The Love of a Cowboy

by Anna Jeffrey

  He shook his head and dropped his hands to his side. “Damn, Dal. That, I can’t make a promise to. But I’ll put it this way. I’ll think on it. That’s as honest as I can be.”

  Emotions volleyed. Her stomach did somersaults in rhythm with the pulse in her temples. She thought of deep green trees and cool mountain mornings. She pictured head-high snow banks and tried to imagine how thirty-below felt. And she pictured tiny little Joe standing alone among Luke’s three nearly-grown children. She gave a puny laugh. “When you came here, you surely didn’t expect . . . just because we slept together—”

  He cupped her chin with his hand and kissed her hard and quick. “Stop calling what we did last night sleeping together. We made love. There’s a difference.”

  Well, that’s something. He knows the difference.

  “And just for the record,” he continued, “I wanted, but I didn’t expect a damn thing. There’s a difference in that, too.”

  He stepped back, jerked his watch from his pocket and snapped it open. “I gotta go. I’ll miss my plane. I’m gonna say ’bye to Joe.”

  The hardened cowboy was back. She knew too well how capable he was of setting aside his feelings. Her chest felt like her ribs had caved in on her heart. She didn’t follow him to Joe’s room, didn’t want to watch his good-bye.

  He returned to the living room wiping his nose with his handkerchief. As she battled a wave of guilt, he picked up his hat and bag. He had said nothing about when or if he would ever return to Loretta. “Now that we’re friends again, I guess we’ll hear from you someday?”

  “It’ll be night before I get to Boise. Real late when I get home. I’ll call when I get the chance.”

  She nodded, fighting the old hen that wanted to say, Just leave a hundred dollars on the dresser. And fearing that saying anything at all might bring a waterfall of tears.

  On the front porch, they stopped and looked out at the bright morning and the cloudless, sun-bleached sky. The day was already hot.

  She scolded herself for it, but couldn’t keep from saying, “You could stay. Another day. Like you originally planned.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Wouldn’t make any difference. It’s better that I go. I’ve still got winter to deal with. You need the freedom to do what you have to. And to think about things.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see.”

  But the truth was, while she loved being Joe’s mother, she couldn’t picture herself as Luke’s wife. And she couldn’t imagine leaving the Handy Pantry or Loretta. Now she had roots.

  He dropped an arm around her shoulder. “Just a simple yes or no is all I’m asking. No pussyfooting around.”

  “Is this an ultimatum?”

  “No, but you know I’m not a frivolous-minded man. Your decision has consequences for all of us. Nobody knows it better than I do.”

  “I hate consequences.”

  “They’re always there, sweetheart. They’re always there.”

  Yes, and one of them’s sleeping back in the house, she thought.

  He smiled and pulled her closer. “Looks like it’s gonna be another hot day for you. You ever have those bad-ass storms I hear about?”

  “You mean tornadoes? Don’t worry. We won’t blow away.”

  “We don’t have those in the mountains.”

  She couldn’t let the point go un-refuted. “You have blizzards.”

  She stood on the sidewalk as he opened the trunk and shoved in his bag. “I’ll be damn. I forgot . . .”

  He reached into the spare tire well for a shiny pink sack emblazoned with Bon Marche. Dahlia recognized the logo of the upscale Boise department store. He handed her the crumpled sack, holding the handle between his thumb and two fingers. “I brought you a present. I forgot about it.”

  Sheesh. There was no hope. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

  Cocking her head, she squinted up at him as she pulled a small gift-wrapped box from the bag. She tore the package open and found a gold neck chain lying on a blue, cut-velvet lining. It held a delicate, free-flowing heart encrusted with a near-blinding galaxy of diamonds. She blinked twice and looked up at him. “But—but this cost a lot of money.”

  He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but it was Annabeth’s idea. When she heard I was coming down here, she made me go shopping.”

  “Annabeth?”

  He shrugged. “She thinks I need a girlfriend.”

  Tears brimmed Dahlia’s eyelids. She wiped them with the back of her hand.

  He looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “Hey, don’t cry, sugar. It was her idea, but I’m the one who picked it out, honest. I thought it looked delicate and lady-like, like you. When I saw it, I thought about those stars I used see in your eyes when I did something that made you happy.”

  Well, maybe he did have one or two romantic bones. “I just—well, it’s just . . . It’s so expensive.”

  “Nah. It didn’t cost that much. Let’s see how pretty it looks.”

  He took the necklace and stepped behind her. She lifted her hair for him to fasten it. As she touched it with two fingertips, his hands slid around her waist and she turned in his arms. “You are such a jerk. Every time I think I’m in control of myself around you, you do something I don’t know how to react to.” She slid her arms around his neck, raised to her tiptoes and kissed him.

  They parted and he pressed his forehead against hers. “Dal, you know I’m not any good with words. I wasn’t bypassing last night, honest.” He kissed her again. “Promise me you’ll think about things and promise you won’t forget me.”

  “That works both ways. Don’t you forget me either.”

  “After last night, I don’t think I will. I’ll be going around from now on with my hat on my lap.”

  Her cheeks warmed and she gave him a coquettish squint. “That was your fault. It’s true, you know. You do bring out the worst in me.”

  He chuckled in the old sexy, intimate way. “If that was your worst, darlin’, you just keep on being bad.” He kissed her again. “I gotta go.”

  “I know.” She stood back.

  “I’ll call you soon as I can.” He folded himself into the Taurus, closed the door and reached for her wrist. “I told you, but you didn’t tell me.”

  Well, he hadn’t really told her, but she supposed in his own mind, he thought he had. “I—I do. . . . I think.”

  “You think? No, sweetheart. You know. And I know it, too. Say the words.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, dammit, I love you. . . . Maybe.”

  His face beamed. “Don’t forget it.”

  He started the engine and she sniffled in spite of herself.

  “Don’t cry now. This is gonna work out. Just takes a little patience. Kiss my boy and tell him every day that I care about him.” Luke pulled his handkerchief from his rear pocket and wiped his nose.

  And he was gone.

  “Be careful,” she mouthed as his car left her sight.

  Chapter 30

  Luke stewed all the way from Texas to Idaho, then from Boise to Callister. And he still stewed on the winding trip home. If he didn’t succeed in persuading Dahlia to marry him and bring Joe to live at the Double Deuce, the only future he could envision looked bleak and lonely. Dahlia filled a place inside him that had been empty far too long. If he had a destiny with a woman, she was it. No part of him doubted it.

  He had thought they were making progress until she bowled him over by saying she wanted more kids. He couldn’t relate to her feelings. His brother, sisters and he were close in age and had been in each other’s way forever it seemed. Still, because it was of serious importance to her, he had to give it earnest consideration.

  He didn’t dislike kids, but Lord, could he raise a second family? And under the circumstances, should he? Then he reminded himself, with Joe, he had already started one.

  Dal was right about the resentment combining two families could generate. Could
he do it and maintain peace and harmony at the ranch? Bringing a new wife and one kid into the Double Deuce’s communal life style might be like throwing a cat into a pack of dogs. What would happen if Dahlia gave birth to a second child? Or a third?

  The matter occupied his thoughts until he reached the Double Deuce’s front gate well after midnight. A silvery moon gave enough light to see, so he switched off his headlights as he headed for the Big House.

  At the driveway’s Y, he changed his mind about rousing the family and took left leg to the cabin. As usual, Frosty and Bingo had taken advantage of his absence and were sleeping on the deck. They began to bark as his truck neared. He tried to shush them when he slid out, but to no avail. So much for sneaking in.

  Inside the cabin, he opened every window, breathed in the fresh, mountain air. Air conditioning—he hated it. His sojourn in Texas had been the longest four days he had ever spent anywhere. He hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep on any night. He stripped, sprawled in a bed that fit him and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  He awoke before daylight, showered and pulled on the jeans he had worn yesterday. He no longer kept clean clothing in the cabin. His mother had insisted he take over the office in the Big House, so now the cabin was used as a guesthouse.

  As he shaved, he heard tapping on the front door and the whine of the hinge. “Come on in,” he called, knowing the invitation was gratuitous only. Such an early visitor would be his dad who would come in whether invited or not. He suppressed the irritation the lack of regard for his privacy caused him. That would have to change when he brought Dahlia and Joe here to live.

  He guessed he would move his flock back into the cabin. The new house DAM Ranches had built for Brenna and Morgan, though vacant, was too small for a family of six and located too far away from the barns and corrals. He would give Dal free rein. If she wanted to re-model the cabin and paint it pink, that was okay as long as she and Joe were in it.

  Luke wiped remaining patches of lather from his face and craned his neck around the door jamb. His dad limped in, his unlit pipe clenched between his teeth. “How did you find Texas?”

  Back in his familiar surroundings, Texas seemed as far away as the moon, just as Dahlia had said. And he was glad because that part of the world felt a whole lot like Hell must feel. “Hot and far.”

  “I saw. I watched the weather down there on TV.”

  “Over a hundred every day. Remember John Woods from Abilene, who bought bulls from us a few years ago? I looked him up. Took a look at his operation.” Luke reached for the shirt he had hung on the chair back the night before. “Ethel got breakfast ready? I haven’t had but one decent meal since I left here.”

  Piggy’s letter still lay where he had left it on the table beside his recliner. His dad picked it up and glanced over it again. “What does she want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “The boy’s not yours, then?”

  “He is. When you see him, you won’t doubt it.”

  Scowling, his dad removed his pipe, lowered his head and shook it. “They’re waiting breakfast for you. Brenna and Morgan came yesterday. Let’s go on up there.”

  In the Big House’s entry, Luke’s children met him and hugged him. Brenna’s and Morgan’s presence reminded him it was Saturday. They often came up from Boise for weekends. Luke thought it a puzzling thing. When they lived at the ranch, his sister and brother-in-law spent nearly every weekend in Boise; now that they lived there, they came back to the ranch on weekends.

  He felt his family’s curious glances. None of them had been to Texas for any reason and each knew only some separate part of why he had gone.

  Breakfast conversation went as usual—the weather, the upcoming cattle sale, hunting season, political gossip from Boise. He ate with little comment, fortifying himself for the unavoidable conversation with his mother.

  At the end of breakfast, Brenna announced she was two months’ pregnant. Morgan squeezed her hand and blushed. Luke’s first thought was of Joe and Dahlia. He glanced at his mother whose eyes became shiny. The soft side of her always showed when it came to her grandchildren and he wondered how she would react when she saw his second son.

  Brenna wanted to look at his new stallion. Except for his mother and himself, all left the table and trooped to the barn. No one wanted to be present for the upcoming discussion between him and Mom.

  She spoke the minute the family cleared the door. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Are you going to tell me about the new addition you’ve brought to the family or am I going to have to hear it second-hand from your dad and your sisters?”

  “He’s stout and healthy. His name’s Joe and I’m proud he’s mine.”

  She leaned to the right and began stacking the soiled breakfast plates. “I see. You’re sure of that fact, that he’s yours.”

  “I am.”

  “What does it mean to us here?”

  “He’s your grandson.” Luke helped her by picking up plates out of her reach and handing them to her. “As much kin as my other kids. I’d hoped you’d want to know him.”

  “With him in Texas, that’s not likely.”

  Luke stopped his activity and leveled a direct look at his antagonist. “I might as well say what’s on my mind, Mom. I’m not gonna keep fighting you about this. I intend for my family to treat Joe like my son and his mother like the good woman she is.”

  His mom leaned against the chair back and folded her arms across her chest. “Your arrogance is ill-placed, considering you’ve exposed all of us to the risks of a paternity suit.”

  Luke’s patience snapped. For the second time in forty-eight hours, somebody had accused him of arrogance. “What do you expect of me? Lee Ann’s married, so that possibility is out. It’s always been out. Have you picked out somebody else now?”

  “Don’t be disrespectful. When it comes to women, we’ve seen evidence of your judgment, Son. Your motivation dangles between your legs. What am I supposed to tell the family about this catch-colt child?”

  Anger flew through him, white-hot. No one could set off his temper like his mother could. “Why do you have to tell them anything? They’ve all got minds of their own. I’m gonna say this just once and I’m not gonna argue about it. If Dahlia ever says she’ll marry me—and just so you’ll know, I did ask her—I intend to bring her here to live and it’s not gonna be like it was when Janet was here.”

  He kicked up his nerve and said something that had gnawed at him for twelve years. “Janet was a far cry from a perfect wife and mother, but she didn’t get much encouragement around here either. If you had ever given her a chance, she might’ve been different.”

  His mother huffed. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

  He scooted his chair back with a jerk, stood up and threw down his napkin. “It’s a new day, Mom. I’m damn near thirty-six years old and I’m lonesome. If the woman I choose to be my wife can’t be treated decent in this house, then I’ll build a place clear up on Sterling Mountain. And you’ll never know my son, Joe. If that’s what you want, then I’m willing.”

  He strode toward the front door, swearing under his breath.

  “Luke, wait. You know I don’t want that.”

  Hearing a catch in her voice, he stopped and looked back. She struggled to her feet, her hands braced on the table. “I just hate to see you make another foolish mistake. Bring in here some cute little thing with dollar signs in her eyes and no idea of what she’s getting into.”

  “Dahlia’s not a cute little thing. She’s an accomplished beautiful woman. I’m lucky she gives me the time of day. She runs a business and takes care of our son. And she does it all without my help. And that fact galls me more than you’ll ever know.” He yanked on the front door latch. “Back off, Mom. I’ve made up my mind.”

  He stamped to the barn, found Shorty currying a horse. “How was Texas?” he asked.

  “Hot,” Luke answered, in no mood for small talk.
>
  He paced around the corral, letting his ire and his blood pressure settle. The ranch’s business awaited him. He started back toward the house, taking his time. Secluded behind the office’s closed door, he tackled a tall stack of mail. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Brenna ducked her head inside and announced the cocktail hour.

  He had been too busy to even stop for lunch or think of his Texas trip. As it and Dahlia resurfaced in his thoughts, so did the daunting task ahead of him—telling his daughters they had a half-brother, a confession he dreaded.

  Kathleen and Dave showed up for supper, which, with Brenna and Morgan home for the weekend, was inevitable. Luke barbecued a grill full of steaks and they ate outside on the back deck and visited and had a good time teasing his sisters about both of them being pregnant at the same time.

  Kathleen told them she could feel her child’s movement. Dave beamed like a flashlight and rubbed her belly. Luke listened and watched heavy-hearted, hating he hadn’t shared that moment with Dahlia.

  Before that thought could drive his mood to the bottom of a black hole, Morgan pulled him aside. “If you need some legal help, I could do it on the QT, without involving Brad or the family. I don’t know Texas paternity law, but—”

  “It’s not a problem, Morg. And nothing’s gonna be done under the table. It might cause Mom a heart attack, but one of these days, Dahlia Montgomery’s gonna marry me.”

  “That’s great, Luke. Brenna and I thought she was the one when we met her last summer.”

  After supper, Luke left the family playing games and watching TV and drove the Jeep down to the cabin to think. The lamp beside his old tan recliner lit the living room in a soft amber. The cabin held a chill, so he sat on the cold hearth and laid a fire in the stone fireplace.

  Behind cupboard doors in the fireplace’s stonework, a small bar hid. Once, its shelves had been filled with assorted liquors and glasses. Opening the doors, he recalled how, after a bitter fight with Janet, he had cleared out every bottle and glass, including some expensive, fancy crystal, and hauled all of it to the landfill in town. Now, a single bottle of Jack Daniel’s sat on one shelf. It had been there untouched for weeks. He carried it to the kitchen, dragged a tumbler from a cupboard shelf and poured a splash of whiskey.