The Convenient Cowboy (14 page)

“Shh, Petunia,” she heard Cal’s little-boy whisper as she entered the kitchen. And there it was: a javelina, which right now was earning its “skunk pig” nickname. A small one, thank God, but the stench was overpowering. Nausea raced up her throat, but she fought it down. She had to get Cal and the smelly wild animal out of the house before Mr. Judgmental saw them.

“Out. What are you thinking?” She came closer, holding her hand over her nose and pointing to the back door.

“Limpy, she’s hurt. Pasquale kicked her.” Cal looked up, his blue eyes gleaming with tears.

“I’m sure she’s fine.”

“I think her leg is broken.” The javelina struggled in Cal’s grip and let out a little squeal before he could force her snout under his arm to quiet her.

“Sweetie,” Spence called from the living room. “Everything okay?”

“Just a second,” she called back. To Cal she said, “You know how important this is to your dad...and to me. Just a little more time, then I’ll help you with the javelina. You need to take her back outside. She’s a wild animal. I’m sure her mama’s looking for her.”

“I don’t think so, or why would she have been in the barn? Pasquale’s very sorry.”

“I’m sure he is, but we can’t have the javelina in the house. She stinks.”

“I know, but her leg...” Cal said, and now Olympia could see what he meant. There was definitely something wrong.

Olympia felt bad for the little thing, which had a certain babyish cuteness, despite the odor. She pressed her hand to her own baby, who chose that moment for a powerful kick that rattled her kidneys and made her back ache. “She’ll be fine if you put her on the patio.” Cal shook his head, his blond hair flying.

“She needs the emergency vet.”

Olympia closed her eyes to gather enough patience and strength to calm the baby and to get Cal to cooperate.

“What the heck are you two doing out here?” Spence asked in a low whisper.

Olympia’s eyes popped open. She hadn’t heard him come in. Cal squeaked, and the little animal squealed and scrambled from his arms, hopping along the floor, holding its front leg at an odd angle.

“Dad,” Cal started as she hissed, “Spence, hush.”

The stench increased, and Olympia’s nausea went from DEFCON 4 to 2.

“Take that animal outside before we asphyxiate,” Spence said.

“Excuse me,” the examiner said, joining Spence in the doorway. “What is that?” He pointed to the little animal.

“A javelina,” Cal said. “Her name is Petunia.”

“First a dangerous horse, and now you have allowed your son to bring a wild pig into the house? With his health issues?”

“I just found her in the barn. Pasquale was mad because he couldn’t stay in the kitchen for his snack and stomped on Petunia. Her leg is broken.” Cal scrambled along the floor as he tried to catch the hopping piglike creature, who beelined for the examiner, looked up, grunted, let go another cloud of stink and peed on his shoes. “Petunia didn’t mean to,” Cal said. “Don’t paddle her ass.”

Spence and Olympia gasped together as they looked from Cal to the man who had their future in his hands. His face screwed up in distaste. “I’ve seen
and
heard enough.”

Spence followed the man from the kitchen. Olympia leaned against the wall, hoping her legs would hold her. “Oh, Cal.”

“Petunia didn’t mean to pee on his shoes.”

“Why would you say that about paddling?”

He dropped his head as he cradled the smelly animal, who seemed to be sleeping now. “It’s what Roger said his stepmom says whenever he does something bad.”

Olympia saw his lip trembling and knew the boy felt awful. None of it would make any difference now. They’d have to hope that Spence’s attorney found a good explanation, or they were all toast.

“Let’s call my sister in Arkansas,” she said to the boy. “She works as a vet tech. I bet she’ll know what to do for Petunia.”

* * *

S
PENCE
LISTENED
TO
his attorney sputter and bluster on the phone as he drummed his fingers on his office desk. He didn’t need the other man to let him know that the examiner’s visit had been a disaster. He’d lived it. Worse, the damned pig now resided in a box that Olympia and Lavonda had rigged up on the patio, stinking up the outside.

“I’ve got to go,” he cut off his attorney in middiatribe. “I’m up to my neck in work. Do what you can. I can get character witnesses, whatever. Email me. Bye.”

Talking about that disastrous visit gave Spence indigestion. He opened his bottom drawer, searching for a TUMS, Maalox, anything to put out the fire.

Should he call Missy and try to reason with her? Really, her parents were driving the court case. He discovered a roll of TUMS at the back of the drawer and chewed three of them. Could this be sympathy heartburn? That was what Olympia told him when he complained. She said that he needed to be quiet because she had the real thing; his was just pretend.

They’d been getting along fine, despite the stress, especially at night. Except the past few nights when she’d been too restless to sleep, staying up to watch rodeo reruns. He’d found her asleep on the recliner, her hand protectively cupped over her belly, early this morning. She also said that she had to stay in the living room because it was close to the kitchen and the door that led onto the patio where the little javelina resided. According to Calvin, who’d looked up the animal, the stench was from fear, and Petunia wasn’t a pig but a peccary. Spence had told his son that there was no way she was afraid. She had a cozy box, plus food and clean bedding. The local rehab center wouldn’t take her to be released into the wild until the broken leg healed—which to set had cost seven hundred and fifty dollars he didn’t have. He’d have to find more money for his attorney somewhere, because this would be a fight. Maybe letters of support from his brother and Jessie would help. The men and women from the Hope’s Ride program would give him good references, along with at least two other attorneys in the firm. He hoped that the court didn’t dig too deeply into Olympia’s family. If they did, they were sunk.

Where would they find next semester’s tuition for Rickie and the money for animal feed? He’d thought once he got Calvin through surgery, then everything else would be smooth sailing.

His personal cell buzzed. Thank God. He needed the distraction. “Yes.”

“Hello to you, too,” Olympia said. Her voice sounded unstrained and light. “I’ve been thinking about that visit with Ferret Face.”

“With who?”

“That examiner. Anyway,” she said, dragging out the word, “we need to send letters or testimonies to the judge.”

“Great minds think alike. I had just decided that we should contact Jessie and her crew. Get them to write letters. That’s how they saved Hope’s Ride.”

“Do you think we have time?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay? You sound queasy.”

“Just my stomach.”

“I swear, man...do you have TUMS? Or Pepto?”

“It’s just this visit. It might’ve been okay. But Petunia.”

“Peeing on the guy was not her finest moment.”

“That pig doesn’t have any finest moments.”

“Come on, she’s pretty darned cute.”

“Not you, too? She’s not staying. She’s a wild animal...who stinks.”

“I know. I can smell her, and I’m in the living room. Dang. Cal,” she yelled, “put Petunia in her cage. That’s it. I’ve got to go and make sure he puts her back. We’re not supposed to get her too used to humans or they won’t be able to release her.”

“Go,” Spence said. He couldn’t decide if the new churning he felt was more sympathy heartburn or that twisted, couldn’t-put-a-name-to-it feeling that he got every time he looked at Olympia.

“See you at dinner. Bye. Cal...”

He stared at the phone and stopped himself from thumping his head on his desk. He was going crazy. He knew that she’d be leaving soon. His heartburn crept up his throat, making his eyes water. She had her own dreams and own life. He’d agreed to that. He didn’t get to change the rules now.

Chapter Fourteen

Spence held his breath
as he walked onto the patio, until he saw that Petunia was asleep. Thank God. No stench. Olympia made her way through the door behind him. She might complain that she was huge, but he liked—really liked—her rounded softness. He wanted her badly. He shifted, knowing his jeans couldn’t hide what he felt and also knowing that just six weeks away from the birth, she wasn’t up for anything other than cuddling.

“Petunia’s finally settled,” she said. “I thought I’d strangle Cal when he brought her into the house again. I’ve told him and told him—”

“He’s a kid.”

“He’s a smart kid. I don’t know what he was thinking.”

“That he wanted to play with the pig. That’s what he told me when I saw him digging in the yard. He said that you told him to make sure there weren’t any weeds or no supper for him or Petunia.”

“I didn’t know how else to discipline him.” The only sound on the patio was the little snore from Petunia followed by a soft snuffle. “Maybe Ferret Face is right to not recommend full custody while I’m in the picture.”

“What?”

“I just said I wanted to strangle Cal.”

“So? I think that ten times an hour when I’m home. He’s a kid. I love him to death, but that boy can try the patience of three saints and a nun on Sundays, darlin’.”

She didn’t laugh. “Mama used to get mad like that.”

Now he understood. She continued to insist she had no parenting instincts, which he just didn’t get. He pulled her to him, rocking her a little bit, feeling the roundness of the new baby against his belly. “You’re not like your mother. You have so much patience with Calvin. A lot more than Missy. More than I do some days.”

“I...I don’t want to be barefoot and pregnant, reliant on some man to pay the bills. That’s what Mama always said we’d be.”

“You’re not. You have very nice boots on your feet, and your sisters—not one of them is pregnant or barefoot or—”

She sighed, laid her head on his shoulder. “I can’t wear the darned boots. My feet are too swollen.”

He couldn’t stop himself from looking down at her pudgy feet in the dollar-store flip-flops. She kept her head lowered. “I’m so scared, Spence,” she whispered, and he heard tears in her voice.

“I am, too. What do I know about raising a girl? How can I handle two children? How will I ever beat Calvin at Hedgehog at Saguaro Sal’s?”

He felt her body shake a little with laughter. He gave her one final squeeze, wishing that he knew how to give her more comfort.

* * *

M
AMA
WAS
RIGHT
.
Men were just weird. Pasquale stuck his head out of the stall and shook it at her.

“You’re weird, too,” she told the sweet horse. What else could explain Spence’s increased interest in her now that her pregnancy clothes were getting tight? Two stalls down, Muffin curled his lip at Olympia, his way of “suggesting” that she owed him butter-rum muffins.

The baby kicked her ribs. How could she get back in shape enough to care for the ranch? Plus, Rickie would need more help to pay for next year’s tuition, too. Olympia scuffed along the cement floor to Muffin’s stall. She tried to take her steps carefully since she couldn’t see her feet and was forced to wear sandals. Cowgirls didn’t wear sandals. Another reason that she’d never be doing this pregnancy thing again.

“Muffin, what am I going to do with you?” He snapped his teeth at Olympia, his usual greeting when she came without a treat. “Stop being such a diva. Look at Pasquale. He’s happy with whatever life sends him. But you? You’re in a nice clean barn, you’ve got grain and someone to groom you and you still complain. Who will take you on, Muffin?” The horse pulled at the wood of his stall, tearing off a long splinter. “Stop that.” Olympia reached out and grabbed his halter. Muffin pulled her forward. Olympia felt herself falling.

“Limpy,” Cal screamed, and skinny little boy arms grabbed at her. Olympia caught herself just before she landed on her butt on the floor. “Did you hurt Peanut?”

“No, we’re okay. Thank you. You saved me.” She gasped a little from fear and the bent-over position that pushed the baby against her lungs.

“Dad told me come out and tell you that ‘you shouldn’t be in the barn, that’s why we pay someone.’”

“We don’t pay Lavonda. I was just visiting with Pasquale and Muffin.”

“I know. He doesn’t understand. You know he wouldn’t even let me get a fish. I bet you could talk him into letting me have a dog. Since you won’t let me keep Petunia. I mean, you’re married and everything.”

Olympia heard the note of fear and anxiety in Cal’s voice. Married.
Not for much longer
, said a mocking voice in her head. She told the voice to pipe down and said, “That doesn’t mean that we always agree.”

Cal’s small hand reached out and touched her belly. “Limpy, don’t make us leave. I love Peanut. I want her to be my sister for real. I’ll teach her how to be quiet and clean up.”

Olympia’s chest felt crushed by the weight of her emotions. She brushed at Cal’s flyaway hair. “Why would you think you’re leaving?”

“Don’t be mad,” Cal whispered, pressing his face farther into her side, making Peanut move away. “I read the contract.”

“What?”

“The one about being married.”

Why did he have to be so smart? “Your dad and I... We’re good.”

“But, Limpy, it said—”

“I know what it said, but we changed our minds. Adults are allowed to do that. We’re all going to live here like a family, just the way we’ve been doing.” Why had she said that? She had to take it back right now.

“Are you sure? Rickie told me you always wanted to be a barrel racer, and if you don’t get to do that, you’ll be sad for the rest of your life.”

“Hey,” Spence said from the barn door. “What are you two doing? It’s time for everyone to come in for their snacks.”

“I was just visiting,” Olympia said, staring at her husband. The father of her baby. Her hand went to her belly to still the somersaults there. Darn it. Had her lie to Cal been a lie? Or was it what she really wanted? But what if Rickie was right? She’d never been this wishy-washy before. She wanted to blame Peanut for using all her blood supply. She had to be honest, though. Other than her sisters’ safety, nothing had ever been as important to her as Cal and Spence. “You two go in. I’ll be in in a few minutes. I need to talk with Muffin. He’s being a stinker.”

Spence’s gaze stayed on her for more uncomfortable seconds. “Don’t be long. You need to rest. Remember what the doctor said.”

“That I was pregnant and women have been giving birth for thousands of years.”

“That you’re supposed to take it easy.”

She nodded and turned to Muffin, who had perfected the horsey stink eye. She just needed Spence and Cal to leave the barn, so she could have a good cry—which she hated—then she’d get herself back to “normal.” She had to move on with her plan for when Peanut made her appearance. Any other option just wasn’t an option, was it? But why had she told Cal differently?

* * *

O
LYMPIA
GOT
OUT
of bed to pee—again. She’d started restricting her liquids like a little kid, and she still had to get up once or twice a night, which didn’t make it easy to fix her erratic sleep schedule. She stifled any groans or complaints so she didn’t wake Spence. Except right now his side of the bed was empty. Had she been so restless that Spence had had to go in the spare room?

She checked there. Empty. She checked on Cal to make sure that he hadn’t had some kind of nighttime trouble. The kid slept with the covers over his head and a dinosaur night-light. She sniffed the air to make sure he hadn’t smuggled the javelina into the room. Nope. Smelled just like little boy—burned sugar and damp dirt.

Was she hungry? she asked herself after her pit stop in the bathroom. No way. She’d scarfed down enough at dinner to fill up two ranch hands after a ten-hour day working cattle. A dim light came from the small nook off the kitchen where Spence had set up his laptop. When she’d gone to bed at 8:00 p.m., he’d been on the couch.

“Spence,” she whispered as she put a hand on his shoulder. His head was resting on his small desk. “Spence, come on. Time to go to bed.” He didn’t stir. She leaned down impulsively and whispered into his ear, “Honey, you need to come to bed. I miss you.”

He hummed an answer, and she snaked her hand around his chest. What was wrong with her? Big as a house, an exhausted man and only one thing on her mind. Well, it’d certainly help her get back to sleep. She stood up, taking a moment to get herself under control, then Spence’s fingers grabbed her wrist at the same time he twisted in his seat and got her into his lap. She could feel that he might have been up for a little bit of mattress gymnastics, even though her ability to do gymnastics was severely limited.

He rubbed his stubbly cheek against her neck and she shivered in reaction. “What were you looking for? A little snack? I’ve heard that pregnant ladies are always hungry.” His hand moved to the edge of the nightgown, lifting it. “Olympia, you are so beautiful and wonderful. How did I get so lucky?”

Olympia relaxed into his body. He shifted and she felt the hardness of him against her.
Oh, my...
She snuggled into him, not ready to stop savoring the relaxed warmth and pleasure of the closeness. She reached her arms around his neck to give him a full on-the-mouth kiss. She wanted him, loving her, taking her. “Let’s go to bed,” she said before she could think of the reasons why they shouldn’t.

“I’m fine.”

“But I’m not,” she said, levering herself from his lap and holding out her hand. “You need to give the pregnant lady what she wants, or it could get ugly.”

In the soft glow of the light from the stove feet away, she saw his lips turn up and his sweet dimple deepen. “Your wish is my command.”

“Ha. That’s not true, but I know when I ask you to get horizontal, you’ll listen. So let’s go.”

“What a husband is forced to do.” He laughed. She wasn’t going to think about the fact that he wasn’t
really
her husband because she needed this. Maybe Spence needed it, too.