Читать книгу The Cowboy's Family - Brenda Minton - Страница 11

Stupid moment number twelve. Or maybe twelve thousand? That’s what Rachel thought of volunteering to ride along with Wyatt and the girls to get that bull. And it was even worse standing in the shade watching Wyatt unload the pony from the trailer. He had hauled the pony and his new filly home. He’d left the bull for Jackson Cooper to trailer for him.

The girls stood next to Rachel, waiting for their dad to give the all clear. They fidgeted in one spot because they knew better than to run at the pony.

Wyatt led the filly, a dark bay two-year-old, into the barn. The horse pranced alongside him, her black tail waving like a banner. The filly dipped her head a few times and whinnied to horses in the field who answered back with shrill whinnies to the new girl in town.

Wyatt walked out of the barn a few minutes later. The filly was still inside, her shrill whinny continued. Wyatt pulled off his hat and swiped his brow with his arm. The girls were tugging on Rachel’s hands, but she didn’t let go. Somehow she managed to stand her ground.

He had told them to wait. She was more than willing to do what he asked. She was content to stay in one spot and watch as he stepped back into the trailer to retrieve the pony.

The second he stepped out of the trailer with the pony the girls started to jabber. Kat was pulling on her hand. Rachel leaned and picked the child up. When she looked up, Wyatt watched, his smile gone, his expression unreadable. He turned away and led the pony to the small corral next to the barn.

He closed the gate and tied the lead rope to the pole fence. “Come on over.”

She put down Kat and the girls ran toward him. He held up his hand and they slowed to a walk. Rachel followed because it was time to say goodbye. It had been a good day. The girls were wonderful. Wyatt was a wonderful dad who loved his daughters.

He probably thought Rachel could be a decent friend.

She’d had a lifetime of being the best friend, the girl that guys called when they wanted a pal to hang out with. Funny that when she lost weight all of those best friends started looking at her in a different way.

Wyatt untied the lead rope. “If you want to hold her, I’ll get the bridle and saddle.”

“I can do that.” So much for the quick escape. She took the rope and their fingers touched. She looked up, into dark eyes that held hers for a long moment. She looked away, back to the girls. Things that were easy.

Kat and Molly had climbed up on the bottom pole of the fence. They reached through and little fingers found the pony’s mane.

“I’ll be right back.” Wyatt glanced from her to his daughters and then he walked away, disappearing through the side door of the barn.

And she should do the same. She should tell him she had things to do today. She needed to clean her room or weed the garden. There were plenty of things she could have been doing.

It might be a good idea for her to go home and spend time in prayer.

When he came back with the tiny saddle and bridle, she opened her mouth to explain that she should go. But he smiled and she stayed.

She stayed and held the little pony as Wyatt lifted Kat and Molly onto his back. They rode double the first time, so that neither of them could say they got to ride first. Rachel stood by the gate watching as he led them around the corral. Kat was shaking the reins she held in her little hands, trying to make the pony run. Molly had her arms wrapped around her sister’s waist and her smile was huge.

Wyatt lifted Molly off the saddle and put his hat on Kat’s head. The black cowboy hat fell down over the child’s eyes. She didn’t mind. She had a pony.

Molly trudged across the arena and stopped next to Rachel. The little girl watched her sister ride the pony around the arena and as they got close, Molly started to bounce up and down.

“Might want to stand still, sweetie. We don’t want to startle the pony,” Rachel warned.

“Daddy said he didn’t think a train going through would make him scared.”

“He’s a pretty special pony.”

Molly looked up, her smile still splitting her little face. She nodded and continued to bounce as Wyatt headed their way with Kat in the saddle.

As he pulled one daughter down and lifted the other, Rachel stood close. “I should go now. Thank you for letting me go with you today.”

Wyatt took the hat off Kat’s head and placed it on Molly’s. He turned to Rachel, his smile still in place. The hair at the crown of his head was flat from wearing the hat.

“Thanks for going. Are you sure you don’t want a turn?” He teased with an Oklahoma drawl and a half smile.

“No, I think probably not. My feet would drag on the ground and the poor pony would need a chiropractor.”

“I doubt that.” He handed the reins to Molly. “Hold tight, kiddo.”

“Have fun with the pony.” Rachel leaned to kiss Kat’s cheek and she waved to Molly the cowgirl. “See you at church Wednesday.”

She turned to walk away, but Wyatt touched her arm, stopping her. She smiled because he looked as surprised as she did. His hand was still on her arm, warm and rough against her skin.

“All joking aside, I really do appreciate you going with us today. I know the girls loved having you along.”

She shrugged and his hand slid off her arm. “I enjoyed it as much as they did.”

And then she stood there, unmoving. The moment needed an escape route, the kind posted in hotel rooms. It should read: In case of emergency, exit here.

Wyatt remembered the Wednesday evening bonfire fifteen minutes before it started. He pulled into the parking lot of the church and the fire was already going, and people were gathered around in lawn chairs. He killed the engine on his truck and glanced in the backseat.

“Oh, man, we really should have done something with your hair.” But the girls’ hair had been the last thing on his mind as they rushed out the door.

He’d spent the day working the new bull, bringing it into the chute and bucking it out with a dummy on its back. He knew that it would buck, he just wanted to see for himself what they’d gotten themselves into. In the next week or two he’d take him over to Clint Cameron’s and let some of the teens that hung out over there give him a try.

But the bull aside, he’d also had to put out a fire in the kitchen. A cooking experiment had gone very wrong. Good thing he’d remembered the Wednesday evening bonfire. He smiled at the girls. Both had dirty faces, pigtails that were coming undone and boots with their shorts. He was pretty sure this was a real fashion catastrophe.

At least they were at church. He got out and opened the back door for the girls. They clambered down from the truck, jumping off the running board and then heading off to join Rachel and the other kids.

She was the pied piper of girls, big and small. Teenagers followed her around, talking as she worked. Sometimes she gave them jobs to do. As he stared she glanced quickly in his direction.