The Cowboy's Saving Grace, an erotic western novella (Taming the Cowboy) (8 page)

“Hush, now,” Liam said in his same calm tone. “Cowboys don’t cry.”

Grace gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of all these men. She reached for her son.

“You’re not used to having a three-year-old around.”

Liam leveled a look at her, the humor in his eyes fading. “Why is that, Grace?”

She refused to let herself flinch. “You don’t know what he needs, what he’s used to, the kind of attention it takes.”

“We did fine, and he told me what he needed. You’re all worked up over nothing.”

That pissed her off. "You leave with my son without telling me and I'm not supposed to be worried?"

"He's my son, too, and I told you where we were. I was being nice."

His words, bitten off so they hit her like bullets, came through his teeth, his eyes iced over. Huh, she'd succeeded in pissing him off. She hugged Noah a little tighter, and the boy squirmed, twisting toward his daddy, sensing the tension.

"I have an appointment with a lawyer tomorrow," Liam said. "Everything will be on its way to being nice and legal then."

And if the lawyer saw her as being unfit, would he take her son away? Her throat tightened, so she couldn't ask, couldn't plead. Instead, she turned away. Noah started to cry. But she needed to get home, get away from Liam, get time to think.

***

By the time Teresa got home from her job as teacher's assistant, Grace was halfway ready to pack up everything they both owned and move them where Liam couldn't find them.

"What's going on?" Teresa set her purse on top of the refrigerator and walked into the kitchen where Grace was madly scrubbing the stovetop. They'd never get their deposit back with the stove looking like this.

"Liam hired a lawyer. He wants me to go with him tomorrow. He's going to tell them I work in a strip club and they're going to take Noah away." She snapped her gaze to her friend’s, horrified. She’d spoken without thinking about what Teresa was enduring, trying to get her own daughter back from the system.

"They are not. A lawyer can't do that, anyway. Only a judge can."

Grace dragged her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be bringing all this back. I just...Liam took Noah today while I was sleeping and I was so scared and we fought and he said Noah is his kid, and...God, why did I let myself fall for him again?"

Teresa closed the refrigerator door slowly and leaned against it. "If you're in love with him, why do you think he's going to take Noah away?"

"Because my judgment has never been the best, has it? Especially where he’s concerned. Just because I love him doesn't mean he can't hurt me. It just means he can hurt me more."

"If he wants you to go with him to a lawyer, he's trying to work it out, don't you think? I mean, he may be mad that you kept Noah from him for three years, but he doesn't seem vicious about it."

And Teresa knew vicious. When her abusive husband had been arrested and put in jail based on her testimony, her mother-in-law had called Child Protective Services and accused Teresa of all manner of child neglect and abuse, repeatedly, until Teresa's daughter had been taken away and her mother-in-law stepped in to take her. Teresa was working now to get her back, and sure as hell didn't need Grace's problems on top of that.

Grace tossed the cleaning rag she was using into the sink and lowered her head. "I know my job is shaky grounds for a mom. I know that. But I don't know what else to do to make the same amount of money. I mean," She lifted a hand in Teresa's direction. "I can't get a job at a school with a GED. I don't have money to go back to school. Don't have money to hire my own lawyer. I don't know what I'd do without Noah."

Teresa crossed the room to put an arm around her. "You do what you have to do to keep your child."

***

Liam paced outside the lawyer's office in an industrial area off the highway and watched the traffic go by, willing Grace’s  battered little sedan to turn into the parking lot. He didn't know Grace well enough to know if she was habitually late or early, which was a sad commentary on their relationship. He called her cell but there was no answer. He hadn't seen her last night, had been too pissed at her overreaction to go to the bar, though hell, he'd missed her, the first night he hadn't seen her since he'd been in town.

Finally her car turned in. For a moment he didn't recognize her, with her hair twisted back, subtle make-up lining her eyes. When she got out of the car, she was wearing a button-down shirt, a slim-fitting skirt and close-toed heels. Holy shit, hot secretary. All she needed was a pair of sexy glasses. He got instantly hard. Yeah, that was a good impression to make on a lawyer.

She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and straightened to meet him. "Let's do this."

Okay, so he got the feeling she would not respond well to him telling her how much he wanted to shove that skirt up around her hips and bend her over a desk somewhere.

"Whose clothes are these?"

"Claire's. I wanted to look respectable."

"Grace. I'm not looking to take him away from you. I just want parental rights and to get child support squared away."

"The cowboy and the stripper," she muttered when he held the door open for her. "Sounds like a bad porno."

"Or a good one." He tried to ease the tension by flashing a smile at her, but she was wound up pretty tight. "Noah at daycare?"

She nodded.

"Did you work last night?"

She nodded again.

"Sorry I couldn't make the appointment later. I kind of wanted to get in while I could."

She nodded, like a damn bobble-head doll.

The brick building was likely built in the 1970s, and was lined with flimsy paneling and rooms were separated with hollow doors. But the phone book had said they took care of child support, and they'd had an opening before Liam was leaving town, so he'd grabbed it. Now, as he opened the door with the cheap plastic nameplate, he wondered at the wisdom of his choice.

The secretary was an older lady wearing a flowered polyester dress and glasses on a chain. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Liam Delaney, this is Grace Bertrand. We had an appointment with Mr. Richaud."

"Have a seat. He'll be with you shortly." She motioned to the sagging plaid couch against the wall with the buckling wood paneling. Liam motioned for Grace to precede him, then sat beside her, not too close, and looked straight ahead at the crooked Venetian blinds on the foggy window. Grace held her purse in her lap as if it was a shield. He wanted to reassure her again, but she wasn't listening to him. So he sat in silence, wondering how badly this lawyer guy did that he still had shag carpet in his office.

"Mr. Richaud will see you now," the secretary announced after hanging up a phone and motioning to the door.

Liam heaved himself off the couch and turned to offer a hand to Grace, but she was already on her feet, purposely straightening her purse so it was at her side, no longer her shield. He held the door open for her, but she didn't seem to want to go in first, so he did.

This room was worse than the other one. Man, if a person had to work inside, why would they work in a place that looked like this? Dark walls and furnishings, illuminated with a florescent overhead light and a cluttered desk. A man in a bad suit, old enough to be God, crouched behind it, peering at them over thick glasses. Liam wondered if the man even left the office since the 1970s.

"I'm Liam, this is Grace. We have a child together and we want to work out child support and visitation."

The old man raised bushy brows. "You're in agreement on this?"

Liam nodded, but didn't see Grace's reaction.

The old man pawed through some files on his desk.

The lawyer went over the standard agreement with them, which sounded reasonable to Liam, but Grace grew more and more tense.

"Liam isn't used to being around kids," she told Mr. Richaud when he mentioned two weekends a month of visitation. "He's never been a hundred percent responsible for someone else before."

Well, that hurt, accurate though it may be. "I don't mind spending time with the both of you, so you can show me what to expect for when I take him on my own."

"You're only in town another week. You can't learn that much in that amount of time, especially since you need to concentrate on riding."

"Okay, so I'll come back every couple of weeks to see you. Why are you pushing me away, Grace?"

"Because we don't need you. We've been just fine without you."

He rubbed his hand over the direct hit. He’d spent most of his life priding himself on not being needed, but he was ready to step up. Why wouldn’t she let him? "A boy needs a good daddy."

"And you think you can be that?" Her blue eyes riveted on him.

"I'm going to do my damnedest. I'm here," he motioned toward the lawyer, who was looking from one to the other with avid interest, "to make that commitment to Noah, to you. Why can't you let me?"

She drew in a breath through her teeth, and he sensed she wanted to say more, but wouldn't in front of the lawyer. What did she want to say? Was she going to bring up his four year absence again? Because if she did, he could point out she had plenty of time to inform him he was a father, and hadn't. What would the lawyer think of that?

But she kept quiet and filled out the paperwork the lawyer handed her on the clipboard. As Liam filled out his own, he listened to the raggedness of her breathing, as if she was ready to cry.  She handed back the paperwork before he did, and Mr. Richaud looked over it.

"Customer service at Lexington Inc," Mr. Richaud read. "I'm not familiar with it."

Liam twisted to look at her. Customer service? He supposed bartending could be interpreted that way. But Lexington Inc?

She squared her shoulders. "They're a corporation that runs a number of tourist-targeted venues in the city."

Liam snuffled a laugh. Sure. They owned a bunch of strip clubs. She was hiding who she was because, why? She was afraid it would be used against her? He supposed he could see that. He handed over his own paperwork, and the lawyer frowned.

"Son, child support has to be paid every month whether you're making money or not. Do you have another source of income besides the rodeo?"

"I have a couple of sponsors who offered me good contracts after seeing me ride the other night. All that money will go into a savings account that I can use for Noah." He leaned forward. "Look, I know on paper I'm not the best dad.” His own had been an excellent example of what not to do. But Red Stacey, Kennedy’s dad, had taken he and Luke under his wing and showed them what a man should be. He could put that to use now. “But I know what it takes, and I'm going to be the best Noah deserves."

***

When they walked out of the office, Grace's nerves hadn't abated. Her hands were still shaking as she pulled out her car keys. Claire's coaching had worked, and the lawyer had no idea she was a bartender. Still, she felt like she'd given up too much control of her own life, of Noah's. But the way Liam was looking at her now, befuddled, made her anxiety soar.

"Why did you pretend to be someone else in there?" he asked when they walked out to the pitted parking lot.

She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat of her car. "I don't want anyone to have any ammunition to take him away from me."

"I keep telling you that's not what I'm doing. I think you're a great mom, and I know he means the world to you. All I'm asking is that you expand your relationship with him to include me. Would that be so hard?"

"And when you leave? He's three. He doesn't understand you'll be back in a few weeks, in a few months. All he knows is now."

"He'll get used to it." He stepped closer and reached to touch her hair. She backed away, and he dropped his hand to his side. "I still don't think it would be a bad idea for you to come with me."

"It would be."

"Why?"

She shook her head. She didn't want to tell him because she was in love with him and couldn't let him hurt her, not when they had a child between them that would always hold them together. And she knew for certain he would hurt her.

"Come see me ride tonight."

She unlocked her car door. "I have to work."

"I'll come by after, tell you how I did."

She shook her head. "Good luck. But don't come." Because she didn't want to spend her evening waiting for the sight of him, waiting for the lift he gave her. She'd already given him too much today.

***

Liam's score kept him in the top three, though it wasn't as high as the first night. Despite Grace's admonishment not to go to Little Bo Peek's, well, he went anyway.

She was wearing the same outfit she'd worn to the lawyer's, but with a few more buttons undone, showing a hint of her lace bra. Liam's first reaction was to go over and button her up. He didn't want another man to look at what was his.

Whoa. Yeah, he'd invited Grace to come with him, had fully expected to share her bed when she did, but that was the first time his thoughts had veered into the realm of possession. Of forever.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he shouldn't have taken her to a lawyer to talk about child support and visitation. Maybe he should take her to one of those chapels downtown and put a ring on her finger. 

The thought terrified him more than the idea of a shod hoof coming at his head, excited him more than the idea of drawing a rogue horse. After the mood she'd been in today, maybe this wasn't the best time to broach the subject, but he was definitely going to let his thoughts have their head, so to speak. See where they ended up.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes drilling into him as she slid a whiskey in front of another customer. Then something flashed across her face. "Did you get disqualified?"

"I'm still in the top three."

He hoped that was relief he saw on her face, that she wasn't counting the hours until he was gone. He'd caused an upheaval in her life, but damn, she'd done the same to his. The thing was, he was happy about it. His life needed a little shaking up.