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A Cowboy In Her Arms
Mary Leo
A Cowboy's Second ActAfter nearly being mowed down by an entire parade led by his former girlfriend, Joel Darwood wonders if Briggs, Idaho, is the ideal place to raise his young daughter. Making a home in the tiny ranching town means confronting his past—and the powerful feelings he still has for ornery, unforgiving Callaghan Grant.Six years later, Callie still isn’t over the lover with the smoking blue eyes and sexy swagger. But how can she forget the pain Joel and her former best friend caused? Still, her heart goes out to the widowed rancher, who’s set on being the father his rabble-rousing five-year-old needs. Is it time for Callie to move on—with her dream cowboy back in her arms where he belongs?


A Cowboy’s Second Act
After nearly being mowed down by an entire parade led by his former girlfriend, Joel Darwood wonders if Briggs, Idaho, is the ideal place to raise his young daughter. Making a home in the tiny ranching town means confronting his past—and the powerful feelings he still has for ornery, unforgiving Callaghan Grant.
Six years later, Callie still isn’t over the lover with the smoking blue eyes and sexy swagger. But how can she forget the pain Joel and her former best friend caused? Still, her heart goes out to the widowed rancher, who’s set on being the father his rabble-rousing five-year-old needs. Is it time for Callie to move on—with her dream cowboy back in her arms where he belongs?
Callie stood only a few feet away from Joel.
She was so close he could almost reach out and touch her, but he controlled his desire.
“They have a sense about them, horses do. It was a tough day, Joel, and I’m sure they’re glad to be home.”
“We all are. Thank you for keeping yourself and my girl safe this afternoon. I’ll be forever grateful.”
Callie smiled and he wanted to drop to his knees right there. A mere thank-you didn’t seem like enough. Not only was he grateful for his daughter’s safety, but he now realized just how grateful he was for Callie’s safety. He couldn’t handle it if anything happened to either one of them.
“Not a problem. I was only doing what I’d been trained to do from years of driving a truck on my ranch.”
He took a step closer, hoping she wouldn’t move away. He felt drawn to her, as if he’d lost all power over his emotions.
Dear Reader (#ulink_cae2e04b-c291-5285-bf3d-3dea605d5cd4),
I love writing about the characters that inhabit the small town of Briggs, Idaho. They never cease to amaze me, especially the children.
Each time I sit down to write a new book, I think I know my characters inside and out, but somewhere during the course of writing their story they take on their own identities. Suddenly, the past I carefully designed for each character doesn’t meet their needs, so they up and change it. What’s even more surprising is when they change a secret desire I clearly thought they needed. Most of the time, it turns out to be something completely different than what I’d planned.
That’s the writing process…at least for me.
This story took on a darker tone than most of my books, with a deeper meaning. I wanted to delve into betrayal and loss, but I never expected to also take on abandonment, forgiveness and, eventually, acceptance.
That’s not to say all the humor is gone. It’s not. But this time, it’s wrapped in a bit more drama than I had originally intended.
I hope you enjoy A Cowboy in Her Arms as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Please come visit me on Twitter, @maryleoauthor (https://twitter.com/maryleoauthor), or at Facebook.com/maryleoauthor (http://www.Facebook.com/maryleoauthor), and while you’re there, please sign up for my newsletter.
All my best,
Mary
A Cowboy in Her Arms
Mary Leo


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
USA TODAY bestselling author MARY LEO grew up in South Chicago in the tangle of a big Italian family. She’s worked in Hollywood, Las Vegas and Silicon Valley. Currently she lives in San Diego with her husband, author Terry Watkins, and their sweet kitty, Sophie. Visit her website at maryleo.com (http://www.maryleo.com).
For Kathryn Lye, who has always believed in my work, and championed each of my books. You’re simply the best!
Contents
Cover (#u441bc5c8-9a38-50b1-accc-09b74b159070)
Back Cover Text (#u0e224fd1-4368-55c3-98bc-c8d95a4c77ec)
Introduction (#u2fb42a83-5690-579e-b411-c3fbcce03d22)
Dear Reader (#ulink_ebcd954b-9418-5754-8e9f-b0fa7a9d5003)
Title Page (#u473e692d-69d3-51be-91e8-c76b097ef38f)
About the Author (#ub979bb0b-d4cf-58a7-98c9-5fd3bcd2c638)
Dedication (#u94d90193-63f5-5746-ac26-336159ea6cc7)
Prologue (#ulink_06b74942-7637-586b-9b44-77a01b14c66a)
Chapter One (#ulink_279f6b63-ad9a-5d0c-be86-372d7ad5520c)
Chapter Two (#ulink_8501ab54-ea3e-53de-bcfc-e55def94e6a9)
Chapter Three (#ulink_c2381f3a-ca62-522b-be02-c362d495767f)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_55c28b06-1040-54bf-953a-c088b13b7a31)
Joel Darwood tried to take in what Mrs. Bradshaw was saying about his daughter, Emma, being disruptive to the class, causing the teacher to have to reprimand her after she bonked Jimmy Slater in the head with her baguette during lunch. He knew exactly where this conversation was heading. This was the third preschool his daughter would be expelled from, and she wasn’t even five years old yet. What would happen when she was in regular school?
“Fortunately, no one was hurt during the attack,” Mrs. Bradshaw said, looking as though the baguette could have caused immeasurable damage.
“It was a baguette, still fresh from this morning when I picked it up at the bakery down the street. I hardly think we could consider it a weapon.”
“Maybe so, but she struck him.”
“Jimmy is a full two inches taller than Emma, and if I have the story right, he swiped her Juicy Juice box and was taunting her with it.”
Mrs. Bradshaw grinned, seeming self-righteous as she intertwined her fingers, then rested her hands on the desk in front of her. “That’s hardly a reason to smack him with her lunch. Plus, as you know, this isn’t the first time Emma has disrupted the class. There were two other incidents that were far worse.”
“I wouldn’t call asking for seconds on orange slices or refusing to go outside for recess when it was windy and snowing disrupting the class.”
“It might not have been so bad if she had simply told her teacher she didn’t want to go outside, but she inspired the entire class to rebel. Her behavior is quite unacceptable. Emma needs to learn how to follow rules, and so far, your child demonstrates signs of becoming a rabble-rouser, something we cannot abide here at Mission Academy. Therefore, I’m afraid, Emma is no longer welcome at the academy.”
“So you’re expelling her?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“No need to be afraid. We’ll leave peacefully. I already ate my baguette on the way over.”
“Excuse me?”
Joel stood as a grin tightened his lips. “There is no excuse for you or this restrictive school. Good day, Mrs. Bradshaw. Oh, and by the way, I’d rather my daughter be a rabble-rouser than a complacent doormat. And if that’s what it takes to be part of Mission Academy, you can take your school and...”
But he didn’t finish the statement. Instead, he widened his grin, spun on his heels and marched out of the room, careful not to slam the door behind him.
As he walked to his SUV, all he could think of was how he and his daughter needed a change...a big change. One of those start-over kinds of changes that inspired new beginnings in new surroundings. Heck, he needed it as much as his daughter. Neither of them had any reason to remain in Boise, especially now when Joel’s position at his dad’s accounting firm seemed to be going nowhere fast.
Unlike his dad, Joel had never been all that interested in crunching numbers. He only majored in accounting in college because his dad had expected him to. Joel had found his job incredibly tedious and would try to avoid doing anything too complicated by handing off some of their best clients to one of his contemporaries. Joel was more of an embarrassment rather than the prodigal son who would one day inherit the business.
A change of venue might be exactly what the doctor ordered.
Chapter One (#ulink_e381176e-024c-5d6b-8591-c5b34f016dc0)
The cream-colored stallion whinnied and stomped his heavy hoof, eager to get this show on the road. It took all of Callie Grant’s riding skills to keep Apple Sammy from taking off before it was time to begin the parade, which stretched out for at least three blocks behind them, including all the side streets.
Lawn chairs had been set out along the route as placeholders for the townsfolk the night before. Every child under the age of ten had an undisputed spot at the front of the sidewalk, joined by seniors over the age of eighty, especially the town’s elderly military heroes. Anyone who had served in the military was considered a hero in this small town nestled in the Teton Valley, and was treated as such. No one spoke of these rules. They were simply woven into the tapestry of everyday life here in Briggs, Idaho, home of the mighty russet potato.
Now that the parade participants were lined up and eager to go, the sounds of their excited chatter echoed off of each shop and residence along Main Street. The teens in the marching band, dressed in gold, red and white, the official school colors from Ronald Reagan High School, readied themselves directly behind Callie. They seemed about as anxious as Apple Sammy. Fortunately, their director, Mr. Harwood, head of the music program at the school, knew how to corral his fifty or so students much better than Callie was able to control one determined horse.
Apple Sammy pulled back and whinnied once again as Mr. Harwood gave the direction for the band to begin its first tune, “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which just about blew out Callie’s eardrums. Sadly, she’d forgotten her earplugs.
It was Western Days in Briggs, Idaho, which meant the only Miss Russet, Callaghan—Callie—Grant, who had won the coveted title for her hometown, took the center spot between the Misses, directly in front of the marching band in this year’s parade. Not that Callie wanted the hallowed position, nor did she still particularly enjoy the title. The Miss Russet sparkly tiara had long lost its appeal and riding in the annual parade dressed in her best cowgirl wear no longer generated any excitement.
After ten years of participating in countless parades and community events, she would gladly hand over the reins to any other Miss Russet her fair town could produce. Unfortunately, no other contestant from Briggs had won the coveted title since that fortuitous day.
Callie hadn’t even entered the pageant the year she’d won. Her sneaky sister Coco was responsible for that effort, and once the die was cast, Callie had no choice but to go along with the program. Her family was much too delighted at the prospect of a win for her to back out. Could she help it if her biggest competition that year was Helga Schnook, whose yodel sounded more like nails on a chalkboard than an actual yodel? Callie had tried to downplay her own talent, playing the piano, by picking “The Minute Waltz” by Chopin, thinking it was a relatively short and uncomplicated piece compared to some of the others she’d played in previous recitals and competitions. Unfortunately, that year, Helga and the other contenders had woefully failed to deliver any real talent, so the judges had unanimously chosen Callaghan Grant, from Briggs, Idaho, as Miss Russet, solidifying her now long-standing title...a title she now wished she had never won.
The biggest reason for her disenchantment for participating in the parade this year happened to be her age. At twenty-eight and twenty pounds heavier than when she picked up her title, she felt awkward sandwiched in between paper-thin sixteen-year-old Jackie Winslow, the current Miss Russet who hailed from Firth, Idaho, and equally thin seventeen-year-old, Nellie Bent, Miss Briggs. Then there was the lovely and svelte Miss Idaho on the outer right flank, who hovered somewhere in her very early twenties, and the rough-and-tumble Miss Rodeo Queen, who didn’t look a day over eighteen riding an obedient black stallion on the far left.
Callie had wanted to ride alongside the mayor and the president of the local Rotary Club, who were both much older than her, but the mayor wouldn’t hear of it.
“Your place is with the reigning monarchy of Idaho,” said Mayor Sally Hickman, a blond-haired, fortysomething beauty with a straight-talk, natural-born-leader disposition that had won her the last three terms, when Callie had approached her with the idea.
“But I haven’t held the title in ten years! I shouldn’t even be in the parade anymore. Who made up this rule, anyway? It really needs to change.”
“You know very well the good people of Briggs expect to see you in the parade. You’re the idol of every young girl in Briggs who hopes to grow up and follow in your footsteps one day. You certainly don’t want to disappoint them, now do you?”
“Of course not, but—”
“Good, then, short of a personal catastrophe, I’ll expect to see you in your usual place this year.” And she dismissed Callie for her next appointment, which happened to be with Callie’s older brother, Carson, who was grand marshal of this year’s parade.
Carson had won the National Saddle Bronc Riding Championship in Las Vegas the previous December, and the town more or less worshipped him for it. Unlike Callie, Carson had no trouble accepting the town’s accolades, which were well deserved.
Callie, on the other hand, wanted no part of it...at least not this year. She was starting her new position at Briggs Elementary in a few weeks, taking over as kindergarten teacher for Miss Sargent, who had retired last spring, and she wanted to be taken seriously. Not that winning the Miss Russet title wasn’t a serious accomplishment, it was. But her pageant days were so far over that her tiara was beginning to rust.
Now her only hope was the current Miss Briggs, Nellie Bent, who needed a good solid talent in order to win the coveted title of Miss Russet. Sadly, suspicions on the street had it that Nellie couldn’t hold a tune—at least no one had ever heard her sing—she couldn’t play a serious musical instrument, nor could she dance. What had secured her title as Miss Briggs was her ability to jump rope, not exactly the kind of talent the Miss Russet judges were looking for, but then Callie hadn’t seen the performance. Perhaps jumping rope took on a whole new cachet when Nellie did it.
Callie also knew Nellie had won a small scholarship to Idaho State, in Pocatello, a fine university if there ever was one, and Callie’s alma mater. Surely Nellie wanted to add to that scholarship fund by winning Miss Russet, which came with a college scholarship of its own. Nellie could slip right into Callie’s position in the Western Days parade and everyone would cheer her on, including Callie.
What young woman didn’t want that?
According to Mayor Hickman, every young girl in Briggs did.
Just as Callie was about to ask Nellie about entering the contest, once the marching band took a breather, she spotted someone in the crowd that sent a chill up her spine. When she craned over Nellie, first leaning forward in the saddle, then back to get a better look, that person had vanished into the crowd.
Or was never there in the first place.
“Is everything okay?” Nellie asked as she waved and smiled at the enthusiastic crowd who cheered and whistled as the Misses trotted by, their horses almost in sync with each other, heavy hooves click-clacking on the roadway. “You look a little pasty.”
Callie settled in the saddle, grasping the horn as if her life depended on it. “I...I thought I saw someone I knew, but I must’ve been mistaken. He doesn’t seem to be there now.”
“An old boyfriend?”
Callie grinned at Nellie, amazed that she could be that insightful. “Yes, a very old boyfriend, from college. A boyfriend who I’d rather never see again.”
Callie’s heart still pounded against her chest at the thought of seeing Joel Darwood. She’d practiced what she would say to him if their paths ever crossed, but at the moment, all those well-crafted words seemed elusive. Her brain had turned into instant mush as soon as she thought she’d spotted him standing in the crowd.
“I have an ex-boyfriend like that,” Nellie said. “He lives in Chubbuck now, and every time I see him I want to sock him in the gut. He cheated on me with a girl who can’t even ride a horse or rope a steer.”
Nellie couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, was no more than five foot two inches tall and seemed as delicate as a dandelion. “You can rope a steer?”
“I can do almost anything with a rope. I grew up with four older brothers.”
Her jumping-rope abilities just bumped up a few notches. “Have you ever thought about entering the Miss Russet contest?”
“Actually, I—”
But Callie had stopped listening. She’d spotted that guy in the crowd again...that guy who looked exactly like Joel, only without his scruffy beard and long dark hair. This was the clean-cut version. Look-alike Joel’s head had bobbed out between a group of people she didn’t recognize. This false Joel had pulled a young child off his shoulders, and in doing so he’d looked down so Callie couldn’t get a good look at his face, at his eyes. She’d know if it was really him once she could see his dreamy eyes. The real Joel Darwood had the kind of long dark eyelashes any girl would swoon over, and eyes so blue you’d swear they were part of the sky itself.
She jerked the reins a bit to slow Apple Sammy as she watched look-alike Joel take the child’s hand, a girl from what she could make out, with features that looked familiar...too familiar.
As he made his way through the crowd, he glanced up, but not enough so she could get a clear shot of his face. He slipped a light gray cowboy hat on his head, tipped it forward on his forehead and he and the child made their way up the crowded sidewalk.
The Joel she knew would never wear a cowboy hat, so it couldn’t possibly be him. The Joel she knew was more of the laid-back, chillin’ type, rather than a working cowboy, and in these parts of Idaho, if a male of any age wore a cowboy hat, that meant he was a down-in-the-dirt, hardworking, hay-hauling, calf-roping, horse-breaking cowboy.
His walk...that swagger...no one had a sexy swagger like Joel Darwood and sure as the sun rose over the mountains every morning, this false Joel had that swagger.
“Hey, watch where you’re going,” a teen holding a tuba yelled as Callie sidestepped Apple Sammy.
Her horse had drifted back into the middle of the marching band without her being aware of the intrusion.
“Sorry... I’m sorry,” Callie repeated over and over again as she tried to guide the ornery creature away from the group.
Unfortunately, getting Apple Sammy to mind her wasn’t exactly working, especially now that the band had started playing again. The loud music seemed to spook the poor creature and he didn’t know which way to go to get away from it. His ears kept twitching as if the sound was so annoying he was trying to somehow muffle it by flattening his ears as best he could.
Now more band members yelled at her along with Mr. Harwood, their leader, who tried to grab on to the reins, which made Apple Sammy rear back, away from his touch.
“Get that horse out of here,” Mr. Harwood yelled over the eardrum-piercing music.
Callie directed her horse to what she thought was out of the way of the band, when she nearly ran right into the Idaho potato float. The float veered away from her a little too quickly, causing the roly-poly potato people to literally bounce off the float and careen down the street with their hands and feet poking out of their costumes in a vain attempt to stop themselves from smacking into the crowds on the surrounding sidewalks.
“Save yourselves! Run for the hills,” Callie yelled as the townsfolk scattered out of the way of the swirling potato people heading straight for them.
The band stopped playing.
The 4-H club float behind the potato float screeched to a halt. The kids holding on to the animals atop the float looked panic-stricken. The clowns stopped tossing candy into the crowd. Instead they stared in awe as the entire parade of decorated cars, trucks, tractors, another school band and an assortment of themed floats came to a grinding halt.
As the chaos ensued all around Callie, she watched as cowboy Joel Darwood looked right at her with those smokin’ blue eyes of his, gave a little shake of his head, turned and swaggered off behind the crowd, holding a little girl tightly in his arms.
* * *
JOEL KNEW HE’D have to run into Callaghan Grant at some point now that he was living in Briggs, but never in a million years did he think she might literally run him over with an entire parade. He hadn’t expected her to have such an extreme reaction to his presence that she would cause a cataclysmic disaster in what was supposed to be a fun outing with his daughter and aunt.
Fortunately, no one was hurt, not even the people who were trapped inside the bouncy russet potato costumes.
Unfortunately, he was now officially scared to talk to Miss Russet Potato, aka Callaghan Grant. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t scared exactly, but certainly apprehensive. He remembered that Callaghan had always been somewhat high-strung, deliriously determined and incredibly resourceful, but this kind of disruptive behavior was way over the top. There was no telling what she might do when they physically met...push him under a tractor perhaps?
From the alarmed look on her face, she just might be capable.
“Callie seems a little intense,” Aunt Polly said once the parade had started up again. “Funny, but I don’t remember her being that unruly as a child.”
Joel had guided his daughter and aunt to a spot on the sidewalk completely hidden from Callaghan’s view. Emma stood up front where Joel could keep an eye on her, but out of earshot from their conversation.
“It was always Sarah who got them into trouble, never Callie,” Aunt Polly said. “She seemed cautious and reserved back then. Not that she wasn’t feisty—she was—but mostly it was Sarah who led the way, and Callie would follow. Of course, that was a lot of years ago. I think Sarah stopped coming out for the summers when they were around thirteen. I remember how heartbroken Callie was when Sarah didn’t show up that first summer.”
“Maybe this was a mistake,” Joel said, rethinking his need for a fresh start. Surrounding himself and his daughter with livestock and open spaces rather than city folk and tall buildings had never been his dream, but he knew he’d had to suck up his self-serving ego and become the father that Emma deserved. Problem was he’d moved to the one town in the entire country he and Sarah had avoided for good reason.
If anything he should have gone to a completely new town. Perhaps somewhere in Montana or Utah instead of Idaho, and more importantly, somewhere other than where Callaghan Grant lived.
“What? No. Kids love parades. Besides, no one was hurt. Emma’s enjoying herself. I don’t think she’s traumatized over a few rolling human potatoes.”
Polly had never been filled in on the details of Joel’s connection to Callaghan Grant. His wife had made a conscious decision to not tell her, and Joel had no reason to try to change Sarah’s mind. “I meant maybe this whole thing was a mistake...moving to Briggs with you.”
Aunt Polly turned to face him just as another marching band was passing by, the music loud and persistent. “Have you seen the look on your daughter’s face?”
Emma turned at that moment, holding her ears but grinning despite any discomfort she might have had from the music.
“I know. I know. She seems to love it here,” Joel told her, having to admit the obvious.
“It’s exactly where she belongs right now. You, too. And me! I’m happier than a pig in mud to be home again, and you made that possible.” She chuckled. “Ironic, but I used to hate living in this quirky little no-place town when my Daniel first moved me here from Boise. I thought I’d die of pitiful loneliness and boredom, but I didn’t. I adjusted while Daniel was alive. Once I was on my own again, I headed straight back to the city thinking I’d love it. For a long time I did, loved everything about it. Until a real emptiness set in, the kind of emptiness that weighs on you like an early frost in autumn, making everything cold and brittle. The ranch, this town and the people in it had taken root in my soul. Too bad it took me almost twelve years of living in Boise again to realize that. Now that I’m back, ain’t no way I’m ever leaving again.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have Callaghan Grant to deal with.”
“The Grants were always an ornery bunch, especially when they were kids, but like this town, they grow on you, and after a while, you can’t shake either the Grants or anybody else in this town. They become part of who you are.”
“If you say so.”
Joel wasn’t buying any of it. The mood he was in, he’d just as soon pack up right now and drive away...but watching Emma laughing and waving to the other kids in the parade, he knew staying put was the right thing to do.
Emma and her great-aunt had anticipated this parade for weeks and had even bought matching Western wear for the event, including Western hats. Emma had insisted on a pink one. Aunt Polly had drawn the line at a pink cowgirl hat, but otherwise the outfits were exactly the same: boot-cut jeans, blue checked shirts, wide leather belts with a shiny gold-colored buckle and brown boots. Ever since Emma had tried on her first pair of real cowgirl boots, she refused to wear anything else. Even when Aunt Polly managed to get a dress on her, she still wanted to wear her boots. If he didn’t know better, he would think his daughter had picked up some of Callaghan’s traits. Back in college, she rarely wore anything else on her feet. High heels or sneakers were the exception rather than the norm.
“I’m surprised she recognized you,” Aunt Polly said.
Joel had gone through a metamorphosis of sorts in the last few months. Not only had he shaved off his beard, he’d cut his hair short and swapped his ratty-looking clothes for new jeans, Western shirts and a gray cowboy hat. He was working on changing his negative disposition, as well. Flight used to be his standard reaction to a problem or situation he didn’t particularly want to deal with. Instead of handling the crisis, he’d leave the scene, hoping that by the time he returned—if he returned—the “crisis” would be resolved.
He could no longer afford that luxury.
He’d finally embraced the fact that he was a full-time single parent now, and his daughter depended on him not only for a decent roof over her head and food on the table, but for him to participate in her daily life. Instead of standing on the sidelines while one interchangeable babysitter after another raised her.
Deciding to move to Briggs had only been the beginning of his transformation. Now he had to learn what it meant to stick around, even when times got tough.
“The same can be said for Callaghan. She looked quite different in college. For one thing, her hair color was a lot lighter and she wore it shorter, sort of cropped tight against her neck.”
Joel didn’t want to mention how her body had changed, as well. She was a petite little thing in college, constantly worried about how many calories she ate on any given day. They’d had long discussions over her food intake, which wasn’t much, while he’d tried to get her to eat a cheeseburger or drink a milk shake to get some meat on her bones. At one point he worried she might be suffering from anorexia.
Not anymore.
Callaghan now had the shapely body of a woman, a round and supple woman, instead of that wisp of a girl he’d known in college. Back then she prided herself on still being able to get into the same jeans she’d worn as a young teen.
Things had apparently changed.
Her raven-black hair now draped over her shoulders, cascading down her back in soft curls. He liked this new Callaghan Grant...maybe a little too much. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking such things, especially in light of all the pain he and his wife had caused her with their reckless behavior.
He had no room in his life for a relationship with any woman, and most assuredly not with Callaghan Grant, who undoubtedly still hated him.
“Oh, Daddy, look at all those bunnies and baby goats. I love baby goats, Daddy.” Emma had turned slightly, grabbed Joel’s hand and pulled him closer. The 4-H club float passed by and as it did, Emma clapped her hands and stood on her toes trying to get a better look.
“You do? I didn’t know that,” Joel said.
Then he swung her up onto his shoulders, giving her a clear view. Her little arms encircled his head, one hand patting his cheek. His heart always melted whenever Emma showed him any affection, almost as if it took him by surprise.
“I didn’t know it either until just now. And baby pigs, too. And bunnies, I really love bunnies, Daddy.”
He hadn’t seen her get so excited about anything in months. He didn’t want it to end, at least not yet. They followed the float as it made its way up the street in front of the local firefighters and military personnel, everyone waving and smiling. Fortunately, there was no sign of Callaghan anywhere. He wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation. Not while his daughter seemed so interested in something other than the Elsa doll her mom had given her last summer.
When the float finally stopped, Joel immediately slipped her off his shoulders. They headed in closer to get a better look at the animals as some of the kids from the float along with a group of adults began off-loading them into cages from the back of a blue pickup truck.
“Can I pet one, Daddy? Can I?” Emma asked as Joel held on to her hand. Aunt Polly had stayed back, chatting with an old friend, Traci Sargent, a contemporary who seemed genuinely happy to see her. They had hugged and fussed over each other for at least five full minutes. From what Joel could make out, they’d been friends since Polly first arrived in Briggs...a fact that Joel missed in his life. His family had moved around Boise so much that he was never able to make long-lasting friends.
He hoped that wouldn’t be the case for Emma.
Wade Porter, a rough-and-tumble cowboy in his early thirties was there, as well, fussing over Polly like he always did. Wade had leased Polly’s grazing land for his horses and had kept an eye on things while renters were living in the ranch house and then during the years the house was empty. The dude seemed to attract women of all ages no matter where he went, and so far, Joel had no use for the guy and had taken an immediate disliking to him. Wade was too nice, too accommodating and much too helpful. Joel suspected there was some other motive running through him rather than pure friendliness...but so far, Joel couldn’t make out what that other motive might be.
“If they’ll let you, sure,” Joel told Emma, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Being this close to farm animals was new to Joel and his five-year-old daughter. He’d grown up in a city and had rarely wandered into the country. The closest he’d ever come to a farm animal was at the county fair when he’d walk through some of the tents, and even then, the calves, pigs and rabbit were either in a pen of some kind or locked inside a cage.
Besides, he never had an interest in those kinds of animals. He was more of a dog kind of guy, a husky or a retriever.
Emma, on the other hand, seemed to be all about baby goats and bunnies, especially the long-eared type of bunnies. There were two on the float—one was a deep orange color while the other was a dappled black-and-white. One ear of the dappled one was black along with one eye, and the rest of its body was mostly white with some speckled black. Joel had to admit, these little guys were possibly the cutest creatures he’d ever seen. Emma approached the boy holding the black-and-white bunny.
Other kids who had watched the parade had gathered around a white goat on a leash and a baby pig that tried its best to wiggle out of the arms of one of the young boys who was trying his best to hold on to the small creature.
“Oh, Daddy, she’s so soft,” Emma said as she cautiously ran her hand over the bunny’s fat, round body. The boy, around ten or twelve, held the bunny as it rested in his arms, the bunny looking about as content as a kitten in the sun.
“His name is Wheezy. He’s five months old and we’ve been training him to hop over hurdles,” the boy told Emma. “He loves to jump, and he loves to be petted and played with.”
“Do you play with him a lot?”
The boy nodded. “Whenever I can. He has four brothers and three sisters so sometimes it’s hard to get to all of them.”
“I don’t have any bunnies. My daddy likes dogs, but I like bunnies.”
“We have a dog, too, and chickens, and a lot of horses.”
“We have horses, but I’d rather have a bunny.” Emma couldn’t seem to stop loving Wheezy, and as time passed she became more confident petting him. Until this moment, Joel hadn’t considered that Emma might want a pet of her own. Yet another example of how woefully remiss he’d been in raising his daughter. The guilt would sometimes overwhelm him, but he’d learned how to pull himself back from the self-pity pit by making sure he was now 100 percent engaged in his current life...which was something he was still working on.
Emma glanced back at Joel, beaming, looking for his approval, which he gave with a hearty smile and nod.
Joel’s heart swelled as he watched Emma ease in closer to the bunny, giving it long, gentle strokes. The boy holding the bunny kept chatting with Emma, asking her name and talking about the furry creature. Normally, his Emma barely spoke to other children, but for some reason, as she stroked the soft animal, she chatted up a storm. The boy, Buddy Granger, told Emma all about Wheezy, the medium-sized Holland lop, and the rest of the animals on his family’s ranch, which was also some sort of riding school. Emma stood riveted to every word.
Ever since they had moved to the Double S Ranch, his daughter’s entire demeanor had changed. Little by little, she was coming out of her shell, and the animals were helping. Aunt Polly had already brought in a couple horses, and two stray tabby cats had taken up residency inside the barn. Plus, he’d been thinking about adding a puppy to the mix soon, and now that he knew his daughter liked bunnies, he might consider building a bunny hutch to the vast array of projects that required his attention.
He knew living on a ranch was going to be a challenge, but he never dreamed it would be an endless string of physical work. Callaghan hadn’t talked much about ranching or her Miss Russet title when they were dating...too tangled up with school activities, he supposed. Back then their days seemed to be consumed with class, homework, school activities and sex...lots of sex, until everything changed on the turn of a dime.
He cautiously looked around trying to spot Callaghan in the crowd, and so far the coast seemed clear. Although in a small town like this, he felt as though everyone already knew all about the sordid details of their breakup in college...and he was most certainly the bad guy in their version.
Which, to some extent, he was, but he refused to think about any of that now. At the moment, his total focus was centered on his daughter and her happiness. Every choice he made was entirely for her benefit, and if that included having to openly take the fall for what happened between him and Callaghan back in college so the citizens of Briggs would accept him and his daughter, then so be it.
He was out of options.
This was his last stop. He had to make it work no matter what he had to do to appease his ex. Briggs, Idaho, was her hometown. Her family and friends lived here, and despite everything that had happened, he would find a way to make peace with the girl he still cared about.
Chapter Two (#ulink_cff832d2-85dc-52a0-b362-ccb7c54d2537)
“That’s him,” Callie told her older sister Coco. The two women tried to hide behind a cluster of aspen trees. The parade had long since ended, the floats dismantled and stored in the old potato processing plant that had been converted several years ago to an open warehouse now used mostly for storing floats and other parade items.
Callie had made her apologies to her neighbors who’d bounced off the potato float, to the kids in the marching band she’d disrupted, to Mr. Harwood—their director—and to everyone and anyone who she thought might need an apology. She was sure there would be a write-up in the local paper about her fiasco, but that was nothing new to her. She’d been in the local paper several times in her life for mainly the same type of disorderly thing, except, of course, when she was crowned Miss Russet. Then it was all praise all the time.
Fickle townsfolk...how soon they forget.
The regional rodeo had already begun to gear up at the fairgrounds where Callie would once again be joined by the other Idaho Misses to open the festivities the following night. But tonight it was all about the carnival, great food provided by local and some out-of-town restaurants, and the fireworks, which were sometimes better than the Fourth of July celebration.
Piping hot baked potatoes were free tonight, courtesy of the surrounding farmers and ranchers, and everyone in town seemed to be enjoying the perk. The spuds were individually wrapped in parchment paper and cracked open for convenience. Condiments such as butter and other enhancers were provided. However, most residents preferred their spud plain and treated it like a fine wine, savoring the natural flavors. Callie was more into sour cream and chives on her baker, but she usually relegated that controversial fact to her meals at home.
She had been anxious to share the news of Joel’s appearance with her sister, who was the voice of reason, for the most part.
“Who exactly am I spying on again? And by the way, he’s one fine cowboy.”
“Joel Darwood. The Joel Darwood who broke my heart, then poured gasoline on it and set it on fire...and he’s about as far away from being a cowboy as I’m a rock star.”
Coco peeked around the trees to grab a better look. The sisters were barely a year apart, fifty weeks, to be exact, and had always been as tight as thieves. They’d shared everything except their clothes. At six feet, Coco was the tallest of Callie’s three sisters, had a bigger bone structure and sprang every button on any of Callie’s shirts she’d ever attempted to wear. She wore her deep chestnut hair extra short so she didn’t have to mess with it, mostly wore jeans, boots and a T-shirt, and could ride a horse just about as well as their brother, Carson. She was the type of woman who liked to focus on one thing at a time, and for the past six years that focus had been on becoming the best veterinarian this town had ever seen.
“It can’t be. After what he did to you, he wouldn’t have the nerve to show his face in this town.”
“Maybe we could sic Punky on him.”
Coco shared her tiny house in town with Punky, a Yorkie who thought he was a German shepherd. He’d been nursed and raised with a group of shepherds after his own mom had died soon after he was born. Punky conducted himself accordingly, being very protective of Coco, who had found him the loving new mama German shepherd who had treated him as one of her own. Nothing scared Punky, not even the biggest of dogs or a horse, for that matter.
Even now, as Punky waited patiently at the end of a bright red leash, Callie could tell he was on full alert. His ears were perked, and an occasional guttural growl emanated from his tiny body, causing him to shiver in its wake.
“Punky deserves better.”
“You’re right. Joel’s not worthy of Punky’s attention, good or bad.”
“Are you sure that’s really him?” Coco asked. “He looks a lot different than those pictures you sent us from college.”
“Absolutely. I know Joel Darwood when I see him. Besides, it’s been almost six years. I’m way over him.”
Coco gazed back at Callie, giving her one of those yeah, sure you are looks. “Then why are we hiding behind this tree? And tell me more about that little mishap in the parade today...which had absolutely nothing to do with your seeing him again.”
“I told you, I was simply trying to get a better look to make sure it was him. And besides, you know how stubborn Apple Sammy can be.”
“He’s not the only one who’s stubborn.”
Callie ignored the jab. “Do you want to help me with what to say to him or not?” Callie stuck a fist to her hip, anxious to get this whole thing settled. She needed to know why the dirty rotten scoundrel was in Briggs and how long he intended to stay. Coco was not cooperating the way Callie had hoped she would.
“Sure, but only if you’re sure you aren’t harboring some feelings for the guy.”
“Stop it.”
“What? I’m just sayin’...”
“And what’s that exactly?”
“You said you’re over him, and I’m going to take you at your word. But what if he and Sarah broke up and he’s come to Briggs to apologize for all the pain he caused you? If I remember correctly, you said he was the only guy you ever loved.”
“I was young and naive.”
Coco gave Callie a quick eye roll. “Not so young, and you haven’t been ‘naive’ since the tenth grade. Remember Blake Granger?”
Blake Granger was the oldest of the Granger brothers, who had a reputation of being real charmers. Back in high school, kissing one of the Granger boys brought on as much envy from the other girls as kissing a cute celebrity.
“I told you a million times, nothing ever happened between Blake and me other than a few hot kisses. And stop talking crazy about Joel. Like I could fall for his lying, cheating ways ever again. You above all people know how long it took me to get over him, and I am so over him.”
“Then where’s his wife? Where’s Sarah?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Once his wife’s aunt Polly left town, no one really kept up on her family. Only that the Double S Ranch has fallen into disrepair, but other than that, there hasn’t been any gossip. If his wife isn’t here, and if she’s anything like she was in college, she’s probably hiding out with her current lover. She never could stay loyal to anyone for very long...including me, her best friend.”
Callie refused to ever say his wife’s name out loud. That hurt still ran deep.
“Do you think he recognized you today?”
Callie had caught the acknowledgment on Joel’s face before he turned and walked away that afternoon.
“Unfortunately, yes. The thing is, I don’t know what I want to say to him. I mean, I used to know what I wanted to say, but now that he’s here, it’s like my thoughts are all jumbled up. That’s why I pulled you into this. You’re good at these kinds of things. What would you say?”
Coco glanced back, then casually leaned against a tree and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, my irate sister, you should’ve asked me sooner, ’cause that lyin’, cheatin’, counterfeit cowboy is heading our way.”
* * *
JOEL HAD SPOTTED Callaghan standing behind the aspen trees almost as soon as she and her friend had arrived. He’d spent the entire afternoon thinking about what he would say to her if and when they bumped into each other today, but so far he hadn’t come up with a single thing that sounded the least bit intelligent.
The thing was, he was tired of waiting for Callaghan to come to him. She’d been standing behind the trees for the better part of a half hour, with her friend doing all the spying, and frankly he’d reached his limit. Never mind the tiny slip of a dog that seemed to growl and bark at him whenever he looked their way.
“Where are you going, Daddy?” Emma asked as Joel eased himself up off the blanket they shared with Aunt Polly on the expanse of lawn just on the other side of the small outdoor rodeo arena. The town’s fairgrounds were a mix of landscapes conducive to all sorts of events, from the arena with the surrounding bleachers to the blacktop area where all the food stands had been set up, to the grassy part suitable for picnics or waiting around for a fireworks display.
“You stay here with Auntie Polly. I’ve got someone I need to talk to.”
“Okay, but don’t take too long. You don’t want to miss the fireworks!” Emma warned as she finished off what had to be the biggest puff of cotton candy he’d ever seen. He was sure she wouldn’t sleep for the next week from so much sugar, but he just couldn’t deny her when she’d asked so sweetly if she could have one.
As he walked closer to Callaghan, his heart started racing and he felt a bit twitchy, like he’d swallowed an entire beehive and they now buzzed through his veins. He’d never really given her much thought over the years, and his wife, Sarah, had barely spoken of her except in passing. Right after everything initially went down, Callaghan had seeped into his consciousness several times, but Joel had been a runner in those days, and running away from his thoughts had been something he’d gotten very good at.
Apparently, he’d recently lost that ability along with his ability to essentially ignore his own daughter. Once he let Emma into his heart, everything changed, almost as if he’d switched on his emotions. Now, as Callaghan and her friend—or maybe it was one of her sisters, he couldn’t be sure; he’d only seen pictures of her family—stepped out from behind the trees, English seemed to be a foreign language. His words were all messed up and the only phrase that came to mind was, get the heck out of here!
As soon as he came within a couple feet of Callaghan, their silly little dog bared its teeth and growled, as if it was about to do some major damage if Joel didn’t curb his ways.
“That dog seems a bit angry,” Joel said to the tall woman holding the leash. Facially, she resembled Callaghan, even though size-wise, they were nothing alike.
“He can sense danger,” the woman warned, gripping the leash as if she were trying to control a Great Dane or a retriever.
“I’m far from dangerous,” Joel told her, trying to make light of the crazy situation.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Callaghan countered. “I’ve been at the receiving end of some of your harsher treatment.”
He chose to ignore her barb. “It’s been a while, Callaghan. Time has been good to you.” Seeing her up close only made the knot in his stomach tighten. She’d grown a lot more beautiful with time, if that was even possible. She took his breath away.
“I’d return the compliment if I thought for one minute you meant it.”
The delusional pooch let out a mouthful of yappy barks. Joel ignored it.
“I’ll just leave you two alone,” the woman said, her voice deep and husky.
“Please don’t leave on my account,” Joel told her. “I won’t be staying long.”
“Why not?” Callaghan asked. “And by the way, I go by Callie now, and this is my sister Coco.”
“Nice to meet you,” Joel told her, putting out his hand as a gesture of friendship, only she didn’t take it.
“I should go,” she said, as Joel quickly turned toward Callaghan, feeling about as awkward as a chicken that had walked into a fox den.
The women hugged, then Coco began to walk away, but not before the little dog bared its teeth once more.
Joel chuckled at its spunk. “I don’t think that dog likes me.”
“He’s just emulating my feelings,” Callaghan said.
“Ouch!” Joel jerked his head as if he’d been slapped.
Callaghan or Callie wasn’t amused.
“What are you doing here, Joel?”
“I’m living in Briggs now, with Sarah’s aunt Polly. We’re fixing up the Double S Ranch. It needs a load of work, but with a little elbow grease, it’s coming along.” He knew the work on the ranch was much more than he’d anticipated or knew how to fix, but he didn’t like to admit it out loud.
He shifted his hat on his head.
Joel wasn’t used to wearing a cowboy hat. The thing weighed heavy on his head and caused him to want to adjust it all the time. Plus, his feet hurt from the new boots he’d decided to wear and he didn’t particularly like the pinch of the belt he wore, let alone the buckle that poked him in the stomach every time he bent over.
Truth be told, he was about as uncomfortable in his cowboy getup as a cat in a bucket of water.
“Takes a lot of grit for you guys to show up in Briggs and want to settle down here after all that’s happened.”
She wrapped her arms across her chest and began pacing just as the first spray of sparkling lights exploded in the sky behind her. He could tell she was saying something, but he couldn’t quite make it out over the noise coming from the rapid fire of the fireworks display.
Just as well, the look on her face as she spoke told him she wasn’t praising his decision to move to Briggs. No warm and fuzzy for him. No welcome mat or welcome anything. Instead, she seemed to be reciting the riot act, which he deserved, but was glad he couldn’t hear.
There was a break in the action so Joel tried to jump in and tell her she was wasting her breath. “Callie, I’m afraid...”
But she cut him off before he could get a full sentence out.
“You should be afraid...” she said, and went on with her muffled tirade.
She finished at almost the exact same time the last of the fireworks burst in the sky, causing a visceral reaction in him as he remembered another time when they’d watched fireworks together, naked, from the tiny deck outside his apartment off campus. They’d just finished making love when the Fourth of July fireworks had started at the local stadium. She had been hesitant to step out on the deck without even a blanket to cover her body, but Joel had assured her no one was around...until they spotted Old Man Greely peering at her from across the courtyard.
Joel immediately stood in front of her, but by then, Callaghan told him it was too late, so instead she twirled around a few times and danced back inside, undoubtedly giving Mr. Greely the time of his life.
“I’m sure I deserve everything you just said and possibly more,” Joel told her, glad he hadn’t been able to hear any of it.
“That’s your answer?” Her shoulders went down as she shuffled her feet.
“What was the question?”
“What are you doing here, Joel?”
“Like I said, I’m living here now, settling in with Polly Sloan and my little girl, Emma.”
“And where’s that wife of yours? Oh, wait, don’t tell me. She’s dumped you for another man. Maybe there is karma in this world after all.”
Her comment sliced through his heart, pulling the last breath out of his soul. He assumed... He never suspected for a moment... In a small town like this where news had to travel like greased lightning, it didn’t seem possible that she didn’t know the truth about what happened to Sarah.
His stomach clenched. “I assumed you knew, Callie. I never for a moment thought you...”
“What? Heard that your wife ran out on you? No. I didn’t know, but your showing up here without her can only mean one thing. She left you with a child to raise while she went off with another guy. Is that about right?”
He knew Callaghan well enough to see that hidden under all her bravado, she was still hurting. He didn’t know quite how to tell her what had happened to Sarah, how to break it to her gently. He decided instead to simply come out and say it.
“Callie, Sarah died six months ago in a small plane accident. I thought you knew. I’m so sorry.”
* * *
IT FELT AS if someone had punched Callie in the stomach and forced out all the air in her lungs. She took in a deep, ragged breath. Her eyes instantly reflected her emotion. She tried to control the tears, but it seemed impossible to do.
“I had no idea, Joel. I’m so sorry. What happened?”
As Joel sucked in a breath to answer her question, a blond-haired little girl, with those same sky blue eyes that Joel had, with traces of pink cotton candy on her cheeks, appeared behind him, running full out.
“Daddy! Daddy! Did you see the fireworks? Weren’t they beautiful, Daddy? Which ones did you like best? I liked the great big red ones that burst into spinning stars. Those were my favorite. You should’ve come back, Daddy. We waited for you, but you didn’t come back like you promised.”
Joel ignored all her questions and instead swooped the child up in his arms and settled her on his hip.
“I’m sorry, kitten, but I’d like you to meet someone I knew a long time ago.”
The child wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck and nestled her head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to meet anybody, Daddy. I just want to go home with you and Auntie Polly.”
Callie suddenly felt awkward and out of place. Obviously, she was the intruder in this child’s world.
“That’s not very nice, Emma,” Joel whispered to his daughter. “I taught you better than that. Where are your manners?”
“I’m tired, Daddy. I want to go home.” She balled up her hands and rubbed her tearful eyes. Callie couldn’t tell if her fatigue was genuine or if she was trying to manipulate her dad. Either way, Callie wanted the awkward meeting to end.
“It’s okay,” Callie told him, not wanting to intrude on Joel and his child.
“I apologize,” Joel told Callie. “She’s usually not like this.”
“I’m sure it’s been a long day for her...for me, too. I’ll be heading home soon, as well.”
“See, Daddy, even the lady wants to go home.”
“Okay, baby,” Joel said as he rubbed Emma’s back. “But first could you at least say hello to the nice lady? Her name is Callie and she knew your mommy when she was a little girl.”
Emma slowly turned toward Callie as she twirled a thick strand of her golden hair between her fingers.
Callie blinked a couple times, trying to take in what she was seeing. Little Emma looked exactly like her mom, down to the dimpled chin and the way her hair curled in little coils around her face. She even played with her hair exactly like her mom had. The vision brought back the good memories of Sarah. The memories Callie had locked away and never wanted to think about again.
“You knew my mommy?” Emma asked in between staggered hiccups.
Callie could hardly speak as she stared at Sarah’s child. The resemblance was striking. “Yes, we used to play together at Aunt Polly’s house.”
“Aunt Polly said she was going to teach me how to ride a horse. Do you know how to ride a horse?”
But Callie suddenly felt tongue-tied, especially after her exhibition that afternoon.
Joel answered for her. “She sure does, kitten. She rode a horse in the parade today.”
Emma pushed herself up and away from her dad, then stared at Callie as if she was studying her for a moment. Joel pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiped her nose and dabbed at her tears.
Soon a wide grin spread across Emma’s cherub face. “Were you the lady who stopped the parade? She was funny.” Emma giggled.
“I...um...”
“Callaghan Grant! Well, I’ll be. It’s so very nice to see you again,” Polly Sloan said, her voice cracking with emotion as she walked up to Callie and gave her a tight hug. “Oh, my darling girl, it’s been way too long.”
Once Callie was surrounded in Polly’s love, she could barely control her brewing emotions over the news of Sarah’s death. It was one thing to hold a grudge against her former best friend for all those years, but that grudge didn’t overshadow how she felt now that she’d learned about Sarah’s passing. Callie never wished her any harm; she simply didn’t want to ever talk to her again...big difference.
“Joel just told me about Sarah,” Callie whispered, trying to keep her voice low enough so Emma wouldn’t hear her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. It was a shock to us all.”
When they separated, Callie quickly dried her tears using one of the endless supply of tissues that Joel seemed to have in his shirt pocket.
“You’ll come over for dinner one of these nights?” Polly offered. “We’d love to have you as our guest. The place still needs a lot of fixing up, but it’s coming along.”
Callie didn’t know what to say. She had always loved Polly like the aunt she never had. Polly was Sarah’s mom’s older sister, but she might as well have been Callie’s mom’s sister, as well. She had treated Callie and Sarah as equals.
When she and Sarah were young, they’d spend most of their summers on Polly’s ranch. The Snake River ran right through Polly’s land, and the beauty of it was never lost on Callie and Sarah. Most of those long summer days were spent playing in or around the river, sometimes fishing with Polly’s husband, Daniel. Callie had acquired a love of fishing from Daniel, and even now, when she felt stressed or anxious, a few hours of catch and release acted like a balm on her raw nerves.
But all those good memories happened a long time ago, Callie reminded herself. A lot had changed since then, changes that hurt even more now that she’d met Emma.
“Sure, but can I take a rain check on that invitation? I have some work I have to do in the next few days. My new job requires a lot of prep time.”
“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart. No rush. Besides, like I said, the place needs more time. You might be disappointed if you stopped by before we brought the Double S back to its former glory.”
Emma leaned in on her dad’s shoulder, still playing with her hair. Joel held her tight against his chest, then he ran a hand over her hair and lovingly kissed his daughter on the top of her head.
Callie couldn’t help feeling a mixture of jealousy and profound sorrow as she watched Joel and Emma together. There was a time in her life when she had wanted nothing more than to have Joel’s baby, to be his wife, to raise their children together.
But her best friend had stolen her dream and made it come true for herself instead.
Callie still wanted a houseful of children, more than ever, but she also knew falling in love with the right man, a man who would love her back with the same commitment, was the single most important aspect of a solid relationship and a loving environment to raise those children.
Now, standing this close to Sarah’s child and seeing how much that child looked exactly like her mom only made Callie’s hurt deepen. Emma should have been her child, not Sarah’s.
“Okay, then let’s wait. You’re living here now, so we have all the time in the world,” Callie told her.
“Can we go home now, Daddy?” Callie detected a whine in Emma’s voice.
“Sure, baby,” Joel cooed.
The child not only looked like her mom, but she seemed to be just as strong-willed.
“We’ll see you soon, Callie,” Joel told her, then turned and walked away. Polly gave her another quick hug and joined them.
As Callie watched them disappear into the dark night, she knew she had no intention of ever stepping one foot on the Double S Ranch, and she certainly had no intention of ever breaking bread with Joel Darwood, the man she had once loved with all her heart.
* * *
JOEL SLIPPED A sleeping Emma into her car seat, made sure Polly was comfortable in the passenger seat and drove his red SUV out of the fairgrounds heading toward home. A full moon led the way on the dark, empty back roads.
“It was nice seeing Callaghan again. Actually it was nice seeing everyone again. I had a great day, and from the looks of it, so did Emma. How about you, Joel?”
Joel knew enough about Polly to recognize when she was fishing for information. They hadn’t talked much about his life with Sarah, although he was sure she understood more about it than he’d like her to. He didn’t think she knew that he and Callaghan—or Callie... He wasn’t sure if he could ever get used to calling her that—had ever dated. Sarah had never been a very forthcoming kind of person. Heck, for the five years they were married he doubted he knew much about her past. It was a revelation to him that she and Callie had spent so much time together during the summer, and even Callie hadn’t told him the details of those visits.
For one thing, he’d thought Sarah only visited for a couple weeks during the summers, but from what Callie had just said, it sounded as if Sarah had spent entire summers with her aunt.
He knew Sarah had grown up as the proverbial latchkey kid. Her mom was always too busy working or out on a date to give her child much attention. She’d had more boyfriends than Sarah could name. None of them were Sarah’s dad.
Unfortunately for Sarah, her dad had never been in the picture.
“It wasn’t what I’d expected, that’s for sure.”
“And what was that?”
Joel didn’t know how candid he should be with Polly. “For one thing, I didn’t expect to see Callaghan in the parade. By the way, she likes to be called Callie now.”
“Callie it is. I sensed there was something more between you and Callie than just a friendship, if there ever was a friendship. She seemed a little guarded, but that could just be because she was reacting to the news about Sarah. Funny, but I thought everyone would have known by now. That was well over six months ago.”
“Apparently the town must be isolated from that kind of news. Plus, don’t forget you and Sarah haven’t been a part of this town for several years.”
“Still, Callie appeared distant, as if she was holding something back...which didn’t seem to be the case when she was talking to you. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she didn’t look too happy.”
Joel didn’t know if now was the time to tell her about their sordid past, but he was trying to be a more honest man, so this seemed like as good a time as any.
“Polly, there’s something you should know about Callie and me.”
“What’s that?” She turned to look at him, and when he glanced her way he couldn’t tell if what he was about to say would hurt her or put a strain on their relationship. He didn’t want to do either one, but she deserved the truth, at least as much as she needed to know.
He relaxed his tense shoulders. “Callie and I were dating before Sarah and I got together.”
Polly didn’t respond for what seemed like forever. His stomach lurched as he waited for her response. He tried to concentrate on his driving along the unfamiliar route, hoping Polly would say something to break the horrible silence.
“Did you love Callie?”
He’d had a passion for Callie, a passion that almost consumed him. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her, and felt his absolute best when he was in her arms. She made him feel as though he could do anything, conquer anything and be anything he put his mind to.
But had he loved her?
He couldn’t have, or when Callie told him what she saw for their future, he wouldn’t have run to Sarah. All he’d wanted was some sound advice from Callie’s best friend. He never expected it to go any further than that, and when it did, he just let it happen.
Joel hadn’t been capable of loving anyone back then, and even now, love still seemed elusive. Oh, sure, he loved Emma, probably more in the last six months than ever before in her life, but true romantic love, the kind that Polly still felt for her late husband, Daniel... He didn’t know if he could ever feel that sort of deep, powerful love for anyone.
“I couldn’t love anybody back then, not even myself.”
“But you dated her.”
“Yes, for almost two years.”
“Did you love Sarah?”
The road before him seemed endless, as if it could go on into infinity. As if he knew he couldn’t get out of the car until he told Polly the truth.
“She was the mother of my child.”
He kept his eyes on the road, a tight grip on the wheel, looking for his turnoff...hoping for his turnoff.
“You didn’t answer my question. And believe me, Joel, I won’t be offended by your answer as long as you tell me the truth. I don’t abide liars of any kind...at least not on the big stuff. Did you love Sarah?”
He took in a sharp snap of air. “I did not.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
“Did she love you?”
“If she did, she never showed it or told me.”
“Then why did you marry her?”
“She was pregnant with my child.”
“But why did you marry her?”
“I just couldn’t run away. Not from that. If she was going to have the baby, I would always be his or her dad.”
“Still, you could have walked. Paid child support and visited on holidays.”
He couldn’t do that, even back then he couldn’t abandon his unborn child and provide Sarah with a reason to consider giving up the baby. Not that he’d spend a lot of time thinking about it; he’d merely reacted to the situation in the only way he knew how. But now that he was forced to rehash it with Polly, he realized it was the one moment in his life that he was proud of.
“It was the right thing to do,” he said, knowing perfectly well he’d never been all-in either as a husband or a father. Sure, he married Sarah but he never took up the responsibility reins...until now.
Polly turned back to face the road and he caught her glistening eyes that gave away her true feelings. He could only hope she didn’t hate him.
“That’s our turnoff up ahead,” she said, her voice steady and strong. “It’s easy to miss at night, but look for the dogwood tree that Daniel planted when we were first married and you’ll always find your way back home.”
“Thanks,” he told her, knowing full well he was thanking her not for the directions but for accepting his answer.
Chapter Three (#ulink_50d044e8-409a-5560-b3a5-ee33360b85f3)
The next morning, Joel went right to work on his extensive to-do list.
First order of business was to pick up materials at the local building supply store in town. Polly had given him a list of repairs that needed to be done, in the order of their urgency. Her ranch of seventy-five acres of mostly brush with a view of the Rocky Mountains contained two good-sized pastures where a fork of the Snake River meandered through. Fortunately, the pastures had been perfectly maintained by Wade Porter, who still leased the land, so Polly didn’t have to add any kind of upkeep to her long list. Joel had to admit that Wade sure knew his way around ranching, a skill Joel hoped to emulate in the next few months.
The ranch also had one main pipe corral that was divided into several smaller areas, two outbuildings, one stable that could house ten horses, the main ranch house, one oversize barn located about fifty feet from the main house, and miles of fencing that required considerable fixing.
The buildings needed everything from a new coat of paint to replacing the electric wiring. Joel thought he could handle everything physical, but anything electric would have to be hired out. He had no intention of electrocuting himself while trying to replace a blown fuse. He knew his limits...at least he’d convinced himself that he did.
Now that summer was winding down, the main ranch house took the highest priority on the list, especially the roof. Several of the tiles had either blown off or were too decayed to save. Polly was sure the house wouldn’t make it through another rainstorm without leaking, so Joel had taken it upon himself to climb up there and assess the damage. Not that he knew what he was looking for, but he assured himself that he would learn.
Polly had tried to hire a professional team to fix the roof or at the very least, Wade Porter, the resident jack-of-all-trades. Along with maintaining the pastures, he had kept the buildings from falling into complete ruin. Unfortunately, any major work had been put off into the distant future when Polly could make more money.
She never did.
Now the distant future had arrived and Joel had taken up the challenge.
Even though he’d added his nest egg to the pot, money was still tight until they could get more horses to board and buy a few head of cattle to raise. In the meantime, Joel decided to tackle as many projects as he could on his own. He’d spent the last three evenings watching home repair videos on YouTube, taking notes and practicing his nail-pounding skills on a board out in the barn. He was certain he had this roof repair project under control. He’d already fixed the clogged sinks in each of the bathrooms, rehung a couple doors and replaced a few loose floorboards in the living room...all with the help of online videos. He felt certain that fixing the roof would be just as easy.
Besides, physical work would keep his mind off of Callie Grant. After being that close to her the previous night and allowing some of his old feelings for her to bubble to the surface he’d been temporarily thrown off course.
Not anymore. He’d awoken with new resolve. Physical labor would keep his emotions in check and his mind occupied with something other than the softness of Callie’s lips or the smell of her hair.
If he was going to make it in this town, Callie Grant had to once again fade from his consciousness and be relegated to his past...exactly where she belonged.
He only hoped he’d be able to avoid her during his many errands into town, which is why he’d left the ranch early, in order to gather up all his supplies and be back on the road within the first half hour after the store opened.
Twenty minutes after leaving the ranch, Joel drove up Main Street like he had several times before, only this time he knew the location of most of the shops. Holy Rollers bakery sat on the corner, next to Galaxy Theater, a recently restored movie theater, according to Polly, that now served up wine, coffee, tea and gourmet popcorn. He’d become very familiar with Geppetto’s Toy Shop, a staple of Emma’s must-visits whenever she drove into town with either Polly or Joel. Deli Lama’s, Spud Bank and Moo’s Creamery all inhabited the opposite side of the street along with Hess’s Department Store, where he’d bought his first pair of cowboy boots.
The town’s favorite watering hole seemed to be Belly Up, a tavern Joel had yet to visit, but was anticipating the moment. Perhaps after he finished the roof he’d drive into town and celebrate. That is if he could somehow be assured that Callaghan Grant wouldn’t be inside.
Joel parked his SUV behind From the Ground Up Building Supply Company, turned off the ignition and made his way inside the now-familiar store, which seemed to stock everything a person could possibly need to repair or build almost anything. The store occupied two stories of a well-used, organized space on the edge of town.
The strong scent of sawdust and paint permeated the air as Joel made his way inside. The floors were well-worn, scuffed, wide wooden planks, and most of the counters and the checkout area still retained the original wooden designs. Natural light poured in from the countless windows in the building. One of the two cash registers hailed from sometime in the early 1900s, while the other more modern register was tucked away behind a large basket of local russet potatoes. The modern credit card scanners had been placed inside wooden crates that had seen better days.
Joel walked through the roofing section of the store, occasionally stopping to sort through the various tiles to find the replacements he needed.
“Polly’s roof was probably originally put up in the seventies, if you’re looking to match it,” a now-familiar voice said coming from somewhere behind him. His instincts told him to ignore Callie Grant and walk right out of the store, but he knew he couldn’t leave without his supplies. Besides, he didn’t want to be downright rude. He reluctantly turned to face her as she continued to talk tiles. “They keep some older tiles out back for the locals, but your chance of finding the exact match is pretty slim. Did you look out in Polly’s barn? Chances are there’s some extras stored out there along with extra flooring, paint that was used on the walls and whatever else you might need to repair and replace what’s broken. I bet there’s even a few matching cabinet doors and some old fence pipe out there, as well.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Joel told Callie, trying his best not to seem pleased to see her again. She looked different without her tiara, especially now that her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a peach-colored sundress that made her dark skin glow, and she smelled like apples, or maybe that was just his overactive imagination.
“I’m surprised Polly hadn’t mentioned it.”
“She did, but the barn is in such bad shape that I didn’t think anything could survive out there.”
“You’d be surprised. You might want to take a look before you spend good money on something you already have.” She took a step back. “Funny, but I never pictured you as a handyman type of guy.”
“And I never saw you as a beauty queen. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “The subject never came up.”
“How would I have ever known to ask?”
“That’s just it. You and your friends were from Boise, the big city, while I was from small-town Briggs. I wanted to fit in.”
It was the first time Joel ever realized that Callie had been embarrassed about her past, as if growing up in a small town had been something to be ashamed of.
“Goes to show you how much we didn’t know about each other. I was jealous about your roots, about your closeness with your family, this town. I never had any of that growing up. I wish I could have seen you in that pageant. How old were you?”
He could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. That for some reason, it still embarrassed her.
“Seventeen. And believe me, I was talked into entering, but this, finding you fishing through asphalt roof tiles, well now, that’s something to behold. When did you get into roofing?”
He wasn’t sure if she was pulling his chain or sincerely wanted to know about his new interest in DIY projects. Either way, he was feeling a little embarrassed himself. “Only recently.”
“As in, since you moved onto the Double S Ranch?”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a good handle on this. Should be an easy fix.”
He continued to search through the different-colored tiles, hoping against hope he’d find a match. He’d already loaded his shopping cart with tar paper, something called a flat bar, a good solid hammer, roofing nails, roof cement, a trowel and a staple gun with extra staples. He was set for anything.
She glanced over at his cart and he wanted to snatch it away, but instead he ignored her.
“You might want to ask Hank Marsh about fixing that roof. It’s older and will probably require some extra skills. Hank can fix anything, and knows just about everything there is to know about making repairs inside or outside a house, a barn or a stable.”
But Joel didn’t want Hank’s help. He didn’t want anyone’s help, and he especially didn’t want Callie’s.
“There’s Hank now.” She called out his name as the older, white-haired gentleman in the short-sleeved powder blue shirt shuffled by, causing him to stop in his tracks and walk their way. Hank wore a wide grin, round frameless glasses, and sported a thick white mustache. He looked to be in his late sixties or early seventies and about as wizened as a dried fig. From the look on his face, seeing Callie Grant had to be the highlight of his morning.
“Mornin’, Miss Grant. That was quite a parade we had yesterday, more fun than any of the parades I’ve seen in one heck of a long time. Can always depend on the Grant family to stir things up in this here sleepy town. Glad you didn’t disappoint.”
“It really wasn’t my fault... Apple Sammy wouldn’t cooperate.”
“Uh-huh. What can I do you and this young fella for this morning?”
Joel wondered what other chaos the Grant family had caused in the town. He really wanted to ask, but he also wanted to buy his basket of home improvement paraphernalia and get the heck out of there. “Nothing. Thanks. I’m fine. I know exactly what I need.”
“Just hold on a minute. Joel’s fixing the ranch house roof on the Double S. I thought maybe you’d have some pointers for him, Hank.”
“’Bout time somebody shored up that there property. Been neglected for way too long. That must mean that Polly Sloan is gonna stay put. Heard the news yesterday from Phyllis Gabaur during the parade that the filly was in town, but Phyllis ain’t always reliable with her information. Glad this time she was right. Then you must be that young man I’ve been hearing about.” Hank extended his hand and Joel took it, but that was about as far as he wanted to pursue this conversation.
Polly had warned him that folks in this town liked to know your business...all of your business. Joel wasn’t in the mood to spill any details this morning.
“Sorry to hear about your loss, son. Heck of a thing for your mate to pass so young, ’specially since you’ve got a little one. Glad Polly brought you to this here town. Best therapy in the world for a youngster is to grow up on a ranch.” He glanced down at Joel’s shopping cart and shook his head. “Mm-mm-mm! You sure aren’t gonna be able to fix that old roof with what you got in that there cart. For one thing, are you repairin’ a valley leak, a window leak, the vent or the chimney? They each require special consideration. Or are you just replacing the entire roof, which is probably your best bet. That roof ain’t been touched for more years than those tiles were made to last. Plus, in my opinion, roofin’ is dangerous business, son. Unless you’re a professional, I wouldn’t advise goin’ anywhere near it. Might slide off and break your neck.”

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