A Cowboy's Heart (11 page)

Now wasn't the time. Maybe there wouldn't be a time, because he could see in her eyes that fear of being hurt again.

“I'll see you in the morning.” He took another step back. “Do you want me to help you do the dishes?”

She held up the two bowls and smiled, like she knew that he was stalling. “Two bowls, Clint. I think I can manage.”

He nodded. “Okay, I'll go then.”

“Don't forget, the boys are spending the night with us.”

“Of course.” And it was time for him to go. He backed off the porch, holding the rail and smiling as he turned to leave.

“See you tomorrow?” she called out after him.

He turned at his truck, surprised to see her still standing on the porch, and looking like a girl who really did want to know if the guy was coming back.

“Of course.”

C
lint followed Willow out of the house after lunch the next day. The boys were still with Janie, because after a night of movies and popcorn, they weren't ready for the fun to end. Willow was nearly to the barn when he caught up to her. A hand on her arm, and she turned.

“I'm going to visit my dad, and I'm going to pick up a few things for our next trip. Did you need anything in town, or do you want to ride along?”

“Trip?”

“Austin?” Bull riding, like she didn't know what he meant.

“Yes, I know what Austin is. You're not riding.”

“I am riding because this is the last event before the summer break. I know that I need surgery. I also know that I can ride. I've been on a few practice bulls.”

She shook her head. “You could do more damage.”

“I could, but I don't plan on letting that happen. Do you need anything from town?”

“Oh, so you can tell me what to do, but if I try to say anything about your riding, you change the subject.”

He pushed his hat down on his head and dug his heels into
the firm dirt, and reality. Willow was staring at him, waiting for a response, and he didn't have one. He smiled, because she looked about fit to be tied.

“I'll see you later, Willow.”

“I'm going with you.”

“Really?”

“You offered.” She shifted on booted feet and bit down on her bottom lip. “I do have a few things I could pick up at the store.”

“You don't mind running by the nursing home with me?” Willow, going with him, to see his dad. What kind of move into his life was that?

“I don't mind at all.”

But did he mind her going? A long time ago, but not that long ago, he'd been a lanky teen with dirty jeans, and girls like Willow wouldn't have climbed into his truck if his had been the last truck out of a burning town. That kid was still inside him, still fighting acne, and dreaming about someday having a wife and a family, maybe a ranch with some cattle and a nice truck.

He hadn't had a lot of time for fun back then, not with farm work, his dad drunk most of the time and Jenna relying on him. He still had that list of priorities, things that had to come first, had to come ahead of his own dreams.

Willow had shifted everything, and now he had to figure out where to put her in his life.

“Where to first?” Willow was talking to him as she pulled her hair back and tied it with a thin scarf. Strawberry lip gloss tinted her lips, and he was having the hardest time of his life remembering his responsibilities.

“The nursing home.” He opened the passenger door of his truck for her, and she climbed up, reaching to pull the door closed. He shut it from the outside and took his time getting to the driver's side.

“Why are you acting like I've invaded your personal space?”
Willow spoke as soon as he climbed into his truck. “You've been invading
my
space since the day I met you.”

He reached to turn down the radio. He didn't need a country song about a stupid boy. Not even if that's what he thought about her ex-husband walking out on her.

“You're not invading my space. I have a lot on my mind.”

She was on his mind. Great, all of his thoughts were starting to sound like a country song. If this day ended with the dog getting run over or someone going to prison, he'd switch to rock music.

Intent on letting the conversation drop, he reached to turn up the radio. She turned it up more, smiling. “I like this song.”

Of course she did.

They were a mile from the nursing home. “Willow, I need to warn you about my dad.”

“Okay.”

“He's hard to handle. Sometimes he's in the past, sometimes not. And he says things, sometimes hard things.”

“I can handle it.”

He knew she could, but he didn't want her to be on the receiving end of one of his father's verbal assaults. “Maybe you should…”

“Wait in the car?”

“I'm sorry.”

“If you want me to wait in the car, I will. I'd rather go in with you.”

He pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home. “No, I don't want you to wait.”

He'd always been the one who was there for others. He'd been there for his dad, and for his sister. Other than Janie, he'd never really thought about having someone “there” for him. But that's what this was about. It was about Willow trying to be there for him. It felt like a new pair of boots, not quite right.

He had put her in the category of another woman he was
drawn to who probably needed to be fixed in some way. That had been his track record in the past.

He parked, and she got out of the truck. Willow, tall and beautiful, from a world far removed from his. And she was the one who was going to be there for him as he faced a father who was sinking into a world they couldn't understand.

Her hand slipped into his, and the earlier discussion about riding bulls and being in each other's space faded from his mind. It was no longer important.

At the front desk they signed in as visitors. Willow signed her name next to his. As they walked down the hall, their shoulders brushed, and his hand touched hers. He felt her fingers on his, but they didn't clasp hands. He didn't explain to her about his dad, and about the times the older Cameron had gotten drunk and hit his children because he'd been positive their mother died in that car accident because of them, because she'd been on her way to school to pick them up.

Clint inhaled deeply at the memory of the patrol car pulling up at the school and the social worker helping them into the vehicle.

Willow's fingers slid through his. She knew how his mother had died. She'd explained that Janie told her and she was sorry.

“How long has he been here?”

“A few months. I moved him in here before I moved home.”

“That couldn't have been easy. I'm sorry.”

She had lost a child and her husband had walked out on her. He kissed the side of her head, his lips brushing her hair. “Thank you.”

“Is that you, Clint?” The raspy voice from inside the room carried into the hall.

“It's me, Dad.”

“Is Jenna with you?”

Clint led Willow into the room, felt her hesitate at the door, but then she stepped close to his side again.

“No, it's my friend, Willow.”

“Where's Jenna?”

Clint sat on the edge of the bed, next to the frail form of his dad. Willow walked to the window. He wondered if the broken-down tractor was still in the field out there and if she was wondering why the farmer had left it that way.

“Dad, Jenna's in Iraq. Remember?”

“Why's the judge's daughter with you?” His dad made a noise in his throat. “You know she's out of your league.”

Out of his league. He brushed off old insecurities.

“She isn't the judge's daughter. Willow is Janie's niece.”

“The one that can't hear? What's she doing here?”

“Dad, she can hear.” He shot Willow an apologetic look, but she was smiling, not at all upset.

“I don't care if she can. Get me some oatmeal that isn't runny. They always bring me runny oatmeal.”

“I'll bring some oatmeal later.” He poured water instead. “Dad, I'm going to be gone a few days. We're going to Austin.”

“Eloping?”

“No, we're going to a bull ride.”

“Does she have money? That aunt of hers has money.”

“Now you're embarrassing me. And I have my own money.”

“Then maybe you ought to get me out of this roach motel.”

Willow's laughter was soft, and Clint's dad looked at her. He smiled.

“Dad, when I get home, I'll take you to dinner. How does that sound? Maybe we could go to church together.”

“You aren't going to take me to church. I don't have any use for religious people.”

And that hurt. Clint couldn't think about this part of his father's life, the part without faith. He closed his eyes, repeating a prayer that he'd repeated numerous times over the years. He wanted his dad to have faith.

“Dad, when I get back, we'll go to church and then we'll go to lunch. We'll get a good steak.” Steak for church.

“Fine, we'll go to church if you'll buy me steak. Don't bring those boys or that old woman.”

“We'll all go together.” He leaned and kissed his dad's thinning gray hair. “We'll go together, Dad. I'll see you next week.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Cameron.” Willow touched his father's arm as she walked by his bed. “I'll see you at church.”

Clint waited at the door for her, and they walked out together. His dad yelled something about not wanting them to elope.

“I'm sorry about that. I did try to warn you.”

Willow laughed, soft and easy. “He's something else.”

“He's always been something else. He was charming, funny, drunk and mean. The best of all worlds.”

“It had to be hard on you, and on Jenna.”

“It wasn't easy, but we survived.” He pushed the door open and held it for her. “As a teenager life was about faith and surviving, about believing that God really would deliver us from that situation. And as hard as it was, I loved him, and I still love him. He taught me to ride. He taught me to fish. He had his moments.”

“Janie said you were a hard worker and everyone loved you.”

He grinned, winking as he opened the truck door for her. “Yeah, everyone loved me.”

 

Everyone really did love Clint. Willow watched him walk through the small grocery store in Grove, being greeted by older women and people closer to his own age. Willow walked along behind him, pushing the cart and tossing in items that weren't really on her list. Clint paused at the end of the aisle, talking to a woman with a beehive hairdo and cotton dress. He motioned Willow forward.

“Do you know Janie's niece, Willow Michaels?” he asked the
woman, who was giving Willow a look that clearly measured her against Clint and drew a lot of conclusions.

“I don't believe I've met her.” The woman smiled.

“Willow, this is Addie Johns. She was my high-school math teacher.” He laughed an easy laugh. “And she somehow taught me calculus.”

“It wasn't easy.” Addie Johns shook her head. “The boy had horses and cows on the brain. And girls.”

Clint flushed a light shade of red. “Now, Addie, you know that isn't true.”

The older woman laughed and patted his hand. “No, it wasn't true, was it. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've seen you in love before.”

Willow choked because Addie Johns meant only one thing by that statement. She was putting them together as a couple. And that couldn't happen.

“Oh, Miss Johns, we're not…”

“Ready to tell everyone.” Clint finished Willow's objection and then reached for her hand. “We can trust you to keep it a secret, though.”

“Oh, of course.” Addie Johns grabbed her cart. “Well, I should get my shopping done. You two have a wonderful day. And don't forget to send me an invitation.”

Willow waited until the lady disappeared before punching Clint on the arm. “Why did you do that?”

“To see who would be more surprised, you or Addie. I think you win.”

“She'll tell everyone in town.”

“More like the entire county.” He laughed. “I can hear it now. Phones ringing up and down the line, ladies at home, washing dishes and speculating on a wedding date, and if we'll last, or…”

“Stop.” Willow pushed the cart away from him, tossing a few packages of cookies in with a bag of Reese's.

“I was joking, Willow.”

“I don't want to be a joke.”

He pulled the cart to a stop and stepped close to her side. Willow backed away, feeling the cold of the frozen-food coolers behind her. Clint leaned in, smiling, his gum cinnamon and his cologne a soft hint of pine.

She glared, hoping to put him in his place.

“Okay, it wasn't a joke.”

She looked away, even more confused. “Clint, stop.”

“Make up your mind, Willow. Do I stop, or do we take a few steps forward to see how this works out?”

Everyone loved Clint. Willow couldn't let herself think those thoughts, or how it felt when he cared about her. He didn't understand the difficulties a relationship with her would include.

“Clint, I have so many things going on in my life right now.”

“So do I.”

“So, we don't have time for this conversation. Not now. Not here.”