Читать книгу Engaged to the Single Mom - Lee McClain Tobin - Страница 11

Chapter Three

By the time they’d gotten back to the farm, it was suppertime and Troy’s blood was boiling as hot as the pot of pasta on the stove.

Did Angelica have to make her date plans right in front of him? And with Buck Armstrong?

But it wasn’t his business, and he had no reason to care. He just needed some time to himself.

Which apparently he wasn’t going to get, because the minute they set down their things, Xavier was pulling at his hand. “Mr. Troy, Mr. Troy, we’re all going to have dinner together!”

Great. He smiled down at the boy. How was he going to get out of this?

“Xavier, honey.” Angelica knelt down beside her son. “We’ll have dinner at the bunkhouse. We can’t impose.”

She tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair, and the shiny locks flowed down her back. Her hand kneaded Xavier’s shoulder. She was all loving mother.

And all woman.

“But, Mama! Wait till you see what Miss Lou Ann and me cooked!”

Lou Ann rubbed Xavier’s bald head. “I’m sorry, Angelica. I told him we could probably all eat together. We picked zucchini and tomatoes from the garden and cooked up some of that ratatouille.”

“And we made a meat loaf, and I got to mix it up with my hands!”

The boy sounded so happy. Troy’s throat tightened as he thought about how Angelica must feel, cherishing every moment with him and wondering at the same time whether he’d ever make meat loaf again, whether this was the last chance for this particular activity.

Angelica glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. “Maybe we’ll get together another time. Mr. Troy’s been working all day and he’s tired. Let’s let him rest.”

What was he supposed to do now, squash down all of this joy? And he had to admit that the thought of having company for dinner in the farmhouse kitchen didn’t sound half-bad, except that the pretty woman opposite him was hankering after another man.

At the thought of Angelica dating Buck Armstrong, something dark twisted his insides. With everything he knew about Buck, he should warn her off, and yet it would serve her right to go out with him and find out what he was really like.

“Can we stay, Mr. Troy?”

He looked at the boy’s hopeful eyes. “Of course.” His words sounded so grudging that he added, “Sounds like a good meal you fixed.”

“It is good, and wait till you see dessert!”

By the time Xavier helped Lou Ann serve dessert—sliced pound cake, topped with berries and whipped cream—he looked beat. But his smile was joyous. “I had so much fun this afternoon, Mama!”

Troy praised the food, which was really good, thanks he was sure to Lou Ann’s guidance. But his stomach was turning, wouldn’t let him really enjoy it.

Angelica looked beautiful at the other end of the table, her black hair tumbling down past her shoulders and her cheeks pink as apples. And now, with Xavier so happy, she didn’t seem as worried as usual; the little line that tended to live between her eyebrows was gone, and her smile flashed frequently as Xavier described all that he and Lou Ann had done that day.

Troy had always wanted this. He wanted a warm, beautiful woman and cute, enthusiastic children at his table, wanted to be the man of the family. And this sweet, feisty pair seemed to fit right into his home and his heart. But he had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t his and it wouldn’t last.

Looking at Xavier, he couldn’t believe the child had been so sick and might relapse at any moment. Yeah, he was drooping, getting tired, but he was so full of life that it made no sense that God might take him away.

Any more than it made sense that God would put him and his siblings in a loveless family, let alone give Angelica all the heartaches she’d endured growing up, but that was God for you—making sense wasn’t what He was about. That was why Troy had stopped trusting Him, starting taking most things into his own hands. He believed, sure; he just didn’t trust. And he sure didn’t want to join the men’s Bible study his friend Dion was always bugging him about.

“This little one needs to get to bed,” Lou Ann said. “Troy, I know you can’t carry much with those crutches, but why don’t you at least help her with the doors and such?”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Angelica stood, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “We’ve already taken too much of your time. We can make it.”

But Troy moved to intercept her protest. “Come on, pal. Let’s get you out to bed.”

Angelica started gathering Xavier’s pills and toys and snacks together, stuffing them into a Spider-Man backpack. Before she could bend to pick Xavier up, Troy leaned on one crutch, steadied himself with a hip against the table and picked up the boy himself. He was amazingly light. He nestled right against Troy’s chest and Troy felt his heart break a little. He glanced over at Angelica and saw that she had tears in her eyes. “Ready?” he asked. Then, gently, he put her son in her arms, taking the boy’s backpack to carry himself.

She bit her lip, turned and headed off, and he grabbed his crutches and followed her. They walked out to the bunkhouse together and Troy helped Angelica lay Xavier in his bed, noticing the homey touches Angelica had put around—a teddy bear, a poster of a baseball player, a hand-knitted afghan in shades of blue and brown. It was a boy’s room, and it should be filling up with trophies from Little League games. They said every kid got a trophy these days, and wasn’t that awful? But not Xavier. This kid hadn’t had the opportunity to play baseball.

Not yet.

Angelica knelt beside the bed. “Let’s thank God for today.”

“Thank You, God, for letting me cook dinner. And for Lou Ann. And the dogs.”

Angelica was holding Xavier’s hand. “Thank You for giving us food and love and each other.”

“Bless all the people who don’t have so much,” they said together.

“And, God, please get me a daddy before...” Xavier trailed off, turned over.

Whoa. Troy’s throat tightened.

“Night, sweetie, sleep tight.” Angelica’s voice sounded choked.

“Don’t let the bedbugs... Love you, Mama.” The words were fading off and the boy was asleep.

They both stood looking down at him, Troy on one side of the bed and Angelica on the other.

“Did he say he wants a...dad?” Troy ventured finally.

Angelica nodded.

“Does his dad ever spend time with him?”

She looked up at him. “No. Never.”

“Does he even know him?”

Her lips tightened. “I... Look, Troy, I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sure.” But he’d like to strangle the guy who’d loved and left her, and not just because he remembered how difficult it had been to keep his hands off Angelica back when they were engaged. He took a deep breath and loosened his tightly clasped fists. She’d gotten pregnant with Xavier right around the time she left town, so was Xavier’s dad—the jerk—from here or from elsewhere? She hadn’t married him, apparently, but... “If the guy knew Xavier, knew what he was like and what he’s facing, surely he’d be willing—”

“No.”

“No?”

“Just...no, okay?” She stood and stalked out to the living room, and Troy wondered whether he’d ever stop putting his plaster-covered foot in his mouth around her.

* * *

The next Saturday, Angelica touched up her hair with a curling wand and applied blush and mascara. And tried not to throw up.

She didn’t want to go out on a date. But there was no other way to get Xavier off her case.

In fact, he was beside her now, hugging her leg. “You never had a date before, Mama.”

She laughed. “Yes, I did. Back in the day. Before you.”

“Did you go on dates with my dad?”

All Xavier knew was that his father had died. He hadn’t ever asked whether Angelica and his father had been married, and Angelica hoped he didn’t go there any time soon. For now, she would stick as close to the truth as possible. “No, not with him, but with a few other guys.” She tried to deflect his attention. “Just like I’m doing now. Do I look all right?”

“You’re beautiful, Mama.”

She hugged him. “Thanks, Zavey Davey. You’re kinda cute yourself.”

“Do I get to meet him? Because I want to see, you know, if he’s the right kind of guy for us.”

“My little protector. You can meet him sometime, but not now. Miss Lou Ann is going to come over and play with you. And I think I hear her now.”

Sure enough, there was a knock on the bunkhouse door. Xavier ran over to get it while Angelica fussed with herself a little more. She’d much rather just stay home with Xavier tonight. What if Buck tried something? She knew him to be a nice guy, but still...

“Well, how’s my little friend for the evening?” Lou Ann asked, pinching Xavier’s cheek. “You set up for a Candy Land marathon, or are we building a fort out of sheets and chairs?”

“You’ll build a fort with me?” Xavier’s eyes turned worshipful. “Mom always says it’s too messy.”

“It’s only too messy if we don’t clean up later. And we will, right?”

“Right. I’ll get the extra sheets.”

As soon as he was out of the room, Lou Ann turned to Angelica. “You look pretty,” she said. “Somebody’s already cranky, and when he sees you looking like that...” She smacked her lips. “Sparks are gonna fly.”

That was the last thing she needed. Her face heated and she changed the subject. “Xavier can stay up until eight-thirty. He gets his meds and a snack half an hour before bed.” She showed Lou Ann the pills and the basket of approved snacks.

“That’s easy. Don’t worry about us.” Lou Ann leaned back and looked out the window. “I think your friend just pulled in.”

“I wanna see him!” Xavier rushed toward the window, dropping the stack of sheets he’d been carrying.

“Well,” Lou Ann said, “that’s just fine, because I want to claim the best spot in the fort.”

Xavier spun back to Lou Ann. “I’m king of the fort!”

“You’d better get over here and help me, then.”

Thank you, Angelica mouthed to Lou Ann, and slipped out the door.

Buck emerged from his black pickup, looking good from his long jean-clad legs to his slightly shaggy brown curls. Any girl would feel fortunate to be dating such a cute guy, Angelica told herself, trying to lighten the lead weight in her stomach.

He’s a nice guy. And it’s for Xavier. “Hi there!”

“Well, don’t you look pretty!” He walked toward her, loose limbed.

To her right, the front door of the main house opened. Troy. He came out on the porch and stood, arms crossed. For all the world as if he were her father.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to ignore his rougher style of handsome, the way his broad shoulders, leaning on his crutches, strained the seams of his shirt. She was through with Troy Hinton, and he was most certainly through with her, wouldn’t want anything to do with her if he knew the truth.

She deliberately returned her attention to Buck. He reached her and opened his arms.

Really? Was a big hug normal on a first date? It had been so long...and she’d been so young... She took a deep breath and allowed him to hug her, at the same time wrinkling her nose. Something was wrong...

“Baby, it’s great to see you. Man, feels good to hug a woman.” Buck’s words were slurred. And yes, that smell was alcohol, covered with a whole lot of peppermint.

She tried to pull back, but he didn’t let go.

Panic rose in her. She stepped hard onto his foot. “Let go,” she said, loud, right in his ear.

From the corner of her eye, the sight of Troy made her feel secure.

“Sorry!” Buck stepped back. “I didn’t mean...I was just glad...oh man, you look so good.” He moved as though he was going to hug her again.

She sidestepped. “Buck. How much have you had to drink?”

“What?” He put an arm around her and started guiding her toward his truck. “I had a drink before I came over. One drink. Don’t get uptight.”

Could that be true? Without a doubt, she was uptight around men. But this felt wrong in a different way. “Wait a minute. I...I think we should talk a little bit before we go.”

“Sure!” He shifted direction, guiding her toward a bench and plopping down too hard, knocking into her so that she sat down hard, too.

She drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. He was drunk, all right. It wasn’t just her being paranoid. But now, how did she get rid of him?

“I really like you, Angelica,” he said, putting an arm around her. He pulled her closer.

She scooted away. “Look, Buck, I can’t...I don’t think I can go out with you. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“One drink!” He sounded irritated.

Angelica stood and backed away. Couldn’t something, just once, be easy? “Sorry, friend, but I can’t get in the truck with you. And you shouldn’t be driving, either.”

There was a sound of booted feet, and then Troy was beside her. “She’s right, Buck.”

“What you doing here, Hinton?”

“I live here, as you very well know.”

“Well, I’m taking this little lady out for a meal, once—”

“You’re not going anywhere except home. As soon as your sister gets here to pick you up.”

“Oh man, you didn’t call Lacey!” Buck staggered to his feet, his hand going to his pocket. He pulled out truck keys. “This has been a bust.”

Angelica glanced at Troy, willing him to let her handle it. She had plenty of experience with drunk people, starting with her own parents. “Can I see the car keys a minute?”

He held them out, hope lighting up his face. “You gonna come after all? I’ll let you drive.”

She took the keys. “I’m not going, and sorry, but you’re not fit to drive yourself, either.”

He lunged to get them back and Troy stuck out a crutch to trip him. “You’re not welcome on this property until you’re sober.”

Angelica kept backing off while, in the distance, a Jeep made clouds on the dusty road. That must be Buck’s sister.

So she could go home now. Back inside. Face Xavier and tell him the date was off.

Except she couldn’t, because tears were filling her eyes and blurring her vision. She blinked hard and backed up as far as the porch steps while Troy greeted the woman who’d squealed up in the Jeep.

The woman pushed past Troy, poked a finger in Buck’s chest and proceeded to chew him out. Then she and Troy helped him into the passenger seat. They stood beside the Jeep for a minute, talking.

When Angelica turned away, she realized that Xavier could see her here if he looked out the window. Hopefully he was too deep into fort-building to notice, but she wasn’t ready to see him and she couldn’t take the risk. She headed out to the kennels at a jog. Grabbed one of the pit bulls she’d been working with, a black-and-white beauty named Sheena, attached a leash to her and started walking down the field road as unwanted, annoying tears came faster and faster.

She sank to her knees beside a wooden fence post, willing the tears to stop, hugging the dog that licked her cheek with canine concern.

“Get yourself together, girlie. Nobody said life’s a tea party.”

Gramps’ words, harsh but kindly meant, had guided her through the storms of adolescence and often echoed in her mind.

Today, for some reason, they didn’t help. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pray, but the tears kept coming.

After long moments, one of the verses she’d memorized during Xavier’s treatment came into her mind.

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.

Slowly, peace, or at least resignation, started to return. But every time she thought about Xavier and how disappointed he’d be, the tears overflowed again.

A hand gripped her shoulder, making her start violently. “You that upset about Buck?” Troy asked.

She shook her head, fighting for control. It wasn’t about Buck, not really. He was a small disappointment in the midst of a lot of big ones, but it was enough to push her over the edge. She couldn’t handle the possibility of losing Xavier, the only good thing in her life, and yet she had to handle it. And she had to stay strong and positive for him.

It was pretty much her mantra. She breathed in, breathed out. Stay strong, she told herself. Stay strong.

A couple of minutes later she was able to accept Troy’s outstretched hand and climb to her feet. He took the dog leash from her and handed her an ancient-looking, soft bandanna. “It’s not pretty, but it’s clean.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes and nose and came back into herself enough to be embarrassed at how she must look. She wasn’t one of those pretty, leak-a-few-tears criers; she knew her eyes must be red and puffy, and she honked when she blew her nose. “Sorry,” she said to him.

“For what?”

She shook her head, and by unspoken agreement they started walking. “Sorry to break down.”

“You’re entitled.”

The sun was setting now, sending pink streaks across the sky, and a slight breeze cooled the air. Crickets harmonized with bullfrogs in a gentle rise and fall. Angelica breathed in air so pungent with hay and summer flowers that she could almost taste it, and slowly the familiar landscape brought her calm.

“You know,” Troy ventured after a few minutes, “Buck Armstrong’s not really worth all that emotion. Not these days. If I’d known you were this into dating him, I might have warned you he has a drinking problem.”

She laughed, and that made her cry a little more, and she wiped her eyes. “It’s not really about Buck.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“I’ve got a plan, is what I’ve got,” she said, “and I was hoping Buck could be a part of it.” Briefly, she explained her intention of finding a stand-in dad for Xavier.

Troy shook his head. “That’s not going to work.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a smart kid. He’ll know. You can’t just pretend you’re dating someone so that he’ll think he’s getting a dad.”

“I can if I want to.” They came to a crossroads and she glanced around. “I’m not ready to go back home and admit defeat yet, and I don’t want him looking out the window and seeing me cry.”

“Come the back way, by the kennel.”

Sheena, the dog she’d brought with her, jumped at a squirrel, and Troy let her off the lead to chase it. She romped happily, ears flopping.

“So you think getting a dad will make Xavier happy? Even if it’s a fake dad?”

“It’s not fake! Or, well, it is, but for a good reason.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the picture she always carried, Xavier in happier times. “Look at that face! For all I know, he’ll never be really healthy again.” She cleared her throat. “If I can make his life happy, I’m going to do it.”

He studied the picture. “He played Little League?”

She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. “T-ball. He’d just started when he was diagnosed. He had one season.”

“He started young.”

She nodded. “They let him start a few weeks before his birthday, even though officially they aren’t supposed to start until they turn four.”

“Because he was sick?”

She shook her head. “Because he was so good. He loved it.” Tears rushed to her eyes again and she put her hands to her face.

“Hey.” He took the sloppy bandanna from her hand, wiped her eyes and nose as if she were a child, and pulled her to his chest. And for just a minute, after a reflexive flinch, Angelica let herself enjoy the feeling. His chest was broad and strong, and she heard the slow beating of his heart. She aligned her breath with his and it steadied her, calmed her.

In just a minute, she’d back away. Because this was dangerous and it wasn’t going anywhere. Troy wouldn’t want a woman like Angelica, not really, so letting an attraction build between them was a huge mistake.

* * *

Troy patted Angelica’s back and breathed in the strawberry scent of her hair, trying to remind himself why he needed to be careful.

He wanted to help Angelica and Xavier in the worst way. His heart was all in with this little family. But that heart was broken, wounded, not whole.

He felt her stiffen in his arms, as though she was just realizing how close he was. For the thousandth time since he’d reencountered her, he wondered about her skittishness around men. Or was it just around him? No, he’d seen her tense up when Armstrong had hugged her, too.

Carefully, he held her upper arms and stepped away. Her face was blotched and wet, but she still looked beautiful. Her Western-style shirt was unbuttoned down to a modest V, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. Her jeans clung to her slim figure. Intricate silver earrings hung from her ears, sparkling against her wavy black hair.

“Come on,” he said gruffly, “let’s go in the house. We’ll get you something to drink.”

“Okay.” She looked up at him, her eyes vulnerable, and he wanted nothing more than to protect her.

Don’t go there, fool.

They walked back along the country road as the last bit of sun set in a golden haze. A few dogs barked out their farewell to the day. At the kennel, they put Sheena back inside, and then he led Angelica up to the house.

He loved his farm, his dogs, his life. He had so much. But what right did he have to be happy when Angelica’s problems were so big?

How could he help her?

An idea slammed into him, almost an audible voice.

You could marry her.

Immediately he squelched the notion. Ridiculous. No way. He wouldn’t go down that path. Not again, not after what she’d done to him.

And even outside of the way she’d dumped him, he’d never seen a good marriage. He didn’t know how to be married; didn’t know how to relate to people that way; didn’t know how to keep a woman happy or make it last. He didn’t want to be like his dad, the person who failed his wife. He didn’t want to let Xavier down.

But the point was, he thought as he held the door for her, Xavier might not have the time to be let down. Xavier needed and wanted a dad now, and Troy already knew the boy liked him.

As they walked into the kitchen, he remembered proposing to Angelica the last time. Then he’d been all about wanting to impress her, to sweep her away. He’d hired Samantha Weston, who usually used her small plane for crop dusting, to sky-write his proposal at sunset during an all-town Memorial Day picnic. Angelica had laughed, and cried, and joyously accepted. Her friends had clustered around them, and he’d presented her with a diamond way too big for a new vet with school loans to pay off.

He still had that ring, come to think of it. He’d stuffed it in his sock drawer when she mailed it back to him, and he’d never looked at it again.

It was upstairs right now. He could go and get it. Help her handle this massive challenge life had given her. And Xavier... Boy, did he want to help that kid!

Angelica perched on a kitchen stool and rested her chin in her hands. “I guess the idea of Buck as a pretend husband does seem kinda crazy, when I think about it,” she admitted. “Anyway, enough about me. How long has Buck had a drinking problem?”