Читать книгу Single Dad Cowboy - Brenda Minton - Страница 9

Chapter One

The farmer stood his ground, his jeans loose, his button-down shirt frayed, with one button missing. Harmony Cross didn’t back down, though. She couldn’t back down. She also couldn’t explain why the horse in his corral mattered so much to her. But the skinny Appaloosa, black with a smattering of white on its rump, mattered. Possibly more than anything had ever mattered in her whole life.

She needed this horse. She needed something to pour her heart into, something that would love her in return and maybe, just maybe, help her find a way back to the person she used to be.

“I don’t know why you think I’m not taking care of that animal.” The old farmer, with a gray grizzled beard and sunken, hazy brown eyes, scratched his chin, as if he really didn’t get it. “I just rode him in the rodeo last night.”

“No, you didn’t,” Harmony countered, nearly smiling, yet not. “I’ll give you double what the animal is worth.”

“I’m not selling that horse. He’s a national champion.”

Harmony glanced at the skin-and-bones animal. “No, he isn’t. I’ve been driving by here for a week, and every day that horse is reaching across the fence trying to get one blade of grass. He’s starving.”

He pointed a finger at her that trembled. “I don’t care if you are Gibson Cross’s kid. You aren’t going to talk to me that way, missy.”

So, he knew who she was. Even though she’d tried to keep a low profile since she showed up in Dawson, Oklahoma, a week ago there would always be talk. There would always be people wanting to help. There would always be people who thought they knew where her life had gone wrong and what she needed to do to get back on track.

She’d come here looking for a place to hide, to get her life together because no one knew how much she hurt inside. The physical pain was nothing compared to the heartache of losing her best friend, the guilt that plagued her daily, and the nightmares.

At twenty-six, finding herself didn’t come easy.

At twenty-six, she had a list. Not a bucket list, but a list for moving forward. First, stay clean. Second, be physically whole again. Third, find a place to be herself, without everyone trying to help. Fourth, stay clean. And fifth—somehow come to terms with the fact that Amy would never call her again.

The horse had been an impulsive thing; it didn’t really fit into her plans. Each time she drove by the farm, she saw the animal. And each time her heart got a little more involved. This time she’d stopped. She looked from the horse to Mr. Tanner.

“Look, the horse is just in that corral doing nothing but grazing rocks and dirt.” She softened her voice to one of sympathy. Because she did feel bad for the farmer who lived in the tiny square of a house, the front porch sagging on one end. He looked as hungry as his horse. Selling the animal to her could mean money he didn’t have, maybe buying groceries he needed. So why was he being so stubborn? She wanted to ask, but knew the question would set him off again.

“I know what that horse is doing. He’s waiting for my grandson to come home to work with him. I’m not selling.”

“Maybe your grandson has outgrown the animal. It happens. They start looking at girls, driving cars, and horses lose their importance.” It had happened to her. She tried not to let the memories slide back into her mind, memories of losing herself. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost the horse-crazy girl who loved to run barrels, build a bonfire and sing in church. The girl who knew herself.

That girl had lost herself in a life far from Dawson.

The old man, Mr. Tanner, shook his head and moisture filled the hazy brown eyes. “Get out of here.”

“Mr. Tanner, I just want...”

He moved toward her, taking a quick step, grabbing her arm with a hand that shook. “Get back in that shiny car of yours and go. The horse isn’t for sale.”

Time for a new tactic. “Then I won’t buy him. I’ll take him to my place and feed him. Your grandson can come and see him if he decides he likes horses again.”

Mr. Tanner brushed at his eyes and shook his head. “Terry died in Afghanistan.”

Harmony closed her eyes briefly as a wave of grief slid through her heart. “I’m so sorry.”

A truck pulled up the drive. A dinged and dented extended-cab truck that she didn’t recognize. It rolled to a stop. The man inside sat there a minute, his hat pulled low over his eyes.

“Just what we need is a Cooper showing up and butting into my business,” Mr. Tanner growled, giving her a narrow-eyed look.

“I didn’t invite him,” she tossed back.

Harmony turned toward the truck and the cowboy getting out. She was suddenly tired, and her body was starting to react to standing for so long. She hadn’t thought this would be so difficult, buying a skin-and-bones horse. Nothing had been easy since the accident a little less than a year ago.

New Year’s Eve would mark the one-year anniversary. It wasn’t an anniversary she wanted to celebrate. New Year’s Eve would never be a fun-filled holiday again. She would never bring in another year without thinking of that phone call, asking her best friend to pick her up because she was so drunk she couldn’t drive.

“Dylan Cooper, been a mite too long since I seen you in these parts.” Mr. Tanner’s words shook her back to the present. She looked up as Dylan Cooper walked with a slow, easy gait in their direction.

Harmony wanted to groan but didn’t. Dylan Cooper was the last person she needed to see. She’d heard he was living in Texas. Of course he would be home now. Of course he would still be the best-looking Cooper of the bunch, with his lean cowboy frame and country-boy grin. He was tanned from summer sunshine. And his dark hair curled beneath his white cowboy hat.

With a dozen kids in Angie and Tim Cooper’s family, calling him the best-looking was saying something. In this new life she didn’t have time for good-looking, smooth-talking men. She had two relationships she was focusing on. With herself, and with God.

“Bill.” Dylan Cooper adjusted his cowboy hat and shifted to look at her. Harmony lifted her chin a notch and stared right back at him. The hazel eyes she remembered from so long ago were less teasing, less sharp. He had gone from boy to man in the years since she’d seen him last.

The teenage Dylan had been a flirt. He’d been too cute for words and he’d known it. She had steered clear. But then one year she’d taken a walk down by the creek with him. He’d kissed her, told her he didn’t like spoiled little girls and then walked away, leaving her mad enough to spit.

“Harmony Cross, I didn’t expect to see you here.” His gaze lowered to the cane in her right hand and then eased back to her face. “How are you?”

“Good.” She stopped herself from being sarcastic. She’d had a wreck that nearly killed her and did kill her best friend. She’d been in rehab. She’d overcome addiction. She was great. “How are you?”

“Been better.” He shifted back to Bill Tanner. “You doing all right, Bill?”

“Been better.” Bill smiled just a little as he repeated Dylan’s words, but Harmony saw the moisture in his eyes.

“I just came to pay my respects. I’m real sorry, Bill. If there’s anything you and Doris need, you let me know.”

“I appreciate that, Dylan. We’re making it, though.”

“What’s Miss Cross doing here?” Dylan didn’t look at her. He adjusted his white cowboy hat and kept his gaze fixed on Mr. Tanner.

“She’s trying to buy Terry’s horse.” Mr. Tanner sighed and shook his head. “All of this fuss over a horse.”

“Mr. Tanner, at least let me buy you some hay.” Harmony made the quick offer, thinking now would be the time to escape.

“Why are you keeping that horse, Bill?” Dylan’s tone was easy, friendly. Harmony shot him a look, doubting he was really on her side in this matter. More likely he was on the horse’s side.

Mr. Tanner looked away from them, back to the horse in the corral. The animal, as if he knew they were discussing his future, moved to the fence to watch. It was mid-September and a breeze blew, feathering the horse’s dark tail in the light wind. For a minute the animal was almost pretty.

“I keep thinking he’ll come home.” Mr. Tanner finally answered, the words hollow and sad.

Dylan’s hand rested on the farmer’s shoulder. “Terry wouldn’t want his horse kept that way.”

“I know.”

Harmony waited, holding her breath while Bill Tanner looked from her to the horse. Her gaze strayed to Dylan Cooper and he smiled. The lingering sadness in his eyes took her by surprise.

But she was more surprised when she noticed the door of his truck opening. As Dylan talked to Bill Tanner, two children escaped from his truck. A little girl, maybe preschool age, barefoot and wearing shorts and a tank top. And a boy, just a toddler. Both had blond hair. The boy’s hair was buzzed short. The girl’s hair was in raggedy braids with wisps of hair coming loose. The two held hands as they sneaked across the yard.

* * *

If Dylan had known Harmony Cross would be at the Tanners’, he would have ignored the voice in his head telling him to stop and pay his respects to Bill and Doris Tanner over the loss of the grandson they’d raised. Harmony Cross, with her dark blue eyes and curly blond hair framing her pretty face, was the last thing he needed in his life right now. He barely had time for himself these days, let alone thoughts that took him down back roads of the past.

What he needed had everything to do with the two kids in his truck.

As Harmony stood there, leaning heavily on a cane, waiting for Bill Tanner to come to his senses, Dylan gave her a long look. He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She’d been pretty full of herself back then. That girl seemed to be long gone. She’d been through a lot recently.

Hadn’t they all?

He guessed back in the day they’d all thought they’d live charmed lives free from trouble.

At least his personal drama hadn’t made the national news. Just the Dawson gossip channels. He guessed that might be nearly as bad. He’d been home a few weeks, and everywhere he went people asked questions. Or mentioned a sweet girl that he should meet. Because marriage would solve his problems?

Harmony was no longer watching him. Her gaze had shot past him and he saw a flicker of a smile turn her lips. She bit down on her bottom lip and her gaze flicked back to him like she hadn’t seen a thing. And that made him mighty curious. He turned just as Cash and Callie hurried across the yard toward a kitten that had crawled out from under the house.

The door of the house banged shut just as Callie pounced on the kitten that fortunately had the good sense to run back under the porch. Doris Tanner walked onto the porch, a thin woman in dark blue housedress. He remembered when she used to bake the best pies in the state. She shook her head as she walked down the steps, holding the rail for support.

Dylan shot her a smile as he hurried and scooped the adventurers up, one under each arm. He’d gotten pretty good at keeping them corralled. Sometimes he forgot that they were escape artists. Doris smiled his way and stepped next to her husband.

Dylan settled a kid on each hip and thought about making his own escape. But he didn’t want to leave Doris refereeing the two people that looked like they might butt heads any moment.

“Why all of this fuss over a skinny old horse?” Doris reached for Bill’s arm. “The horse needs to go, Billy. We can’t keep him in that corral forever.”

“Terry said to keep his horse. His last words to me were telling me I shouldn’t sell his horse while he was gone. I talked to him the day before...” Bill looked at the horse, shaking his head. Dylan wondered if anyone else felt the pain in the air, thick, heavy, weighing down on this family and this farm.

They still had a few days until autumn’s official start, but the air was a little cooler today and the breeze came from the north. There was still green grass and leaves on the trees, thanks to some good rain. At the Tanner farm, everything seemed gray. Dylan guessed he recognized it because he’d been feeling the same way for the past few months, since Katrina passed away. The two of them hadn’t ever been more than friends, but she’d needed someone at her side during the last year. Her last year. And she’d been only twenty-six.

“Mr. Tanner, I’m so sorry.” Harmony spoke and Dylan drifted back to the present. Harmony’s hand rested on Bill’s arm and her gaze connected with Doris’s. The two women smiled at each other.

“Take the horse.” Mr. Tanner turned and walked away.

“I don’t think...” Harmony turned to look at Dylan. He shrugged. She was on her own. Cash and Callie were struggling to get down and he knew they wanted that kitten.

He was settling them back on the ground when the kitten came out from under the porch again and headed across the yard. Harmony leaned down and picked it up. She gave the flea-bitten tabby a sad look and handed it to Callie.

“Take the horse, honey.” Doris Tanner patted Harmony’s arm. “He’s just a reminder. I want him gone. I want the corral gone. And Dylan, let those kids have that kitten.”

Harmony nodded and then flicked at tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ll write you a check.”

Dylan watched as Harmony made painful steps back to her car. She sat in the driver’s seat and more tears trickled down her cheeks. Was it was from physical pain or from sharing heartache with the Tanners? He guessed when she showed up today, she expected to find a relieved farmer ready to take a check for a skinny horse, and never would have guessed at the pain she’d find.

She pushed herself out of the car and walked back to Doris Tanner. Bill had gone back in the house. Harmony handed over the check and Doris looked at it and shook her head.

“That old horse isn’t worth that much money.” Doris tried to hand the check back.

“He’s a national champion.” Harmony smiled. They all knew it wasn’t the truth. Bill had been doing his best to run her off.

“He’s one step away from glue.” Doris shook her head and looked at the check again.

Harmony hugged the older woman. “He’s a champion to me.”

For whatever reason, the rangy Appaloosa meant something to Harmony Cross, and Dylan didn’t want to know why. He sure didn’t want to see her as someone who cared about other people. That made her too big a complication. And with Callie and Cash heading for the truck with a kitten, he was pretty sure he had all the complications he could handle. What he needed was space to breathe, to figure out how to be a single dad.

“Do you have someone who can haul him for you?” Doris asked, and for whatever reason she glanced his way.

Harmony ignored him. “I’ll find someone.”

“I need to hit the road. Doris, if you all need anything, you give me a call.”

“Thank you, Dylan. But I think you’ve probably got your hands full as it is. Bill and I are making it through this. We’ve made it through plenty in our lives.”

“I’m just down the road.” Dylan glanced over his shoulder to make sure the kids were back in the truck. “And thanks for the kitten.”

At that, Doris smiled. “Oh, Dylan, kids need animals. It keeps them smiling, and don’t we all need to smile?”

“Yeah, I guess we do.” He really didn’t like cats. But it was pointless to mention that.

Doris touched his arm. “I’m going on in to see about Bill. Will you help her find someone to haul that horse out of here? And if you want that round pen, take it.”

“Sure thing, Doris.”

Harmony stood at the corral trying to coax that skinny horse to her with a few blades of grass she’d plucked from the yard. The horse trotted to the far side of the round pen, wanting nothing to do with her or that fistful of grass. He waited until Doris entered the house, then he walked up to the round pen. It didn’t make sense to have the horse in that pen. Bill had land. He had cattle. The whole situation smelled of grief and pain.

“I’ll haul him over to your place.” The offer slipped out, because it was the right thing to do. Harmony turned, smiling as she brushed hair back from her face.

“I can find someone.”

Argumentative females. He sighed. “Harmony, I’ll haul the horse.”

Harmony held her hand out and the horse brushed against her palm and then backed away. He didn’t think the animal had been worked since Terry left for the military a couple of years ago.

“He’s a lot of horse,” he cautioned. “He isn’t even halter-broke.”

“I’m not worried about it.”

“I’d hate to see you mess around and get hurt.”

She shot him a look, and he realized she was holding on to the fence, holding herself up. Stubborn female. He didn’t have time for stubborn.

“Why don’t you get in your car and head back to your place? I’ll get a trailer and bring him over to you this afternoon. You’ll have to pen him up for a few days because in this condition he’s likely to founder if he gets too much green grass.”

“I’ll put him in the small corral by the barn. It has plenty of grass for now.” She smiled at him. Man, that smile, it was something else. It could knock a guy to his knees. “And I’ll take that offer to haul him for me. If it isn’t too much trouble. The kids—”

He cut her off. “How much did you pay for him?”

“That’s a business deal, Mr. Cooper. I don’t sign checks and tell.” She turned away from the horse and made slow, painful steps back to her car.

He opened the car door for her. “That was real nice of you.”

She slid into the seat and looked up at him. “Why not do something for someone if you have the chance? That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?”

He rested his arm on the top of her Audi and looked in at her. He knew she was referring to Cash and Callie, Katrina’s kids. “Yeah, I guess we’re all grown-up now.”

“Right, of course we are.” She started her car and reached for the door, forcing him to back up. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

He watched as she closed the door, and took off down the drive. Bill Tanner was standing on his front porch. The old guy walked down the steps, a little bow-legged from years in the saddle. He’d been a saddle bronc rider back in the day, one of the best.

He’d taught Dylan a thing or two about the sport. Dylan and Terry had both ridden saddle bronc, before Terry had signed up for the army. Dylan glanced at the rangy horse and smiled, because Terry had bought the animal from a stock provider who had intended to use him in rodeos and then decided the horse didn’t have enough buck.

But he still had plenty of buck, and if Harmony Cross gentled the animal down, she deserved a medal.

“Well, I guess Terry’s horse is going to have a good home.” Bill walked up to the round pen. “I should have sold him a long time ago. I’m just a stubborn old man who doesn’t like to deal with reality.”

“It isn’t easy, this reality stuff,” Dylan admitted.

“Take the girl her check back.” Bill held out the check with the flowery signature and four digits.

“Nah, Bill, I think she’d be real upset if you sent that back. Keep it and take Doris to the beach.”

Bill grinned. Probably one of his first real smiles in a long time. “It don’t seem right, to have this much money in my hand. But the beach would sure be nice.”

“Go. Have a good time.” Dylan adjusted his hat to block the sun. “She ain’t gonna miss the money, Bill.”

“No, I reckon she won’t. She was sure determined to get that animal. I guess she’ll be good to him. I just didn’t want to sell him and have someone put him back in the arena. Terry thought there was more to the horse than that. Something about his eyes.”

“Maybe she sees it, too.”

“Maybe.” Bill wore a baseball cap with a big fish emblem on the front. “Guess I’ll go fishing.”

“Don’t forget to do something with Doris.”

“She won’t let me forget.” Bill started to go back inside but stopped, and looked from the truck to Dylan. “You’ll get through this, Dylan.”

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

When he got in his truck, he looked at the two kids in the backseat. Cash was in his car seat. Callie was sitting in her big-kid booster seat. She reminded him often that she was four and Cash was just a baby.

She was holding tight to her kitten and the thing looked like it might be about ready to let loose with its claws.

“That kitten isn’t happy, Callie.” He grabbed a jacket and handed it back to her. “Wrap him up before you get scratched.”

“He’s happy,” she insisted as she wrapped the jacket around the hissing feline.

“Of course she is. You know I don’t like cats, right?” He glanced in the rearview mirror as he pulled onto the road. And he also didn’t like getting involved in Harmony Cross’s life. He had enough on his plate.

“You’ll like this one, Dylan,” Callie informed him with a big smile.

“What do you think, Cash? I need a guy on my side.”

Cash, not quite two, responded with one of his drooling, toothy grins and said, “Cat.”

“Yeah, cat.” Dylan shook his head and headed for town. One of these days he’d have to figure out how his ability to say no had gotten broken to the point of no repair.

If he’d figured it out sooner, he might not have offered to haul that horse for Harmony Cross.

The one thing, actually two, that he didn’t regret were sitting in the backseat of his truck. Cash and Callie, the children of his late friend. She’d lost a battle with cancer, and he’d done the only thing he had known he could do for her. He’d agreed to raise her kids because there hadn’t been anyone else.

One year ago he’d decided to help out a friend. Now he was a single dad.