The Cowboy's Family

by Minton, Brenda

  “I love this time of year.”

  He downshifted and turned into the parking lot of Circle A convenience store. “Yeah, me, too.”

  The timbre of his voice was low and husky, reminding her of fingers in her hair. Rachel swallowed at a thought that felt a little dangerous to a woman who had always been pretty happily single.

  The metal building that housed the Circle A was lit up inside and out. Cars were lined up at the gas pumps and several trucks were stopped at the edge of the paved lot; teenagers hanging out on a Sunday night.

  “This town never changes.” Wyatt shook his head as he made the observation.

  “Is that bad?”

  “No, not really. I guess it’s good to find a place that isn’t moving too fast.” He pulled the key from the ignition. “Do you want to eat at one of the booths inside?”

  Orange plastic seats and bright fluorescent lights. That would just draw attention to them. “I’d rather eat out here.”

  “I guess we could be like the kids and sit on the tailgate.”

  Why that appealed to her, she didn’t have a clue. But it did. She dug around in the handful of teenage memories she’d held on to and not one of them included sitting on the tailgate with a cowboy. Every woman should have that memory.

  “Sounds like fun.”

  He shot her a look and smiled. His eyes were dark and his skin was tanned from working in the sun. He pushed the white cowboy hat back a little, giving her a better view. Who needed the Seven Wonders of the World if they could sit in a truck with Wyatt Johnson?

  “So, are you coming in?”

  She nodded and reached for her door handle. This was getting ridiculous, getting lost in daydreams that should have faded when she was sixteen, wanting things she’d thought she’d never have, with a man who clearly wasn’t looking.

  Butterfly, don’t fail me now. She smiled a little as she closed the truck door and met him on the sidewalk. They didn’t hold hands and he didn’t put a guiding hand on her back. This wasn’t a date, just two people having pizza.

  Because her car hadn’t started. She reminded herself that he was just being kind. When they circled the building and walked up to the sliding glass doors on the front of the building, their reflection greeted her. A man in jeans and a cowboy hat, a woman in a dress and boots. They looked like a nice couple, she thought.

  Reminder—not a couple, just a nice guy who offered to take her home. Handsome, sweet and just a friend.

  The cool air of the convenience store and the aroma of convenience foods greeted them as they walked through the doors. A few kids stood around the soda fountain, talking, laughing and being kids. Wyatt’s hand touched her back and he guided her to the counter where food warmed beneath lights and pizza circled on a display wheel.

  “Pepperoni or sausage?” Wyatt asked, too close to her ear. She shivered a little and shrugged. He smiled at the girl behind the counter. “Three slices of each.”

  She started to object but kept her mouth closed. The girl in the red apron smock opened the plastic door and slid slices of pizza into a box.

  “I can get our drinks,” Rachel offered. “Do you really want a slushy?”

  He grinned, the way Kat grinned when she was up to something. And a slushy wasn’t exactly an act of rebellion. But on him, it appeared that way. His grin was a little lopsided and his dark eyes flashed.

  “I want all three flavors.”

  She grimaced. “For real?”

  “For real.”

  It sounded disgusting to Rachel, but if he really wanted to do that to himself, more power to him. She held his cup under each nozzle and grabbed a bottle of water for herself. When she returned he was at the register. He eyed her water but didn’t comment.

  Not until they were back outside sitting on the tailgate of his truck.

  “Water, seriously?”

  “I like water.” She took a slice of pizza from the box.

  And then there was silence as they ate and watched teenagers horsing around. One girl tried too hard. Rachel sighed because she remembered trying too hard. She remembered chasing the boys, grabbing them, laughing too loud.

  “Another slice?” He held out the box but she shook her head.

  “Two is enough for me.”

  He set the box down next to him and nodded at the teenagers. “That really takes me back.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Rachel leaned against the side of the truck bed. “But I bet we have different memories. You were that boy, the one with the swagger and the grin.”

  A boy in jeans, a T-shirt and boots, with the big truck and the bigger smile.

  He grinned and tipped his hat back. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

  “I was that girl.” She pointed to the girl who was grabbing the boys and staggering just a little. Rachel wanted to rescue her, to pull her out of the crowd and tell her to love herself.

  Closing her eyes, it was too easy to be that girl, to feel so insecure, to want so much to be loved and not getting that it really did have to start with accepting herself. She really hadn’t gotten it, that she couldn’t force people to love her.

  “You okay?” The words were soft and a hand touched hers.

  Rachel opened her eyes and smiled. “Just remembering.”

  “What’s wrong with that girl?” Wyatt didn’t look at the girl. He watched her instead. She shrugged and avoided what she knew would be a questioning look, but she felt his gaze on her, felt his intensity. “She looks like she’s having fun.”

  “She isn’t having fun. She’s trying to find someone who will love her.”

  He didn’t respond. She turned to look at him, smiling because she hadn’t meant to delve that deeply into the past.

  “That was you?”

  “That was me.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “I’ve gone through some changes since then.” Another reason for the butterfly, a reminder that life has a way of changing things. Every season brings something new.

  She hopped down from the back of the truck. “We should go.”

  He nodded, agreeing. Instead of commenting, he grabbed their trash and carried it to the barrel at the corner of the store. Rachel opened her door to get into the truck, but she shot one last look back at the kids. They had a beach ball, bouncing it in the air from person to person. Another truck pulled in. More kids got out. The young girl she had watched raced around the crowd, frantically trying to be a part of something.

  A deep ache attached itself to Rachel’s heart, remembering that person she’d left behind. But when Wyatt got behind the wheel, she questioned if she really had, or was that insecure girl still hiding inside her, wanting the love that Rachel insisted she really didn’t need.

  The lights of the parsonage glowed a soft yellow from behind gauzy curtains. A motion light in the backyard came on as Wyatt pulled the truck to a stop. He shifted into neutral and set the emergency brake. Rachel was already reaching for the door handle.

  He should let it end that way, with her getting out, him letting her walk up to the door. But a butterfly tattoo and the hurt look that had flicked across her features as they’d sat eating their pizza kept him from listening to common sense.

  Later he would regret this moment, he knew he would. He would regret not listening to the part of him that wanted to remain detached. Instead he got out of the truck and met her as her feet hit the ground.

  “I can help you get your car to the garage tomorrow.”

  “Dad can take care of it.” Her eyes were huge in the dusky night.

  Another moment that he’d have to think about later: looking a little too long into those eyes. But looking into her eyes didn’t begin to compare to the need to hold her. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he fought the part of himself that didn’t want to get back in that truck and drive away.

  She sighed and her lips parted, not an invitation, he didn’t think. No, she was probably going to say something. She probably should tell him to back off
or hit the road. Either of the two would work.

  A thinking man would have given her a chance to say one of those two things. An idiot cowboy like him didn’t always think things through. Sometimes guys like him just had no sense at all and they acted.

  That’s what he did, he acted, freeing his hands from his pockets and tangling them into masses of brown curls that smelled like wild flowers. He breathed deep as he leaned toward her. He hovered for a second, giving her one last chance to send him packing. When she didn’t, he touched his lips to hers.

  For a long second she didn’t react, but then she moved and her hands touched his arms. He drank her in, steadying himself with one hand on the truck door behind her. Man, she was sweet. The kiss was sweet. Her hands moved to his back, holding him close. That was sweet.

  He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers because he couldn’t really breathe. Or think.

  And then reality came rushing back in, hitting him full force with a load of guilt and remorse. Those shouldn’t be the emotions a man felt after a kiss. She deserved more than a guy tied to the past.

  “I’m sorry.” He whispered close to her ear, wanting to pull her back into his arms. Instead of giving in, this time he stepped back.

  “Yeah, I knew you would be.” Pain flickered across her features, hard to miss, even in the dark.

  “What do you mean?” He jerked off his hat and swiped a pretty shaky hand through his hair.

  Her expressions changed to compassion. She reached for his hand. “I just kissed a married man.”

  He pulled his hand loose from hers, too aware of the wedding ring he’d never taken off, and aware of the message it sent. He shoved his hat back on his head and took a few smart steps back.

  It hurt to breathe and hurt worse to think about her words. She hadn’t moved away from his truck until that moment and as she stepped past him, she paused to touch his cheek, her smile was soft and sweet.

  “I know you loved her. You really don’t have to explain or apologize.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He said the words too late. She was halfway to the house and he was standing there like a fool. Her dog ran out of the house, past her to him. The big shepherd circled him a few times, growling. Her whistle called the animal off.

  The drive home didn’t take near long enough. He had two minutes to get it together. He felt like he needed two hours. Or two days. A man didn’t kiss a woman like that and just walk off.

  Rachel was the kind of woman looking for forever, not stolen moments at the end of the night. And Wyatt didn’t know if he’d ever want to do forever again. But he did have to think about the future and about the ring still on his finger.

  As he parked, lights flashed off in the upstairs room that belonged to his girls. He sat in his truck and watched as other lights came on. Violet waiting for him to come home.

  He needed to get his act together. He leaned back in the seat and stared at the barn, at the glimmer of moon peeking through the clouds. At stars glittering in the clear patches of sky.

  For eighteen months he’d been asking himself the question he had wanted to ask Wendy. Why had she left them? He let out a tight sigh that came from so deep inside him that it ached. Had she stopped loving them? Had she been unable to love them? He rubbed a hand across his face, clearing his vision.

  It was wrong to blame her. He’d even come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t blame himself. Now he had to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t coming back. Guilt, accusations, anger—none of that would bring her back.

  He put his hands on the steering wheel and the gold band on his left hand glinted. He raised his hand and shook his head. Maybe it was time to let her go, to move on with his life.

  Or maybe it wasn’t. He’d deal with one thing at a time.

  It took a minute to get the ring off, twisting and sliding it over his knuckles. His finger felt bare. His heart felt even worse. He slipped the ring into his pocket and opened the door of the truck.

  Violet walked out the back door. He walked across the yard, his vision blurred. He took in a deep breath and let it go.

  When he walked up the steps of the porch, Violet gave him space. She followed him inside and instead of asking questions she started a pot of coffee. Good thinking, because it looked like it might be a long night.

  When she turned, her eyes were misty and her smile trembled on her lips. “Are you okay?”

  “I am. Thank you for staying with the girls while I helped Rachel out.”

  “Where else would I be? Wyatt, you didn’t stop being my family when…” She bit down on her bottom lip and blinked a few times. “You’re my kid. Those are my sweet granddaughters up there. You’re all I have left of Wendy, and I don’t ever want that to end. No matter what happens in the future, I hope to always be your mom.”

  He hugged her and she eventually pulled away and reached for a tissue, pulling it from the box on the counter. She wiped her eyes and smiled.

  “Violet, I thank God every single day for you and you’ll always be in our lives.”

  “That’s good to know because I can really be a pain sometimes and I need people who will put up with me.”

  He laughed, and pulled two cups from the cabinet over the coffeepot. Violet sighed a little and he turned.

  “You took off your ring.”

  He looked at his left hand and nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

  Because of Rachel Waters. He didn’t have to explain that to Violet. He guessed she probably knew. She probably understood better than anyone else in his life. Maybe even better than he understood it himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  The dog slid through the door ahead of Rachel. She kicked off her shoes and pushed them up against the wall. She dropped her purse next to them. She hadn’t come in right away. After that moment in the yard with Wyatt, she had needed a few minutes to clear her mind and get it together before she faced her parents.

  As if she was still fifteen and trying to hide something.

  She was twenty-nine and really not a child.

  In reality she was a long, long way from childhood and innocence. She sat down at the kitchen table and moved a few pieces of the puzzle that had been there for days, unfinished. The painted faces of kittens on cardboard were scattered, unrecognizable. She found an edge and slid it into place.

  Her life was just as scattered, just as in pieces as that puzzle. She had kissed Wyatt Johnson. Her parents had decided to take the church in Tulsa and she couldn’t tell anyone until the formal announcement. She had to bury the pain of moving and leaving this place behind.

  She had to leave Wyatt and the girls. She hadn’t expected that to be the part that hurt the most. She hadn’t expected to feel anything for Wyatt other than sympathy.

  Surprise. The feelings were unexpected after years of holding back and waiting for God to bring someone into her life. She moved another puzzle piece and a ring on her own finger glinted in the soft light of the kitchen. A purity ring that she’d put on after some very bad relationship choices.

  She had made a promise to wait for God to bring someone into her life. She had made a promise to herself to stop pursuing and to wait for someone who loved her enough to pursue her. She figured the fact that she was nearly thirty said it all.

  “Hey, kiddo, how’s your car?” Her dad stood in the doorway, the tie from earlier in the day gone, but he still looked like Pastor Waters. She smiled and pushed the other chair out with her foot, an invitation.

  “It’ll have to go to the garage. The alternator finally gave up and died.”

  “I’ll have it towed to Grove tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  Robert Waters crossed the room and sat down across from her. She smiled up at him because this was a scene that had played out a lot in their lives, the two of them together with a puzzle between them. He started moving pieces and she did the same.

  “This move isn
’t what you want, is it?” He looked up, smiling a little. “You don’t have to go.”

  “I know that. I want to go.”

  He pushed a piece of the puzzle into place and they finally had an entire kitten. She was allergic, so this was the closest she got to fuzzy felines.

  “Rachel, promise me you’ll tell us the truth. If you don’t want to leave, you shouldn’t. You know that Etta would gladly let you stay with her.”

  “I know that, but Etta isn’t my family.”

  “No, she isn’t.” He piled up gray puzzle pieces that went to the gray kitten she was working on. Rachel reached and took one that might fit.

  “Dad, I’m okay with this.” She smiled because she was okay. It wasn’t her first move and she knew that moves were never easy. But she was okay. She would adjust.

  She was used to leaving places, leaving people. Doing the right thing didn’t always mean the right thing felt good. Sometimes doing the right thing was difficult.

  Her dad stood up. Before he walked away, he leaned to kiss the top of her head. “Your mom said to tell you goodnight and she loves you.”

  “Right back at her.” She reached for his hand to stop him from walking away. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I always do. That’s part of being a parent. We want our children to be happy.”

  She nodded but this time she didn’t answer. She didn’t know how to respond to being happy. Her heart had gone into rebellion and suddenly wanted something she knew she couldn’t have.

  The best way to get her heart into check was to explain to it that she had just experienced something that everyone experiences: a goodnight kiss. It had been nothing more and nothing less, just a kiss at the end of a sweet evening with a man who might possibly be a friend.

  To make it anything more than that was a mistake. Like telling him he was still wearing his wedding ring. She cringed a little because it wasn’t her place to point that out to him, not a man who had been kindness itself. He had kissed her goodnight. It wasn’t as if he’d proposed.