Читать книгу The Cowboy's Return - Susan Crosby - Страница 10

Annie tried to remember what she knew of Marissa. Had she spoken of an ex-husband? Their conversations had taken place at the boys’ school, at PTA events and bake sales and back-to-school night, or when one of the boys was being dropped off or picked up. Brief conversations about nothing in particular.

“If she has a thirteen-year-old son,” Annie said, “you must have been really young when you were married.”

“Older than you were, I think,” he said. “You’re thirty and have a ten-year-old.”

“Touché.” She smiled, not taking offense.

“She was my only girlfriend. We’d started dating when I was a junior and she was a sophomore, then got married when I was twenty-one. It lasted a year.”

“So, she’s from around here? I got the impression she’d moved here fairly recently.”

“She moved away before the divorce was final. I heard she’d remarried and was pregnant. I hadn’t heard she was back. But then, I’ve been gone.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Let’s just say our divorce was not amicable. What were the chances that Austin and her son are friends?”

“I can’t ask Austin not to go, Mitch.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that.” He shrugged. “Well, what happens, happens. It only means my father would know I’m back. Doesn’t change anything.”

Annie studied him, wondering why he didn’t want to go home. He’d said he and his family weren’t estranged, but something was keeping them apart.

“I’m gonna work on the coop until dinner,” he said, then walked out the door.

She returned to the kitchen. She’d put up a large quantity of tomatoes last year and used one of her last jars now to make spaghetti sauce. While she worked, she considered Mitch’s comment that his divorce wasn’t amicable. Hers had been, or reasonably so. She’d wanted the farm and Austin, and Rick hadn’t fought her on either, hadn’t even asked for joint custody. He called Austin every so often, sent him “guilt” gifts, but otherwise had stopped being his parent.

When Austin was younger and less jaded, he’d cried a lot because of things his father did or didn’t do. Now he was more philosophical about it, especially once she’d convinced him it had nothing to do with him, but his father’s immaturity. She always said Rick loved him—and he did—but that he just didn’t know how to show it.

If she gave Rick more credit than he deserved, that was okay. She only cared about how Austin felt.

She and Rick had parted ways with sadness but resignation. They were better apart.

So, what did “not amicable” mean? And why? Could she ask Mitch about it or wait for him tell her when—or if—he was ready?

“None of your business,” she muttered as she added herbs to her tomato sauce. Except—had it scarred him in a permanent way?

“Really none of your business,” she said aloud. She’d gathered greens from the garden earlier and now ripped them into pieces for salad, uncomfortable with how invested she already was in the stranger.

She leaned around the kitchen door to speak to her son. “Time to wrap it up, honey.”

“Hey, Annie!” Marissa shouted then came into the picture. “How’re you doing?”

Annie wiped her hands on a kitchen towel as she approached the computer and crouched over Austin’s shoulder. “Everything’s going well. How about you?”

“We found out I’m pregnant. With twins. Surprise!”

Annie felt a twinge of envy. “Congratulations.”

Marissa laughed. “Maybe. Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow around twelve-thirty.”

“Thanks for inviting him.”

The screen went blank. “Go see if you can help Mitch with the coop, please. It’ll be about a half hour until dinner.”

“Okay.”

Usually Bo was at his feet, but he’d already followed Mitch into the yard.

Annie plopped into the computer chair. Marissa had always seemed fun and upbeat. She was pretty, although she wore quite a bit of makeup and always had her hair fixed just so. But then, maybe Marissa thought Annie didn’t spruce herself up enough.

She tried to picture Mitch and Marissa together. She was tall and slender, when she wasn’t pregnant, anyway. They would look good as a couple.

But looking good has nothing to do with being right for each other.

“For heaven’s sake, stop obsessing,” she muttered, returning to the kitchen, prepping the garlic bread and finishing the salad before she called them in, wishing she had some hamburger to add to the sauce.

By the time dinner was over, the dishes were done, and the chickens rounded up, they all landed in front of the television, worn-out.

“Thanks for repairing the coop,” she said to Mitch.

“Won’t hold forever.”

“The story of my life.” She smiled. “I should rename this place Superglue Farm.”

Austin was channel surfing but laughed.

“Does the farm have a name?” Mitch asked. “There isn’t a sign out front.”

“The Barn Yard. I had to get rid of the old sign, there was so little left of it. Someday I’ll build a new one.”

“You’ve got plenty of wood from the old greenhouse,” Mitch said. “Rustic is a popular look, I understand.”

“You mean I’d be in style? Imagine that.”

“Austin and I could build you a sign in the morning before we finish up the high tunnel.”

“Don’t forget I won’t be here after lunch,” Austin said earnestly. “And I don’t wanna be too dirty before they come pick me up.”

Mitch smiled, appreciating the ploy for what it was. He’d tried to get out of work when he was that age, too, had gotten just as creative. “Well, maybe we should go build it now instead, before you shower.”

Austin looked toward his mother, as if she would get him out of it somehow.

But Annie only said, “I’ve got some outdoor paint in the barn.”

“Aw, Mom.”

Annie glanced at Mitch, her brows raised in question. He gave her a thumbs-up then a thumbs-down. She considered it for a few seconds then turned her thumb down.

Mitch was struck by the sense they were working as a team. Parenting. It took him a moment to come up with something to say to the boy. “I guess you’ve worked hard enough for one day. But as for tomorrow, you know you can take a shower after lunch. I’d planned on having you dig a trench for the water lines in the high tunnel.”

“Me? But … you’re the one with all the muscles!”

Mitch laughed. “Gotcha.”

Austin dived at Mitch, laughing, too. They tussled a bit. Bo joined in, too, at first protectively then barking and hopping, as if playing the game. It took Mitch back to childhood, wrestling with his brothers, challenging each other.

Austin finally sat back, panting, rubbing his hands down Bo’s fur as he panted, too. “That was fun!”

“Who wants dessert?” Annie asked, standing.

“We have dessert?” Austin’s eyes went wide. “Or just peaches?”

“Sugar cookies.”

Austin’s arm shot up. “Me, Mom!”

Mitch mimicked him. “Me, boss!”

Austin finally found a TV program he wanted to watch. Annie was in the kitchen. Mitch had time to think. He should tell Annie his last name before she found out another way. If Austin talked about him and Marissa figured out her ex-husband was hiding out at the Barnard place, she would spread the word, maybe not maliciously but the result would be same.

On the other hand, if Mitch told Annie, she would jump to the conclusion that he’d been there on behalf of his father. Why else keep his last name to himself? He doubted there was anything he could say to change her mind about that.

Hell, he wouldn’t believe him, either.

Not wanting to examine it further, he went into the kitchen. “Need help?”

He caught her crying, quietly, smiling unapologetically, dabbing at her tears. “Thank you for playing with Austin. He’s missed out on so much, especially family life.”

Mitch let her words sink in then came close, keeping his voice low. “I’m not going to be here long, Annie.”

“Oh, I know. I know. It was just fun to see him like that. I know you’re leaving.”

Maybe he should go now, before the boy got too attached. He hadn’t considered that. He’d just been enjoying him. “There are other places I can stay, you know. I could come back during the day and work, then not hang around. Then when the work’s done …”

He let the words trail off, because he didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He should be just as worried about the attachments he was forming as he was about Austin. And Annie, too, maybe. Although hers might just be physical.

“Marissa is pregnant with twins,” Annie said into his swirling thoughts.

The Marissa he knew had never wanted kids—although he didn’t learn that until after the wedding. “She’ll have four, then?”

“Five. She has a daughter younger than Ben.”

He realized Annie was watching him for a reaction. “Well, good for her.”

She’d stacked cookies on a plate and poured milk for all of them. He picked up two glasses and headed to the living room. From that point, the evening was more subdued. Austin showered and went to bed when told. Annie went next.

Mitch couldn’t deal with being within hearing range of her showering, so he went outside and sat on the glider. Bo came along, abandoning Austin’s bed when he heard the front door open.

The quiet night washed over Mitch in soothing waves. It wasn’t quite dark yet. The sun had set but the sky held a tinge of orange and purple. It would fade soon, too soon. He’d always loved summer evenings, the welcome cooling after a long day of being out in the sun.

She’d created a home. He understood why she was fighting so hard to keep it. He had a house he’d hadn’t seen in three years, one he’d helped build and he’d missed it like crazy, but he’d figured he would appreciate it even more when he came back. Now he had a hankering to see it again, to sleep in his own bed.

He must have made a noise because Bo whined then set his head in Mitch’s lap as if sympathetic. He hadn’t felt homesick while he was in Argentina, just sick with grief, which had lessened in time, and guilt, which hadn’t.

He’d been able to set aside his anger and disappointment when his marriage ended after a much shorter period of time, and had barely thought about Marissa for years. Now here she was, back in Red Valley, mother of three and pregnant with twins. He’d never known someone could change to the degree she had. Not even close.

Bo hopped up a moment before the door opened and Annie came out. Mitch stood, offering the glider to her.

She waved him off. “I just wanted to say good night.”

“Night.” He couldn’t get rid of the image of her crying because he’d played with her son. She might be strong, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel the same things every mother felt.

She didn’t move.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“I’ve been considering asking Austin to keep your secret.”

Mitch moved toward her. “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to ask him to lie.”

“He wouldn’t be lying, just not talking about you. There’s a difference.”

“Why would you do that, Annie?”

“Because I trust you. I think you must have good reasons for keeping your identity a secret.”

“For the moment. Not forever.”

“I understand that. I think we can enlist Austin for a short time.”

Mitch considered it, but not for long. “I’m willing to let fate have her way.”

“Fate’s a she?”

“Isn’t she? The three goddesses of mythology, if I recall ninth-grade English correctly. Anyway, we all know women control human destiny.”

“We do?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Are you thinking about Marissa?”

“Not at all. Just life in general. From my experience, anyway. In relationships, women lead the way, therefore have control.”

She leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms. “I’m going to take a stab at this—you have trust issues.”

“I—” Did he? He’d known Marissa for years before they got married, and she’d been hiding her dreams and desires all that time, not cluing him in on the important issues a couple should settle before they marry. “Maybe I do. How about you?”

“No, although I’m careful. I’m too tired to have issues of any kind.” She smiled in a way that touched his heart, then she patted his chest lightly and went indoors.

He put a hand where hers had been.

He wanted to believe her, that she didn’t have issues, but it couldn’t possibly be true. He hadn’t met a woman who didn’t harbor secrets about herself. They always revealed themselves in time. Which hadn’t stopped him from enjoying their company, but had stopped him from letting himself become involved in what might be considered a real relationship.

He wasn’t giving up half of what he’d built ever again. Once burned, twice shy, that was his touchstone.

Mitch snapped his fingers at Bo to go inside with him. A shower would feel good. A back rub would feel better.

Spending some quality time with Annie in bed would be perfect.

And tomorrow they would be alone for a few hours.

Also tomorrow the truth about him might be revealed.

Maybe it was just all meant to be.