That Cowboy's Kids

by Debra Salonen

  “We brought a sunshade,” Angel said, helping Ed to dump the various aluminum tubes and canvas awning on the ground. “Hi, Abby.”

  “Hello, Abby. Why didn’t you call us sooner, Tom?” Ed asked, surveying the situation with a grin. Not waiting for an answer or a greeting, he said, “‘Course, that’s not the way to handle a cat stuck in a sewer pipe, you know.”

  Tom climbed to his feet, brushing off globs of mud. “Really?”

  “Yep, just leave it be…”

  “Now, Ed, just hold your mouth,” Janey scolded. “‘Morning, Abby, you look nice and cool, despite the heat.”

  Abby looked down as if just then realizing what she was wearing. Her face flushed red. “I was gardening when Heather called,” she said, plucking at the fabric that clung so provocatively to her breasts. “I didn’t stop to change, just jumped in the car.” As if to divert attention from herself, she asked, “Should you be out in the sun? It’s hotter than blazes.”

  “Damn right,” Ed said, scowling, “but the darn woman won’t take it easy. Tom, give me a hand here.”

  The last thing Tom needed was an audience.

  “I’ll do that,” Abby said. “My brother’s got a sunshade just like this.”

  A glimpse of white bottom beneath a fringe of shorts when she bent over to pick up the aluminum poles made Tom’s knees buckle. “We don’t have to turn this into a sideshow,” he muttered. “Angel, shimmy down the ladder and call the cat. When she pokes her head out, grab her,” Tom said, pointing to the hole.

  Angel looked at him as though he’d just sprouted a second head. “Me? No way. Uh-uh. I’m not going down some smelly hole.” She backed away from him, eyes flashing.

  Normally, Tom might have paid more attention to Angel’s pallor and odd reaction. After all, she’d always been part tomboy ready to jump into any kind of foolish danger. But today, heat and hormones blurred his observation skills. “It’s not smelly. It’s brand-new. Besides, you’re not going all the way in it. Just a few steps down the ladder.”

  She eyed the muddy, boxlike gap like a young colt ready to bolt. “No. I won’t do it. You can’t make me.” Her tone was shrill with a tremor of hysteria.

  Abby, who was anchoring one slim post upright while Heather and Janey held two other corner posts, abandoned her post and rushed to Angel’s side. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said, stepping between Angel and the hole. “Lot’s of people are afraid of small spaces. It’s called claustrophobia.”

  Angel’s back stiffened. “I’m not afraid of anything, but I’m not going down that hole.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  Abby looked at Tom. “Let me do it.”

  Tom’s frustration level rose a notch. Not only should Abby not be here, she had no business interfering with him and his daughters. “No. Angel can do it. It’s not dangerous.”

  Abby put her hands on her hips and gave him an exasperated look. “Tom, you’re being unreasonable.”

  Janey suddenly appeared at Tom’s elbow. “This sun is getting to be too much for me, after all, Thomas. Heather, dear, let’s go inside and try to sweet-talk your kitty out on that end. She’s a girl, right?” Heather, who hovered near Janey’s leg, showing her usual signs of unease when tempers started to flare, nodded vigorously. “Well, sometimes girls need a little wooing. Let’s go try.”

  Tom wondered if that last hint was for his benefit. An image of Lesley flashed into his head. “You can be so damn stubborn, Tom Butler,” Lesley used to say. “When you get something stuck in your head, I need dynamite to change your mind.”

  “All right, be my guest,” he said to Abby. “But if you fall—”

  Abby gave Angel a quick squeeze then moved to his side. Together they walked to the edge of the hole. Tom looked at Abby and realized in a flash of insight she was as terrified of the prospect of going into that small, dark space as Angel was. She squared her shoulders and flashed him a brave smile. “Okay then. Let’s do it.”

  Tom’s heart melted, and he knew in that instant he loved her. He opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden shout stopped him. “Daddy. Daddy,” Heather’s high-pitched voice called. Tom looked over his shoulder and saw her running toward them, a tiny glob of fur squeezed against her chest. “She came right out of the toilet, Daddy. Esmy’s safe.”

  Tom’s head pounded and his heart hurt. It could have been heatstroke, but he was afraid it was more permanent than that. He turned to Ed, who was leaning against the half-assembled sunshade. The older man seemed highly amused about something.

  “I think you’re right about checking on the herd, Ed. I’ll take off as soon as we have this situation under control,” he said. Ed’s suggestion last night to take a couple of days in the mountains had fallen on deaf ears, but that had been then. Now he needed some time alone to get his thoughts together. “I hate to ask, but could you and Janey watch the girls overnight?”

  “They could come home with me,” Abby said before Ed could answer. “Donna’s visiting her son and Melina’s on a cruise. I don’t have any plans and I’d love the company. Really.”

  Tom hesitated—not on behalf of his children.

  “I have to stop by and feed Donna’s cat, but she has a pool. Do you guys swim?” she asked the girls.

  Their whoops of joy made Tom flinch.

  “And we could pick up pizza and some movies,” Abby went on. “It’ll be kind of like a slumber party.”

  “Sounds cool. Can we, Dad?” Angel asked, not quite meeting Tom’s gaze.

  Tom knew she was embarrassed about her earlier scene. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a hug.

  “Looks like you’re outvoted, boy,” Ed said, guffawing. “As we say in the fishing business, it’s time to cut bait ’n go home.”

  Tom recognized the truth in the older man’s words. Unfortunately, this time he was the fish, and he was hooked good.

  BY SATURDAY EVENING Abby’s family-room carpet resembled a war zone between the Popcorn Fanatics and the Jelly-Belly Coalition. The glass-and-cherrywood coffee table had been pushed aside to accommodate two young bodies and Abby’s cat, Tubby, wooed against his better judgment by bits of lime candy and eager affection.

  “I like the Mulan bedspread best,” Heather said, using elbow jabs to secure a better position over the pile of magazine clippings.

  A manila envelope filled with decorating ideas gleaned from glossy magazines and a scaled-down floor plan of the girls’ new room had arrived in the mail while Abby was at the ranch.

  “Too red,” Angel argued, nudging Heather’s paper bed out of the way. “I like this one—pink and green. Pretty, without being geeky. What do you think, Abby?”

  From her perch on the couch, Abby eyed the arrangement. “Very feminine. You have a good eye for color, Angel. The Mulan print is pretty, too, Heather, but it’ll be out of style as soon as the next Disney movie comes out. I doubt if your dad will want to fork out the cost for a new one every year. And, remember, girls, my mother never sent a price list with these cutouts. Knowing her, I bet they were clipped from the ritziest magazines on the market.”

  Angel sighed. “You sound just like my dad.”

  “Do I?” The comparison made Abby smile. Abby regretted the awkward stiffness between her and Tom that hadn’t been there before their fateful kiss, but she could hardly blame him, since she’d gone out of her way to maintain a professional detachment. Then, something had happened during their tussle over who was going into the septic tank. His attitude changed. He seemed resigned about something. What it was, she hadn’t a clue.

  Abby glanced at her watch. “Six bells. I’d better start the pizza. You guys ready for our appetizers?”

  Too absorbed in their planning to answer, both girls nodded.

  Abby headed for the kitchen. Not unscathed in the youthful occupation, the usually pristine countertops displayed a collection of juice bottles, popcorn bowls, an unopened box of sugarcoated cereal that made Abby’s teeth ache just looking at it, and three plastic video boxes.
So far, they’d only watched one movie about twins who try to get their divorced parents back together. Heather liked the funny parts; Angel seemed intrigued by the romance between the father and mother.

  Abby and Angel had carried on a rather in-depth discussion about divorce while sharing a bowl of popcorn. “People who have children shouldn’t get divorced,” Angel maintained. Heather and the cat were stretched out a few feet away on the floor in front of the entertainment center.

  “I’m sure they all wish things had worked out differently,” Abby said. “A big part of my job is counseling victims of domestic abuse. I tell them no one should stay in a relationship where one person bullies the other, children or no children.”

  “That didn’t happen with my mom and dad.”

  “No, of course not. Your dad is kind and gentle and very big-hearted. Whatever happened between him and your mom stemmed from something else that made them unhappy. Believe me, there are as many reasons for divorce as there are people.”

  Angel fiddled with the remote and in a low voice said, “Maybe if they’d stayed together, she’d still be alive.”

  Impulsively, Abby put her arm around the young girl’s shoulders and squeezed. “Hasn’t Donna told you about the troublemaker words?”

  Angel sniffed and shook her head.

  “Woulda, coulda, shoulda and if. She has a story about each of them. Let’s take ‘if.’ Haven’t you heard the old saying ‘If the dog hadn’t stopped to pee, he’d have caught the rabbit’?”

  “Yeah,” Angel said, grinning. “Dad says it all the time.”

  “Well, if you’re the dog, that’s a bad thing—you go hungry, but if you’re the rabbit, you get home safely and everybody’s happy. Either way, what happened happened and there’s no going back, so if isn’t a very useful word, is it?”

  Angel smiled and nestled comfortably against Abby’s shoulder until the movie ended, then she plopped belly-first on the floor to help her sister spread out the clippings. Abby didn’t know if her words had helped in any way, but she felt a bond between them that hadn’t been there before.

  The phone rang as Abby pulled the take-’n-bake pizza out of the refrigerator. She set it on the counter, picked up the portable and walked back to the oven to adjust the setting. “Abby Davis.”

  “How spontaneous are you?”

  Abby’s heart plummeted. Tom was miles from a phone, but one part of her had hoped it might be him.

  “Hi, Daniel. What’s up?”

  “You. Me. A little waterskiing?”

  Abby glanced out the window. Long shadows were creeping across the lawn. Sunset may have been a couple of hours off, but the nearest lake was forty minutes away.

  “Tonight?”

  “Not exactly. I thought we’d drive to my cabin at Big Bear, spend the night, then go skiing right after breakfast…unless something better comes up.” The message couldn’t have been clearer.

  “I have houseguests this weekend, Daniel. Angela and Heather Butler.”

  “That cowboy’s kids?” His tone sounded petulant, little-boyish.

  “Yes. We’re having a slumber party.”

  He grumbled something about “juvenile escapism” before hanging up. I’ve got to clear the air about this next week, Abby told herself. How could she date Daniel when his kisses left her cold, while Tom’s one kiss haunted her dreams and played havoc with her mind?

  Abby replaced the phone and popped the pizza—half plain cheese and half mushroom, red peppers, olives and salami, into the oven. When she turned around, Angel was standing in the doorway.

  “I DIDN’T MEAN to eavesdrop, but…did you just blow off a date because of us?” Angel asked. So far, she’d had a pretty decent time at Abby’s, and she sensed Abby liked having them there, but she’d understand if Abby wanted to dump them off on Janey and Ed so she could be with her boyfriend.

  Abby poured cranberry-kiwi juice into one wineglass and white wine into another and motioned to a stool. Angel slipped into it and reached for the juice.

  “The man who called is my boss, and, although we’ve gone out to dinner a couple of times, I don’t think it’s a good idea to date someone you work with. I plan to make that clear to him on Monday.”

  Angel took a sip of juice, then asked, “Would that let my dad out?”

  The three plates in Abby’s hand clattered against the tile countertop. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You and Dad don’t exactly work together but you kinda got together because of your work and I just wondered if you’d go out with him…if he asked you.” Before Abby could answer, Angel went on, “I think he’s lonely. He says he’s too busy to be lonely and we’re all the company he needs, but Janey says men need women more than women need men.”

  “She does?” Abby transferred her chopping board and a bunch of parsley to the island, keeping her focus on Angel. It was one of the things Angel liked best about Abby—she paid attention. Adults rarely did.

  “Dad told you Janey hired me to help research her family tree, right?”

  Abby nodded. “Tom said you were helping out, but he didn’t say how,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “That’s awesome. Can I hire you next? My family tree’s a mess. There’s this whole limb that’s lost somewhere in Romania.”

  Angel smiled. One thing she knew about Abby was she didn’t say things she didn’t mean. “Beats doing nothing,” Angel said.

  “What about friends? Surely there are kids your age around?”

  “I hang out with a couple of girls at Rainbows, but that’s…different.” Angel didn’t try to explain, but she could tell by Abby’s nod that she understood.

  “Two summers ago, I met some girls at Bible camp, and Dad’s been bugging me to call them, but…” Angel couldn’t explain why she didn’t want to renew her old friendships. Maybe she was too weird to fit in now. After all, she didn’t have a mother.

  Abby seemed to hear what wasn’t said. “I know what you mean. It’s hard to pick up relationships after a period of time has passed. It’ll be even more awkward for your friends, too, because people are always afraid of saying something wrong. But it sure beats being bored to tears.” She took a sip of wine. “I used to live for summer vacation, then when it got here, I’d drive my grandmother up the wall moaning and groaning about not having anything to do.” Abby smiled and seemed to drift back in time a minute. “Do you know what she did one day? She carted me off to the library and told me, ‘Read all these books. That’ll give you plenty to do.”’

  Angel made a face. “Don’t tell that one to my dad. He already nags me about watching too much boob tube.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Angel took a drink of juice. Lately, it felt as though she couldn’t do anything to please her dad. He praised her for working with Janey but seemed disappointed when he came home and found the house a mess. He never complained, but Angel could tell he was disappointed.

  Janey said Tom was just overly tired from handling so much responsibility, but Angel thought it was something else. In the six months she’d been living at the ranch, he’d gone from his laid-back self to a grumpy old father. If her theory was right, Abby might be the one to help get her dad back to normal, and maybe even help salvage Angel’s summer vacation.

  “Janey said men aren’t emotionally equipped to raise a family alone.” Angel didn’t know if she believed that, but it got her thinking about how her dad felt about being stuck with her and Heather. Maybe he’d get desperate and marry the first woman who came along. Would she and Heather have any say in the matter?

  Abby handed Angel a paring knife and two lemons. “Would you please cut them into wedges for our shrimp?” She nibbled on a piece of parsley, then said thoughtfully, “I’m not sure I agree with Janey. I think that some people just make better parents. Period. Your dad is miles beyond me in that respect.”

  Angel heard something sad in her tone. “How do you know? You don’t have any kids.”

  Abby’s face changed. Angel swo
re she could see a sad, haunted look in her eyes, like how her dad looked when he talked about her mother. The look disappeared in a flash and Abby said brightly, “I’ve observed a lot of families over the years, and as far as I can see, your dad’s doing a great job of parenting.”

  “I know,” Angel said grudgingly. She cut into the first lemon, breathing deeply of the clean citrus smell. She liked the smell of Abby’s house, in general. Little bowls of potpourri and scented candles added a feminine touch missing from her dad’s house. It made Angel homesick in a way she couldn’t explain, because Val had allergies so her mother had never bought fragrant things. But there were still the smells of the cleaning person and her mother’s perfume and something intangible Angel couldn’t name but missed just the same. “I’m not complaining. But I know Dad had to change his whole life because of us. I don’t know how much he dated before, but having two kids can’t make it any easier getting a date.”

  Abby laughed in that way that always made Angel want to laugh, too. “Are you kidding? Two kids as neat as you and your sister are pure gravy. He’ll be beating women off with a stick once he’s ready to start dating.”

  Angel lined up the lemon halves and cleanly quartered them. She glanced up to find Abby looking at her. Abby was beautiful, not like a model but in a real way. She was a good person and she seemed to like them. Angel had been thinking about it for a couple of weeks, and she’d decided if her dad had to have a woman in his life, he could do worse than Abby. Then, this septic-tank thing today clinched it. Angel almost cried with gratitude when Abby took her side. It was almost as if Abby knew that looking at that black hole made Angel think of her mother’s grave.

  “You never answered my question. Would you date Dad if he asked?”

  Abby’s cheeks colored and she stuttered, “I…um, it would be very unprofessional of me to…that is…”