The Bull Rider's Homecoming (10 page)

“Is your mom in bed?”

The girls shook their heads in unison. “Uh-uh. Watching TV.”

Well, it wasn't as if he could just walk away without telling her he'd stopped by. That would be weird, so he said, “Maybe I could say hello before I go.”

Katie took his hand in her much smaller one and led him to the living room where Annie was sound asleep on the sofa, her soft brown hair hiding her face.

“Okay, guys. Your mom isn't feeling too good, so let's let her have a little rest.”

“I think she's already asleep,” Katie said.

“And we aren't guys,” Kristen said. “We're girls.”

“Are you sure?”

The girls burst into laughter. “You know we're girls.”

“Yeah, I do. I call everyone guys,” Trace said in a lower voice so they wouldn't wake Annie, who was indeed passed out. “Even girls.” He thought about covering her with the afghan draped over the arm of the easy chair, but didn't want to risk waking her. Instead he turned and headed into the kitchen. As he expected, the girls followed close behind.

Annie's kitchen was neat, like the rest of the house, and full of warmth and color. Now that he had a moment to study the room, he saw that her use of bright paint and cheerful decorations made it easy to overlook the fact that the appliances were ancient or that the windows needed caulking. It looked like Annie was about to tackle that, however, since there were two industrial-sized tubes of caulking on the counter near the toaster.

“Mom said we can't touch those,” Kristen said.

“Yeah. She's right.” Trace imagined that if the girls managed to get the caulking into the gun, they could create an awesome mess. Grady had told him stories about his nieces, so Trace had an inkling of what he was dealing with here—adventurous girls with lots of energy and ideas. “Have you guys eaten yet?”

“We ate at Emily's,” Katie said. “Right after the other kids left with their moms.”

“But we're kind of hungry now,” Kristen said. “Do you know how to cook? Uncle Grady used to cook when he was here. He cooked lots of stuff in the Crock-Pot.”

“He writes us postcards from where he is,” Katie announced. “We each get one.”

“That's cool,” Trace said with a smile, admiring the bounce from Grady cooking to writing postcards.

“Maybe we can cook in the Crock-Pot,” Kristen said hopefully.

“I think that might take too long.”

“'Sides,” Katie said in a authoritative voice, “Mom doesn't let us use plug-in things.”

“Then we'll leave the Crock-Pot to your mom. What do you guys like to eat?”

“What we like best is mac and cheese,” Katie announced before dashing to the pantry and coming back with two boxes. “One for us and one for you.”

Trace hadn't planned on eating there but quickly changed his mind. The longer he stayed, the more downtime Annie would get.

“Do you really want that kind of mac and cheese or the real kind?” Because Trace hated boxed mac and cheese. It'd been one of the few things they could afford to eat when his mom was sick and he'd be quite happy if he never saw an orangish-yellow elbow noodle again in his life.

“The real kind? You can make the real kind?”

“If you have macaroni noodles and cheese, I can.”

“We have lots of macaroni.”

“We paint it and make necklaces.”

“Do you have any unpainted macaroni?”

The girls laughed. “Yes, silly. We have bags and bags.” Kristen went to the pantry again and came back with salad macaroni, which Trace could see would make better necklaces than the elbow variety, since the hollow noodles were shorter and barely curved.

“Is that the only kind you have?”

The girls nodded in unison. “Cool. Now we have to be real quiet while your mom sleeps. Katie, can you show me where your pots and pans are? And Kristen, can you find the cheese? Let's see if we have enough.”

Oh, yeah. There was enough. Apparently Annie liked cheese. There wasn't much milk, though. He went to the pantry and found a great stash of canned goods, including evaporated milk. Until he'd started hanging out at the McClure Ranch, he'd had no idea that the stuff even existed, but Josie had taught him not only of its existence, but how to use it. On a ranch where the big shopping trip happened once a month, there were certain staples that couldn't be depended on, like fresh milk, so the ranch had had huge stores of canned goods...kind of like Annie did.

With a lot of enthusiastic help, Trace made a white sauce and boiled the macaroni. He gave each girl a small piece of cheese to grate, while he cut the rest into cubes, which he put in the white sauce to melt. Josie had taught him to take the pan off the heat so that the cheese didn't separate.

He missed Josie and Ernest, the time he'd spent with them, the things he'd learned. He went to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of mustard. The reaction from the girls was instantaneous.

“Ewww!”

“No mustard!” Kristen made another horrified face.

“Just a teaspoon.”

Katie's mouth flattened.

“It's the secret ingredient in all good mac and cheese.” Two little noses wrinkled. “The thing is, when you mix mustard with cheese, it tastes way different than when it's on a hot dog.” The girls gave him another dubious look and he put the mustard back in the fridge. It was their dinner, after all. So what if the mac and cheese was minus the zing of mustard?

“What do we do with
our
cheese?”

“We put that on top.”

The girls sprinkled the cheese and helped spread it evenly over the macaroni that Trace had poured into a cake pan. He put it in the oven and set the timer.

“Now what?”

Well, he certainly couldn't leave the macaroni cooking and go home. “What do you guys—girls—usually do while waiting for supper to cook?”

“We do our schoolwork.”

“Or watch TV.”

“Or play on the computer.”

“Or play dolls.”

Katie's face brightened. “Yeah. You can be the boy dolls!”

“I...”

But Kristen was already on her way out of the room, Katie close behind her. A moment later they came back carrying a box of dolls and small clothing.

Trace pushed the hair back from his forehead. This was foreign territory.

Katie set three fashion dolls in various states of dress on the table then looked up at Trace. “Who do you want to be?”

“Uh...where's that guy doll you were talking about?”

Kristen dug into the bin and pulled out two identical boy dolls—one wearing striped pajamas and the other wearing jeans and a white shirt with an aluminum foil buckle on his small belt. “This is Tyler and this is Jess. They're twins. Like us.”

Trace knew Tyler and Jess Hayward, the bull-riding twins. He wondered if they knew they had tiny doppelgangers.

“We don't have many boy clothes,” Katie said.

“And they don't fit in the girl jeans, so Tyler has to wear his pajamas.”

“Or his beach shorts.” Katie pulled out a pair of flowered swim trunks.

Trace picked up Tyler. “So, what's my job?”

“We have to get the horses and then we play rodeo.”

Not what he'd been expecting.

“Uncle Grady got us a bull, too, so Tyler and Jess can ride the bull.”

“In his pajamas?” Trace asked.

“Well, he has to wear something,” Katie remarked in a grown-up tone as she headed out of the room. She reappeared a few minutes later with a crate of horses and, sure enough, there was a Brahma bull in with the plastic model horses.

“I'll get the cans,” Kristen said.

“Cans?”

“For barrel racing,” Katie said as if he was slow on the uptake.

And so Trace got down on the floor and played rodeo with the girls. Tyler did very well riding the bull, but Jess got tossed off and landed in the sink of soapy water with a big splash, much to the girls' delight.

“Mom never lets us do that.”

“Mom...” He almost said “doesn't need to know” before he realized that was not a very wise thing to say to two impressionable seven-year-olds. “Mom knows best,” he amended. He got to his feet and fished Jess out of the sink and left him to dry on the drain rack before sitting back down again. Out of curiosity, he asked, “Do you guys ever play anything but rodeo?”

“Sometimes we play school and sometimes we play going-on-a-date, but mostly we play rodeo.”

“You can go on a date
to
a rodeo,” Kristen announced. “That's where Uncle Grady and Lex went on their first date.”

“We went, too!” Katie added.

“That must have been some first date.”

“It was,” Kristen said, suddenly solemn. “Lex got scared and sad because her dad died at a rodeo, but Uncle Grady helped her get not afraid.”

“And now they're getting married,” Katie interjected.

“We're flower girls!”

Trace fought a smile and then the timer dinged. “Dinner is done,” he said, getting to his feet. Why don't you two put this stuff back in the box before we eat? I'll set the table.”

And then he'd check on Annie, something he'd wanted to do ever since he started playing the rodeo game.

Chapter Ten

Annie paused briefly outside the kitchen door, a hand on the wall to keep her balance because she was still very light-headed. Trace hadn't seen her as he pushed himself up from where he'd been sitting on the floor, playing rodeo with the girls. He'd made dinner. Annie didn't quite know what to make of that. Actually she was too tired and weak to try to make something of it.

She headed to the bathroom where she looked longingly at her robe hanging on the door before washing her hands and walking back down the hall. The girls were setting the table in the kitchen and Trace was waiting for her in the living room.

“Feeling any better?”

“I'd be lying if I said yes.” Her voice was hoarse. Barely a croak. Whatever this bug was, it worked fast. “You don't need to stay, you know.”

“Yeah. I know.” He gave her a patient look. “Here's the deal...this is very much like you scraping me up out of the parking lot and forcing me to go home with you even when I didn't want to.”

“Is it?” she asked, somehow managing to cock one eyebrow.

“Yeah. It is. You're at a disadvantage and I'm here to help, even though you don't think you need help.”

“If you say so.” She closed her eyes, felt the room start to spin.

“As soon as the girls eat and we wash the dishes, I'm leaving. I'll leave now if you want, but I'll feel better knowing that the girls are fed.”

“What are they eating?” She didn't bother to open her eyes.

“Mac and cheese. The homemade kind.”

Now her eyes opened. “Homemade macaroni and cheese?”

“One of my specialties.”

“I wish I felt better. I love homemade macaroni.” She reached for the afghan folded over the arm of the sofa and dragged it up over her, clutching it with her fist just below her chin. “I haven't been sick in years. I hate it.”

“I know,” he said gently before turning and leaving the room, the old floorboards squeaking under his boots. A few minutes later the girls came into the room, but they didn't climb up on the sofa to snuggle next to her as they usually did. Probably for the best.

“We're checking on you,” Katie announced.

“Before we eat. Trace made macaroni.”

“You should call him Mr. Delaney,” Annie murmured.

“He played rodeo with us, Mom. He said to call him Trace.”

“Well, if he played rodeo, that changes things. You should eat before it gets cold.”

“We'll save you some,” Katie promised. “It smells really good.”

“And don't worry,” Kristen added. “There's no mustard.”

No mustard. Annie let her head slump sideways. She loved mustard.

“I'm going now.” Annie jerked upright at the sound of Trace's voice and she realized that she'd fallen asleep. He came closer and held out her phone. “Would you let me put my number in it? Just in case?”

Annie didn't argue. She unlocked the phone and handed it back. A few seconds later he put it on the end table beside her. “Feel better, Annie. Call if you need me.”

* * *

A
NNIE
MADE
IT
a point to call Trace the next day to tell him she didn't need him. She was feeling better. Not that much better, but enough better that she could cook for the girls and get around on her own. Not fall asleep every time she sat down. And since it was Sunday, she had a full day to recover.

“I hope you don't catch this,” she said. Because she wouldn't have wished this on anyone, except for maybe Shelly.

“I doubt I will. I have a constitution of steel. All the travel.”

“Grady's the same way.” An awkward silence followed, the kind that came when something needed to be said and wasn't, which was ridiculous because Annie had nothing else to say except for thank you, and she'd done that.

“I'll see you around, Annie.”

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

She hung up her phone and leaned back against the sofa cushions. Would he see her around? She didn't see how, unless they ran into each other by accident.

The phone rang in her hand, startling her. Danielle.

“How are you feeling?” Danielle asked.

“Better, but I may not make it in tomorrow.”

“That works, because you're not allowed to come in tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Annie felt a swell of relief. She hated missing work, so permission to recover at home was gold.

“We can't risk you throwing up on anyone's shoes,” Danielle added on an amused note.

Annie pressed her hand to her aching head. “You heard?” Which was a dumb question. Of course she'd heard.

“Granny's disappointed that she missed witnessing the incident.”

“Don't make me laugh. It makes my head ache.”

“I'll see you on Tuesday if you're better.
If
you're better,” she repeated.

“I'll be better,” Annie promised.

* * *

D
ANIELLE
'
S
HUSBAND
, C
URTIS
,
drove to Annie's house on Monday morning and picked up the girls for school. Annie hated being a burden on anyone, but she was also extremely grateful to have two such good friends.

“More good practice,” she said as the girls raced to Curtis's car.

“Danielle felt the baby move,” Curtis said excitedly. “And on a different note, Danielle says that you are to stay off your feet and not use this time to catch up on household chores.”

“As if,” Annie murmured. Although, she had thought it would be a good day for laundry.

“I'm supposed to get a promise,” Curtis said.

“Promise. And thank you.”

Annie was very glad she'd made the promise. The laundry was stacked up, but she felt weak and because of the promise, didn't push things. She slept. And slept. And slept. The sound of the back door opening finally woke her, but by the time she got into the kitchen, the girls were already taking off their coats and dumping their school papers on the table.

When Katie saw her, she went to the door and yelled out, “She's awake!”

Annie went to the window in time to see Curtis raise a hand to Katie and then roll up his car window and put the car in motion.

“He didn't want to bother you, but wanted to know if you were better,” Kristen explained.

“That was nice of him. Did you have a good day?”

The twins started chattering about their day as Annie headed back to the sofa, making appropriate remarks as they went. She felt better, but was still a touch light-headed. She settled back into her nest and Kristen pulled the afghan up over her.

“You go to sleep, Mama. We'll have cereal for supper.”

Not a bad idea. “Put milk and bananas on it,” she said. “And eat some peanut butter crackers.” Because they needed protein. “Clean up after yourselves...”

“Do you want us to bring you some crackers?”

“Not yet.”

“Mr. D'laney's here,” Kristen called from the kitchen just as Annie had turned on the television.

She let her head fall back against the pillow. Really? What part of “I don't need you” had he not fully understood? And why did a small part of her jump for joy upon hearing that he was there?

Because she was simply too damned weak where he was concerned, that was why. Well, she was about to get tough. Tamping down a feeling of guilt because he had fed the girls the night before, she got to her feet and started to the kitchen, but she stopped just outside the door when she heard Trace say, “You don't need to bother your mom. I made extra stew today. It's heavy, so let's just put it on the stove, okay?”

“Does it need cooked some more?” Kristen asked hopefully.

“No. Uh...don't cook it. Don't turn on any burners. Do you understand?
No
burners.”

“Are you riding bulls now?” Katie asked as if he hadn't said a word about burners.

“Mom said that you're too hurt to ride bulls,” Kristen added.

“I'll ride bulls really soon,” he said. “Did you understand about the burners?”

“Then you gotta leave, right?” Annie closed her eyes, wondering how they knew that.

“That's right.”

“My mom is going to miss you.” Annie's eyes shot open and the next thing she knew she was stumbling into the kitchen, pushing her tangled hair back from her forehead.

“Hi,” she said as she came to a stop next to the table, taking note first of the Dutch oven sitting on her stove and then the man who'd brought it.

“Hi,” Trace echoed, running his gaze over her as if making certain she was all there. Annie could only imagine how she looked, with her hair all wild, wearing her favorite oversize red flannel pajamas. “I didn't want to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“And you made us stew.”

He moved a couple of steps closer to her. “I like to cook, Annie.” He tilted his head at her girls. “Rumor has it that these guys—girls—like to eat, and you're clearly under the weather.”

“There's no turnips in the stew, right, Trace?” Katie asked.

“No turnips, no mustard,” he said, holding Annie's gaze.

Her mouth twitched. “I think you know exactly what my thoughts are right now.”

“I have a good idea,” he said lowly. “But rest assured, I'm not pushing my way into your...” His voice trailed off as he suddenly realized that the girls were following the conversation closely, their faces turning back and forth between the two of them as they spoke.
“L-I-F-E.”
He finished by spelling the word.

“Lll...iiii...” Katie started sounding out the letters.

“Fuh,” Kristen finished triumphantly. “Life!”

Trace's eyes widened in surprise and Annie suddenly felt like laughing. “Yes, sweetie. Life. Very good.”

“We had that word on my last spelling test!” Kristen said smugly.

“Mrs. Lawrence will give us that word
this
week,” Katie assured her sister. “And we've had words that
your
class hasn't had yet.”

“Which ones?” Kristen demanded.

“Why don't you girls go sort the scarves?” Annie asked.

Two pairs of green eyes swung her way. “But you said we had to wait to touch them.”

“You can touch them now. They're in the box next to my bed.”

The girls raced out of the room, leaving Annie and Trace very much alone. Almost too alone. And Trace had a decided advantage, being fully clothed with his hair combed. In the makeup department they were dead even. Neither of them wore any.

“Bright girls,” Trace muttered.

“What can I say?” Annie murmured back.

His eyes narrowed a little, the dark lashes making the green parts of his hazel eyes appear even greener. “Annie...I'm kind of wondering where we are here.”

“What do you mean?”

He gestured at a chair. “You want to sit down?”

“Before I fall down, you mean?”

“You do look a little wobbly.”

Annie sat. Truth be told, she felt wobbly.

“What I meant was, what did we decide on that first date?”

“The only date.”

“That's the one.”

Annie drew in a breath and resisted the impulse to lay her head down on the table, close her eyes. Disappear. She wasn't 100 percent and maybe this wasn't the best time to be discussing this matter. Maybe Trace was aware of that and taking advantage of her weakness.

For what end?

She couldn't think of one.

She shrugged and focused on the cheerful cherry motif placemat in front of her. “We agreed that you're a traveling guy and that you're not used to kids and that I'm not a traveler and my kids are my life.” Silence followed her words. She raised her gaze from the cherries and found him studying her with an unreadable expression. “Right?” she asked, feeling oddly uncertain.

“Yeah. That sums it up. But we didn't decide that we disliked each other or anything.”

“No. We did not.”

“Then why act that way?”

“I'm not acting that way. I just don't see any good coming out of us hanging out together.”

“And what kind of bad can you see coming out of it, Annie?”

“The girls will get attached.”

“They just told me very matter-of-factly, and without one trace of regret, that they know I'm leaving.” He hooked a thumb in his belt. “And that you'd miss me.”

Meaning she was the one who was getting attached. Annie's chin tilted up, but she found she had nothing to say. “I will miss you,” she finally said. “But
I
can't afford to get attached to you.”

“So we won't see each other anymore?”

“That was the plan, but you keep bringing food,” she muttered.

He took the chair opposite hers and, after checking quickly to make certain no small interested faces were in view, reached out to take her hand in his.

“I'm contagious,” she murmured, but she allowed him to curl his fingers around hers.

“I know,” he said in a way that made it obvious that he wasn't talking germs and disease. “Annie—”

“What I'm afraid of,” she blurted, cutting him off, “is not being able to resist temptation.” She met his gaze, suddenly feeling a whole lot braver now that the truth was out. “Because you're tempting.”

His eyebrows rose, but he didn't seem displeased by her admission. “So are you.”

“Can you see where that might lead to trouble?”

“I can,” he said slowly. “But I think we can head it off.”

Annie frowned at him. “What are you asking for, Trace?” The sounds of laughter drifted into the kitchen from the direction of Annie's bedroom and she was glad that the girls were occupied with the scarves. Although they could flutter in at any moment, so she wanted to settle as much of this unsettling business as possible before that happened.