The Cowboy Next Door (15 page)

“Good news?”

She nodded as she finished putting the new diaper on Rachel. “Court in two weeks. They approved the home study.”

It felt like they had approved her. She felt a little lighter, a little freer.

“Would you like me to go with you?” He took the dirty diaper she handed him and she pointed to the trash. He cringed a little and held the diaper as if she'd handed him a poisonous snake. He had delivered calves and foals, cleaned stalls, and he couldn't handle a diaper. She smiled, because he had offered to go to court with her and she wanted to forget how it had felt when Lance broke her heart.

“You don't have to go.” She wiped her hands with baby wipes and picked up Rachel. How could she tell him that each time he moved a little further into her life, she thought about what it would feel like to be loved by the cowboy next door? She thought about how it would feel to watch him walk away.

She wanted to hear about Jamie, from him, not from Bailey or someone else.

“I think we should eat.” She grabbed the bouncy seat for the baby and handed it to him.

“Good idea.” Letting go of secrets, of wanting something she couldn't have. He hadn't told her about Jamie, and that meant something. It meant he didn't want her to share that part of his life, or know about that broken piece of his heart.

As they walked out the back door she wondered if he thought of Jamie when he visited. Was he thinking about the memory of a girl he had loved, who owned his heart?

She stopped herself, because she didn't know the story. She hadn't let Bailey share his secrets. Anything she came up with was speculation.

“You okay?” He stood under the cherry tree where she'd placed a picnic table she had bought at the local flea market. She had painted it bright yellow.

“I'm fine, just hungry. Do you want to get the food out of the fridge and I'll buckle Rachel in the bouncy seat?”

Did he want to tell her about Jamie? She bit down on her bottom lip and tried not to imagine what she read in his dark eyes. She wouldn't let her heart be broken again.

Jay turned and walked away, straight back and dark blue T-shirt. Two months ago he had been a stranger. When he came back with the picnic basket and lemonade, he still wasn't smiling.

“Lacey, we can be friends.”

“I know that.” She really did. She looked away, sliding the
pacifier back into Rachel's mouth, and then opening the basket that Jay had placed on the table.

He moved behind her, close. Too close.

His hands brushed her arms and he leaned, kissing her neck from behind, his hands still resting on her arms. “Turn around.”

He whispered the words into her ear and she turned, aware of his cologne, aware of mint and the sweet scent of summer clover as bees buzzed. He cupped the back of her neck and his lips met hers, tasting like mint—and forever.

Lacey's mind played tricks on her, reminding her of a girl who had done things to feed her family, to keep her siblings in a home through the winter. And this cowboy, strong and sure of himself, he had never had to make those hard decisions.

She backed away, “No.”

“What?”

She shook her head, feeling ridiculous for even letting herself believe in forever. “I'm a dirty sock.”

He smiled just a little. “A dirty sock?”

“You're a clean sock and I'm a dirty sock. We're not a matched set. We're not…I'm not going to play games and kiss you on a summer day, believing in fairy tales and forever. I know who I am and what I am. I know that I'm not someone's forever. I'm just the girl that's easy to kiss on a summer day. I'm just a friend.”

“Lacey, you have the oddest way of putting things. I'm not playing games. I don't play games.”

“Then tell me about Jamie.”

He backed away, looking wounded, as if she'd slapped him. “Keep the food. I have to go.”

“Jay, wait. I'm sorry.”

He turned and stopped. “For what? For thinking such ridiculous thoughts about yourself, or for listening to gossip?”

“I didn't gossip.”

“Then how do you know about Jamie?” He took a few steps toward her and her breath caught in her lungs, hopeful, thinking he might not walk away.

If he shared, what would that mean?

“Someone tried to tell me, and I wouldn't let them.”

“I don't want to talk about Jamie.”

“Okay.” She bit down on her lip and told herself she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't let her heart be broken over the closed look on his face.

He hadn't shared. What did that mean?

“I'm not ready for this.” He shrugged. “I'll talk to you later.”

Not ready for what? She wanted to throw the question at his retreating back. Not ready for a relationship, or not ready to tell her about Jamie?

L
acey didn't see Jay again until Sunday. He was in his uniform, getting out of his patrol car, and she pulled into the church parking lot. He was leaning against the car parked next to hers when she opened the door of her car.

“Need some help?” He reached for the back door. “I can get Rachel.”

“Oh, okay.” But not really okay. Not when there was an incredible distance between them.

“You should come and see Dandelion today. I have a halter on her and she could use some attention. The more we mess with her now, the easier she'll be to handle as she gets older.”

“I can do that.”

“Lacey, I'm sorry about the other day. I thought I could do the picnic.”

“Don't apologize, Jay. It was a mistake on both our parts. We should stick to friendship. I think we might be good at being friends.”

He nodded and smiled again, but then his gaze shot past her. “I don't recognize that car.”

A cop. She'd somehow forgotten that he was a cop. She
turned, wondering why a car would intrigue him. It was church, and the whole idea was for people that didn't normally come to attend. That was a good thing.

The car in question was moving too fast and the right front tire was a spare, the doughnut kind that looked like it belonged on a bike. And the woman behind the wheel was Lacey's mother.

“This can't be happening,” Lacey muttered. Her heart did a painful, nervous squeeze.

“Who is it?”

“My mother.” Or the woman who claimed the title.
Forgive.
The word rolled through her mind, because it was necessary to let go, and to forgive.

“I'm with you.” His voice was strong, and he didn't move away from her.

He was with her. A friend. And yet he didn't share secrets. She blocked thoughts of Jamie, previously a name whispered in connection with his, but not a real person. Now she felt very real. She was living, in a surreal way, in Lacey's dream house.

Lacey's mom parked her car and got out. Deanna Gould was nearly fifty, but still tried to look like a woman in her twenties. In short skirts and tank tops, her hair dyed a brassy blond, she didn't pull off the younger look. Her makeup was garishly bright and her smile was stiff. A hard life had aged Lacey's mother.

“That's my grandchild,” Deanna yelled as she approached them. “And don't think your cop friend scares me.”

“I'm not here to frighten you.” Jay still held the car seat that carried Rachel. Lacey stood close to him, feeling a little protected because he was near. For the moment she pushed aside the hurt she'd felt when he walked away.

“Well, I'm here to get that baby.” Deanna crossed skinny arms in front of her.

“You can't take her.” Lacey found her voice and her strength. “I have custody of Rachel. She's not going with you.”

Movement out of the corner of her eyes. She turned and saw several people standing in the doorway of the church. Her stomach tightened with dread. Her old life had invaded Gibson.

“She's my granddaughter and you're not the good little girl you want these people to think you are.”

“Maybe not, but she's with me and she's safe.”

“She's my grandchild.” Deanna's face crumpled and she looked ten years older. Lacey felt sorry for her.

“I'm not going to keep you from seeing her. I'm also not going to let you take her.”

“I'll get a lawyer.” Deanna took a few steps closer, looking as if she might really try to grab Rachel and run. Her gaze glued to the baby, and then traveled up, to Jay's face. “You can't keep me from getting her.”

“We're going to court, Mom. I'm going to adopt her.”

“You? With your record?” Deanna laughed, a harsh laugh.

“That was a long time ago.”

“Why don't we all go into church and we can talk about this later?” Jay, calm, in control. Lacey felt like her insides were shaking as badly as her legs.

“Go in there?” Deanna looked past them, eyeing the church and looking less than sure. “Well, if it means seeing my grandchild, I guess I can.”

Wonderful.

Jay touched Lacey's back. She wanted to move closer to his side. She didn't. Instead she walked a little taller, telling herself she could do this. She could walk through the doors of this church with her mother. She could face people who had become like family to her. These people who had prayed for her mom, for her brother and sister.

It had been easy, praying for a mother who lived four hours away. Having her here, walking through the doors of the church, wasn't as easy. This was reality, and it was glaringly bright, like
a spotlight in the dark, shining into the corners of Lacey's past, highlighting who she had been before she came here.

Reality.

She shuddered and Jay reached for her hand. His hand was warm and strong, his fingers clasping hers. The security of his touch was undone by the look her mother shot at her, a look that accused and mocked. Lacey knew that this day changed everything.

“You must be Deanna Gould, Lacey's mother.” Pastor Dan reached for Lacey's mother's hand, greeting her with a smile that was genuine. It was the smile that Lacey couldn't work up to.

“That's me.” Deanna looked past him, no longer smiling, no longer looking confident.

“Welcome to Gibson, and to our church.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Deanna peeked through the doors into the sanctuary. “I've seen enough and I'm not going in there. Lacey, I'll be waiting in my car for you to finish up your little charade here.”

“It isn't a charade, Mom.”

“Oh, I think it is. Why don't you let me keep Rachel while you're in church?”

“No, she's going with me.” Lacey took the baby from Jay. “You can see her later.”

Deanna Gould shrugged, and with a smile, she walked away. She had always walked away when things got tough. Lacey watched from the doorway as her mom got back in her car. And instead of waiting, she started the old sedan and drove away.

 

For some reason, Lacey had convinced herself that her mother would be gone when she got out of church. Deanna wasn't gone. Her car was back in the parking lot, windows down. Deanna was drinking a soda and blowing smoke rings out the window.

Lacey felt the stares of people she considered friends as she crossed to her car parked next to her mother. She tried to block her imagination from telling her what people would say about her. She tried to block thoughts of dinner tables and comments about Lacey Gould.

“Hey.” Bailey hurried toward her, blond hair free, skin glowing with the health of her pregnancy. “Don't run off.”

“I have to go.” Lacey held the seat with Rachel. What had she thought? That this would be easy? That she'd be able to take this baby and raise her with no one objecting?

“Do you want us to come with you?” Bailey glanced in Cody's direction. Her husband stood a little distance away, Meg at his side. He nodded and smiled. Friends who wouldn't let her down.

She didn't want to think about other people seeing her there with her mother, hearing her mother's accusations.

“I can handle it.” Lacey smiled because she felt stronger now. She could do this. “She wants to see Rachel, that's all.”

“You call if you need us.” Bailey gave her a quick hug. “Don't forget that you have friends.”

“How could I forget?”

Lacey buckled Rachel's seat into the back of the car and walked around to her mother's open window. Deanna Gould blew another puff of smoke and dropped her cigarette out the window. Lacey stepped on it.

“Ready to go?”

“Do you have something for lunch?” Deanna lit another cigarette.

“I put a roast on this morning. I take it you're staying?”

“Where's your Christian charity, Lacey?”

“It's here, don't worry.” She pulled her keys out of her pocket. “Follow me.”

“My car won't start.”

Lacey resisted the urge to sigh. “You can ride with me.”

The Lord won't give you more than you can handle.
Pastor Dan had preached that sermon a month ago. It had been a fresh message on verses sometimes tossed around to help cover someone else's troubles. But the meaning was strong, that God would help us through whatever situations we faced. He would give us the strength and grace to make it through trials and tribulations.

God wouldn't leave us to drift alone.

He even had a plan for Deanna Gould being in Gibson. Lacey couldn't think of what the plan might be, not at that moment. Maybe it would be one of those hindsight things that she would figure out later.

Later, when she wasn't thinking how her mother's presence would rock the boat that was her life.

“Stop looking like I'm the worst news you've ever had. I think giving that baby of yours up would qualify for that. And here you are, thinking you can replace that kid with Corry's baby.”

“Stop.” Lacey started her car. She watched Jay's patrol car leave the parking lot, lights on. He must have gotten a call. “Stop trying to beat me down.”

Her mom buckled her seat belt. “I'm not beating you down, just being honest. You are who you are, Lacey. You're not someone that a guy like that cop dates, not for real.”

“Stop.” Lacey pulled out of the parking lot, her foot a little heavy on the gas. “Keep this up and I'll take you back to the church and I won't let you see Rachel.”

“I'll get a lawyer and make sure you don't get to adopt her.”

Lacey couldn't stand to lose more. She couldn't handle the thought of losing her heart, losing the baby and losing the community that she loved. “You can't do that. I have an approved home study and Corry signed over custody.”

Deanna Gould looked out the window, shrugging as if it didn't matter. “I need money to get home.”

It all came back to money. Lacey didn't hold back the sigh, not this time. “I don't have a lot of money.”

“I can't get home with a broken-down car and ten bucks.”

“Fine, I'll give you some money. And there's a mechanic in our church who can probably get the car running. I'll buy you a used tire tomorrow, to replace the spare.”

“Don't forget to let me know that you'll pray for me. Isn't that what you always say when you call? When you used to call, that is.” Was that hopefulness in her mother's tone?

Lacey's heart thawed a little. “Mom, I pray for you all the time.”

And someday, someday she knew God would answer those prayers. Maybe this was a start.

 

Lacey's car was at home. Her mom's car was still parked at the church. Jay pulled his truck down the drive and parked behind her sedan. He didn't get out. He felt as if he was tangled in a spiderweb of emotion and the more he tried to untangle, the stickier it got.

He didn't know how to be in Lacey's life, and all day he'd thought about how to walk away without either of them getting hurt.

And here he was, parked in her drive, waiting for her to come outside. He opened the door and stepped out of the truck as the front door of the house opened. He told himself he had just stopped by to check on her. People were worried. He was worried.

She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, her auburn-streaked hair pulled back with a headband. She smiled and wiped her hands on her pants.

“I was doing dishes.” She shrugged.

“I wanted to check on you. Pastor Dan and a couple of other people called this afternoon. They were worried.”

“I'm fine.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking less than
fine and a little worried. “Her car isn't running and I need to find a tire to replace the spare so she can go home.”

“I'll go take a look at the car.”

“You don't have to do that.” She spoke as if he was a stranger, less than a friend. That didn't add up.

“Lacey, are you sure everything is okay here?”

She smiled then and glanced over his uniform. “I don't need police backup, Jay. I'm used to dealing with her games. She wants money to go home, to leave Rachel and me alone. I'll give her what she wants if it means an end to this.”

“Don't let her manipulate you that way.”

She shrugged slim shoulders and smiled a little. “You make a great hero. But really, she's not going to hurt us. And after everything she said about me today, it's better if I stick to myself for a while until this blows over.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that people will talk. I'm not the church Sunday-school teacher or the nursery worker. I'm not Lacey who works at the Hash-It-Out. I'm Lacey from St. Louis and I have a police record. I'm a fraud who sneaked into this community and pretended to be someone I'm not. And now everyone knows.”