The Rancher's Lullaby (Glades County Cowboys) Page 18

  “Hard to believe he’s the future of the herd.” Josh leaned on his pommel, staring after the youngster, who wasted no time in his rush to his mama’s side.

  “Isn’t it, though.” More often than not, however, loud-mouthed crybabies like the calf found their centers and grew into the alpha bulls of tomorrow. Garrett swabbed the tag applicator with alcohol. He checked his watch. “That’s it for today. Let’s head on in for supper.”

  For a solid week, he’d worked the men later than usual. Tonight they’d have to step lively in order to feed and water the horses before the dinner bell rang. But that’s the way he’d planned it, wasn’t it? Long days in the saddle. Keeping a tight grip on his tongue throughout dinner lest anyone accuse him of badgering the men. Watching over LJ and settling the little guy down for the night. Then tackling the accounting books and logging information on every head of cattle the Circle P owned until his eyes blurred and the numbers swam across the pages. Only then would he collapse onto his bed and into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

  Except his nights weren’t exactly the blank slate he’d hoped for. Not when images of a long, lean woman haunted them. Much as he ordered her to go, Lisa simply refused to fade from his dreams. His thoughts, either, for that matter. Tossing a saddle on Gold brought back memories of taking the slender blonde on her first horseback ride, the trust she’d placed in him to keep her safe. He couldn’t pick up his guitar without thinking of how much he’d learned from her. Whenever he cradled LJ to his chest, he had her to thank for helping him form a deeper bond with his son.

  Only LJ had the power to distract him from his misery, but not even the tiny tyke could scrub Lisa from his thoughts entirely. This week, while Garrett had waited with open arms, the boy had taken his first tentative steps. Garrett had actually glanced over his shoulder, fully expecting Lisa to be there, cheering for his son. When she wasn’t, the pain of losing her had crushed him all over again.

  At the barn, he saw to Gold’s needs while the men went about their chores. Once he’d washed up for supper, he took his meal outside to the picnic table, where he could be alone to think. The first stars appeared in the night sky while he toyed with food that had lost its flavor. Going through the motions was no way to live. He’d learned that much after Arlene died. Yet here he was, doing the same thing all over again. But what choice did he have? He could either block out the pain of not having Lisa in his life, or have a heart attack every time he thought about her pregnancy. He cupped his face in his hands. Neither choice was any good.

  That night, after settling LJ into his crib, he grabbed the guitar he’d propped in the corner of the boy’s room. Hoping to get lost in the music for a while, he finger-picked the familiar notes of his lullaby. All too soon, though, LJ’s even breaths filled the quiet. Afraid he’d wake the boy, Garrett strummed a final chord. With a sigh, he stood. Resigned to another night of staring at ledgers, he waited a minute for his nerves to settle before he quietly closed the door behind him.

  “That was the song you and Lisa wrote, wasn’t it?” His mom pushed away from the wall as Garrett reached the top of the stairs. “Haven’t seen her around here for the better part of a week. You and she have a fight?”

  Lisa. At the name he’d worked so hard to keep from saying, Garrett squared his shoulders. He supposed the time had come to let everyone know it had ended between them. “We decided to call things off.”

  Instead of lending him a sympathetic shoulder, Doris propped her hands on ample hips. “Because she’s pregnant?”

  Garrett gulped. “How’d you— Who told you?”

  “It doesn’t take a medical degree to know when a woman’s gotten herself in a family way.” She eyed him, her expression wary. “There’s no chance it could be yours, is there?”

  Garrett’s heart, what was left of it, sank. He studied the floorboards. “It’s mine.” There hadn’t been anyone else. Of that he was certain.

  Doris sucked in a breath so sharp it whistled over her teeth. “That certainly puts a different spin on things.”

  Garrett held up a hand. “Don’t start, Mom. I can’t go through all that again. I can’t.”

  “And yet—” his mother paused “—there’s a baby on the way. Your baby. My grandchild.”

  His mom’s voice shook, and he winced. Doris had always had a knack for hacking away the thick outer layers of a palm to reach the tender center. He should have known she’d cut straight to the heart of the problem. He struggled to explain how he felt. “Putting another woman’s life at risk—well, it’s the last thing I ever wanted. I’m not handling it very well.”

  “Oh, Garrett,” Doris whispered. She blotted her eyes, her round shoulders straightening. “I’m as sorry as I can be at what happened with Arlene. But women have babies all the time. There’s no reason to believe Lisa’ll have any problems with this pregnancy.”

  The firm hand on his arm steadied his thoughts. He nodded. “She said practically the same thing. My head knows you’re both right. My heart, though, it’s having some trouble getting the message.”

  “Seems to me, son, that this baby is coming whether you’re ready for it or not. Do you love Lisa?”

  Did he? If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be so afraid of losing her, would he? “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “She feels the same way about you?”

  “Yeah.” Garrett caught himself in mid-nod. “At least, she did. Until I walked away from her the last night of the roundup. Now, I don’t know for sure. I think...I think I really screwed things up between us.” Trying to keep his emotions under wraps, he swallowed.

  “Sounds like you need to figure out where you stand with her. And you’d better do it quick. Lisa’s a good person. But she won’t wait forever.”

  “You’re right. I know you’re right.” He leaned down for a hug. “Thanks, Mom. Guess I have some thinking to do,” he said.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, he grabbed his Stetson from the rack and headed for the barn. Mucking stalls always helped him clear his head. Even though the horses were bedded down for the night, he was pretty sure they wouldn’t object to his company.

  By daylight, his eyes felt grainy and thick. Every muscle in his body cried out for relief. But every stall in the Circle P’s barn had been thoroughly cleaned. The horses had been fed and watered for the day, and he grinned, imagining the surprised looks on the ranch hands’ faces when they showed up, only to find someone had beaten them to the daily chores.

  Best of all, he had the beginnings of a plan. Setting the pitchfork into its place on the rack, Garrett headed for the house, coffee and a shower. A busy day lay ahead. By the end of it, he hoped to win the heart of the woman he loved.

  * * *

  LISA WASN’T SURE how she’d survived the week following the break-up. With a heavy heart, she’d caught the first ride to the ranch house on Sunday morning. She’d checked her phone for messages the minute she’d walked into her apartment. When the only voice mail had come from a student who wanted to cancel a music lesson on Tuesday, she’d thrust her fingers through her hair in frustration. Certain Garrett would call, she’d charged her cell phone, tested the doorbell hourly to make sure it still worked, tripped down the stairs to see if he had left a note, a package, flowers on the steps. He hadn’t and, by late afternoon, she had plaited and replaited her braid so many times her fingers had gone numb. Thinking of the new life she carried, she’d kept up a brave front. But she couldn’t hide from the truth at night and, when she’d woken Monday morning, tears had dried on her pillow. When another day had passed and the rancher’s tall frame hadn’t filled her doorway, when her phone hadn’t rung, she’d forced herself to face facts.

  He couldn’t deal with the pregnancy. He’d fallen out of love with her. All her dreams of the family they’d make—Garrett and LJ, her and the new baby—they were all gone.

  Her heart had broken then, and her tears had fallen. But by Wednesday, she’d cried herself dry. That afternoon, after giving herself a stern
talking to, she’d wiped her eyes and stashed the tissue box under the counter. Clearly the time had come to make plans for a future that didn’t include the man she’d loved and lost.

  For a while she’d considered selling Pickin’ Strings, cutting her ties and leaving town. One glance at the store she’d invested so much of herself in had stopped her. A hard look at the books had confirmed that her efforts were paying off. Between the uptick in internet orders and the gig on the Circle P, any danger of losing her shirt on the business had passed.

  Deciding to stay put, she’d spent Thursday bracing for the next time she bumped into Garrett. Whenever or wherever it happened, she had to be ready. Because she would see the rancher again. Of that there was no doubt. The Circle P might be thirty miles outside of Okeechobee, but she couldn’t expect Garrett to drive into Fort Pierce whenever he needed a gallon of milk or LJ ran out of diapers. Not when that town was more than two hours away.

  By Friday, she’d come up with a plan for raising her child, alone. For living her life, alone. For carrying on, alone. By working the store on her own during the busy winter, she’d save enough to hire a salesperson next spring when she’d need to be home...with the baby. She’d turn the break room into a nursery when she was ready to come back to work.

  She tapped one finger against her chin. Her plan wasn’t perfect. Perfection was a symphony called family. Without Garrett, his mom, his brothers and all the relatives in his warm, loving, extended family, she was left with a simple, two-part harmony. Just her and her child. But for the baby’s sake, she refused to wallow in grief for what might have been.

  So on Saturday, determined to put her plan in action, she rose early, ate a good breakfast at The Clock Restaurant and opened the store right on time. Tourist season was just around the corner. Now more than ever, she wanted to be ready for it. In the lull between customers, she cleared space for new merchandise. Her arms full of items she planned to discount, she tossed out a cheery “Be right with you” when the bell over the door jingled after lunch. She settled a box onto the crowded table in the break room. Dusting her hands, she turned to aim a bright smile at her latest visitor.

  A smile that faltered the least little bit when she caught sight of Garrett striding down the aisle between the racks of sheet music and a display of guitar straps. All broad shoulders and long legs, he wore his Sunday Stetson and a pair of Wranglers that she’d bet her last nickel had never seen the inside of a cow pen.

  Despite all her preparations, her heart lurched. She couldn’t think of one good reason for him to stop by Pickin’ Strings on a Saturday afternoon. Yet here he was. The man of her dreams in the flesh. One week, one solid week after he’d abandoned her. She allowed herself a single dismayed sigh before she clamped her trembling lips closed.

  “Hey,” he said simply. “I reckon we need to talk.”

  Talk.

  He hadn’t come to sweep her off her feet, whisk her away to a castle in the clouds or ride off into the sunset with her. He didn’t drop to one knee or beg for forgiveness. Instead, he wanted to talk. Breathtaking disappointment lanced through her, and she sucked in air.

  “What about?” She refused to cry and blinked back tears. There’d be time enough for those later.

  “I owe you an apology for the way I acted last time we saw each other.”

  “You think?” She folded her arms across her chest and waited.

  Without saying a word, he just stood there, looking impossibly handsome with his hat tipped back, one dark curl falling forward on his forehead. Steady as the tide and not at all like a man who’d spent the last week nursing a broken heart...the way she had. Her composure crumpled. Her voice shrilled.

  “I waited for you. You never showed. You left me to handle our last performance alone.” She supposed it had been good practice. After all, from here on out, she’d have to handle everything on her own.

  Garrett’s gaze dropped. He scuffed a booted foot against the floor. “I could say I got busy with stuff for the ranch...” He faced her, his blue eyes probing. “But that’d be a lie. I won’t lie to you, Lisa. I never have. Your news, your news knocked me flat.”

  “It did the same thing to me.” She cupped a hand over her midsection. In her mind’s eye she saw herself in six or seven months, her flat stomach swollen with child. Their child.

  The hard ridge of Garrett’s jawline softened. His trademark smile faded. “I behaved badly. I know. You’d be well within your rights if you never spoke to me again. But I hope you will. I brought a peace offering. Donuts and decaf.” Like a kid holding out a bouquet of hand-picked flowers, he lifted a tray.

  Her determination to remain strong and unyielding wavered as the scent of warm cinnamon floated through the air. Her traitorous stomach grumbled. Not ready to forgive him, not certain she ever would, she exhaled. As quickly as it had flared, the fight seeped out of her. “I’m always hungry these days,” she admitted. She peered inside the bag and snagged a donut. “So, where do we go from here?”

  He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, hadn’t stuck by her when she needed him most. But he had given her the one thing she wanted above everything else. So, even if they weren’t together, Garrett could be as involved—or as uninvolved—in their child’s life as he chose. She bolstered her defenses for a discussion of mundane things like visitation and child support. In a move that sent a squiggle of longing straight through her chest, Garrett ran a hand through his hair.

  “That depends.” He stared into the room behind her, a pained expression marring his handsome features. “Looks like you’re packing. You—you haven’t sold the store, have you?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at a table crowded with boxes. “Oh, that. To kick off the tourist season, the chamber of commerce is hosting a barbeque a week from next Saturday. There’ll be face painting and pony rides for the kids. I was just pulling some things together for a sidewalk sale. All the shops are having them.” She gave a half laugh. “I might have gotten carried away.”

  “I’ll say.” Careful not to touch her, he edged past. Reaching out, he ran a finger through a dozen packages of guitar strings. “So, you’re staying?”

  “Yes.” The truth was she’d fallen in love with small-town life, with neighbors who called early morning greetings to one another across the street, with Okeechobee. Down at The Clock Restaurant, Genna saved her a spot for breakfast each morning. The owner of the bakery sold her day-old cookies at half price. She’d grown accustomed to the heat, the humidity and the sunshine. Most of all, staying put meant giving her child something she’d never had—a sense of stability, of permanence.

  She gave Garrett a long look. Was that relief or disappointment in his blue eyes? A week ago, she’d been able to read all his moods. She’d loved their closeness and thought she always would. But now—now they danced around one another like complete strangers, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “How about you and LJ?” she asked, struggling to have a normal conversation in a situation that was anything but normal. “What’s next for you?”

  He stared over her left shoulder, toward the street. “Randy and Royce, they were always supposed to manage the Circle P.”

  He was leaving? In a way, it would make things easier. She was pretty sure her broken heart would heal quicker if she didn’t have to worry about running into him in the produce section every time she ducked into the Winn-Dixie. She only wished she didn’t feel so empty at the thought of never seeing him again. Despite his faults, Garrett was a good man, a good father. She blinked away a stray tear for all their child would miss if he wasn’t around. “Where will you go? Back to Georgia?”

  “What?” Garrett’s attention snapped to her. “No. I didn’t mean... I guess I jumped right into the middle instead of starting at the beginning the way someone once told me to.”

  She’d given him that particular piece of advice, and when he grinned, her breath stalled as she caught a fleeting glimpse of the old Garrett, the o
ne who loved her, the one she loved.

  “The twins are staying in Montana. Ty asked me to manage the Circle P for good. I agreed.”

  Lisa swallowed. She should have known he wouldn’t leave. Now that he’d come home, Garrett would never take LJ away from the rest of his family. But where did that leave them, their child?

  Garrett took a pad of sheet music from one of the boxes, leafed through it and put it down. “I am moving, though. Emma and Colt lived in one of the smaller houses on the Circle P till they bought their place over in Indiantown. It’s fixed up real nice. Me and LJ, we’re moving in there next week.”

  “Oh,” she managed. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t think of one good reason for Garrett to leave the comfort of the main house unless...unless he wanted to date again. Pain snaked through her chest, and she stilled. She’d never pictured him arm-in-arm with someone else. Never in a million years. Before she could stop herself, she saw some other woman taking LJ to the barber for his first haircut. Walking him to the bus on his first day of school. Cheering for him at his first rodeo. Some other woman, but not her.

  A wave of tears threatened. This time she wasn’t quite as fast at blinking them away. She beat a hasty retreat to the register, where she grabbed a tissue from the box under the counter.

  “Sorry.” She blotted and mopped and managed a weak smile. “Hormones, I guess. I should have expected you to start dating again.” Why, half the women in town were probably sliding casseroles and decadent desserts into their ovens already. The image of them all converging on the Circle P was too much, and Lisa blinked back another round of tears.

  Garrett stepped closer, closed the gap between them. “No. It’s not like that. It’ll never be like that.”

  She lowered her tissue. “It’s not?”

  “How could it be, when the only woman I love, the only woman I’ll ever love, is standing right in front of me?”