A Son For The Cowboy. Sasha Summers

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СКАЧАТЬ such a baby,” Otis snapped. “Get over it.”

      “You two can set the table.” She spoke calmly, ignoring the exchange.

      Dot’s response came quickly. “Why do we have to—”

      “Because I asked you to,” she said, her tone never fluctuating. “Thank you. Rowdy, can you see what our guest would like to drink?”

      She saw her son’s quick glance at Toben, the bright red patches coloring his cheeks. Her boy was nervous. She looked Toben’s way, hoping he’d see his son’s discomfort. But...Toben looked exactly the same as Rowdy. Red cheeked, nervous, uncertain.

      “Sure,” Rowdy said. “Want something to drink?”

      “Iced tea?” Toben asked.

      “Sweet or unsweet?” Rowdy nodded. “There’s only one right answer.”

      She laughed. So did Toben.

      “Sweet,” Toben said.

      Rowdy nodded. “Yep.”

      Toben looked at her, his smile fading, to be replaced by something else. Anger? Sadness? She didn’t know. She didn’t know how to read this man. Not that it mattered. They were going to have to figure this out—together.

      “Dinner is edible,” she assured him. “Must have been something on the cooking element and the place started smoking.”

      “I brought dessert,” he said, pointing at a pie in the center of the table.

      “You cook?” Rowdy asked.

      “You made this?” Otis asked. “I’m not eating it. Who are you?”

      “Why is he here, Aunt Poppy?” Dot asked.

      “Mr. Boone is a friend of mine,” Poppy said. “We used to rodeo together.”

      “And he’s my dad,” Rowdy said. The smile he shot Toben made Poppy’s heart melt. Pure, honest, sweet and so full of love.

      Toben was equally affected. He nodded at Rowdy. “I am.”

      “Huh,” Otis said. “You do look like him. Wow. You look just like him.”

      “You’ve got Aunt Poppy’s hair color. And her brown eyes,” Dot argued. “But yeah, other than that.”

      “Good thing I’m a good-looking guy,” Toben said, winking at Rowdy.

      Rowdy’s laugh filled the room.

      “So you two weren’t married?” Dot asked. “That’s wrong.”

      “Mom and Dad say you’re not supposed to do...that...until after you’re married,” Otis offered, poking the pie with a fork as he set the table.

      “And they’re right,” Poppy agreed, tension mounting.

      “So you were married?” Otis pushed.

      “Did you make fried chicken?” Toben asked. “It smells like fried chicken.”

      “She did.” Rowdy nodded. “It’s my favorite.”

      “Mine, too,” Toben agreed, his blue eyes never leaving Rowdy.

      Dinner went well. She and Toben did their best to keep conversation from getting too awkward. Which meant preventing Dot and Otis from saying too much. Her niece was almost twelve and Otis was ten, and they knew just enough to make things awkward fairly often. But once dinner was over and she was loading plates into the rickety dishwasher, Rowdy asked, “Can we go for a walk? Just me and...my dad?”

      “You...” She broke off. “Where?”

      “The barn and back?” Rowdy suggested. “I can show him where Cheeto and Stormy will live.”

      She wiped her hands on the dish towel, hoping it hid her shaking. “Sure.”

      “We can have pie when we get back?” Rowdy asked, looking up at Toben.

      “Toben might have to go. Work starts early on a ranch—”

      “Pie after sounds good,” Toben interrupted, not looking at her.

      “I want ice cream,” Otis chimed in.

      Poppy stared at her sister’s children, disappointed in their lack of manners. “Ice cream, sure. Feel like playing a board game?”

      They looked at her like she was the crazy one.

      “No?” she asked. “Okay.”

      “I’ll play when we get back, Mom,” Rowdy said, walking out of the kitchen.

      Poppy served Dot and Otis ice cream, washed the dinner dishes and half-heartedly unpacked a box—her gaze drifting out the window again and again to see Toben and Rowdy side by side. Plaid shirts, straw cowboy hats, well-worn leather cowboy boots and polished belt buckles. But it was more than their matching getups. Her boy was the mirror image of the man.

      And she didn’t know how she felt about that.

      Then her attention wandered to Toben Boone’s delectable rear. Those jeans. That butt. It was quite a view. She scrubbed the skillet with renewed vigor.

      “Aunt Poppy, can we call Mom?” Dot asked. “I miss her.”

      “I’m sure she’s missing you, too,” Poppy agreed. “You can call her.”

      “Okay,” Dot said, slipping from the table, leaving half of her ice cream untouched and hurrying to the guest bedroom.

      “If she’s not going to eat it.” Otis pulled his sister’s bowl closer.

      “Is there anything you’d like to do, Otis, now that we’re here?” she asked, sitting across the table from him. “The river’s at the bottom of the hill. We could go tubing.” If the water was up. Considering how hot it had been this afternoon, she’d sit in a puddle if it helped cool things off.

      He frowned at her. “Tubing?”

      “Float down the river,” she explained. “In an inner tube.”

      “Why would we do that?” He spooned ice cream into his mouth. “Isn’t there a pool?”

      She stood again and peered out the window. Rowdy and Toben were almost to the barn. “No, there’s no pool here.” Why would she and Rowdy need a pool when the Medina River was practically in their backyard?

      “Man, this place stinks.” His spoon clattered in his bowl.

      By the time she’d turned around, Otis had joined Dot in the guest room, the floor squeaking with each step. So the house needed more work than she’d realized. But it didn’t stink. She eyed the stove. Okay, maybe it did stink a little. She wiped down the kitchen counter, trying not to stare out СКАЧАТЬ