“I don’t care for that answer. Got any more?”
“Only one. Agree with me that Sunday is the end of it. Promise me you’ll stop pushing for more.”
His mood dimmed considerably, but the light in the room was brighter, now. Her expression left no doubt that she was serious. And she had a right to call the shots. He could either agree or sleep on the couch.
He dragged in a breath. “I promise. Sunday it is.” Rolling over, he got out of bed and reached for his jeans. “I’ll make coffee.”
The kitchen was pretty much a mess. They’d bagged up the garbage, put that in the can outside and left the blue enamelware and utensils in a sink of soapy water.
The partially unpacked saddlebags hung over the back of a kitchen chair. The quilt lay on another one, the windbreakers on a third. The bag of cookies sat on the kitchen counter next to a row of empty cider bottles. They were rinsed out but hadn’t made it to the recycling bin yet.
He’d deal with all of it later. Last night he’d suggested that Val skip helping him feed this morning. She’d insisted on doing it. Thanks to their pillow talk this morning, they were running late.
He could skip shaving and a shower so they’d get done feeding in time to come back here for breakfast. She’d need the protein since she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep.
His mom wouldn’t have slept much, either, if the tales of those sleepovers were to be believed. Ed might have exaggerated some, but the Brotherhood had verified that bawdy karaoke sessions often lasted into the wee hours.
When the coffee pot quit gurgling, he carried a mug into the bedroom. Sweet-smelling steam drifted from the open bathroom door but the shower was no longer running. She’d be drying off, now.
Two more mornings. “Your coffee’s on the top of the dresser. Thought you’d like to get a head start on it.”
“Thanks!”
“Anything I can do?”
“You aren’t going to shave?”
“I’ll shave and shower later.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want me to shave?”
“No, I— never mind.”
He wasn’t in the mood for never mind. “What?”
“Either way is fine. You look sexy with the scruff but I love watching you shave.”
Well, now. “Sounds like a win-win to me. I’ll go with the scruff for now.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
“To repeat — anything I can do? I mean, anything that won’t slow us down?”
“You could talk to Florence.”
“Seriously?”
“No, she likes it better when you joke around.”
“Val.”
“I make it a practice to talk to her every morning, give her some carbon dioxide to start her day. If you’d do that, and check her soil to make sure it’s moist, that would save me some time.”
“You’re putting me on, but I’m gonna do it.”
“I’m not, either!”
“If you need anything else, I’ll be in the living room chatting up Flo. Because I’m just that confident in my masculinity.” Walking out, he continued into the living room.
“How’re you doing, Florence?” He crouched down next to the coffee table and dipped his finger into the moist soil. “Good, I’d say.” Lifting his finger, he brushed the black crumbs back into the pot. “You add a nice bit of color to this spot, by the way.”
Florence just sat there looking green.
“Here’s a funny story for you. Val brought you to help convince my mom that a woman lives here. She hauled a big pile of clothes over, too, for the same reason. And her regular shampoo and conditioner instead of a travel size. A few romance books, too, which she hasn’t cracked. I was hoping she’d read one of them to me. Especially the juicy parts.”
Florence didn’t so much as turn a leaf. Her expression remained epically serene.
“I wonder why she reads romance. Do you know? Given her views on the matter, I’m not sure it makes sense. But there you have it.”
He gazed at the plant. “Here’s the punch line to that long story. My mom hasn’t set foot in here. You’d think she’d be eager to see me cohabitating with a woman at long last. You’d think she’d have dropped several hints about it. Nope.”
Flo said nothing.
“See? You can’t explain it, either. True, we’ve been busy, but still… I would have expected her to come up with a reason to scope out—” He glanced up as Val walked in carrying her mug of coffee. “Flo and me, we’re shooting the breeze.”
She smiled. “I could hear you. Good job.”
“She’s a great listener. I was just telling her that we added all these things to the house for my mom’s benefit and she hasn’t seen any of it.”
“I thought of that yesterday. I offered to pick her up and I honestly expected her to suggest walking down here. It would have been a golden opportunity to get a peek at our living arrangements.”
“I’m kinda glad she didn’t suggest it, to tell the truth. We’ve got stuff scattered all over the kitchen.”
“I know.” She polished off her coffee and headed into the kitchen with her empty mug. “Let’s get a move on so I can help you clean up before I leave.”
“Nah, I’ve got it. I’m more interested in cooking up a nice breakfast so you’ll have plenty of energy for those munchkins.” He grabbed his hat and ushered her out the door.
“Are you still planning to oil the saddlebags this afternoon?”
“Are you still in the mood to help me?”
“Yes, I am.”
That gave him a lift. “Then we’ll do it.”
She put on her hat as she walked down the porch steps. “I’m losing track. Is anything scheduled for tonight?”
“When Ed told me they were staying at the Buckskin for the sleepover, she said to plan on a quiet dinner tonight at her house followed by an early bedtime for the two of them.”
“Do you think your mom will be up to going to my school today? I hate to drag her along if she—”
“You couldn’t keep her away. She lives for stuff like this. Besides, after the girls cheered when they heard she was coming, she’ll guzzle as many energy drinks as necessary to be present for those kids.”
“Alrighty, then.”
“Gonna read me a romance book tonight?”
She gave him a long look. “Why?”
“I’ve always been curious about what’s in them.”
“Romance.”
“Shocker.”
“And if you’re wondering why someone like me, who has issues with the whole love and marriage deal, is reading romance…”
“It crossed my mind.”
“If you’d asked about it a few days ago I’d have said I like the historical detail, but they’re not all set in the past, so that doesn’t hold water. I might have said I like reading about places I’ve never been, but that’s probably a copout, too.”
“Then why are you reading them?”
“Therapy.”
Chapter Thirty
On the way to pick up Tatum and Piper, Madeline regaled Val with some of the doings of the sleepover. “I cleared all this with Ed before telling you. I didn’t want to reveal anything I shouldn’t.”
“I think by now everyone knows about the bawdy karaoke songs. Adding tap dancing to the karaoke shouldn’t surprise anybody.”
“I had a blast. A couple of them could become decent tappers if they choose to practice. Unfortunately, they want to dance to those bawdy songs, which means no public performances.”
“A new twist to Dirty Dancing.”
“No kidding. Loved that movie. To think you weren’t even born when it came out.”
“But I’ve seen it. The eighties had a lot of good movies. I love just about everything John Hughes directed.”
“Me, too! We should binge-watch John Hughes movies sometime.”
“Sounds like fun.” She wasn’t making that up, but she couldn’t see it happening. There was
a better chance of the Babes tap dancing to bawdy songs in public.
“What did you and Teague do last— oh, never mind. That’s nosy. You don’t have to tell me.”
“I can tell you. We took Nugget and Silver for a trail ride and had a cowboy cookout in a meadow by Crooked Creek.”
“What a great idea. There was even a full moon.”
“Yep.” Too bad they ruined the ambiance with an argument.
“He loves being outdoors. Naturally I was hoping he’d decide to teach, but I learned pretty quick that he’d hate being stuck in a classroom.”
“But he is teaching as a sideline.”
“And I was proud as punch watching him yesterday. He has a kind, gentle approach. Aren’t the riding lessons how you two met?”
“Yes.”
“And you were a beginner?”
“Very much so.”
“You don’t look like one, now. I’d like to claim it’s because Teague’s an excellent teacher, but I’m guessing you have some natural abilities.”
“Evidently I do. It was a complete surprise to me.”
“But it’s no surprise you and Teague hit it off right away. Ed told me he jumped the gun with the proposal and I thought déjà vu all over again. Wes did the same thing. Only difference is I said yes. My parents had a fit but I defied them. We went full speed ahead, damn the torpedoes.”
“I guess I’m more cautious than you.”
“I’m not advocating that approach, believe me. We didn’t know each other well at all. Our marriage could have been a total disaster. We lucked out.”
“I’m glad.” How interesting Madeline viewed it that way since her husband died so young.
“Before we pick up Tatum, I wanted to throw something out there.”
“Sure.” Her gut clenched. “But we’re only about three minutes from her house.” Was Madeline going to challenge the authenticity of this engagement now? Lousy timing if she was.
“This won’t take long.”
“Then go for it.”
“When I was teaching fulltime, my buddies and I had a tradition when we set up our rooms and I miss it. But you don’t have to do this to please your future mother-in-law. It’s just an idea.”
Val relaxed. Not about the engagement. “Let’s hear it.”
“About five of us would organize our rooms on the same day. When we finished, we’d cue up Gloria Estefan on somebody’s phone. Then we’d form a conga line and dance up and down the hall. Usually we grabbed a few more teachers along the way. Do you think the girls—”
“Would love it? That’s a no-brainer. Since you’re the one with the dancing credentials, you should teach them to conga. I predict it’ll take about thirty seconds.”
“Yippee! I thought of this on the drive over from Eugene and hoped you’d like it. Having kids involved will make it even more fun.” She gave Val a glance. “I see you ditched the bandana.”
“I don’t expect to sweat, so makeup does the trick.”
“Coming up with bandanas for everyone was very creative.”
“I have my moments.”
“You’re a talented lady, Val. It’s easy to see why Teague is smitten.” The words were lovely and the tone kind.
Guilt swamped her. “Thank you. I think he’s great, too.”
Val called for a vote before they started. Nell’s room first or hers? It was unanimous. Nell’s, or rather Miss O’Connor’s, would be first because third grade came before fourth.
Nell and the girls reminisced as they worked. Remember when Shayla knocked over the bottle of glue and the floor was sticky for days? When Tony brought his pet mouse for show-and-tell and it got loose? When Riley brought one of Mister Rogers’ shoes, dropped it on Miss O’Connor’s foot and broke her little toe?
Val didn’t mind the walk down memory lane that didn’t include her. Her epic adventures with these precocious kids were ahead of her, waiting to be discovered.
Spending the summer sharing riding lessons with them would make the school year even richer. Teague was right. She had to continue those lessons, for her sake as well as theirs.
Setting up her room always started with the music that would go with each area of study. Last night’s ride had inspired her to switch things up a bit and start with her Native American unit. Red River Valley was one of the cornerstones.
Last year she’d used tea to create a page that looked old and calligraphy to hand-write the lyrics. The girls were fascinated.
“I love this writing.” Piper traced it with a finger. “Can we learn this?”
“The song or the calligraphy?”
“I wanna learn both.” Riley spread her arms wide.
Claire studied the words. “There’s a story here.”
Val smiled. “Indeed there is. More than one is connected to this song.”
“We could make a play!” Tatum hopped up and down. “Can we make a play out of it, Miss Jenson?”
“Great idea.”
“A great idea.” Riley twirled around. “We can do it on stage in the auditorium. Auntie Madeline, you have to come for it!”
She chuckled. “Of course I do. Just let me know the date and I’ll be here in a flash.” Moments later, when the girls were discussing which color pushpins to use, she moved closer to Val and lowered her voice. “Teague does a nice version of this on the harmonica.”
“I know.”
Madeline brightened. “He played for you?”
“He did. I gather the harmonica is somewhat of a private talent, but if I could get him to perform it for the class, that would be—”
“Who plays the harmonica?” Claire appeared out of nowhere.
“Um…”
“It’s Uncle Teague, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
Nearby, Nell glanced her way and lifted her eyebrows in surprise.
Claire crossed her arms and huffed out a breath. “He never told me. Why not?”
“He’s kind of private about it,” Madeline said.
“But he could team up with Uncle CJ.”
“Who could?” Riley came from the far side of the room, followed by Piper and Tatum.
“Uncle Teague plays the harmonica, but you can’t tell anybody. It’s a private thing.”
They all nodded solemnly.
“Except a harmonica goes great with a guitar. Uncle Teague and Uncle CJ would be so cool together. I’m gonna talk to him about it.”
Val put a hand on her shoulder. “Not everybody wants to be in the spotlight, Claire.”
“I know. Everybody’s not like me. My dad says that all the time.” Her brow furrowed. “Okay, maybe not on the town square during the Labor Day celebration, but at least around the fire pit for the Buckskin gang. I know everyone would love that.”
“She’s right,” Nell said. “Especially CJ. He’d get a charge out of having a sidekick. It does seem a shame not to at least mention it to Teague.”
He might just need a nudge, like when one of the wranglers had coaxed him into it before. And he loved hanging out with the Brotherhood. “Then I’ll say something to him.”
Claire glanced up and smiled. “Good idea, Miss Jenson. He’d do anything for you.”
Her breath hitched. Yes, he would. Anything at all. And that included walking away.
Val couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. Her room looked great and the girls couldn’t wait to start school and create their Red River Valley play. Madeline’s conga line as a grand finale to the room prep was a hit.
Then lunch at the Moose turned into a celebration after Piper shyly mentioned that her birthday was the following week. Madeline insisted on paying for the entire meal and the chocolate layer cake.
Because nobody working that shift was adept at cake decorating, it appeared with candles and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PIPER written on a sticky note attached to a skewer. She loved it.
After lunch, the girls piled into Nell’s SUV for their overnight at the Buckskin. They’d spend the next mornin
g braiding manes and tails in preparation for the riding demonstration.
As Val drove away from the Moose, she looked over at Madeline. “You must be bushed.”
“I’ll probably take a nap when we get back. But I wouldn’t have missed any of this for the world. Thank you for including me.”
“Of course! It’s been a terrific day. I’ll bet the conga line will turn into a thing at Apple Grove Elementary. You might have to…” She caught herself before she said come back for this next year. “I don’t think I have any Gloria Estefan tunes on my phone. You might have to show me which album to buy.”
“As opposed to me coming back next year?”
“Um…”
“That’s what you started to say, isn’t it?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Val, it’s time.”
Here we go.
“Please tell me what’s really going on with you and my son. Starting from that first riding lesson.”
Heart pounding, she nodded. Then she spilled her guts, leaving nothing out except the details of their lovemaking. Sometimes she had to stop and clear the guilty sadness from her throat.
Even though she didn’t turn her head to look at Madeline, her peripheral vision gave her plenty of info. Teague’s mom sat quietly, her gaze steady, her body language relaxed, the stance of a woman who was absorbing every word. Without judgment.
When the tale was finished, leaving Val drained and sweaty, Madeline put a hand on her shoulder and gave a little squeeze. “Thank you. That wasn’t easy.”
“No. But it’s a relief. I hope you know how much Teague loves you. He just—”
“He went into self-preservation mode. I understand. I made my move because I sensed something was wrong. I heard it in his voice. Seeing him in person was the only way I could get to the bottom of it.”
“Would you have moved here?”
“Oh, yeah. Not permanently, but I would have stayed until I’d figured out the issue and whether there was anything I could do about it.”
“Clearly you’ve not blaming him. And I hope someday you’ll forgive me for—”
“There was never any blame to start with. For him or for you. Maybe for me.”
Marriage-Minded Cowboy Page 16