Читать книгу A Weaver Vow - Allison Leigh - Страница 9

The following Saturday, Isabella tried to allow more time to get out to the ranch. Erik had been kind enough to drop off those leftovers. The least she could do was take him up on his offer of a tour of his ranch.

Not that she had a single inkling whatsoever about cattle ranches. She wouldn’t know at all if she was oohing and aahing at the appropriate times.

But still.

Having driven the rough stretch of road four times now, she was a little better prepared for that particular experience. She fancied that she was even beginning to learn when to maneuver to the right or left to avoid particularly jarring holes. Which made the trip go considerably faster.

But they still didn’t arrive as early as she’d planned.

She just hadn’t anticipated having to nearly physically drag Murphy out of bed to get him going this morning. And it hadn’t helped that she’d dithered over what outfit to wear, all because she’d be seeing Erik Clay for a few minutes. That was something she had never done in her life. Not even with Murphy’s father.

The boy was sprawled in his seat, his eyes at half-mast and his lips turned down in displeasure at having to spend more time with the man he called “the Jailer.”

She wished she knew what to do to help him change his attitude. She’d already spoken with his counselor, Hayley Templeton, for suggestions. But nothing was working.

“I wanna go back to New York—” Murphy broke his silence with the abrupt announcement “—and live with my real mom.”

Her hands tightened around the steering wheel. It wasn’t the first time that he’d mentioned his mother. Jimmy had never lied to his son about her, though. Murphy knew perfectly well that Kim was a troubled woman who’d spent time in jail. “I know you want to go back to New York. But that doesn’t mean we know where your mother is.” If Isabella took him back, admitted that she had failed to provide him what he needed, he’d be placed into the foster-care system. Maybe with a better, more suitable family than her.

But guilt and grief collided inside her chest every time she thought about it.

She’d promised Jimmy.

“I’m sorry,” she said huskily. “I know you miss your dad. I do, too. But going back isn’t going to happen right now.”

“Then when?”

They topped the rise in the road, and the ranch buildings came into view. It relieved her as much as it worried her. “I don’t know,” she said. Never, if she had her choice. Sooner, if the caseworker didn’t like what she saw when she visited.

Murphy just gave that disgusted wordless grunt of his.

But he said nothing more as she drove the rest of the way and parked next to the dusty blue pickup truck beside Erik’s house. “Come on,” she said as she climbed out of the car. “The sooner you get started, the sooner you’ll be finished.”

“Yeah, until you get out here to take me home.” He slammed the car door shut and stomped ahead of her, heading toward the barn he’d worked on last week. When Isabella followed, his head swiveled around, and even beneath his Yankees ball cap she could see the alarm in his eyes. “Don’t you gotta leave to go teach?”

“Yes. But not right this minute.” She caught up to him. “I want to see what you’re doing and say hello to Mr. Clay. He’s offered to show me around the ranch.”

His lips twisted. She was certain he would have said something if Erik hadn’t appeared at that particular moment. Luckily he did, coming out of the partially standing barn. He had a pair of goggles dangling around his neck and a sledgehammer in his leather-gloved hand. Dusty jeans and a pair of equally dusty boots completed his outfit.

And she nearly swallowed her tongue.

Lucy hadn’t told her exactly how well they grew male gods out here in Wyoming.

With nothing else covering his wide shoulders and washboard stomach but the gleam of sweat, Erik Clay looked as if he belonged on some calendar somewhere for women to drool over.

“Thought you said you missed my dad,” Murphy accused in a low voice.

Horrified at herself, Isabella dragged her attention away from all that raw glory. “I do.”

Murphy just made a face.

And why wouldn’t he?