by Marin Thomas
“I could use a glass of lemonade,” Amelia said. Emmett offered his arm and the two walked off, leaving Gunner and Lydia behind.
“So much for chaperoning,” Gunner muttered.
“What do you mean?”
“Gramps asked me to come along today because he was worried your aunt would hoodwink him into making more changes in Stampede.”
Lydia considered spilling the beans about why she was invited, too, but didn’t think her aunt would appreciate her secret getting out.
Gunner removed his cowboy hat and set it on Lydia’s head. “Now you won’t burn.” He pushed the rim up an inch with his fingertip. “You look like a bona fide cowgirl.”
Blushing, she said, “The hat doesn’t exactly go with my peasant skirt and tank top.”
“Cowboy hats go with everything—didn’t you know that?” He took her hand and led her toward the entrance gate. “Are you thirsty or hungry?” His gaze dropped to her waist.
“Water would be nice.”
Gunner purchased two bottles of water. Then they strolled through the vendors, sampling the homemade country jams and salsas before checking out the jewelry makers and stopping to watch a man use a chain saw to carve bears out of lodge poles. When Gunner excused himself to chat with an older man, Lydia walked ahead and explored the handmade nursery furniture at another booth.
“This is lovely,” she said, examining the crib and matching cradle.
“My husband had a fit when I insisted on painting the pieces white instead of staining the wood.”
“The white gives it an airy, modern feel even though the design is vintage.” Lydia smiled. “The best of both worlds.”
“My thoughts exactly.” She held out her hand. “I’m Rachel.”
“Lydia. Nice to meet you.”
“Are you shopping for nursery furniture?”
“I will be.”
Rachel beamed. “Congratulations. When are you due?”
The question caught Lydia by surprise and she stumbled over her answer. “Oh, not for a while.” She ignored Rachel’s puzzled expression and examined a dresser.
“We could paint that to match the crib and the cradle,” Rachel said. “And there’s a toy chest included in the set.”
“Could your husband make a rocking horse?” Lydia pictured a miniature cowgirl or cowboy riding the toy horse.
“We do custom orders.” Rachel held out a business card.
“Do you ship out of state?”
“It would be expensive. You might be better off renting a U-Haul and driving the furniture to wherever you live.”
“I’ll think about it. It was nice talking to you.” It wasn’t until she walked past several more vendors that she realized she hadn’t asked the cost of the furniture—not that it mattered. She couldn’t afford to buy anything until she landed a few new business accounts.
“Sorry about that,” Gunner said when he caught up with her. “Joe used to rodeo with my father.”
“Your dad rodeoed, too?”
“Yep.” He guided her away from the crowds to a bench in the shade near the game booths. How had he known that she needed to sit down?
“Dad was pretty good at rodeo when he wasn’t drinking or screwing around behind our mother’s back.” He cast a sideways glance at her. “Gramps is an alcoholic, too.”
“Aunt Amelia told me.”
“Hopefully your family genes will trump mine—” he nodded at her stomach “—and our little one won’t be as rough around the edges as their father.”
Our little one. There Gunner went again using words that conjured up images of family—a three-person family.
“Do you and your brothers keep in touch with your mother?”
He shook his head. “She cut her ties with us when she left my dad.” Gunner’s comment sounded nonchalant, but his muscles tensed, convincing her that he was more affected by his mother’s abandonment than he let on. “I know where she lives,” he said.
“Have you visited her?”
He shook his head. “Gramps would be upset if he found out I’d kept tabs on her. He doesn’t blame her for walking out on my dad, but he won’t forgive her for leaving us kids behind.”
“Do you know why she didn’t stay in touch with you and your brothers?”
“She married a widower with two daughters.”
The woman sounded heartless, but she sensed Gunner was accepting of the situation. “A lot of people in your position would hate their mother for abandoning them.”
“It takes more energy to hold a grudge than to move on.”
“But...”
“What?” he asked.
She was sticking her nose where it hadn’t been invited. “Never mind.” Maybe his mother leaving and his father’s womanizing had convinced Gunner marriage wasn’t worth the effort. “I need to use the restroom.”
He pointed to a brick building across from the game booths. “Take your time. I’ll wait here.”
Once inside the restroom, Lydia splashed cool water on her face. Why had she asked about Gunner’s family history?
Because you’re searching for a reason to keep him at a distance.
Was she?
Hasn’t he shown you the past couple of weeks that he can be serious and dependable when he wants to be?
Gunner had been up early working at the motel every day this past week—she knew so because Karl had phoned and explained that Gunner was removing the bathroom tile while he’d remained at home, taking care of his sick daughters. And seeing how he handled the teens at the Little League game and then learning that he’d forgiven his mother all made it more difficult to hold on to the belief that Gunner wasn’t serious enough to be a father.
After she used the facilities, she washed her hands and left the restroom only to skid to a stop when she saw Gunner and a little boy standing at the dart-throwing booth. Lydia scanned the area but didn’t see the boy’s mother anywhere.
She hid in the shadows and watched as Gunner crouched down and spoke to the boy, who then pointed to a stuffed panda bear hanging among an array of animal prizes. Gunner dug into his pocket and then handed the employee money in exchange for darts. The boy jumped up and down as Gunner made a big production of winding his arm, squinting at the target and shuffling his feet.
Gunner threw the first dart and it hit the bull’s-eye. The boy squealed. Gunner went through his goofy routine again, then threw the second dart. Another bull’s-eye. The game worker held up a medium-sized teddy bear, but Gunner waved it off. The little boy looked unsure as Gunner prepared to throw the final dart. When it landed in the center again, the kid danced in circles.
Gunner accepted a giant panda from the worker and handed it to the kid just as the little guy’s mother raced up to them. After a quick exchange with Gunner, the mother hugged her son, obviously relieved to find him after he’d wandered off. She took the panda, then clasped her son’s hand. As they walked away, the boy glanced over his shoulder and waved.
Maybe it wasn’t up to Lydia or Gunner to decide if he’d make a good father.
Maybe it was up to their child.
Chapter Twelve
“You sure you’re not hungry?” Gunner couldn’t figure out why Lydia was so quiet after she’d returned from the restroom.
“I’m fine. I ate a second breakfast this morning.”
“I can probably guess what happened to the first one.” He rubbed her back in sympathy, grateful for an excuse to touch her. He missed their lovemaking, which wasn’t a surprise, since they’d hit it off in bed. But what did shock him was that he missed her hanging around the motel monitoring him. He loved watching the tiny wrinkle move between her eyebrows when she concentrated and the way she nibbled her lip right before she changed her mind.
&nb
sp; He just plain missed Lydia, which was a first for Gunner. He couldn’t recall any woman occupying his thoughts every waking moment.
“I tried eggs and toast this morning.” She peeked up at him. “Tasted great going down, not so great coming up.”
“What was your second breakfast?”
“Oatmeal.”
“Exciting.” He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her away from a group of teenagers walking with their heads down and eyes on their phones. The rodeo was set to begin soon, so he steered them toward the grandstands.
“When do you plan to see a doctor?” he asked.
“I’ll visit my OB-GYN when I return to Madison.”
Lydia had said Madison—not home. It was a tiny slip, but he hoped it meant she was warming up to Stampede. “Have you told your parents?”
Her head snapped in his direction. “No. Who have you told?”
“Gramps spilled the beans to Logan, but I doubt he told Reid unless he called him after he got Reid’s check.”
“Check?”
“Each month Reid sends a thousand dollars home. Guilt money because he doesn’t want to help Logan run the ranch.” Gunner didn’t want to talk about his brother. “Have you picked up any new clients in town?”
“A couple of Aunt Amelia’s friends contacted me to do small projects, but I think my aunt coerced them to ask for my services.” Lydia smiled. “I offered them decorating ideas free of charge and the ladies said they’d recommend me to their friends and family.”
“What else are you doing to keep busy at your aunt’s house?”
“I’m turning the third-floor attic into a playroom.”
The word playroom caught his attention.
“My cousins and I used to hide up there and play for hours when our families visited Aunt Amelia each summer.”
“That’s a lot of work for a space that won’t be used very often,” he said.
“Aunt Amelia is hoping Sadie will visit with the twins and then I’ll be coming back here with the baby.”
Maybe in time one of Lydia’s visits would become a permanent move.
“Hey, Gunner!”
A rodeo buddy Gunner recognized approached and he held out his hand. “How you doing, Jake?”
“Good.” He glanced between Gunner and Lydia. “Why aren’t you riding today?”
“Taking a break from the circuit.” He pulled Lydia close to his side.
“Lydia, this is Jake Monahan. He cowboys for the Los Lobos Ranch and rides bulls for fun.”
Jake tipped his hat. “Heard you’re fixing up the Moonlight Motel.”
“Lydia’s the project designer. You should stop by and check it out,” Gunner said.
“When you gonna get back to riding broncs?”
“I’m not sure.” Gunner hadn’t yet talked to his grandfather about the possibility of hiring a part-time employee to run the motel when he was off rodeoing.
“Since you’re on vacation today, do you mind helping me in the chute?” Jake asked.
“Where are your brothers?” Jake was a triplet and his brothers, Seth and Elliot, also competed in rodeo.
“They’re fixing fence.” Jake grinned. “They don’t want to admit they’re getting too old to tangle with rough stock. Besides, they’re afraid I’ll show them up.”
“Wish I could help, but—”
“You don’t mind me borrowing Gunner for a few minutes, do you?” Jake stared at Lydia.
“Of course not.”
“You sure?” Gunner asked.
“I’ll wait over there.” She pointed to an out-of-the-way spot behind the chutes.
Jake spoke to Lydia. “Gunner might not be a great rodeo cowboy, but he’s the guy you want by your side before the chute opens and all hell breaks loose.”
Gunner appreciated the backhanded compliment but doubted it would mean much to someone who didn’t understand the sport.
“I drew Widow’s Peak and I don’t know a thing about the animal except that no one’s gone the distance with him.” Jake tugged his riding glove on.
“Then play it safe,” Gunner said. “Stay low and keep your head down.” He climbed the chute rail and stood at the bull’s head as Jake slid onto its back. “Remember, nothing flashy.”
Jake wrapped the rope around his hand, then undid it and tried again.
“Not too tight on the wrap. You don’t want him tearing your arm from the socket.” Gunner had ridden a few bulls early in his career, but after a second concussion he’d switched to broncs—not that it was less dangerous, but few horses had that killer instinct like rodeo bulls.
“The bull’s back left leg is twitching,” Gunner said. “I’m betting he turns left after he clears the chute.”
“Got it.” Jake nodded, signaling he was good to go. The chute opened and Widow’s Peak did exactly as Gunner predicted—he spun left before his first buck. Jake hung on for seven seconds, his body whipping in the wind like a wet piece of rawhide. When the bull decided he’d had enough, he twisted his back end in midbuck and Jake catapulted into the air. The moment he hit the ground, he rolled to his right to avoid a stomping, then scrambled to his feet and raced to the chute.
“Sweet ride, Jake. You almost had him,” Gunner said.
“You called it right. You can read a rank bull like nobody’s business, but you sure can’t ride ’em.”
Gunner chuckled. “If I ever solve that part of the equation, then you’d better watch out.” He glanced over his shoulder and caught Lydia talking to a familiar-looking woman holding a little girl on her hip. “See ya around, Jake.” Gunner dodged a stroller and a fast-walking couple to catch up to Lydia.
“Hey, Shannon,” he said to the brunette.
“Howdy, Gunner.” Shannon flashed her trademark beauty-pageant smile that had won her Miss Mesquite Rodeo in high school.
“Who’s this?” He smiled at the little girl—a miniature version of her mother.
“This is Annabelle. She turns three tomorrow.”
“Happy birthday, Miss Annabelle.” Gunner winked and the child giggled. He motioned to Lydia and opened his mouth, but Shannon cut him off.
“We introduced ourselves.” Shannon smiled at Lydia. “Don’t worry. I didn’t tell her about all the trouble you caused in high school.” Shannon turned to Lydia. “Gunner asked me out every Monday in English class our sophomore year, but Daddy would have had a fit if I’d dated a Hardell boy.”
The child wiggled like a fish on a hook and Shannon set her on the ground. Annabelle squatted in front of Gunner and traced the stitching on the top of his cowboy boots. “Pretty fancy boots, huh, Annabelle?” When the little girl looked up, Gunner said, “Wanna dance?” He lifted her up and set her feet on top of his boots, then stepped forward and back. Annabelle giggled.
“We better get going. Annabelle’s father promised to show her the horses.” Shannon smiled at Lydia. “It was nice meeting you.” She took her daughter’s hand. “Good luck with the motel, Gunner.” The mother and daughter disappeared into the crowd.
“Let’s grab lunch.” Gunner escorted Lydia to the Burger Shack. She ordered a cheeseburger and fries and another bottle of water, then waited at a table in the shade for Gunner to bring their food. After he set the tray on the table and joined her, they ate in silence.
When Gunner finished his burger, Lydia spoke. “You seem at ease around children.”
He popped a fry into his mouth. “It’s easy to have fun with kids when you’re not responsible for them and don’t have to worry about their well-being.”
His comment worried Lydia. Sure, he claimed to want to be a part of his child’s life, but was he going to leave her with all the tough decisions a parent confronted when raising a child? It wouldn’t be fair if he had all the fun but none
of the liability. She bit into her burger, chewing until she was sure she could swallow past the lump in her throat. Gunner would never be her Mr. Perfect, but it was time she faced the truth—she was in love with him.
On the bright side—if there was a bright side—loving Gunner wouldn’t be for naught. One day when their child asked if she’d loved their father, with a clear conscience she could answer yes, she had...and maybe still did.
“Is there anything else you want to do while we’re here?” he asked.
“How about a walk through the livestock barns? I’d love to see the animals.”
He nodded to her half-eaten burger. “Are you sure you can stand the smell?”
“On second thought maybe we should sit in the shade of the grandstand and watch the rest of the rodeo.” And she’d pretend they were a couple until it was time to leave Stampede for good.
* * *
“I DIDN’T EXPECT to see you today.” Gunner placed the caulk gun on the bathroom counter Monday morning, then gestured at the shower wall. “I wasn’t sure I’d like the white subway tile, but it’s growing on me.”
Lydia had debated using different colors but had decided to keep the bright, clean look consistent in all the bathrooms. “You’re doing a nice job. Thanks for helping Karl with the tiling.”
“I made a couple of mistakes, but Karl fixed them for me, so you can’t tell.”
“Without your efforts we’d have fallen way behind.” Karl had been forced to cut back on his hours after his daughters had been diagnosed with strep throat and had to stay home from day camp. Lydia had sympathized with the single father and she worried how she’d handle a similar situation if her own child became ill and she had to work.
“This handyman stuff is kind of growing on me.” He grinned. “Don’t get me wrong—rodeo is still more exciting than installing a new faucet, but it’s nice to know I can do some minor repairs around the motel if they crop up in the future.”
“And you have Karl’s number now if you need a professional.” She glanced away from his face. She was going to miss Gunner’s teasing brown eyes. “I stopped by to tell you that the furniture and accessories are being delivered at the end of the week.” It was only the middle of July, but her plan to remain in Stampede the entire summer had taken a detour after the Mesquite Fourth of July rodeo. “Will you be around at the end of the week to help Karl hang the wallpaper in each room?”