It was the best thing he’d ever done, bringing a dozen kids from the shelter out here twice a month. They came from abusive homes and were living in a children’s shelter because there wasn’t any room in foster care. He wished they could come more often, but with just himself, Nora and Forest, he couldn’t handle any more.
“Is he here?” Nora asked.
Patrick glanced at his sister as she appeared beside him. He knew she was wondering if Davy Cooke was coming back today.
It had been last spring when the seven-year-old boy had stepped off the bus for the first time. Dozens of bruises were still evident on his small body from his mother and her boyfriend having used him as a punching bag. Patrick had trouble controlling his anger, ready to deal out his own brand of vengeance to the adults responsible. It had been the shelter counselor who’d told him how to handle Davy with kindness and love. That hadn’t been easy, either.
At first, Davy had been angry and unresponsive, but when he came around the horses, things began to change. Still, Davy’s biggest problem was that he challenged the rules, and as a result, he lost privileges. A visit to the ranch was a privilege.
He hadn’t been allowed to come to the ranch for a month.
A curly-haired blond boy stepped off the bus. He was in jeans that were too big and a faded T-shirt, but his wide smile erased the shabby look. The boy ran up to Patrick.
“Hi, Patrick. Hi, Nora. I got to come back.” Big brown eyes accented his freckled face.
“I can see that,” Patrick said. He gripped the boy by the shoulders. “So I take it you’re going to behave today,” he said in a stern voice.
Davy glanced over his shoulder at one of the counselors. “I will,” he promised. “Do I get to ride Daisy?”
Patrick knew the boy loved the seasoned mare. Maybe too much. He also knew how healing an animal could be for a kid, especially when it was all he had. Daisy had given a lot of love to kids.
“You’re in luck today, Davy, because that’s who I gave you.”
Cynthia came out of the house ten minutes later, eager to help. She saw the group of kids standing by the corral fence. Their age looked to be between seven and twelve years old. The high pitch of their voices told her of their excitement.
A cute little boy came up to her. “Who are you?”
“I’m Cyndi. I’m staying here for a while. What’s your name?”
“I’m Davy. I’m going to ride Daisy.”
She smiled. “You’re pretty lucky, she’s a nice horse.”
“She’s my favorite.” Davy smiled, revealing a gap in front of his mouth where a tooth had been. The boy studied her with questioning eyes. “Are you going to help us ride, ’cause we hafta have adult superbision.”
“Well, in that case, I guess I’d better help out.”
Cynthia looked toward the corral to see Nora leading two horses out of the barn.
“Cyndi, will you go and saddle Daisy?” She smiled down at the boy. “For Davy.”
“See, I told ya,” the boy cheered.
“Okay, you stay right here and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
It took Cynthia a little longer than usual because she wanted to double-check the tack. Then she led Daisy out to the corral where she found Patrick and Forest at the far end on a high wooden platform, helping one of the boys onto a horse.
The children wore helmets and stood in a line patiently, waiting for their turn on one of the six mounts.
Kevin came out of the barn, leading Ranger. He smiled. “So Patrick roped you into volunteering.”
“Actually it was Nora. But I’m happy to help.” She tugged Daisy in behind another horse, waiting to get to the stand and Davy. Patrick walked up beside her. His hat was cocked low on his head, and he was wearing a Tanner Ranch T-shirt the same as she had on. It just happened to look so fine covering his muscular chest and wide shoulders.
His voice drew her back. “Think you can handle a seven-year-old?”
She nodded, knowing that he was entrusting her with a big responsibility. “That is, if you just want me to walk Daisy around the corral.”
He finally smiled. “Just don’t let Davy talk you into anything more.”
“I can handle him.”
He gave her the once-over, causing her pulse to race. “No doubt.” He tugged on Daisy’s reins to bring the horse to the stand where Davy was waiting.
“Hi, Daisy,” the boy said as he petted the horse’s forehead. “I get to ride you.” The mare bobbed her head, making Davy giggle.
Patrick helped the boy climb into the saddle, then he buckled the safety strap and sent them off.
Both Forest and Nora were leading two horses with young children. They were all moving lazily around the corral. Kevin had an older boy named Mike on Ranger, teaching him the different commands.
“Go faster, Cyndi. I want to go faster.” Davy started kicking the horse’s sides, causing Daisy to pick up her pace. Cynthia quickly took charge and pulled back on the reins.
“No, you don’t, young man. We can’t go fast because I can’t go fast.”
“But Patrick can make his horse go real fast.”
“I’m not Patrick. I’m just learning to ride like you are.”
“You are? How’s come?”
“Because I wanted to learn.” She patted Daisy’s neck. “It’s fun.”
“Patrick says when us kids get really good he’ll take us on a trail ride.” He took a hand off the saddle horn and pointed toward the mountain range. “Up there. We’re going to build a campfire. Just like real cowboys. And I get to wear a cowboy hat and boots.”
Cynthia eyed the discount-store sneakers the child wore, and it tore at her heart. Never again would she complain about anything.
“Maybe if you ask Patrick, you can go with us.”
Cynthia couldn’t help but watch Patrick Tanner lift a little girl into the saddle. His face split into a wide grin and the girl smiled back. She could almost picture him doing the same thing with his own sisters.
“We’ll see.” She realized that she would like to go on a trail ride with them. She hadn’t been around kids much, and she saw today what she’d been missing. They looked at her with such awe, such wonder. Would she have felt like this if she’d become a teacher?
“Are you anyone’s mom?”
A familiar ache tightened in her chest at Davy’s question. “No, I don’t have any children.”
She thought back ten years to her one long-term relationship with Clark Madison. He’d wanted to get married. At the time she’d been twenty-five, and her movie career was at its peak. She’d thought they had plenty of time. But they hadn’t. Soon after that they broke up. The last she’d heard, Clark was married with three kids.
“My mom didn’t want me.” The words came out of Davy’s mouth as if he had resigned himself to that fact.
She didn’t know what to say. When those chocolate eyes lowered to hers, she wanted to pull him down from the saddle and hold him, comfort him. She swallowed hard, then turned away to see Patrick waving for her to bring Daisy over.
“Looks like we have to go back.” She tugged on the mare’s reins and led her to the stand where Patrick was ready to take Davy off.
The boy gripped the saddle horn. “I don’t want to get off.”
Patrick hesitated, but remained stern. “We’ve talked about this, Davy. Other kids need a turn.” He reached for the child, but Davy pulled back. Cynthia hurried around the platform.
“Hey, Davy, why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you Daisy’s stall.” She gave a sideways glance at Patrick and saw that he wasn’t happy about her stepping in. “We’ll make sure that it’s all clean for her when she goes to sleep tonight.”
The boy brightened. “’kay.” He gave Patrick a winning look.
Cynthia helped him from the saddle. “I’ll watch him.”
“You’d better,” Patrick warned. “Don’t let him talk you out of anything.”
Cynthia wouldn’t be
lieve that a small child could be such a handful, but Davy certainly was. He asked question after question, and insisted on knowing about anything and everything, Patrick being his favorite topic. No doubt a lot of hero worship there.
“Sometimes Patrick gets mad at me, but he never yells or hits me.” The boy sat on a bale of straw just outside the stall while Cyndi did the cleaning. She lifted the pitchfork and dumped the contents into the wheelbarrow.
“Even if I do bad things, he doesn’t hit me,” Davy said.
“That’s because he’s a nice man.”
“He doesn’t have any kids, either. Like you.” The boy lowered his head as he twisted a piece of straw. “I wish I could live here.”
“It’s pretty,” she agreed. “I wouldn’t mind staying here all the time, too. But we can’t always have what we want.”
“That’s what Nancy says. She’s my counselor.” He smiled. “She took me away from my house.” Those big brown eyes bored into hers. “I can’t see my mom anymore. She was bad and went to jail.”
Cynthia put her pitchfork down and sat beside the boy. “I’m sorry, Davy.” She hugged him close, feeling tears gather in her eyes.
He finally pulled away, then climbed off the bale and carried some handfuls of fresh straw into the empty stall. “If I lived here, I would work all the time and take care of the horses, and I’d never say another bad word ever.”
Cynthia fought a smile. “Do you say bad words?”
“Sometimes when I get really, really mad.” He looked at Cyndi. “I didn’t say any today.”
Cynthia stood and caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. Patrick was leaning against the next stall. His expression didn’t tell her how much he’d heard.
He walked over to them. “Hey, Davy. Everyone is up at the house. Nora made some cookies.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Peanut butter?”
“Peanut butter,” Patrick agreed.
“Oh, boy,” he said and took off running toward the house.
Cynthia looked at Patrick. “He’s a great kid.”
“You’ve only seen him on a good day.”
“After the life he’s had, I can understand why he’s angry.”
Something flashed in Patrick’s gaze. “Life isn’t perfect for a lot of kids. Davy’s had it worse than most, but he’s in good hands now.”
“I know.” She came out of the stall. “You act real tough, but you’re a good man, Patrick Tanner.” She started toward him. She couldn’t seem to stop herself as she reached up and placed a light kiss on his lips. Before she could get away, he grabbed her and pulled her against him.
“You better be careful. A man could get the wrong idea.”
Oh, she wanted him to get the wrong idea, but knew it would only make matters worse between them. “I’ll try to restrain myself.” With the last of her willpower, she pulled back from his embrace and walked out of the barn. She had to get away from this man…and soon.
That evening, Cynthia decided she deserved a treat, so she headed for the swimming pool at the clinic. She loved their water aerobics class. It was the best workout and she stayed clean. After changing into her street clothes, she was headed to Dr. Richie’s seven o’clock seminar. She hoped to see Kelly there, too. Her sister didn’t think much of the doctor’s weight-loss plan, but went along. Cynthia liked being here because everyone was so positive and friendly, and after three days with Patrick Tanner, she needed her self-esteem boosted.
It was Dr. Richie who greeted her as she came into the auditorium. “Ms. Reynolds,” he called to her.
Cynthia usually hated being recognized, but Dr. Richie was different. His books and tapes had helped her be more comfortable with who she was. And in this clinic, she felt safe from judgmental people.
She greeted him with a smile. “It’s good to see you, Doctor.”
Daniel O’Callahan watched the two from across the hospital atrium. He couldn’t believe it was the beautiful actress Cynthia Reynolds. Wait until he told his grandmother. Maybe he could get an autograph.
He moved across the room just as the couple exchanged a handshake. The distinguished, gray-haired gentleman said goodbye.
“Goodbye, Dr. Richie,” Cynthia Reynolds said with a smile. Then she turned to Daniel. “Hello.”
He nearly swallowed his tongue. “Hi. I hate to bother you, Ms. Reynolds, but my grandmother is a patient here in the hospital and she loves all your movies. If it’s not too much trouble, do you think I could get an autograph?”
“Of course. It’s no trouble at all,” she said. She took a notepad from the table and scrabbled on it. “I hope she feels better soon.”
“I’m sure this will help.”
She smiled again and walked away. He followed her departure, a little surprised over her friendliness. A lot of movie stars avoided people. He glanced around the hospital waiting area, noticing that since he’d been spending a lot of time at Portland General for his grandmother, he’d been noticing that most everyone had been friendly. And not just to him, but to each other. Not just friendly hugs, either, but continuous touching and kissing. He’d noticed several other couples in the halls acting the same way.
Was something going on, or was it just the cop in him that made him suspicious?
Six
Where the hell had Cyndi gone?
Patrick paced his bedroom. The large room had once belonged to his parents, but for the past ten years, and after an extensive remodeling, he’d claimed it as his.
The walls were a golden tan and the woodwork trimmed in an off-white. The honey hardwood floors were bare except for a scattering of plush area rugs. His king-size bed was covered with a navy comforter and deep green pillows. A connecting bath gave him all the privacy he’d once needed in a houseful of women.
What once had been his private retreat now was anything but, since Cynthia Reynolds had invaded his home…his life.
And yet, he had no claim on her…so why should he let the fact that she’d gone into town bother him? If she wanted to find male companionship, he couldn’t stop her. He sure as hell didn’t have time to play games, to cater to her needs.
Cyndi was only a resource to help him get closer to his dream. She was paying him generously to teach her to ride a horse. Nothing else. Just because they’d spent one night together didn’t mean that he had any say about her actions.
Damn. He hated that she could stir him up like this. He glanced at the clock. It was after eleven and he suddenly realized there might be a totally different scenario. What if she’d been in an accident, or worse, and needed help?
He hurried from the room and down the stairs, then into the kitchen. Suddenly the door opened and Cyndi walked in.
“Where the hell have you been?” His gaze roamed over her, relieved that she was okay.
She gasped. “Patrick. You scared me.”
“Where have you been?” he repeated.
“I was in town.”
“Don’t you think you’re trying to squeeze in a lot of activity even for you?” Had she been with a man?
She placed her purse on the counter. “What are you talking about?”
“Look, I’m not going to waste my time with you if you’re not serious. If you’re going to be out all night drinking and picking up men—”
“Just stop right there,” she interrupted. “For one thing, I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.”
“How do you know? You weren’t here tonight,” he yelled, trying to control his anger. It wasn’t working. “I didn’t know where you’d gone. The next time you decide to go man-chasing, let me know.” His hands clenched into fists. He couldn’t remember ever being this angry. It frightened him, and worse, he could see the fear in Cyndi’s eyes.
He had to get out of there. Without a word he rushed out of the house and literally ran toward the barn. Once inside, he paced around as if he were a caged animal.
Patrick wanted to hit something. Anything. Suddenly, images of his fath
er’s drunken rages flashed in his head. Oh, God, his worst fears had come true. He’d turned into his old man. He marched back and forth along the aisle. Several of the boarded horses came to their stall doors, expecting some attention, but he ignored them.
He finally sat down on a hay bale and dropped his head into his shaky hands.
That was how Cynthia found him when she walked into the barn. She was a little shaky herself, but she wasn’t about to let Patrick walk away from her like this. The things he’d said had hurt her.
“Did you really think I was out picking up a man tonight?” She watched his back tense as she approached him. “And what business is it of yours if I had?”
He finally looked up. “Does it matter?”
“Yes. You seem to think that I make a habit of finding men. Well, I don’t.” She closed her eyes, wondering why she cared what he thought. But she did. “I hadn’t been with a man for over two years when I met you at Morgan’s Pub.”
He gave her a doubtful look, and it hurt.
She was angry now. “Why is it that men are never questioned when they take a woman to bed, but when women do it, they get reputations?” She studied him, finding she didn’t want him to think the worst of her. “I have no idea why I came up to you at the bar. But in the end, you wanted me just as badly as I wanted you that night.”
Patrick couldn’t deny it and he hated that she’d gotten to him. “This isn’t working, Cyndi. You make me feel…do things… I liked my life just as it was.”
“I liked my life, too. I told you that my career is my life. I still need to learn to ride. Now more than ever, since I talked with my agent today. I have an audition in a week.”
Her career was everything. Patrick needed to remember who she was. An actress. And a good one. “Maybe it would be best if Forest takes over.”
“No! The deal was that you teach me. You’re the best.”
Patrick raked his fingers through his hair, trying to control his frustration. “You don’t know, Cyndi. This has gotten way too personal.”
What a Man Needs Page 7