by Judy Duarte
She let out a ragged sigh. “I feel as though I’ve let you down.”
“Why would you think that? The way I see it, you took your responsibility seriously. I’m actually impressed.”
“Thank you, but I never should have let him out of my sight in the first place.” She closed her eyes.
“Don’t blame yourself. The same thing happens to me at least four times a week. Justin is impulsive. He has a history of running off and doing his own thing, which led to some of the behavioral problems he was having at school. We’ve been working on correcting it, but he’s eight. It happens. I should have better prepared you.”
She shuddered, and he adjusted his body so he could pull her even closer. He reminded himself that she was upset and vulnerable now, but she felt so good in his arms. He stroked her back, his fingers unhampered by any bra straps. And with those long, tanned legs bare to her thighs, she was practically naked.
Aw, man. It would be so easy to take advantage of the situation. But should he?
Then what?
She had her head cradled against his shoulder, and he was tempted to kiss the top of her head—a gentle kiss meant to comfort. But something told him he wouldn’t want to stop at gentle.
Or at the top of her head.
And kissing her would take their relationship to a level neither of them was ready for, not when three kids stood in the balance.
So he reined in his lust and didn’t kiss her at all. But he probably should have taken the opportunity while he’d had the chance, because it seemed as though she was pulling away from him and getting to her feet before he knew it.
She was leaving? So soon?
“It’s been a long day,” she said. “I need to go.”
He followed her to the door. He hated to see her go, but the fact that she was wearing his shirt and shorts gave him some comfort. If he wouldn’t be sleeping with her, maybe his clothes would.
“Thanks for dinner and for understanding,” she said, as she grabbed the oversized purse and the wet shoes she’d left just outside the front door.
When she straightened, their eyes met.
A good-night kiss crossed his mind, but he pondered the wisdom of doing so for a beat too long, because she said, “I’ll talk to you later.”
Then she headed for her car.
As he stood on the porch and watched her go, the sway of her hips and those long, shapely legs taunted him. He kicked himself for his lack of courage, his foresight and his strong sense of family values—or whatever the hell had convinced him to do the right thing and keep his lips and his hands to himself.
He’d had two opportunities to kiss Angie tonight, neither of which he’d taken. He tried to tell himself that he’d done the right thing, that he’d made the right call, but his libido wasn’t buying it.
But wouldn’t you know it? Once he’d lost his chance to kiss her, he wanted her all that much more.
Chapter Six
After Angie left, Toby went into the bathroom to take a shower and spotted her wet workout clothes hanging over his towel bar. He’d assumed she’d taken them with her, along with her purse and the wet shoes she’d left outside by the door, but apparently, she’d forgotten them after she’d changed.
He’d return them, of course, which would give him an opportunity to see her again soon.
That was a good thing, right?
Less than twenty minutes ago, he’d been tempted to kiss her. In fact, he’d been tempted to do more than that, right there on his living-room sofa—and despite having a house full of kids.
But that wouldn’t have been good. He blew out a sigh.
As long as those three children were depending upon him, he’d better not even think about having a woman spend the night. And since he hoped they’d be living with him until they each went off to college, he’d better get used to sleeping alone—unless he tied a cowbell around each of their necks.
The image of him doing that was actually kind of funny, and he might have even chuckled out loud if being twenty-six and facing the possibility of ten years of near celibacy wasn’t downright unsettling—and unthinkable.
Surely it wouldn’t come to that.
He ran his hand through his hair, then turned on the water in the shower, adjusting the temperature to warm—hoping cold sprays wouldn’t be the only ones in his future.
Something told him this was going to be a long night, and that sleep would be a long time coming.
And he’d been right.
The next day, as soon as school let out, he surprised the kids by driving to the Superette and telling them they could each pick out a snack. As they unbuckled their seat belts, he reached for the plastic bag holding Angie’s now-dry workout clothes.
Then he herded the happy kids into the mom-and-pop grocery store, riding pretty high in the saddle himself. No matter what he told himself, being with Angie always brightened his day.
Trouble was, once he got inside and the kids took off, he didn’t see her at any of the checkout registers.
Where was she? He could’ve sworn that she worked at the market on Thursdays. But it was tough keeping up with her schedule. Had he been wrong? Was she working for Sawyer and Laurel today?
Dang. Was this what his life would be like if he were to actually date her? Would she always be working at some odd job, changing shifts frequently, possibly moving to another city?
She didn’t have a history of stability, and no matter how many family conversations she livened up or how many heated looks passed between the two of them, nothing was going to change that fact.
Just when he began to realize he’d have to take the plastic bag back to his truck, Justin ran up and asked, “Can I have one of Angie’s cupcakes? She put little race cars on top and everything.”
“Slow down, Justin. What are you talking about?”
“I’ll show you.” The boy turned and dashed off toward the bakery section.
Toby followed him to the display case—and to Angie, who stood behind it, wearing a white apron tied around her slim waist.
“See?” Justin said, imploring Toby to tear his gaze from Angie and to look at the tray of cupcakes behind the glass enclosure, each one blue and topped with candy sprinkles and a tiny toy race car.
“You’re a baker, too?” Toby asked her.
“It’s a long story. The baker called in sick, so I stepped in. And when I spotted the toy cars stashed in one of the cupboards in back, I thought they might add a little more pizzazz. Apparently, the customers agreed because we sold the first batch already and the second is going fast.”
“So can I have one for my treat?” Justin asked again.
“I want the one with the purple car,” Kylie chimed in.
“All right,” Toby said. “We’ll take ’em.”
“Do you want to eat them here?” Angie asked. “Or should I box them up for you?”
Justin, always one for instant gratification, said, “I want to eat mine right now.”
Toby laughed. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I make them wait.”
Angie carried the cupcakes to one of the two small bistro-style tables, where the morning customers enjoyed their doughnuts and coffees. She set them before Justin and Kylie, then passed out a couple of napkins, just as Brian walked up with a highly caffeinated energy drink in his hand.
“I’m gonna just have this instead of a snack,” Brian said, as he sat down at the table.
“Oh, no, you won’t.” Toby snatched the can out of the boy’s hand. “Kids aren’t supposed to drink this crap. It’s not good for you.”
“Mike Waddell drinks it all the time at school,” Brian argued.
“Maybe so,” Angie said, as she set a cupcake in front of the boy. “But Mike Waddell got detention last week for jumpi
ng out of his seat seven times during that movie in science class. He also had eight cavities at his last dentist appointment.”
As the kids dug into their cupcakes, Toby followed Angie behind the bakery display case and lowered his voice. “How did you know that about Mike Waddell?”
“We live in a small town, Toby. People talk. Especially Brian’s teacher, Mrs. Dawson, and Wendy Cummings, the dental hygienist.” Angie glanced at the plastic bag he still held. “What’s that?”
“The clothes you left in my bathroom.” He handed them to her.
She flushed, then scanned the area as if they were making a drug deal and she didn’t want to get caught. Then she stashed the bag in one of the drawers near the cash register.
Was she embarrassed? Whatever for? It wasn’t as though she’d spent the night at the ranch and left her panties behind, although the thought of her doing that made him smile.
She lowered her voice. “And that’s another thing people have been talking about and why I’m really back here in bakery and not out in front.”
Because people thought she and Toby were...sleeping together?
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“Several people who came through the checkout line asked me about the incident at the pool. They’d heard from a neighbor, who’d heard from a cousin, who... Well, you know how small towns are.”
Yes, he did. And there wasn’t much he could do to stop a rumor like that from getting out. But heck, if he was going to be the subject of gossip, it was too bad he couldn’t have had a night to remember it by.
“Finally, around ten this morning, I asked Mrs. Tierney if she could man the cash register for a while,” Angie said. “And so she let me work back here instead.”
“All because of a little misunderstanding?” Toby shook his head. “That reminds me, though. How is Mr. Murdock?”
“He was here this morning, having coffee and holding court. He gave everyone a firsthand account of what happened. He...uh...also mentioned to Mrs. Rhodes, who was on her way to The Cuttery for her shampoo and set, that I’ve been helping you out a lot with the kids.”
Should that be a secret? Toby wondered. Apparently Angie thought so because the pink flush on her cheeks deepened.
“Actually,” he said, “you’ve been a godsend. And I really appreciate your help more than you can imagine.”
“Even after yesterday?” she asked.
He laughed. “I told you before. I’ve had my share of bad days, too. It happens.”
Angie glanced at the kids, who’d finished their cupcakes and were now racing their frosting-coated cars along the table, then looked at Toby and smiled. “To be honest, I’ve really enjoyed helping you, too. The kids are great, and I’m actually surprised at how much I like spending time with them.”
What about their foster dad? Toby wanted to ask. Do you enjoy spending time with him, too?
But he knew better than to let things get personal, especially when he really did need another favor from her tomorrow. Besides, he’d picked up on what she’d left unsaid earlier.
If Mrs. Rhodes knew Angie was spending so much time with him and the kids, it wouldn’t be long before all the other women getting their hair done at The Cuttery would start linking him and Angie romantically.
He really didn’t mind what people said, but he didn’t think Angie would like it, especially if her mom got wind of it. Doris Edwards had been pushing Angie to find a husband. And if the eligible men in town thought she was already taken, it might ruin her chance of going out with a guy who could offer her more than a cattle ranch and three foster kids.
Although the thought of her going out on a real date with someone else reared up inside of him, throwing him to the ground like an unexpected buck from a mild-mannered horse.
Maybe, in that case, he ought to keep her unavailable for a while—until he figured out where this thing was going. Or where he wanted it to go.
“I feel bad asking you this,” he said, “but I’m in a bind. I’d ask Stacey, but she works and has her hands full with Piper.”
“I’d be glad to help,” Angie said. “What do you need me to do?”
“I have a meeting in Lubbock tomorrow afternoon, and I’m not sure when I’ll get back. Is there any chance you could pick the kids up from school and take them home?”
“I have a few things to do, but it shouldn’t be too hard to reschedule them. Let me work on that. In the meantime, don’t worry about the kids. I’ll pick them up from school. And I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home.”
Well, what do you know?
He was back in the saddle again.
* * *
The meeting in Lubbock had gone later than Toby had expected, so he called Angie before he left town and told her to go ahead and feed the kids.
“Don’t wait for me,” he said.
“We’re having spaghetti,” she told him. “I’ll keep a plate warm for you.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
“Did your meeting go well?” she asked.
“It sure did. I’ve been negotiating a deal on a piece of property that backs mine, and the man who owned it had refused to sell. But he passed away last spring, and his widow doesn’t want to deal with it any longer. Her late husband thought it was a lot more valuable than it really is, so we had to agree upon a price.”
“Great. We’ll have to celebrate when you get home.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Oh,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told the kids they could have a movie night after dinner.”
“That’s fine. I’ll see you in a bit.”
When the line disconnected, he turned on the radio, letting Gladys Knight fill the cab with her soulful voice as she sang about a midnight train to Georgia.
See, all you Texas country music fans. Willie Nelson isn’t the only one who can sing about the Peach State.
The song had barely ended when his cell rang.
Toby glanced at the lit display, but didn’t recognize the area code. Still, he turned down the volume on the radio, took the call and pushed the speakerphone button. “Hello?”
“It’s Barbara Hemings, Toby.”
The kids’ aunt. He glanced in the rearview mirror, then pulled to the shoulder of the road and let the truck idle.
“Hi, Barbara.” He wanted to ask her how rehab was going, but the woman sometimes became defensive, so he let it be. Besides, he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a social call, which was why he wanted to have his hands free in case he needed to make any notes about something she said.
“I heard about what happened at the pool the other day, so I put in a call to the case worker from child services. I’m waiting for her call back, but I thought you should know that just because I’m stuck in court-ordered treatment, I haven’t stopped fighting for my kids.”
They weren’t her kids. And she’d had a lot of opportunities to fight for them, especially when she had custody, but she kept blowing it. However, arguing with her wasn’t going to solve anything.
“I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, Barbara, but that incident was blown all out of proportion. Justin was never in danger at the pool. The kids are all safe, and they’re happy. And just so you know, I’ve already called Ms. Fisk and given her a heads-up about the situation. I’m sure she’ll tell you the same thing when she calls you back.”
“Toby, you’re a young, single man with a tumbling-down ranch. And those kids can be a handful at times. There’s no way you can handle them on your own.”
Tumbling-down ranch? He’d turned the Double H around in the three years he’d owned it. And, thanks to the meeting he’d had thirty minutes ago, he’d be running more cattle next year, and that meant he’d be turning an even better pro
fit—if things went according to plan.
“As I seem to remember,” he reminded her, “you were single when you took the kids on, too. And my ‘tumbling-down’ ranch is a hell of a lot nicer than that cockroach-infested motel you had them living in when the state took them away from you.”
“Yes, and that turned out badly. But I’m better now.”
At least the woman was able to admit the obvious.
“Anyway,” she added, “the kids need to be with family. And if they can’t be with me for the next few months, then I want them with one of my relatives.”
What family? If there were any Hemings relatives nearby, wouldn’t they have stepped up by now?
“Do the kids even know these relatives?” Toby finally asked, his fingers gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles ached.
“No, but they’re family, Toby. You of all people should understand about long-lost family.”
She was talking about James Marshall Fortune coming to Horseback Hollow and finding his sister, Jeanne Marie, Toby’s mom. Although, quite frankly, Toby was surprised that she even knew about that.
“I have a cousin in California,” Barbara said. “I’m going to ask him to take the children until I get out of rehab.”
Great. Another upheaval? And just who was her cousin?
“What’s his name? What does he do?”
“His name is Rocky, and he’s looking for work. His parole agent thinks he can find a job by the end of this month. His wife works at a hospital out there, but one of his conditions of parole is that he’s not allowed to work at hospitals anymore, so that’s out. But there are plenty of other places where he can get work.”
His parole agent? He couldn’t work in a hospital anymore? If the cousin couldn’t be trusted in a hospital then he sure as shooting couldn’t be trusted with Brian, Justin and Kylie.
What made Barbara think that the children would be better off with some deadbeat cousin they didn’t even know than they would be with Toby?
“I don’t think that’s in the children’s best interest, Barbara.”