Cowboy Daddy (12 page)

A kiss that rocked Nicole's world.

She pulled away, her heart thrumming in her chest.
What was she doing? This was dangerous. And confusing. And…

Wonderful.

Kissing Kip was like coming home.

N
icole smoothed her hair, checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror of her car and took in a deep breath.

It's just a gathering of people, she reminded herself, pushing aside memories of a God she used to think cared about her. You're only here so you can see your nephews.

She slung her leather purse over her shoulder and strode across the parking lot to the white stucco church, her high heels clicking on the asphalt. The summer sun warmed her shoulders, and for a moment she regretted the suit and silk shirt she had chosen for today.

When she had gone to church with the Williams family, Norah had insisted on wearing their best clothes. A sign of respect and consideration she had said, as Tricia fought putting on the cute dress that always matched Nicole's. Only Nicole was allowed to brush Tricia's dark hair and tie it up in a ribbon, and once they were all ready, only Nicole was allowed to help Tricia put her coat on.

Nicole's steps faltered as the old memories surfaced. On the heels of that came the reminder of her beloved sister's last wishes.

That the boys be with their father and with her.

A young father and mother and their two children came
out of a car ahead of her, and as they got out, the woman smiled at Nicole and wished her a good morning.

Another elderly couple did the same as she neared the church building.

Friendly, Nicole thought, as she pushed open one of the large glass doors of the building. The buzz of conversation greeted her. People young and old milled about the entrance, chatting and visiting with one another. She held back for a moment, assessing and looking around. People knew each other. She didn't belong.

She pushed the thought aside as she worked her way through the gathering to the double doors she saw past the people. Once she got to the main auditorium, things were a little quieter, but not much. People were settling into pews, still talking amongst one another.

The front stage area held a lectern, a set of drums, a piano and a few guitars standing upright on stands.

“Welcome to our church,” a young man said, handing her a piece of paper. “I hope you like the service.”

Nicole glanced at his blue jeans topped with a T-shirt and open shirt and felt overdressed.

“You visiting here?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.” She looked over the people already seated, that out-of-place feeling returning. She didn't know anyone. “Is the Cosgrove family here yet?”

“They're sitting where they always sit.” Nicole looked in the direction he was pointing and immediately recognized Kip's tall figure and his broad shoulders. Justin and Tristan sat on either side of him.

Kip's mother sat in her wheelchair in the aisle beside him, which made Nicole frown. Why wasn't she using her walker?

She brushed the questions aside and with a nod to the
young man strode down the aisle. She came at the pew from the other side and slid into the empty spot beside Justin.

Kip, who had been talking to his mother while Nicole sat down, turned suddenly. As their eyes met, Nicole felt that sudden jolt of awareness that not only surprised her but disconcerted her.

In spite of her mental warnings, she let her smile linger and shift.

Kip's returning smile softened his features and created another, more peculiar tingle.

“Auntie Nicole, you came.” Justin grinned, tucking his warm, slightly damp hand inside hers.

“I want to sit by Auntie Nicole too,” Tristan whined.

“Okay, go ahead, but be quiet,” Kip warned.

Tristan scooted past Justin and sat triumphantly on her other side.

“You guys look really spiffy,” she said, glancing from one to the other. She hardly recognized the shining faces, the slicked-back hair and the white shirts and dark pants she remembered ironing the other day.

Justin made a face. “Gramma always makes us dress up for church. Says it's a sign of respect.”

Nicole felt a touch of melancholy at the words, so similar to what she'd just been thinking. Her mother used to say the same thing whenever they went to church and Tricia would argue about what to wear.

Mary leaned forward and waved to Nicole. “Hey, Nicole. Good to see you here. I didn't think you'd come.”

Nicole hadn't thought she would either, but here she was. She returned Mary's smile, but as she sat back, her eyes naturally drifted to Kip, who was still watching her. His expression had grown serious, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown of, what? Concentration? Disapproval?

Nicole turned her attention back to boys, trying to keep
their high spirits reasonably under control. This was church, after all.

“We told Gramma about the Stampede,” Justin said. “And the midway and the Ferris wheel.” Nicole's heart jolted at that. Had the boys seen their kiss? “She said it sounded like fun.”

“Can I play with your phone again?” Justin asked.

“It's my turn. You played with it last time,” Tristan said.

Nicole shook her head. “It's not respectful,” she said, building on what Mary had already told them.

They looked like they were about to argue when a figure dropped into the pew beside Justin. Isabelle.

She wore a skirt today, short and snug, and under that leggings with lace at the bottom and ballet flats with bright orange flowers. Her shirt was a riot of pink and purple overtop of an orange tank top. A white scarf was draped around her neck.

Obviously still trying to find a personal style.

Isabelle shot Nicole a frown. “What are you doing here?”

“And a good morning to you,” Nicole said with a bright smile, determined not to let Isabelle push her around.

“Auntie Nicole, when can we talk to our Grandpa on the phone again?”

Nicole shot a frown their way. “What Grandpa are you talking about?”

“The one in Toronto, silly,” Justin shot back.

“You don't have a Grandpa in Toronto.” Isabelle spoke the words with smug authority.

“Yes, we do,” Tristan said. “Auntie Nicole let us talk to him.”

“Why are you telling them that?” Isabelle gave Nicole
a look that was supposed to be disdainful, but in her eyes, Nicole caught a hint of fear. “My Dad was their only Grandpa.”

Though she treated the boys like they were nothing but a nuisance, Nicole sensed Isabelle would be just as upset as her mother was if the boys were to leave.

Nicole looked away, the moment of vulnerability creating an unease.

Things were getting complicated, she thought, her eyes drifting over to Kip and beyond that to Mary. Complicated and confusing. She wasn't as sure of what she needed to do as when she first came here. She wasn't so sure she wanted to take the boys away from this home.

Or Kip.

She brushed the second thoughts aside. She was letting her emotions interfere with what she knew was right. Tricia had wanted her parents to take care of her boys. What Nicole thought of the situation had nothing to do with that.

The music started up and everyone stood. The leader announced the song they were going to sing and words flashed up on a screen in the front of the church.

The song had a catchy tune and soon she was singing along, surprised to find herself enjoying the music. The song segued into another, quieter song.

The words to this song were familiar to her. It was an older hymn, and the combination of music drew up pictures of Tricia and her parents standing in church together. The memories created an unwelcome thickness in her throat

She stopped singing, pulling back from the emotions and the memories. By the time she had everything under control the song, thankfully, was ended.

They were greeted by a minister who welcomed them all and led them in prayer, followed by another song.

As they went through the service, Nicole's self-control returned. Besides, she was distracted enough keeping the boys from fidgeting too much or talking too loudly.

“You boys have to be a little quieter,” she whispered as they sat down after another song.

Justin sighed. “Uncle Kip always says that too.”

“Uncle Kip is right,” Nicole said, slipping her arms around the boys' shoulders as the minister encouraged them to turn to 1 Corinthians 13.

Tristan pulled a Bible from the pew ahead of him, laying it on Nicole's lap and gesturing for her to look it up.

She felt a moment's panic as she opened it and flipped through the pages. The name of the book was familiar and she remembered that it was in the New Testament, but that was it. The minister started reading, but she still hadn't found the passage.

“Don't you know where it is, Auntie Nicole?” Tristan asked.

“No. Sorry.” Flip, flip. Still no luck. She knew the book, not where it was located.

Then Kip leaned past Justin and turned to the right spot.

Nicole's cheeks burned and for a moment she felt like she didn't belong here. Couldn't even find a book of the Bible.

Her eyes flew over the page trying to catch up to the minister. There it was.

“…If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” The words came at her in a steady rhythm. Her mind slipped
back to her father and how she'd yearned every day for not only his respect, but even more, his love.

“…. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” A haunting tune wove itself through the words as he read. The tune was from a song she remembered Norah Williams singing when she was a young girl. It was a song about how deep the Father's love, how vast beyond all measure. The song had spoken to her then, had called to the part of her that had longed for her biological father's love, then, later, tried to earn Sam's love. Then Tricia left and the song and the feelings they evoked were buried in the barrage of pain and sorrow that followed.

“…And now these three remain. Faith, hope and love, but the greatest of these is love.”

The sorrows of the past beat at her, yet, in spite of that, below the turmoil, the words of the passage offered something more.

The love of God. The steadfast and faithful love of God.

Then the minister closed the Bible, leaned on the podium and started speaking.

“This passage is not simply about love. To put it in context, the people of Corinth wanted one thing—certain spiritual gifts—but needed something even more important. Love. Love is just a small word,” he continued. “A word that has been thrown about so often, we've sucked all the power out of it. Love is a word that the Creator of the world not only invented, but embodies.”

His words drew Nicole on as he spoke of God's faithful love and how it satisfies all our needs. How love is such a small word for the powerful thing God had done when He gave up His own life for the sake of sinful beings.

“Who would put the needs of someone else before such
imperfect beings? Only God has that kind of love. The love our parents have is powerful, but not as powerful as God's love for us. This love comes to us as a gift. Freely given. We don't deserve it and we can't earn it.”

Nicole listened to the pastor, seeking the hope and love he claimed was hers for the taking, just as Kip had told her the other night. A love that didn't need to be earned because it could never be earned. Love that was freely given, in spite of the cost, and meant to be freely received.

The words slipped into the empty spaces in Nicole's heart. It seemed she had spent all of her time at the Williamses' home feeling as if she had to earn their love. Her father reinforced that feeling with each expectation he had of her—work at his side in the foundation, live at home and now make sure that Tricia's boys come to where he thought they should be.

What else could she do? It was her reality.

Then, it seemed too soon, the service was over. They stood for the final song, and as the notes rang away, Tristan tugged on her hand.

“It's time to go,” he said, dragging her out of her circling thoughts.

They were stopped at the end of the pew by the flow of people all exiting at once. As Nicole was drawn back into reality, she pulled Tristan back as he tried to wiggle his way through the crowd. “Why are you in such a rush?” he asked.

“We have to get to Auntie Doreen's right away,” Tristan said. “So we can get the best toys.”

“Auntie Doreen's? What are you talking about?”

“We always go to Auntie Doreen's for lunch,” Justin said, in a tone that implied she should know this.

Nicole glanced back over her shoulder, but Kip was exiting the other aisle, pushing his mother's wheelchair. She'd
have to wait until he caught up to her to find out what was going on.

The boys had their own plan. They pulled her along, and as they exited the auditorium, someone called the boys' names.

“Oh, brother,” Justin said, throwing his hands up in an dramatic gesture. “Now we're going to be late.” But he stopped and turned around.

A young woman carrying a tiny baby in one arm and leading a little girl roughly the same age as the boys walked up to them. “Hey, guys. There you are,” she said to them.

The woman's hair was the same shade as Kip's and her eyes the same color. Her features were closer to Isabelle's than her brother's. When she smiled at the boys, Nicole could see Mary Cosgrove in the shape of her mouth.

“I'm guessing you're Nicole,” the woman said. When she met Nicole's eyes, her smile tightened, as if she had to force it.

Nicole wasn't surprised. She didn't think Kip's sister would be thrilled to meet the woman who was laying a claim to her nephews.

Alleged nephews, she reminded herself.

“Hello, I'm Doreen. Kip's sister.” Doreen raised her chin by way of greeting, her hands otherwise occupied with two of her children. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”