“Already did that.”
“Ask her friends,” Caleb suggested.
They both turned to look at him.
“Ask her friends,” their normally silent brother repeated. “They’ll know what she likes.”
He had a point. Hank rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “She does have coffee with the new schoolteacher on Saturdays.”
Jack gestured. “There you go. Go talk to the schoolteacher.”
“Right now?”
“What are you waiting for? For her to decide she wants to be casual permanent-like?”
Ugh. Just the thought made him want to tear his beard out. “No.”
“Then, go.” Jack gave him a shove. “And take Caleb with you since he seems to be the idea man.”
“Me?” Caleb echoed. “Why me?”
“Because he clearly can’t do this on his own.” Jack shook his head. “If the word ‘casual’ comes up again, you put a stop to it, since this fool clearly won’t.” He gestured at a scowling Hank. “I’ll get the hay unspooled and start feeding the cattle. You two hurry in to town, talk to the teacher, and then come back and tell me what she said so we can plan this out.”
Hank narrowed his eyes at Jack. “Why are you so gung ho about this?”
He just patted his stomach. “I miss the breakfast doughnuts.”
Figured.
* * *
* * *
An hour later, Hank and Caleb parked in front of Painted Barrel’s elementary school. The sign out front read HAVE A GREAT SUMMER!! And Hank bit back a curse. “It’s summer break. School’s not in.”
Caleb nudged him with an elbow, then unbuckled his seat belt. “Might still be there. Summer school.”
Right. Becca was always bugging him to get Libby signed up for that. Pre-K. Said Libby would benefit from having friends her age. He thought of his independent little girl and wondered. She never seemed lonely. Maybe she was one of those kids that didn’t need anyone but family. Heck, Hank and his brothers had grown up just the three of them with Dad and Mom out in the wilderness . . . except Libby didn’t have brothers.
He’d think on it.
They got out of the car and put their cowboy hats on, and Hank felt real weird walking into the school. Like he shouldn’t be there. The moment they walked in, he saw the office to the right and headed there. A woman sat at the desk, fussing with her computer, and gave him an impatient look when he cleared his throat.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a teacher.”
Caleb bit back a snort of amusement, and it took everything Hank had not to kick his brother.
“You don’t say,” the woman replied in a dry voice. “Are you here to enroll someone for the fall? Or for the summer session?”
His thoughts raced. What was the teacher’s name? All he knew was that she had great hair—Becca always commented on it—and she was about Becca’s age. “Uh, maybe? I want to talk to the teacher first.”
“What grade?” The woman tried to hide her impatience behind a smile.
“My daughter’s four.”
“Pre-K?” She nodded and pulled out a folder, then held a stack of papers out to Hank. “You’ll want to enroll her soon. Classes start in a week. Here’s the paperwork—we’ll need that back quickly—and supplies and the list of things your daughter needs before she can join the class.”
“I want to talk to the teacher first,” he repeated. If it wasn’t that particular teacher, maybe she’d know which one had good hair and was Becca’s age. It wasn’t a big school, so there couldn’t be that many teachers. The building was small and cozy, the brick outside faded with age.
The woman stood up and pointed down the hall. “Miss Mckinney is probably still in her classroom, though she might be heading out for lunch soon. If she’s here, she’ll be in room 202. If not, you’ll have to come back some other time or email her to arrange a meeting.”
He nodded, grabbed a smirking Caleb by the arm, and dragged him down the hall, looking for room 202.
They found the door, and to Hank’s relief, a nice-seeming young woman sat behind a desk covered in colorful cutouts. Pictures of apples and big block letters decorated the wall, along with posters of kittens and puppies and other happy things. She stood up as they entered the room, a welcoming smile on her face. Her clothing was modest, with a long, tan pencil skirt and a pale blouse. He tried to figure out if she had nice hair, but it was pulled back in a long ponytail and didn’t seem nearly as nice as Becca’s tumbling waves . . . but maybe he was biased.
“Hi there. I’m Miss Mckinney. Are you parents . . .” She looked at them with a question in her eyes, waiting.
He took off his hat, feeling awkward. “I’m Hank and—”
“Oh, Hank!” She clasped her hands together, delighted. “Libby’s father? Becca’s told me so much about you. You must be here to enroll her in pre-K for the summer! I’m so glad.”
“Unless you can teach her how to shoot a gun or skin a fox, I don’t think Libby needs additional learning, but thank you,” Hank said, feeling curiously protective of his daughter. Why did everyone assume Libby needed school? Did they think he wasn’t a good father to her?
She cleared her throat politely. “Well, no, pre-K is about being social more than anything else. It gets small children used to the school environment, and we try to instill a sense of fun in learning. It sets a good foundation for their future, or at least I like to think so.” The teacher smiled brilliantly at him.
From behind him, Caleb made a choked sound.
Miss Mckinney looked over at Caleb, a curious expression on her face. “Do you have a child, too? I’m sorry, I don’t remember Becca saying anything else . . .” She trailed off, gazing at him.
Hank waited for Caleb to respond, but his brother had gone mute. He nudged him, and when that still didn’t make Caleb speak up, he answered for him. “Brother.”
“Oh. Of course.” Miss Mckinney’s smile grew wider. “Becca did say you had a wonderful family network for looking after Libby. That’s so great. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I came here to talk about Becca, not Libby,” Hank interrupted.
“Becca? Is she okay?” Her brow creased in concern.
“She’s fine. I need to woo her.”
“Woo . . . her?” The teacher’s gaze flicked from Hank to his brother, then back to Hank again. “I’m sorry. I’m confused. I thought you were already dating.”
“We are, but she keeps saying it’s casual. I need to convince her that it’s not.”
“Oh.” She still looked a bit confused. “I’m probably not a great person to ask for advice, but I’ll do what I can. What do you need to know?”
Hank watched her closely. “What do couples do together?”
“Therapy?” she teased.
Caleb gave a braying laugh, the sound overly loud and echoing off the walls.
They both turned to look at him. Hank scowled at his brother and then turned back to the teacher. “I need ideas for something that will make her feel special. Let her know that I’m in this for the long haul.”
Because he was, wasn’t he? The more he thought about it, the more right it felt. Becca was perfect for him. She was soft where he was hard, sweet and understanding where he was impatient, and she loved his daughter. She loved Hank’s kisses, and when she came, she made the most beautiful sounds that he’d ever heard. Yeah, he was in it for the long haul, all right.
Now he just had to convince her that she was, too.
“Well . . .” The teacher paused, thinking. She clasped her hands together and tapped them under her chin. “I mean . . . if it was me, I’d love a big gesture.”
“A big gesture?” Behind him, Hank could have sworn that Caleb leaned in.
“Yes. Not that flowers or dates aren’t great. They are. But it’s easy to run t
o the corner store and grab a bouquet of flowers, you know? Easy to make it seem like you put in effort when you really didn’t. A big gesture requires commitment, though. It requires planning. It shows that you know her enough to really understand her and what she likes, and it tells her that you’ve been taking the time out from your schedule to do this for her because she’s a priority for you, not an afterthought.” She gave him a rueful smile. “Just speaking from personal experience.”
“Sounds like,” he muttered, and Caleb nudged him from behind. He ignored that. “So . . . a big gesture.”
“Thought and effort are always appreciated,” she said with a little shrug.
She had a point. “What sort of big gesture, then?”
“You know her best. You have to decide.” Miss Mckinney beamed at him. “Becca talks so highly of you that I’m sure you’ll think of something perfect.”
Something perfect. Hell. He was going to have to give this some thought. But he nodded at her. “Well, I appreciate your time. Thank you, Miss Mckinney.”
“Please, call me Amy.” She smiled at both of them, her expression gentle. “And I really would love to meet Libby. We have a wonderful group of six children signed up for pre-K this summer, and I’d love for her to get some playmates her age. And it’s only half a day, so you don’t have to worry about her being gone for too long.”
“I . . . I’ll think about it.”
She gave a happy little clap, and he could have sworn that Caleb practically swooned behind him. “Please do,” she said excitedly, oblivious to his brother’s reaction.
Hank nodded and mumbled something about having a nice day, then hauled Caleb out of the classroom with him. He dragged his brother down the hall and out into the parking lot. Once they were there, he scowled at the man and gave him a strange look. “What’s gotten into your ass?”
“Nothing.” Caleb glanced back at the school, then at Hank. “You think she noticed me?”
“She couldn’t have missed you. You made weird noises and laughed like a donkey.”
He groaned. “I didn’t, did I?”
“You did.”
“Damn.” Caleb ran a hand down his face. “I just saw her and . . . my brain froze. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. Have you?”
Hank couldn’t even remember what she looked like. Ponytail. Lots of beige. “I . . . guess?” His tastes went to short, curvy women who didn’t know how to stay out of his business and who had a fondness for cutting hair.
Caleb’s face grew solemn. “I’m going to marry that woman, Hank.”
Huh. His brother never made declarations like that. Not Caleb. Jack was the blowhard. Caleb was the quiet, thoughtful one. If he was that in love with the teacher after five minutes, then that was that. “Can your true love hold off for a bit? I need help figuring out what sort of big gesture I’m going to do for Becca.” He had ideas, but he needed to pull a few things together first. “Come on.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
You’re humming,” Hannah pointed out as Becca blow-dried her curls. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you humming in over a year.”
“Am I? I guess I am.” She grinned, turning the chair ever so slightly so she could round-brush the next section of Hannah’s hair. “I’m just in a good mood.”
“Because of that big lumberjack?”
“He’s a cowboy, thank you very much,” Becca teased. Though at times, Hank did rather look like a lumberjack. “And it might be because of him. He’s coming over tonight.”
“I heard he comes over every night.”
She mock shook the brush at Hannah’s reflection like a chastising finger. She should have known that the hotel owner would be keeping tabs on what Becca did every night. Hannah loved nothing more than to watch everyone in town. Said it was better than reality TV. Maybe it should have been irritating, but she was too happy to care. Hank came over every night, and most of the time he had Libby with him.
Every once in a while, he didn’t. And those nights, he tended to stay until just before dawn.
She loved Libby . . . but those nights were secretly her favorite. Not because the little girl wasn’t around, but because on those nights, Hank parked Becca on every piece of furniture in the house and they made out like teenagers. Tonight promised to be more of the same, so she just smiled sweetly at Hannah. “Date night. You know how it goes. How’s Clyde, by the way?”
Hannah giggled like a schoolgirl. “That old fart. He told me I get more beautiful every year. I told him it was time for a visit to the eye doctor.” She sighed. “He’s a good man, though. Helping out up at Price Ranch. You know that Annie’s pregnant again?”
“Is she? Dustin must be so excited.” Becca smiled. This was gossip she loved hearing. She wanted to hear about babies and happy families.
“Oh yes. So many sweet little ones up there at that ranch. Does my heart good. They’re like grandchildren to me.” She beamed at Becca. “Just like yours will be.”
Awkward. But sweet, in a way. “You have a big heart, Hannah.”
“I just hope that lumberjack—excuse me, cowboy—of yours sees that you have a big one, too, and it needs snatching up.”
Becca chuckled. After well over a year of Hannah constantly dropping hints at Becca, she could take a “subtle” nudge like that easily. “Actually he said he’s got a surprise for me.”
“A ring?” She gasped. “So fast?”
“I . . . no, I don’t think it’s a ring.” Becca furrowed her brows. It wasn’t . . . was it? They were casual. Even so, her heart skipped a beat. “I think he’s just trying to surprise me. Maybe for my birthday?” Though it wasn’t for another five months. “Or his birthday?”
“Well, if it’s jewelry, I need all the details first thing in the morning.”
“If it’s jewelry, you’ll hear me screaming with delight,” Becca added wryly.
“So you’d say yes, then?”
Would she? They were still getting to know each other, but what she knew of him, she adored. It felt very different from her last relationship, when there were quirks and irritations that she cheerfully ignored because she had a goal in mind and was trying to shape Greg into that person. This wasn’t about shaping Hank into the perfect groom at all. She just . . . liked being with him. Loved being in his arms. Loved his smile, loved hearing him talk. Loved his darling little girl. She didn’t want to rush anything, but at the same time . . . she didn’t want to wait around another ten years and hope for the best.
But that might sound desperate. Becca Loftis, getting married after a short period of dating to the next guy that asked her out? She had to be careful what she said to Hannah. So she just smiled and went with, “Provided there was a long engagement so we could get to know each other better? Sure.”
Hannah was clearly disappointed in her answer. “Thought you’d be done with long engagements, but to each their own.”
Ouch.
She hurried up and finished Hannah’s hair, easing off on the conversation to try to edge the woman toward the door. Once she was gone, she headed to the back room, pretending to stock up on shampoo. Instead, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes.
Thought you’d be done with long engagements.
She knew Hannah hadn’t meant to cut so deeply, but that one was going to be leaving a mark for quite some time.
As if she’d been the one to want a long engagement last time! Becca couldn’t remember how many times she’d begged Greg to pick a date. Told him that she’d have been perfectly happy running off to one of those elopement cabins that were all the rage in the mountains. That she’d have been happy with the quickest of ceremonies as long as there was a ring on her finger and a future with the man she loved.
Instead, all she’d gotten was ten years of stress and heartbreak, and now a reputation that she was t
he one that stalled and had cold feet—thanks to Greg’s slick lies. It made her sick. Her hands trembled as she clutched at the small sink in the back room.
She was happy, wasn’t she? Why did she let crap like that get to her?
The bell chimed on the door, indicating she had a client. Biting back a groan at their timing, Becca wet her fingertips and smoothed her hair, then pinched her arm to distract herself from the tears that threatened to fall. She was fine. She was.
With a brilliant smile on her face, she left the back room, prepared to meet a customer . . .
And saw Hank instead.
With a wiggling bundle in his arms, a red bow around its neck.
“Hank?” Becca stared at the puppy in his arms. It whined and tried to break free the moment it saw her, and she reached her arms out. “What the heck?”
He handed her the puppy. She knew this particular little girl. She was one of the puppies that Doc had been hand-feeding for the last month or so. She’d gone from a teeny sausage of a pup to the roly-poly black-and-brown squirming bundle that Hank presented her with, all floppy ears and big liquid brown eyes. The moment the puppy was in her arms, the rascal started licking Becca’s chin, and Becca couldn’t help but giggle.
It was her favorite puppy. She’d only ever told Doc and Libby that she had a favorite among all the cute little dogs, but this one was it.
“This is a two-part gift,” her boyfriend said, his voice grave. “Is it okay?”
“Of course it’s okay!” She laughed as the puppy barked and nipped at her chin, as if agitated by her giggles. She cradled her in her arms, fascinated at the sweet face that was now hers. “I just . . . why?”
“You said you were lonely at night.” Hank watched her intently. “I don’t like that, so I brought you a friend.”
She smiled at him, her eyes misting with silly tears. Hadn’t she always wanted a dog? Her father had ranch dogs when she was a child, but she wasn’t allowed to play with them. He thought she’d distract them. She’d begged Greg for them to get a dog when he’d moved in with her, and after he’d left . . . it just hadn’t occurred to her. Of course she could have a dog. She was an adult.
The Cowboy Meets His Match Page 16