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Authors: Holley Trent

Teaching the Cowboy (21 page)

BOOK: Teaching the Cowboy
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Sid balled her hands into tight fists and pressed them against her hips. She closed her eyes and allowed herself one inhale and one exhale to gather her words. When she opened them again, Eddie’s face was a blank.

What does he think I’m going to do? Keep the quilt?

She scratched her head and the messy bun fell loose. “We never really had a conversation about the value of a quilt like this.”

His bright eyes narrowed.

Sid cringed.

“Well, I may just be a dumb cowboy, but I planned to pay you more than the cost of a typical department store quilt.” His thumbs pried the edges of his wallet open to expose the inner bills.

Before he could nudge them out, she wrapped her fingers around his strong forearms and said, again, “No.”

“No?”

“I’m not making good sense here.” She dropped her hands and walked away from him only to pace in front of her serger. When she looked up at him again, his lips were pressed in a flat line and his eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat. “I don’t want you to pay me for the quilt.”

His head jerked back a bit as his mouth fell open. “Pardon?”

“No charge.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand. I mean, I hear you, but I don’t get you. I can’t pretend to know what all goes into a project like this, but I’m pretty sure it took you some time, right? And it cost you some money to make it?”

“Well, yes, but…”

He put up his hands. “I don’t want charity. This is a business arrangement, and I fully intend to pay.”

“It’s not charity,” she shrieked, and then groaned at her outburst. Typical Sid, more emotion than restraint. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and rubbed. “Look, I wanted to do something kind.”

“For the tax write-off?”

Asshole. I was right about him.

She jammed her left fist against her hip and used her right index finger to deliver an angry poke to his shoulder. “No, you idjit, because I felt awful about how your mother lost her first quilt.”

He stared at his shirt where her finger had been, bemused.

“Can’t a person do nice things without getting some kind of kickback? I didn’t even keep the receipts from the fabric, so that’ll be a hell of a thing to try to write off.”

He leaned his forearms onto the table and laced his hands, giving her a hard stare. “What are you up to?”

She threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. She stomped out of the studio, mumbling about how she should have moved to Atlanta when she’d had the chance all those years ago and how she’d never do anything out of the goodness of her heart ever, ever again. She slumped onto the sofa and growled.

Eddie’s boots click-clacked against the old wood floors as he traced her steps, carrying the bagged quilt under his arm. The tightness of his jaw had softened, and his shoulders bore a bit of a slump. He set the bag on the coffee table and extended a hand toward the cushion beside her. “Mind if I sit?”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He sat. Eddie tented his fingers and stared down at them for a long while before he shuddered out a breath and cut his gaze over to her. He looked chastised. Embarrassed.

Good.

“I’m sorry, Sid. I had a pretty hardscrabble upbringing so I’m a bit…”

“Cranky?”

He laughed but shook his head. “I was gonna say sensitive, but okay, your way works, too. I’m touchy about people doing stuff for me and not letting me pay them back. Reminds me too much of all the hand-outs we relied on in the lean years.”

Damn him. He won’t even let me be mad at him.

“Eddie, when it comes to charity, I’d rather just pull out my checkbook and drop a donation in the mail.”

“But you’ve never even met my mother, have you? I mean, I know you’re a nice person, for a ranch princess, anyway, but—”

“Ranch princess?” She stood and put her hands back on her hips as she glowered down at him. “What does that even mean?”

He closed his eyes tight and groaned. “I’m really digging a hole for myself here, aren’t I?”

She waited for him to open his eyes and then nodded.

“I mean, you grew up a certain way,” he said. “Privileged. You didn’t want for anything. Me? I’ve had hunger in my belly since I was eight and my father ran off. Hunger’s still there. It’s just a different kind now. Folks like you don’t make a habit of doing nice things for folks like me unless there’s some benefit.”

Sid shook her head. “Don’t even go there. You don’t know a damned thing about me.”

“Obviously not. We seem to be having a communication crisis here, and I’d sure like to know how to dig my way out of it.”

“How about this? Repeat after me.” She put up her hands as if to conduct a symphony and swished them to the cadence of her words as she prompted him. “Thank you, Sidney, for making my mother a quilt to replace her heirloom.”

He grimaced and then spit it out.

“Now this,” she said. “I will give her your regards when I deliver it, and I will be sure to let you know how she reacts. Would you like me to take a picture?”

She waited with her hands still up, eyes widened in anticipation.

He grinned and repeated the lines.

She dropped her hands. “Why, yes, Eddie. That would be sweet of you. I would love to see a picture of the quilt in her home and also a picture of her face when she opens the box.”

His grin went bigger. “I can do that.”

She bowed. “Thank you.”

“Sidney, you are a strange woman.”

She sighed and shifted her weight to the other foot. “I thought you were supposed to be this incorrigible flirt. How do I rate the asshole treatment?”

His eyes widened and he tipped his hat back a tick. “Do what, now?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not an asshole.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

In a second he was on his feet, body pressed against Sid’s, with an arm wrapped around her narrow waist. Sid sucked in some air as he tipped her chin back, forcing her to meet the depth of his blue gaze. He grazed his lips across hers, not kissing really, but more like marking the way a cat does its new owner. “I say you’re wrong,” he whispered against her lips.

“Maybe I am.”

“I’m gonna prove it to you.”

“Good luck trying.”

He trailed his lips over her cheek and down the line of her chin to kiss the crook of her neck. “I don’t need luck, Sidney.”

With that, he let her go, picked up his quilt, tipped his hat to her, and bounded down the stairs.

Sid stood in front of her coffee table with her hand pressed over her racing heart, and mouth agape.

What just happened
?

Chapter Seventeen

“T
hanks for driving me to the airport, Landon. I would have been fine with leaving my car in the long-term lot, though. You didn’t have to waste your time.”

Landon shrugged and shook his head. “It wasn’t a waste. Dad wanted to drive you, but then Rufus needed his help with something, and Granddad insisted he show Dad how to be a better manager.” He laughed as if the concept were ridiculous.

“Huh.” She decided to count her blessings.

Ronnie knelt down and held her arms open for Liss, who’d tagged along mostly for the scenery.

She stepped into Ronnie’s embrace and nestled her face against her neck. “When are you coming back?”

Ronnie held her a little tighter and ground her teeth as a voice over the intercom announced her flight, now in pre-boarding. She forced down a lump in her throat and nuzzled her cheek against Liss’s hair.

“I’ll see you soon okay, kiddo?”

It wasn’t a lie, as far as she knew it. Liss would have to meet her sister eventually.

Ronnie sniffled and dragged the sleeve of her puffy coat across her eyes.

Think about something else.
Quick.

When she stood, she gave Liss a kiss on the top of her head, straightened the girl’s pigtails, and placed a hand on Landon’s shoulders. “You’ll help Peter stay caught up?”

He furrowed his forehead. “You gave him work over the holiday? That’s cold, Ronnie.”

She cringed as she realized her mistake. “Just some reading. Short novels. You’ve probably read them. Can you quiz him, maybe? If he’s not doing the work, call my cell phone, the North Carolina one.”

She’d left the other one at her place on the Erickson ranch.

Landon nodded. “You’d better run, Ron. You’ve got an inside seat. Would suck to have to crawl over someone.”

“No kidding.” She kissed his cheek, the top of Liss’s head once more, and then waved goodbye for both. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be forever.

“Veronica Arianna Silver, you of all people should know better. I taught you myself when you were twelve how to count your cycle. You know good and well that you—”

Ronnie flicked a dismissive hand at her mother. “Yeah, yeah. Release an egg fourteen days before my period.” She shot some more hot sauce onto her fried fish, flaked a bit off with her fork, and shoved it into her mouth with a satisfying eye roll. Oh, she’d missed fish so much. She hadn’t trusted eating it in Wyoming. She continued. “Give me a break, I was in a birth control gap and hadn’t found a doctor yet.”

Momma leaned back in the chair in her Fayetteville kitchen and crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl. “Who’s the father?”

“Why’s it matter?” Ronnie shoveled cheese grits into her mouth and grunted her pleasure. “Thank you, Lord, for grits.”

“Because you’re picky. I know you didn’t go offer your goodies to some trash, now did you?”

“No. Besides, what difference does it make? You don’t know anyone out there.”

“Well, Phil knows them, so maybe I’ll ask him.”

Ronnie put up a hand. “Okay. I get it.”

“Someone from the church?”

Ronnie shrugged. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean
sort of
?”

“He works seven days per week. Kinda like Daddy.”

“Is he quality?”

Ronnie blew out a breath and let the button of her jeans loose.
Oh, sweet nectar.
“You could say that.”

“Well, let me off the hook here. Tell me about him. How does he feel about the baby?”

Ronnie swirled the tines of her fork around in her creamed corn and fixated on the specks of pepper in it. “He’s great. And he doesn’t know about the baby.”

Momma shrieked wordlessly and got to her feet. “What? How do you get this far in a pregnancy without him knowing if it wasn’t a one-night stand? Was it a one-night stand?”

Ronnie took a sip of her sweet tea and shook her head. “No, Momma. Actually, he suggested we get married.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus.” Momma dropped to her knees and pressed her hands together prayerfully. “Oh, Lord have mercy, Jesus Father.” She closed her eyes and began to sway back and forth there on the floor. “What’s she doing, what’s she
doing
? Please, tell me, Lord.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “While you’re down there, Momma, go ahead and say a prayer that I can pick up some substitute work starting in January because I’m not going back.”

Momma’s eyes sprang open, but she kept her hands poised in prayer. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I said I’m not going back.” Ronnie pushed her seat away from the table, stood to deposit her dishes into the sink, and then sidled over to the cake stand where she served herself a large wedge of German chocolate cake. It probably wouldn’t be as good as Anna’s, but it’d have to do.

“And why not?”

Ronnie got a clean fork out of the drawer and sat with her dessert. “Weren’t you the one naysaying the move in the first place? Well, here I am. Back in North Carolina where I belong. This is where me and my daughter are supposed to be.”

Momma pressed her eyes closed again and swayed some more. “I’m so conflicted, Lord. You brought my baby home only to bring Satan on her heels. Thy will be done.”

Ronnie sucked her teeth. “Are you going to tell Daddy or am I?”

“Oh, Lord, one thing at a time.” The older woman struggled to her feet and fanned herself with her hand. “You love him?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. You want that baby to be born in wedlock, don’t you?”

“What difference does it make? I just turned twenty-nine. If I want to have a baby on my own, it’s up to me. We can put men on the moon, so certainly a woman can raise a child on her own. Hell, we’ve been doing that since humankind stood upright.”

Momma pressed her palm against Ronnie’s forehead and gave her a forceful nudge backward. “Satan, get out of my daughter.”

Ronnie straightened up and sighed.

“You’re being dumb, girl.” Momma looked around the kitchen as if she’d lost something.

“What are you looking for?”

“My daughter, ’cause the woman in that chair you’re sitting in sure ain’t acting like her. Let me get my Bible. We can pray over it.”

Ronnie shoved some cake into her mouth. “All right, Momma.”

“And we need to find you a new doctor. Lord knows what kind of care you were getting out there in the wilderness.”

“My care was perfectly fine. I wasn’t exactly in the Outback. They’ve got medicine and hygiene and indoor plumbing out there.”

Momma grunted and wagged a finger. “Don’t you take that tone with me. If you weren’t pregnant I’d swat you for being so fresh. And where’s Phil? Did he know? I’ve got some words for him, too.”

“Oh, yeah. He knew.”

“And his mouthy self kept it a secret?” She dropped to her knees again. “That’s it, Lord. I hear you. This is the end as we know it. Take me!”

John ran out of fucks to give, and didn’t care if he sounded surly. Ronnie had been gone weeks. He missed her, Peter was out of sorts without her to explain things to him in that patient way she did, and Liss was a damned mess.

“When’s she coming back?” she kept asking, and John could give her no answer. Just like he hadn’t been able to answer in the past where her mother was and why she never visited. Ronnie wasn’t answering her phone. She was supposed to fly back on January third, but at that point it was only speculation. With homeschooling, if your schedule changed at the last minute, no one would be too put out from it. He turned his attention back to the matter of the moment, and swapped ears with his phone.

“That’s my final offer, Charlene. I don’t really give two shits about your hardships at this point. And you do realize, right, that this is the first time you’ve called anyone in this family directly in months?”

“You’re complicating the issue,” she said. “I think what you’re doing is really scummy, is all. And look, what’s all this back and forth between the lawyers? We can work this out amicably between just the two of us, right? Like old times?” She was close to purring.

He turned his gaze heavenward. “Charlene, I don’t need you to sign shit. I figured you’d want to make it easy since you haven’t seen the kids in the flesh in more than eighteen months. Thought you’d want to put this behind us so you can have your clean break. Go to Hollywood and be a free woman? A star?” He sputtered his lips. “Don’t need you. The judge’ll sign off and you’ll get nothing. I tried being nice, because my mother taught me to be nice. Even to
you.
But you don’t deserve it. I’m sick of worrying about this, and I’ve got other shit on my mind besides whether or not you’re gonna send your kids so much as a goddamned birthday card. By the way, you missed Peter’s birthday yesterday. He’s thirteen in case you lost track.”

“Fuck you, John.”

“Been there, done that, right? Thanks, by the way. Beautiful kids we’ve got. Or,
I’ve
got, anyway. Go ahead and keep right on using the Lundstrom name, and when folks Google you and find out where it came from and learn you have kids you abandoned for your superstardom, how’s that gonna make you look?”

Charlene said nothing. She didn’t have to. He already knew he had her.

“Bye, Charlene.”

“John, wait.”

He tamped the edge of the file folder against his desktop. “I’m listening.”

“One-time payout of a hundred thousand?”

“Oh, no, superstar. We’re way past that now. Twelve months rent payable directly to your landlord, ten thousand dollars to help you adjust, and that’s it.”

She sighed. “I’ll let you know.”

“Mm-hmm.” He hung up. “Landon,” he shouted toward the hallway.

His son called back somewhere from the other end of the house, “Yeah?”

“Wanna come in here for a minute?”

“Yeah.”

Moments later, Landon was in front of his desk.

Did he get bigger? When’d that happen?
John rubbed his scruffy chin a moment while he thought.

“Lan, do me a favor and drive over to the Erickson ranch and check Ronnie’s house. See if she left her phone in it.”

Landon crooked up a brow. “Why?”

“Because she’s not answering it. You know something I don’t?”

“No, I just…”

“What’s her other phone number?”

Landon shifted his weight. “What makes you think I have it?”

“Because I know you’re keeping something from me. I’m still bigger than you, at least for a while, so I can still pin you. Don’t make me take your phone and go through your contacts.”

Landon sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He mumbled to himself as he scrolled through some menus and then asked, “Ready?”

John picked up a pen. “Mm-hmm.”

Landon gave him the number.

“Great. Now go find her phone.”

“Yes, sir,” he said as he turned on his heel and ambled out.

John picked up the receiver of his desk phone and dialed Ronnie’s number. One ring.

Hello. This is Veronica Silver. I’m unable to—

“Damn it.”

BOOK: Teaching the Cowboy
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