Читать книгу Cowboy Lullaby - Sasha Summers - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Tandy washed every dish in Lynnie’s kitchen. She cleaned out the refrigerator and swept and mopped the floor. She was hiding. She knew it and she didn’t care. Until her cousins were ready to go, this was where she would stay. Cleaning was how she processed.

And dammit, she had so much to process.

She’d known seeing Click would be hard. But their past had nothing to do with losing Lynnie. And then... Today had been beyond expectation. He...he was a father.

Fourteen months.

If her heart hadn’t already been shredded, this would have done it.

She’d told him to move on. And he had.

Wasted no time.

Fourteen months. Their time together hadn’t been as special as she’d thought—to him anyway. He’d waited, what, weeks? That baby was evidence of that. She’d been catatonic, consumed by sadness. And guilt—guilt that chipped away what was left of her heart.

He’d been in bed with someone—

She couldn’t think about it, couldn’t stand it. It hurt. Deep, raw and angry.

“You’re exhausting,” Renata said, having planted herself on a kitchen stool seconds before.

Tandy smiled, rinsing out the sponge.

“I say we go get drunk,” Renata said. “It’s the only option.”

Tandy shot her a look. “How do you figure that?”

“My brain can’t stop spinning. I can only imagine what’s going through yours.” Renata’s blue eyes met hers.

She was pretty sure alcohol wasn’t going to fix a thing. Still, she knew her heart wasn’t the only one hurting right now. “Scarlett’s okay with it?” she asked.

“She will be.” Renata winked.

Tandy shook her head and carried the mop bucket out the back screen door, letting it slam behind her. Poor Scarlett—she’d have no say-so in their plans for the evening. But spending a night chatting with Uncle Woodrow and Aunt Evelyn wasn’t Tandy’s ideal way to unwind. She was too wound up. They’d only make it worse. Maybe a drink or two wasn’t a bad idea. Anything to help her forget for a while.

Banshee jumped up from his place on the deck, pushing his massive head under her hand. She patted him, dumped the dirty water out and leaned against the railing, gasping for breath. The past was over and done with. She had no right to feel anything. None. So her anger was a shock. But she was. Really angry.

Worse, she hurt.

I’m done hurting over the past.

Banshee head-butted her hand, groaning in the back of his throat. She rubbed behind his ear, his silky fur calming her. A little.

Fourteen months? Fourteen months. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Didn’t want to.

“Is that Tandy Boone?”

Tandy jumped, spinning on her heel. “Brody?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I didn’t know you were here. Last I heard, you were wheeling and dealing in Dallas, or something.”

“Just got here. Nothing like a funeral to get people together again.” Brody Wallace’s hug was warm. “I make the trip once a month, or when Dad needs me. He’s never fully recovered from his stroke last fall. Not that he’d admit it or say I was anything other than a nuisance.”

“You’re being a good son to check in on him so regularly. No thoughts of taking over the family businesses yet?” she asked.

“Soon, maybe.” Brody smiled. “I came to pay my respects. Lynnie Hale was a rare breed.”

Tandy nodded. “She was that.”

“What brings you back to Fort Kyle?” Brody’s brown eyes did a quick head-to-toe. “Not that I’m not glad to see you and all. Who is this?” he asked, nodding at Banshee.

“Banshee, my best friend, of course. We moved for a new job at the veterinary clinic.” She squinted into the setting sun, the fence between Lynnie’s and Uncle Woodrow’s property visible. And just beyond the fence line sat one of Uncle Woodrow’s hunting cabins. Wildflowers carpeted the space between, vibrant pinks and reds and blues a stark contrast to the rugged beauty of West Texas. Nothing like the rolling hills she’d left behind in Stonewall Crossing. Please God, don’t let this move be a mistake.

“So you’ll be around for a while?” he asked.

She shrugged, everything she’d known a few hours ago no longer certain. The job here paid ridiculously well, and she still needed some distance from all the weddings and babies in Stonewall Crossing. She was happy for her family and loved them dearly, but it was hard. “We’ll see.” She rubbed on Banshee then, smiling into his golden eyes.

“What’s taking so long? You better not be scrubbing the porch or sweeping the rafters—” Renata’s eyes went round when she spied Brody. “Brody Wallace, what are you doing out here?”

Brody laughed. “Enjoying the view.” He caught Renata in a big hug. “Damn good to see you, Renata.”

“You, too.” Renata clapped his shoulders. “You should come with us tonight. We can catch up.”

Brody looked back and forth between them. “Where are you going?”

“The Tumbleweed,” Renata said. “Drinks are definitely in order.”

Brody nodded. “I could use a drink. Any other Boones around?”

Tandy shook her head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “If you’re asking if Uncle Woodrow is here, the answer is no. It’s just me, Renata and Scarlett.”

He winked. “He’s not real fond of me. Guess it’s the last name.” As far as Tandy knew, the Wallace-Boone animosity began and ended with the current patriarchs.

“Is that why you’re hanging around outside?” Tandy asked.

He shrugged. “No point adding more stress to the day.”

“Agreed. We’ll meet you there, around seven,” Renata said, waving at him before tugging Tandy back into the kitchen. “No more. I’m guessing you’re as ready to go as I am?”

Tandy nodded. “You get Scarlett, I’ll get the truck.”

Renata nodded, her blue eyes full of sympathy once more. “If it helps, he’s in Lynnie’s room with...with his daughter.”

Tandy frowned, straightening. “I’m not hiding from him,” she lied. If she was avoiding him it was because she was afraid she’d cause a scene. Not by yelling, that wasn’t her style. But crying a river of tears was a surefire way to get people talking. Her cheeks were flaming as she headed from the kitchen to the front door.

“Tandy, there you are.” Miss Francis gripped her arm. “We hoped you’d play Lynnie’s favorite hymn for us. It was too quiet at the service today, what with Mr. Magee’s arthritis making it hard for him to play. Seems wrong, don’t you think? With her love of music and all.”

She wanted to argue and get the hell out of there. But how could she? Miss Francis was right. She could do this—for Lynnie.

“Yes. Of course.” With a glance at Scarlett and Renata, she made her way to the piano. She sat, running her finger along the newly polished surface before sliding the lid back. She took a deep breath, stretched her fingers and began. No one needed to tell her what Lynnie’s favorite hymn was. Lynnie had hummed “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” all the time. She said prayer was really a long-distance call to Jesus, that he was always listening.

Tandy played, the straightforward notes and simple rhythm flowing from her without thought. She could almost hear Lynnie, knitting in her rocking chair, humming along. Voices joined in, filling the small parlor with song. She sang, too, the words long ago etched into her brain. By the time she was done, there were tears on her cheeks. Happy, thankful tears for the privilege of knowing such a strong and giving woman. Sorrow that such a life force was gone. And yet, she was one of the gifted few to know and love Lynnie Hale.

“That was perfect, darling girl,” Miss Francis said, pulling her into a tight embrace before Tandy had managed to stand. “She loved to hear you play, loved that you loved music so.”

Music was a comfort. Thanks to Lynnie, she’d mastered the piano, the guitar, the banjo and the dulcimer. Creating music and lyrics eased wounds and hurts too deep to ever fully heal. “She didn’t give me much choice,” Tandy said, wiping her cheeks. “I’m not sure I ever thanked her for that.”

Beyond Miss Francis, Renata and Scarlett waited—crying and leaning on each other. Brody Wallace had come inside and had an arm around each of them.

And Click, stony and rigid, watched her from the door.

Black hair. Strong jaw. Tall and broad and muscled. Blue-green eyes that pierced her soul. Nothing had changed. Nothing. Except all the pleasure his presence used to stir was replaced with something jagged and sad and cold. She tore her gaze from his, sheer determination the only thing that kept her from breaking down right there in the middle of Lynnie’s formal parlor.

“I’d say that was the perfect way to end the day. We’d best get,” Widow Riley said. “You need anything, Click? With your baby girl and all?”

The need to leave quadrupled. She didn’t want to think about Click and his baby girl. She couldn’t. It hurt too much.

“Yeah, Click,” Brody joined in. “We’re going into town, to the Tumbleweed, if you want to join us?”

Tandy wanted to sink through the floorboards at her feet.

Scarlett and Renata stared at her, their expressions revealing the horror and dread bouncing around in her stomach.

“He can’t go gallivanting.” Widow Riley’s disapproval was clear. “He’s a father. I’m sure Pearl’s mama wouldn’t approve.”

With a wave, Tandy was out the front door, almost tripping on the wooden steps in her haste to get away. “Banshee, load up,” she called out. Banshee came trotting around the porch, racing her to the truck and jumping into the truck bed and his waiting kennel.

Maybe she was overreacting. Okay, she was overreacting. Still, she didn’t want to hear what was next. She didn’t want to know about Click’s wife, his marriage, his perfect family life. If she was lucky, he’d sell Lynnie’s place and leave soon enough and she’d never have to see or hear the name Click Hale again. She hadn’t been lucky in a real long time.

“I take it you’re ready?” Renata asked, jogging to catch up.

She glared at her cousin, climbing into her truck and turning on the air-conditioning. “Scarlett coming?”

Renata nodded. “You sort of sprinted out of there.”

Tandy’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “He’s not coming, is he?” she managed.

“I don’t think so.” Renata’s hand gripped her forearm, squeezing gently. “I know things fell apart between you, but I’d like to think he’s still a little decent?”

Tandy rested her forehead on the steering wheel. “He...was.” But seeing his daughter made her pause. Fourteen months. What did that say about him? The sting of tears infuriated her. She’d been lost in anguish and guilt so heavy it had almost crushed her. He’d started a family.

More important, what did that say about the love he’d claimed to feel for her? She had yet to date, let alone think about being intimate with another man. If he’d really loved her the way he said he did, how could he? No matter what she said and did, the grief was there every second of every day—a gnawing, aching pain. How could he replace her? How could he replace their...their daughter so easily?

It hurt to breathe.

“You sure you guys want to do this?” Scarlett asked, pulling the truck door closed behind her.

“Yes,” Tandy said, throwing the truck in gear. She no longer doubted the logic behind Renata’s reasoning. “Absolutely sure.” A couple of shots were the only way she’d get any sleep tonight.

* * *

CLICK STOOD, STARING down the dirt road. The stone house was quiet now, too quiet. Only Brody and Miss Francis were left. And, suddenly, Click was in no hurry to see them go.

“What the hell was that about?” Brody asked. “You and Tandy?”

“How much time do you have?” Click asked, only partly teasing. He liked Brody Wallace well enough. Not that they’d spent a lot of time together—Brody’s parents worried about Click being a bad influence on their only son.

“Sure it’s hard on her,” Miss Francis said. “Poor thing is her age, without a man or child to care for. And then you show up, with a sweet little angel to boot.” She smiled at Pearl. “Can I?” she asked, holding out her hands.

Pearl didn’t object, so he didn’t either. After holding her for hours, it felt odd to have empty arms.

“First love is always the hardest to get over,” Miss Francis said, bouncing Pearl on her hip. “If I recall correctly, you two had it bad.”

Click didn’t correct the older woman. But he knew the truth. Tandy wasn’t jealous, she was disgusted. She couldn’t stand to be in his presence. She’d made that perfectly clear two years ago, so broken and withdrawn in that damn hospital bed. And now this—Pearl—so soon after... He could barely look himself in the eye.

Miss Francis was right about recovering, though. He’d met Tandy over twenty years ago, and she still made his heart skip a beat.

“When will Pearl’s mama be joining you?” Miss Francis asked.

“She won’t,” Click was quick to answer.

Georgia wouldn’t be visiting for some time. The drug treatment facility she’d signed herself into lasted a minimum of sixty days. He was proud of her for getting the help she desperately needed, but he was devastated that it had taken her so long to get it. Not that he’d known. He’d left Tandy in the hospital and headed to a bar. That drunken weekend with Georgia was a blur of alcohol and grief. He’d been out of his mind and broken. They’d parted ways at weekend’s end, and he hadn’t heard or seen her since. Until a week ago. Her phone call had changed his life.

“So you’re in this on your own?” Brody piped up.

Click sighed. “Yep.”

“This a new development?” Miss Francis asked. “Don’t get your tail feathers ruffled when I say this, but you look a little green when it comes to caretaking this baby.”

“That I am.” Click nodded, smiling at his daughter. One of Pearl’s little fingers worried the beadwork on Miss Francis’s sweater. “I was bringing Pearl here, counting on Lynnie to show me what to do. But now...” He shook his head, staring around the house. After chastising him for having a child out of wedlock, Lynnie would have been over the moon about Pearl. She loved babies, loved children. It was one of the great injustices of life that he’d been born to people like his parents while a woman like Lynnie Hale was childless.

“Oh, Lynnie would eat her up,” Miss Francis said, smiling at Pearl. “She’s the sweetest thing, Click. You’re a lucky man.”

He reminded himself of that regularly. Pearl was healthy. Considering Georgia’s drug problem, that was nothing short of a miracle. He had no way of knowing if she’d used through her pregnancy, no way of knowing what his daughter had been exposed to the first year of her life. He’d been hard-pressed to believe Pearl was his, but the DNA test had confirmed it, and Click stepped up. If he hadn’t, his daughter would be in CPS custody.

“I’m going to miss your Gramma Lynnie, too,” Miss Francis said to Pearl. “Who am I going to quilt with? Or go to ladies’ meetings with? Or drive me into Alpine now and then to shop—I hate driving in traffic.”

Click grinned. There was no traffic in Fort Kyle. There were four lights, around town square, and nothing else. Alpine wasn’t much bigger. “I’ll drive you.”

Miss Francis smiled. “I’ll take you up on that, Click.”

“Guess I should be heading out,” Brody said. “Not often I get a night out. Not that Fort Kyle’s nightlife can compare to the Dallas scene.”

“Enjoy it,” Click said.

Brody held his hand out. “I’m glad you’re back, Click, even if I’m sorry for the circumstances. It’ll be nice to have someone male from this generation around when I visit.”

Click shook his hand. “Thanks.”

Miss Francis laughed. “S’pose Fort Kyle is more for those already settled.”

Click looked at his daughter. He was settled now, as settled as he planned to get. He didn’t know where he and Pearl would end up, but he’d make sure she had a roof over her head and food in her little stomach. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d had growing up.

“Have fun,” Click said.

“Be safe,” Miss Francis joined in. “Roads get awful dark. Drinking’s not going to help.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Brody said, tipping his hat her way, and leaving.

Pearl cooed, her gurgling noises a mystery to him. But she looked so damn cute, all big eyes, button nose and bubble-blowing lips, he was hard-pressed not to laugh.

“You got what you need?” Miss Francis asked. “Baby supplies?”

He shrugged. “Still figuring that out. Diapers, wipes, food, bottles, formula, car seat and a foldable bed.”

“Clothing?” Miss Francis asked, her brow furrowing.

He nodded. “Enough.”

“I have four children and thirteen grandchildren, Click Hale. If you need a thing, I’m a phone call away, you hear me?” Miss Francis asked. “How long have you had her?”

“A week.”

Miss Francis stared at him. “A surprise?”

He nodded.

“You go take yourself a shower and a nap, if you want. Me and little miss here will do just fine.” Miss Francis waved him away. “Or, if you’re not tired, you go on and join Brody and the girls. Might do you some good to get out for a while.”

Click almost argued. Almost. “I’ll hit the shower.” He nodded, heading toward the guest room he’d always stayed in when he visited Lynnie. It didn’t feel right to stay in her room. He stood under the hot water and closed his eyes. He half expected her to bang on the bathroom door to remind him to get behind his ears—like she’d always done. Like he could get filthy behind his ears. He hadn’t minded, though. It’d been nice to know someone cared if he was clean or not.

The last week he’d showered with the curtain and bathroom door wide open—in case Pearl had needed him. He was terrified she’d climb out of her bed or get out of their hotel room or pull something dangerous into her crib. None of which made sense since he went a little overboard baby-proofing wherever they went. He had one job, keeping her safe. The money he’d saved up on the rodeo circuit, first riding pickup then scouting stock, was enough to get by on for now. He planned on staying at Lynnie’s place for a while, until he had to leave. He hoped he had some regrouping time before that happened.

He climbed out of the shower and dried off. He ran a hand over his tattoo, a barbed-wire band circling his upper left arm. Tandy’s name was forever inked on his skin. With a sigh, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into his bedroom. But lying on the bed, staring at the spinning ceiling fan overhead, wasn’t relaxing. His brain was too caught up in sifting through the events of the day.

He ran a hand through his wet hair and sat up.

He should stay put. Miss Francis was giving him time to sleep, without jumping up every time Pearl squeaked or fussed. If he lay there long enough, his mind would shut off and he’d get some sleep. That’s what he should do.

He should not get up, drive his sorry ass into Fort Kyle and straight to the Tumbleweed. He should not make this day worse than it already was. She didn’t want him there. Hell, she’d all but run from the house when Brody mentioned it. Going would do nothing but make him hurt worse.

He snorted, doubting that was possible. Besides, pain was part of his daily life. It reminded him he was alive and breathing. His mind wandered immediately to her.

Tandy.

The three seconds she’d looked at him... His heart had thumped in his chest, every nerve alive and firing. He swallowed, remembering every detail of her face. Eyes so deep and rich he’d happily drown in their hazel-green depths. Golden hair thick and soft, silk beneath the fingers, he knew. Her smile, for Pearl, had been so bright. That’s what Tandy was—the light in his otherwise dark life.