Second Sunrise Cowboy (Second Chance Book 8) (4 page)

“Dalton told me she wanted to have a spitting contest with him. Who taught her that?”

Cash couldn’t lie under Hope’s glare. “Tucker and I might have showed her that game.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Honey, girls aren’t supposed to spit.”

“I hear you. I’ve been thinking of changes myself.”

“Changes, as in girlfriend?”

He laughed. “As in signing her up for those dance classes in town.”

“It’s a start at least. And I know someone who has a daughter taking classes and I bet she’d be glad to take Becca back and forth.” She smiled. “You know I’ll always be there for her. She’s like my own daughter, but you know what I mean. She loves you and looks up to you as her role model. She needs to see her daddy happy. You’re responsible for showing her how relationships work, and how love works. If spitting is the only thing she learns, she might have a difficult time come ten years from now.” Her eyes twinkled. “Dalton certainly is fascinated with her.”

“It’s not that easy, Hope.” Cash sighed.

“I get that. But there comes a point when you have to decide if you want to stay tucked away in that bubble forever or start living life again.”

“Why’s everyone concerned about my lack of a relationship?”

“Because we love you. We love Becca. You deserve someone who can be your partner.” She stood up, bent down, and kissed him on the cheek. “Now don’t stay out here long brooding. It’s not healthy.”

“Hope?” He caught her before she stepped away. “Do you believe the mind can play tricks on you when you’re sad?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

He thought over his words, but nothing he could think of would explain. “Nothing. You go on in.”

She hesitated, then smiled.

How could Cash describe that he thought he saw his late wife at the funeral?

No, it was best he didn’t say anything. After all, he was probably imaging what he saw.

Yes…that’s what it was.

Hope went to the steps of the porch, spying Becca and Dalton in the tree. “You two come out of there right this second. Becca, you’re in a dress and someone’s going to get hurt,” she yelled. The kids scurried down without any argument.

“I wish she listened to me that well.”

Hope smiled proudly. “Because she knows you give in too easily. By the way. Nice gentlemanly act at the funeral.”

“How’s that?”

“Offering the umbrella to Dakota. I’m glad to see you still have it in you.” Her eyes lit with silent meaning.

“Have what in me?”

“Kindness.”

He shook his head. “Don’t play matchmaker, you hear?”

She shrugged then disappeared into the house.

He sat on the porch until the sun started setting. He decided he’d better go inside and mingle. He wasn’t much of a socializer, never had been, but a man had to step out of his comfort zone to please those around him.

And he was starting to get hungry again.

In the dining room, he scanned the vast selection of food and decided upon a thick slice of ham. As he was spooning a large amount of cheesy potatoes onto his paper plate, he felt a tug on his jacket sleeve. He looked down and found Becca staring up at him, her bottom lip puckered and her eyes misted with unshed tears. He set the plate to the side. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His adrenaline spiked and he bent to his knee. “Are you hurt?”

“I can’t find my turtle.” One tear slipped down her rosy cheek as she lowered her gaze to the floor. He couldn’t believe this was the same girl who was roughhousing outside.

Cash lifted her chin, making eye contact with her. He wiped the tear away with his thumb. “I’m sure you’ll come across the turtle.” He didn’t have any idea which turtle she was referring to, but just like anything else, it showed up when they least expected it.

She wrapped her arms tight around her chest and sighed, her bottom lip trembling more. “That just won’t do. I can’t leave until I find him. Turtle helps me sleep.”

Cash rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had no idea she’d been sleeping with a turtle. “Okay, then tell me where you last saw Turtle.”

Her arms dropped to her sides and her nose crinkled. “Turtle had a hole in his tummy and Delores took him.”

“Took him?” he asked.

“To sew him back to normal.”

“Oh…Delores was mending Turtle. You’re talking about a stuffed animal, right sweetheart?” She nodded and he felt a sliver of relief. “Okay, then, well…where would Delores keep Turtle?” The question was more to himself than to his daughter.

“In her bedroom upstairs. That’s where she keeps her sewing kit.”

He scrubbed his jaw and nodded. “How about I go look in her bedroom while you grab a cookie?”

Her eyes lit up and she swiped the moisture from her cheeks. She took off before he could say another word.

****

Dakota stood in the middle of the bedroom, Delores’s bedroom, and looked at her aunt’s things. Her chest tightened and she hugged herself, demanding her emotions to stay in check. Her skin broke out in goosebumps and it had little to do with the chill in her bones that she couldn’t quite get rid of since the funeral.

She stared at the twin-sized bed covered in a pretty, colorful quilt. She guessed Delores made it herself. She always liked to sew and crochet.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Dakota’s toe hit something solid. She pulled out Delores’s sewing kit from under the bed. The worn basket was filled to the rim with supplies and yarn spilled out over the side onto the floor. On top sat a stuffed panda bear with big black buttons for eyes. Dakota held it up, looking at the poor fellow with the white stuffing falling out of his stomach. The bear smelled like sugar cookies and gumdrops, nothing like her aunt’s flowery perfume. Dakota clutched the bear to her chest. She had one similar when she was little.

The sun was setting and shadows crawled further into the room.

Dropping the bear back into the basket, she stood and went to the dresser, scanning the scattered items on top. Loose change, hairbrush, lotion, buttons, and a bible. She ran her fingers over the latter, opening the cover, reading the dedication inside…

“To a wonderful member of our church of forty years.”

Her aunt loved this town and the people in it. And from what Dakota could see so far, the town loved her.

In the top drawer, she found all of the letters she’d written Delores tied together in a bright, pink ribbon. On top of the stack, she saw her address written on a stamped envelope. Dakota tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. Apparently, Delores had died before she mailed the letter.

Taking the envelope out from the pile, Dakota held it as emotion rushed through her. This would be the last communication she’d have with her beloved aunt. The realization was almost too much for Dakota to accept.

Going back to the bed, she sat, staring at her aunt’s neat handwriting. She wanted to open the envelope and read what was inside, but she also wanted to savor the moment. Tears blurred her vision and her heart ached. For the last two days she’d held back her emotions and she didn’t know how much longer she could contain herself.

Turning the envelope over, she opened the flap and took out the familiar pink stationary. From as far back as she could remember, her aunt had written her letters on the rose stamped paper— it was her trademark.

Spreading the folded paper, she pushed it flat and the scent of flowers wafted up from the stationary. She started to read…

“Dearest Dakota,

I have so much to share with you. I can’t wait to see you. I wish you were here now.”

More tears welled up in Dakota’s eyes until she couldn’t see. She dropped the letter to the bed. Getting up, she slowly made her way into the bathroom and used a tissue to blot her eyes.

One eye stung.

Standing at the sink, she stood on tiptoes, holding her top and bottom lid open to look for what had irritated the pupil.

The outside door to the room creaked and she paused, listening. Stepping to the bathroom doorway, she stopped dead in her tracks and the hair on the back of her neck stood erect. Cash Bailey stood in the middle of the room. He didn’t see her.

She treaded backward, her chest on fire. What was he doing here? The last thing she needed right now was to face a man with a bad attitude.

Pressing against the wall, she held her breath. In the mirror, she could see him taking several steps, his boots thudding against the floor. Would he find her here?

His hat sat low on his forehead, but Dakota could see the hard set of his jaw. He brought his hand up and swiped his face. He stood there, looking at something.

Oh no. She’d left the letter on the bed. Would he read it?

The door came open again. Cash turned, but from where Dakota stood she couldn’t see who had joined him. “Lanie, what are you doing in here? I thought you’d already left,” he said.

“Did you think I would leave until we talked, handsome?”

“I don’t think there’s anything for us to talk about. It’s all been said.” Cash pushed his hat back.

Dakota took a step to her right, moving deeper into the bathroom. She didn’t want to be here, listening to whatever was about to take place.

“Don’t pretend that you aren’t the least bit happy to see me.” The woman, Lanie, stepped into view. Her long, dark hair hung in ringlets down her back. When she shifted, her hair moved away from her profile. Dakota could see her upturned nose and crimson lips.

“Lanie, this isn’t a good idea. Why don’t you wait for me downstairs—” Cash’s deep voice, marked with a Texas twang, did funny things to Dakota’s inner thighs. She couldn’t deny the facts. He had a nice voice. Too bad he didn’t have the attitude to go with it.

“Were you trying to get away from the crowd, Cash?” the brunette asked in a tone that reeked of seduction.

“I was looking for something of Becca’s.”

Dakota pressed her hand against her mouth. It was too late to announce herself. They’d go away soon, at least she hoped.

“Why haven’t you called me?”  Lanie questioned.

“I’ve been busy,” he said.

Dakota bit her bottom lip, narrowing her eyes. Cash was lying. Men used the excuse for being busy when they didn’t want to hurt a woman’s feelings. Dakota should know since her ex used every excuse in the book but the truth. So not only did Cash have a bad attitude, he was a liar, too? Figured. Were all men alike?

“Oh, I see. You no longer have time for me.” Lanie’s disappointed sigh echoed off the walls.

At least Lanie is smart enough to see things for what they are.

Dakota shifted quietly, to get a better angle. She could see more of Cash. She shouldn’t watch, but she couldn’t help herself.

Delores had sung Cash Bailey’s praises in her letters. Dakota rolled her eyes. She bet her aunt never saw this side of him.

What her aunt saw was a man who’d lost his wife to cancer and was raising his daughter on his own. Dakota agreed, that’s a huge responsibility, but there were many single parents. He was lucky he had Becca. Dakota wanted a child, wished on many occasions she could find the right man who wanted a family. She’d wasted years on the wrong man.

Dakota remembered Delores saying that Cash deserved to find romance again, and how much Becca needed a mother. Dakota sighed. Well, looks like the cowboy had found someone…or the woman, Lanie, had found him. Dakota couldn’t quite figure out the dynamics of their relationship yet.

The brunette pressed her body against Cash’s, bringing her hand up to caress his stubbly cheek, long red nails stroking his skin. Dakota bit her bottom lip, knowing she had to interrupt them, but her feet wouldn’t move. If things got heated between the couple, Dakota would never live it down.

“Come to dinner tonight,” Lanie purred.

Dakota saw something flash in his expression. Looking for another excuse maybe? He should just tell her the truth.

“I can’t. I’ll be with Becca.”

Lanie slid the crimson talons down his chest and came to a stop at the big, silver buckle, tapping it with the tip of one nail, then leaned her head back on one shoulder as Cash’s lips thinned. “When are you going to stop fighting the attraction between us, cowboy?” she whined. “I’ve chased you long enough.” Lanie’s sultry voice and sex appeal could have made most men puddle at her feet, so why wasn’t Cash? The woman practically threw her body his way.

“You gotta stop this,” Cash said in a throaty tone.

Dakota silently urged Lanie, this stranger, to not lose any more face and just walk away.

Lanie did the unthinkable. She stood on tiptoe and kissed Cash, fully on the mouth.

Dakota tore her gaze away, embarrassment warming her cheeks. She hoped, above everything, Cash didn’t succumb, but he probably would. Wouldn’t most men? Dakota’s cheating ex certainly did.

Lanie seemed like the type of woman most men fell for. She was a knockout in the skin-tight skirt and her long, glistening hair that hung in waves down to her bottom. Self-consciously, Dakota glanced at her reflection, touching her chin-length bob. She held no regret in giving all of her hair to someone who could put it to better use than she could. She’d never considered herself beautiful, but she’d always gotten compliments on her eyes and the shape of her face. Her breasts were small, but firm, and her ass hadn’t fallen…not yet.