Cowboy Defender. Carla Cassidy

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СКАЧАТЬ Mary Nakni, always had beautiful paintings done by Mary as well as Choctaw-related items for sale. Halena was one of the town’s more colorful characters and it was always fun to see what she was up to.

      “You know I always love to show off my grandbabies,” Katherine replied.

      “And you know how much they love you,” Miranda replied.

      The two women visited for the next fifteen minutes or so and then hung up. Her mother always made light of the chronic pain that she suffered, but Miranda worried about her. Katherine had tried several medications to help her, but they had all made her violently ill, so the only thing she took now was an occasional pain pill to get her through the particularly bad days.

      The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Miranda cleaned and worked on the pile of laundry that seemed never-ending with two active kids, and then all too quickly it was bedtime.

      Sunday mornings she always went to church and hated the fact that her children weren’t there with her. Lori had told her she was trying to get Hank to take them all to church on Sunday mornings, but so far it hadn’t happened.

      It was six o’clock that evening when Hank and the kids appeared back on her doorstep. As Henry and Jenny ran into the house, Miranda stepped out onto the porch with Hank.

      “I hope they were good for you and Lori,” she said.

      “They’re always good for us, but what’s this I hear about Clay Madison coming over here to teach my boy baseball?”

      “Henry asked him and he agreed. As I recall, Henry has asked you to help him several times and you always tell him you don’t know anything about baseball.”

      Hank had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Still, I’m not sure I want that particular cowboy hanging around here. You’d better watch out for him, Miranda. He’s been known to turn a woman’s head. From what I hear he’s a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy.”

      “Trust me, my head isn’t in any danger of turning in any man’s direction,” she replied firmly. The last thing she wanted was to give her heart away to another man who might or might not take good care of it. She was just not willing to play the odds, especially with a man who had a reputation like Clay Madison’s.

      Hank pulled out his wallet and opened it. “The kids told me you bought them some new summer clothes.” He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “I know it isn’t much, but this will help a little. You know as soon as I get some full-time work I’ll make things easier on you.”

      “I know, Hank.” If good intentions were cash, then Hank would be a wealthy man, but she’d stopped expecting much of anything from him. Still, the twenty dollars would help toward the carnival-ride expenses. “I’m planning on taking the kids to the carnival on Friday night.”

      “That’s good. They’ll have a great time,” he replied. “They were both already talking about what rides they wanted to ride and all the carnival junk food they wanted to eat.”

      “They can ride whatever they want, but limits will be set on the junk food consumption,” she replied with a laugh.

      He smiled at her. “You’re a good mother, Miranda. We might see you there on Friday night, but if I don’t see you then, I’ll see you next Saturday to pick up the kids.”

      “They’ll be ready,” she replied.

      Goodbyes were said and Hank returned to the truck.

      The rest of the evening passed quickly with baths and bedtime for the kids. It was only when she was in her own bed that she realized within the next fourteen or fifteen hours Clay Madison might or might not show up at her house. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

      At three-thirty on Monday afternoon Clay showered and put on clean jeans and a long-sleeved navy polo shirt. A thrum of excitement rode with him as he got into his truck and headed toward Miranda’s house.

      On the passenger seat were two new ball gloves, a couple of baseballs and a good wooden bat he’d bought on Saturday. He didn’t know if Henry owned a decent glove or not, but he would after today.

      He was definitely looking forward to working with Henry. He’d forgotten how much he’d once loved baseball until he’d tried on a glove in the store.

      Immediately he’d remembered the crack of a bat hitting the ball, the shouts and cheers from the parents who sat on bleachers and the joy of running full-tilt for a base.

      There was no question he hoped there would be an audience of one for the practice today. He could imagine Miranda sitting on her front stoop while he and Henry played in the front yard.

      They would be able to talk and maybe laugh together. He’d love to ask her out on a date, but he had a feeling if he did that right now she’d shoot him down quicker than a wild mustang could disappear in the pasture.

      Still, the excitement ratcheted up a bit as he turned down the tree-lined street where Miranda lived. It was a perfect day to toss around a baseball. The sky was a robin’s-egg blue and the temperature had climbed to the mid-seventies.

      He parked his truck at the curb in front of her place and got out. Her house was a two-story painted white with forest-green shutters. A nice wraparound porch sporting a couple of pots with colorful petunias added to the appeal.

      From a distance it appeared to be attractive and in good condition, but as he walked toward the porch he noticed that the wobbly wooden steps definitely needed some work and the paint on the shutters was faded and peeling.

      Before he could knock on the door, it opened and Henry bounded outside. Clad in a pair of shorts and a bright blue T-shirt, he looked ready to play.

      “Hi, Mr. Clay. I’m so happy that you’re here. I wasn’t sure if you’d really come or not.” He held in his hand a baseball glove that looked like it had been bought in a toy store.

      “I promised I’d come and so I’m here. How about you trade that glove in for this one.” Clay handed him the new ball glove.

      “For real?” Henry’s blue eyes widened.

      “For real,” Clay replied and looked just over the boy’s shoulder to see if he might catch a glimpse of Miranda, but there was no sign of her.

      “Like, it’s mine forever?” Henry asked.

      Clay laughed. “Yes, like, it’s yours forever.”

      A lump of unexpected emotion leaped into Clay’s throat when the young boy threw his arms around Clay’s waist and hugged him tight. “Thank you, Mr. Clay.” He finally released Clay and stepped back. He put his old glove down on the porch and placed the new one on his hand.

      “Does your mom know I’m here?” Clay asked.

      “Yeah, I told her when you pulled up in front of the house.”

      “Okay, then let’s get started.” Clay couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when he started playing catch with Henry and Miranda didn’t make any kind of an appearance.

      For the next hour the two of them threw the ball back and forth to each other. Clay showed the boy how to keep СКАЧАТЬ