting.”

  His room.

  He thought about what it would be like to have a permanent place at the Hitching Post. A room he shared with Tina.

  Jed headed toward the cash register.

  Tina took her purse from where she’d left it hanging from her chair. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be fine with the kids.”

  Not sure he could trust his voice, he nodded, avoided looking at her and tried to chase away the visions Jed’s words had triggered in his mind.

  She rose from her seat.

  Across from him, both boys sat working with their crayons. He leaned forward to inspect the place mats. Scott had drawn a picture of what looked like a cat with green fur and orange eyes. “Nice job,” he said. He looked at Robbie’s picture. “That one’s good, too.”

  “You know what I drawed?”

  Tina paused beside him.

  Robbie might have been a year older than Scott, but he didn’t have much more skill at artwork. Cole couldn’t make heads or tails of the bright blotches Robbie had run into each other on the page. But from the way the kid looked at him with his eyes squinted and his forehead wrinkled, Cole could tell a lot was riding on this answer.

  “Well,” he said, buying time, “I know I’ve seen one of these before. Maybe even a couple.”

  Robbie continued to frown.

  Silence stretched on.

  He imagined a future of searching for and never finding the right answers for his son. Or worse, of saying things he never should say, the way his father had done.

  Beside him, Tina moved, breaking him free from his trance.

  She leaned forward to look down at the picture. “Oh, good eye, Cole.” Smiling, she stared steadily at him. “You remembered these, and you’d only seen them for a minute last night.”

  “Yeah,” he said, almost sighing in relief. She was going to help him out.

  Then she walked away.

  Robbie’s stare remained as unwavering as Tina’s had been.

  Cole racked his brain, trying to recall what he had seen when he was with her that had been as colorful as the boy’s scrawled picture.

  Not her dark hair or her dark eyes or the plain blue shirt she had worn. Not any of the food they’d eaten at the campfire or even the fire itself. Definitely not the white afghan tossed on the arm of the couch in the attic. Not the covers of her books, spine-out on the shelves.

  Then he had it.

  He tilted his head and nodded, copying the movement Tina had made that morning when she claimed she was figuring things out. “Of course I know what this is. It’s a butterfly.”

  Robbie grinned. “Yeah!” He held up his hand for a high five. “I knowed you would guess it. Daddies are smart.”

  Cole’s heart skipped too many beats.

  A new silence settled around them. This one went on forever. Or maybe it just seemed that way because he’d felt everything close in.

  “‘Daddies?’” he asked finally, his voice a croak.

  “Yeah.”

  He waited.

  Evidently feeling he had given a sufficient answer, Robbie reached for a crayon. Beside him, Scott had moved on to a drawing of a purple turtle—maybe—with yellow stripes.

  Cole set his mug very gently on the table. “Did your mama...?” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Why did you say ‘daddies?’ Did your mama tell you to call me that?”

  “Huh-uh.” Robbie shook his head.

  “How about your grandpa?”

  “Nope. I just make it pretend.”

  “Oh.” He paused, then asked, “Why did you do that?”

  Robbie shrugged. “Rachel has a daddy and Scott has two daddies...sometimes.” He paused and looked up at Cole. “I don’t have a daddy. So I have to make it pretend.”

  Cole nodded. Amazing logic, especially coming from a four-year-old.

  But then, Robbie was Tina’s child, too.

  * * *

  THE AFTERNOON HAD almost slipped away by the time Tina returned from her ride and dismounted at the barn.

  She thought again of the invitation she had extended to Cole earlier that morning. If he had accepted, the two of them could have been relaxing at a restaurant tonight. Instead, things had turned out much differently from what she had hoped. And she would have to face him in the dining room of the Hitching Post without Jane and Andi there to run interference.

  When Pete came from the barn, she reluctantly turned the reins over to him. “I could take care of grooming Starlight.”

  He shook his head. “You’d better get over to the main house. With your cousins gone, Jed’s been dragging his heels between here and there all afternoon, carving a rut in the ground. Looking for you, I expect.”

  Or for Cole.

  But he had said he was spending most of the day in town.

  “Jed misses Andi and Jane and the kids already,” she said, knowing how he must feel. A few days ago, he had missed them when they hadn’t even left yet. The way she would now miss Cole, whether he was here on the ranch or not. Whatever bond they might have forged between them last night was broken. “I think my abuelo might need a little extra attention.”

  “He’s not the only one,” Pete said. “Rachel’s not herself today, either.”

  “She misses Trey?”

  “I don’t know.” He frowned. “Usually, I can’t get her to quiet down, but right now, she’s not saying a word.”

  “I’ll make sure she and Robbie have some playtime tomorrow.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  Turning away, she looked at her watch. It was early for dinner, but she would go home and freshen up in case Abuela and Maria needed help.

  She hadn’t made it halfway to the hotel before she saw Cole’s pickup truck coast around the corner. It was early for him to be back, too.

  He must have seen her, because the instant he climbed from the truck, he headed her way. “Got a minute?” he called.

  She nodded and went over to the benches outside the corral to wait for him.

  When he walked up to her, she said, “You’re back early.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you’re here for dinner?” It would be an intimate group at their table. At least Cole could focus his attention on Robbie again.

  This morning at SugarPie’s, she had deliberately left him at the table with the boys to give him more time to spend directly with their son. That’s wha
t he had wanted all along.

  But he shook his head. “We grabbed something to eat at the apartment. I’m glad I caught you out here. I wanted to talk. Alone.”

  She waited. His unemotional tone didn’t necessarily mean this would be an awkward conversation. And what if it did? According to Ally, she was the queen of seriousness. She enjoyed discussing weighty topics...when they didn’t involve her heart.

  He shoved his Stetson back from his forehead and crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s no point in wandering a trail to get to where I’m headed, so I’ll just say it. I want to tell Robbie I’m his daddy.”

  Her heart skipped. She linked her unsteady fingers together in front of her. If ever she needed a time to rely on logic and forget emotion, this was it. “You mean,” she said carefully, “you want to be Robbie’s daddy.”

  “Yeah. It’s time to tell him the truth.”

  “And that’s it? You’re deciding it’s time, after all these years? Well, maybe if you hadn’t walked away from me—”

  “Don’t.” He sliced the air between them with his hand. “Don’t try that line again, and don’t blame it all on me. We’ve had this out before. You could have told me before I left, once you found out you were pregnant. And speaking of years, you’ve had the same number of them to reach me through Layne—if you’d really wanted me to know.”

  “And now you’re making the decision, all on your own? Despite the fact I’m his mother and less than a month ago, he had never met you?” She tightened her fingers, hoping to hold on to her rising anger. And failing. “All along, you’ve said you were willing to wait. So, why is it time now? What changed?”

  “He’ll have questions,” he shot back. “Lots of questions. And they’re going to start soon. What will you tell him when that happens? Do you want him to think his daddy didn’t care about him at all?”

  At his final words, the blood drained from her face, leaving her dizzy. She had said something similar once, one night in a pickup truck near the high-school baseball field, when she told him how she felt about her parents abandoning her.