The Renegade Cowboy Returns: The Renegade Cowboy ReturnsTexas Lullaby

by Tina Leonard

  “All right.” Cat snuggled into her father’s chest. “I think we better go. The old lady needs me a lot. She says I make her smile. And Chelsea just wants to get me ice cream so she can snoop around town and ignore her deadline. I better let her.”

  Gage laughed. “Think I’ll tag along, too.”

  “Really?” Cat perked up. “You have to work. Or Jonas might fire you. And then you’ll be out of a job again, and Mom says—”

  “Never mind,” Gage said, shaking his head. “I can afford an ice cream cone. Come on, Cat.”

  She tagged happily after him. They met Chelsea outside the barn, where she was sort of fluttering with a small packet of tissues.

  “I wasn’t crying,” Cat said, ignoring the tissues.

  “I know,” Chelsea told her. “Your father was sweating.” She handed them to Gage, and Cat snatched one from the packet, blowing her nose.

  “I’ll drive,” he offered. “Where’s Moira?”

  “Engaged in trying her hand at a vegetable lasagna.” Chelsea got into the truck, after Cat climbed in the middle. “She wants us to pick her up some mushrooms and squash. Cat, she wants you to swing by the library and pick up Macbeth.”

  “Great,” Cat said, but she wasn’t crying anymore.

  Kendall was right. Gage was going to have to make some drastic changes in the way he’d always viewed his life. It was no longer just him. And somehow he was pretty glad about that.

  “The thing about Jo in Little Women,” Cat said, “is that she always made up her own mind.”

  “It’s true,” Chelsea said. “She was independent.”

  “Like Tempest.”

  “I guess.” Chelsea sounded amused by the comparison. “I always wanted to be Amy.”

  “Why?” Cat asked. “She wasn’t as independent.”

  “But she got Laurie,” Chelsea said, and Gage smiled, thinking that was pretty funny for the spirited Irishwoman.

  “Hello?” his daughter said. “Spoiler? I’m only halfway through the book.”

  “Sorry.” Chelsea looked at her with a smile. “Thought you were moving on to Macbeth.”

  “Yeah, well. I like the March family.”

  “I did, too.”

  Gage was pretty lost with the whole conversation, though he got the basics. He also understood his daughter’s wistful longing, and why she fantasized about him and Leslie getting back together.

  “We’re kind of a family,” Cat said suddenly, shocking him. “An awkward family, but sort of one. At least for the summer.”

  Chelsea moved her head quickly, fixing her gaze out the window. Probably embarrassed. He was, too—but not completely.

  Cat had only spoken aloud what had crossed his mind, too.

  But it was just a fantasy—and as he’d told Cat, it was best to be practical.

  * * *

  “SO THE THING ABOUT Tempest,” Blanche said as she brought them root beer floats in Cactus Max’s, “is that the town itself is quiet. Friendly. We don’t have much excitement around here. Tempest the woman was all about excitement. So we asked her if we could use her image for the tourist trade, spice us up a bit.” Blanche grinned, her dark hair and eyes gleaming. “You know what sells. That’s why you keep asking about her. She stokes folks’ curiosity. I think that’s why she keeps to herself, to keep the mystery alive.”

  Gage appreciated Blanche censoring herself from saying sex sells, for Cat’s sake. It was true that people were drawn to fun, sexy things.

  He certainly was drawn to Chelsea.

  “But here, we’re quiet.” Blanche gave them each some paper napkins and shrugged. “We like quiet. The only disturbance we used to have was out at your place.”

  Gage glanced up from watching Chelsea. “Disturbance?”

  “Yeah. The old man didn’t like anybody. Wanted to keep his ghosts to himself. Kept out of sight, except when he needed something in town. Heard Jonas Callahan had to sweet-talk him for three years to buy him out.” Smiling, Blanche gave Cat a couple of peppermints. “The old man kept railing about the young cuss who’d been bugging him to sell. None of us were too sympathetic. The way he’d acquired all that land was making folks around him so miserable they eventually gave up. When the economy turned down, they had no reason to hang on. And he just kept buying them out. Said he hated having anybody around him, looking at him, spying on him.”

  The waitress laughed. “Funny thing was, when he was a young, randy fellow, he was madly in love with Tempest’s mother. In fact, I always suspected Zola Cupertino was his love child. But,” Blanche said, “they never got together at the altar, so I guess not. She hooked up with her ex, and that was bad for Zola. One day the old drifter died, and no one ever knew how that happened, really. Zola’s mom fell to drink. Zola became Tempest, and she went away for good. Hasn’t been here in maybe ten years.” Blanche shrugged. “Then the old man at your place died in that damn barn. And life changed for everybody.”

  “How did he die?” Chelsea asked.

  Blanche glanced at Cat, who was listening, her eyes round with fascination, as she sucked on her straw.

  “Meanness, I’m sure,” the waitress said airily. “Just plain meanness.”

  She went off. Gage patted Cat’s hand. “Macbeth’ll be a breeze after listening to town gossip, huh?”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. “I’m sure the story has been heavily embroidered.”

  “It’s certainly juicy.” Gage winked at her. “Remember, Ellen Smithers didn’t like the old man who lived at the ranch, either. Jonas said she wouldn’t sell him peacocks just because she didn’t like the old man.”

  Chelsea met Gage’s eyes. “Jonas could buy peacocks from someone else, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah. But he says hers are award-winning. And you know the Callahans. They have to do everything the hard way.”

  “You may have a point.” Chelsea smiled at Cat. “See how much fun writing in a journal is going to be? You could dream up all kinds of stories just from Blanche’s tales.”

  “My writing is going to be factual,” Cat declared.

  “A budding journalist,” Gage said, smiling at Chelsea. He liked her, more than he’d let on to Cat. But as he’d told his daughter, there wasn’t anything to worry about between the two of them.

  “Tomorrow we go to the rodeo,” he told Cat, who groaned.

  “You’ll come, too, won’t you?” she asked Chelsea. “You’ll need boots,” she added, wise with her three-day-old purchase.

  Gage watched Chelsea consider the invitation. Slowly, her eyes moved to Gage. “I’ll go,” she agreed.

  “Good,” Cat said.

  Good, Gage thought.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Santa Fe rodeo was fun, and the weekend flew by. Cat had a blast, although she wouldn’t admit it. She’d even taken a ride on a horse, clinging to her father as they cantered along. Traveling to Santa Fe had been relaxing. Chelsea had enjoyed seeing Moira have a good time, too. It felt as if Cat and she were becoming closer, almost like grandmother and granddaughter.

  It did Chelsea’s heart good to see that, because she knew her mother would never have a grandchild of her own. Chelsea didn’t see herself ever marrying. She pretty much knew she would stay single, and hopefully be busy as a writer.

  Maybe she was more like Jo March than she realized—although even Jo eventually had found the right man for her.

  But that was fiction. Happy endings were written to fit. Chelsea couldn’t see one of those prince-on-a-white-charger moments happening to her. Making love to Gage had been a stolen time. She would never have allowed herself to experience it if they hadn’t been alone together in a place where she could let herself be different from who she was.

  She understood Tempest so well. In a way, she was more Tempest than she was Jo March, more peacock or swan than sparrow.

  I’d feel more settled if I knew where we’d be in two months.

  It seemed as if the paperwork for her green card was taking forever. Chelsea
buried herself in her writing, the slate clean now that she’d thrown out her first ten chapters, which was cathartic, and kept herself from fretting over the what ifs.

  Then she found herself riding in Gage’s truck with her mom, Gage and Cat, heading out to Rancho Diablo for the big Fourth of July picnic. Wearing earphones, she wrote madly on her laptop in the backseat.

  The book, unlike her life, was proceeding as smoothly as ribbon now.

  She pulled out one earphone when she thought she heard her mother talking to Gage about their future in Tempest.

  “I can stay in the States longer than Chelsea can,” Moira said. “I haven’t been here as long. She came a few months before I did, so her visa is closer to expiring. But I wouldn’t stay here without her.”

  Beside her, Cat piped up. “You don’t want to go back to Ireland in the fall, Nana Moira. It’s colder there.”

  Chelsea smiled. Cat had taken to calling her mum Nana, since she said Moira was the closest thing to a real grandmother she’d probably ever have. Chelsea hadn’t asked, but she knew Gage’s mother was still alive. Obviously, he didn’t feel a desire to allow his mother and daughter to meet—yet.

  “It’s not so very cold,” Moira said. “It’s the dampness that bothers me more than anything, I think. That’s my guess from being here, anyway. It’s the only thing I can think of that’s different.”

  “You can always stay with me, Moira,” Gage said, and Chelsea’s heart spilled over, shocking her with the sense of deep gratitude she felt at his offer.

  “You don’t need an old lady around to watch over,” Moira said.

  “Nana, do you know you say yew when you say you?” Cat asked. “Anyway, Dad needs you. Your cooking is the best. You always fix something he likes.”

  Moira laughed. Chelsea started to put her earphone in, then hesitated.

  “It’s true,” Gage said, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove. Chelsea thought that tic meant he was really thinking over her mother’s situation. It touched her. “You’ve already applied for your green card, so yours may come before your visa expires. There’s no reason to go back, even if Chelsea has to. Jonas would never, ever expect you to leave Dark Diablo, or if you were more comfortable there, Rancho Diablo.”

  “I don’t want to ask. He’s already done too much for us,” Moira said steadfastly. “No, if Chelsea goes back to Ireland, I will, too. It won’t be forever.”

  Chelsea sneaked her earphone back in, catching Cat looking at her with wide eyes, silently saying Do something. Tell her it’s okay. Urging Chelsea to change her mother’s mind.

  It wasn’t so simple. But Chelsea understood that the girl had become very attached to Moira, and vice versa. Still, Cat would go back home to Laredo when school started, probably in the middle of August. Moira wouldn’t want to be here alone.

  “Wow!” Cat exclaimed as Gage pulled into Rancho Diablo. “Look at all the babies!”

  All the Callahan children were outside on the wide front lawn, inspecting a ring of walking ponies and a bounce house. Rancho Diablo was decorated for the Fourth of July, as Fiona Callahan always decorated for every holiday—with magical attention to fairyland detail.

  The number of babies and toddlers was astonishing when one first encountered the Callahan clan. Chelsea thought she’d remembered that there were eighteen children now, since Fiona’s plan to get her six nephews married with children had worked with phenomenal success.

  “That pony has my name on it!” Cat said, her tone surprised and delighted. “Dad? Is that pony for me to ride?”

  “You’re the only Cat,” Gage said, pulling the truck to a stop under an eave. “Let me introduce you to Fiona and Burke, who run this shindig.”

  “Look at all the kids,” Cat repeated, sounding very wistful to Chelsea’s ears, now completely unplugged. She wouldn’t have missed Cat’s joy for anything.

  Gage opened her door and Chelsea slid out.

  “Happy Fourth of July,” he said.

  She smiled, feeling his warmth touch her. “You, too. Your first one with your daughter.”

  “It’s pretty cool.”

  Cat came around the truck with Moira. “Let’s go, Dad!”

  Moira smiled. “I’m going to find Fiona. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Her mother hurried off, eager to visit with her friend.

  “C’mon, Chelsea,” Cat said, grabbing her hand. “You can’t write every minute!”

  “She has a point,” Gage said. “But don’t feel obligated.”

  Chelsea hesitated, not certain what to do.

  She and Gage had been spending a lot of time together. There’d been Colorado, then the rodeo in Santa Fe, now this family picnic. The more time she spent with him, the more she was aware that this couldn’t last, wouldn’t last. This summer was simply a snapshot in time for them all.

  He touched her hand, and she managed a brief smile. She did want to be with Cat. But she also wanted to be with Gage, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

  She decided to do what she wanted to most.

  “Let’s go check out that pony, Cat,” she said.

  Gage’s dark eyes glowed, and she sensed his pleasure. “Thank you,” he said softly as they followed his excited daughter.

  “No thanks necessary,” Chelsea said, with an airy dismissal she didn’t feel.

  * * *

  “I THINK I HAVE THEM straight,” Cat told her father. “The munchkins are little Joe, Sarah Colleen, Devon Bridget, Sharon Marie, Sam Bear, Judith, Julianne, Janet, Molly Mavis, Jennifer Belle, Lincoln Rose, Suzanne, Ashley, Grace Marie, Joy Patrice, Elizabeth, Molly, and Fiona. That’s in order of birthday. Alphabetically, they’re Ashley, Devon Bridget, Elizabeth, Fiona, Grace Marie, Janet, Jennifer Belle, Joe, Joy Patrice, Judith, Julianne, Lincoln Rose, Molly, Molly Mavis, Sam Bear, Sarah Colleen, Sharon Marie and Suzanne. Alphabetically, I’d come after Ashley, but by age, I’d be last ’cause I’m oldest.” She thought about it for a moment. “Did I leave anybody out?”

  Gage smiled, and Jonas shook his head.

  “You got them all. For now.” Jonas handed Cat a sparkler and lit it, grinning as widely as she did as she waved it around.

  “Fiona says all the kids are bedding down in the main house for story time. I’m invited, too. Bye, Dad!”

  Cat tore off after the group slowly making their way inside. Chelsea had gone to chat with the other ladies, the Callahan wives and good friends, as they enjoyed the holiday together.

  “So,” Jonas said, “now what?”

  “Now that I finally have your attention,” Gage said, “we need to make an appointment to get together and discuss the plans I’ve come up with for Dark Diablo.”

  “You’re going to tear everything down and start over,” Jonas said.

  “Exactly.” He nodded. “How’d you guess?”

  “Because it’s all fifty years old, and in bad shape, anyway. I don’t think the old man had done anything to the place in the last ten years.” Jonas shrugged. “I knew when I took it over that the project would be big. That’s why I hired you.”

  “Well, you’ve been plenty hard to tie down to a discussion of getting started.” Gage looked at his boss. “Sending me off on the peacock chase, for example.”

  He grinned. “You don’t look like you suffered too greatly.”

  “All right.” Gage hadn’t, but wasn’t going to give Jonas any reason to crow. “We need to go over some designs so I can get started.”

  Jonas rubbed his chin, then stretched out his legs as they seated themselves at one of the picnic tables. The fireworks were about to start, basic pyrotechnics run by the Callahan brothers, so the kids could watch from the windows inside. Then they’d have story time and bedtime.

  His boss seemed in no hurry to discuss anything about the job, and Gage told himself that it was a holiday, after all. Only he seemed to feel a certain urgency to get everything set in motion.

  “Gage.”

  “Still here.”
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  “The family of the old man who lived there called me.”

  Gage looked at Jonas. “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “They want to contest their father selling me the property. They feel he might have been coerced because he was elderly.”

  Gage blinked. “Can they do that after the sale and after the old man’s death? The estate was long settled, wasn’t it?”

  Jonas shrugged. “It’s the issue of them feeling he might have been swindled. They say he had some mental issues.”

  “And that you took advantage of him?” Gage laughed. “Jonas, I’ve seen you in action. You can be a formidable opponent, but I’ve never seen you bully anybody. Certainly not elderly people in poor health.”

  “Still. I’m wondering how much improving I should do to the property, since clearly the heirs are looking for money.”

  Gage’s heart sank. “I see.”

  “My brother Sam’s checking into all the hooks and land mines in this matter.”

  “Sam’s the one to do it,” Gage agreed. “He saved this joint when it looked like that might be impossible.”

  Jonas nodded, glancing around Rancho Diablo. “Confidentially, I’ve had an architect draw up plans for a hospital out at Dark Diablo. But that’s on ice, too, until I get this other problem nailed down.”

  “So I’m out of a job,” Gage said.

  “For the moment,” Jonas said, sounding cheerful. “You can work here, of course. We always need hands. And you could start building the horse program from here. In fact, it might be easier for you to begin here because we’ve got plenty of barn space.”

  Gage turned to his friend. “What about Chelsea?”

  Jonas looked toward the east as the first fireworks went up. From inside the house, they could hear the kids exclaiming with delight.

  “Chelsea and Moira can stay at Dark Diablo as long as they want. I need someone to watch the place. Houses tend to get problems and fall into disrepair when no one’s living in them, keeping them alive.”

  Gage nodded.

  “And Cat’s welcome either place, always.”

  Gage looked at him. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’ll let you know when the coast is clear. Now, let’s go inside and watch the women take pictures of the babies. Some of them have never seen fireworks before.”