Cowboy Daddy (6 page)

He smiled up at her. “That's okay. Uncle Kip always says he holds tight because he never wants to let us go. That makes me feel good.”

Nicole's heart faltered at his words. Of course the boys would be attached to Kip Cosgrove and he to them. This was the only life the boys had known.

But they weren't Cosgroves, she reminded herself. They were Williamses, in spite of what Kip may claim.

Yet as she followed Justin into the dusky coolness of the barn, she felt her own misgivings come to the fore. Her own memories of being moved from home to home.

But she never returned to her biological home, like these boys were going to. She could never go back to where the people she lived with were related to her by blood, but these boys could. She would give them the true family she'd never had and in doing so, maybe, just maybe—

Her thoughts were cut off by the ringing of her phone.

It was her father.

“Hey,” she whispered, following Tristan into the dusty pen. The floor was strewn with straw and Justin was crouched in the corner, his behind stuck in the air as he reached under a pile of lumber.

“Can you talk?”

“Yes. I'm with the boys.”

“I want to talk to them. Now.”

Nicole hesitated. This was the first time she'd been alone with the boys since she'd met them. She hadn't had an opportunity to let them know that not only did they have another aunt, they also had a grandfather. She highly doubted Kip Cosgrove let them know either.

“I haven't explained everything to them yet—”

“You're telling me they don't know about me?”

Her father's gruff voice created a storm of guilt in Nicole. “I haven't found the right time to tell them,” she whispered.

Justin wriggled backwards then turned around with a triumphant grin. He held up a squirming, mewling puppy. The little creature was a bundle of brown and black fur with a shiny button nose.

“I got one,” he squealed. Nicole knelt down, still holding
the phone as Justin brought the puppy over to her. “You want to hold it?” he asked.

“That's one of them, isn't it?” her father asked. He broke into a fit of coughing, a sure sign to Nicole that he was upset. “I need to talk to them. Please, let me talk to them.”

It was the please that was her undoing. She couldn't remember her father saying those words more than a dozen times in her life.

“Just give me a few seconds,” she whispered to her father. “I need to explain a few things.” She smiled at Justin and held out her hand. “Yes, I'd love to hold it,” she said. “Why don't you hold my phone for me and I'll take the puppy?”

Justin managed to release his grip on the puppy and take the phone. Nicole gathered the warm, silky bundle in her arms, her heart melting at the sight of its chocolate-brown eyes staring soulfully up at her. She crouched down in the straw covering the floor of the pen, preferring not to think what might be living in it.

“He likes you,” Tristan said as she settled down.

“Who are you talking to?” Justin asked, looking at her phone.

“Why don't you come and sit by me,” she said, keeping her voice low and quiet. “I have something to tell you.”

Curious, Justin knelt down in front of her, still holding the phone, Tristan beside her. She stroked the puppy and looked from one pair of trusting eyes to the other. “You know that you had a mommy, right?”

“We don't know where our mommy is,” Justin said. “She ranned away.”

Nicole pressed back an angry reply. Their lack of knowledge wasn't their fault. “Your mommy didn't run away,” she said. “Your mommy loved you both very much, and
your mommy had a father who loved her very much too. That father is your grandmother.”

“Our grandpa is dead,” Justin said. “Uncle Kip told us.”

“Now you know that you have another grandfather,” Nicole said. “And he's alive and he lives in Toronto.”

“You mean like Paul and Liam and Kirsten and Leah and Emily and Jenna from Auntie Doreen? They have a grandpa,” Tristan squealed. “Uncle Ron's daddy.”

“That's right.”

“Where is our other grandfather?” Justin asked.

“I was talking to him on the phone you're holding,” Nicole said, tilting her head toward the phone Justin clutched. “You can talk to him if you want.”

Justin frowned. “Uncle Kip lets me pretend to talk on his phone,” he said.

“You don't have to pretend,” Nicole said gently. “Now I'll hit a button and put it on speakerphone so we can all hear all of us talk.” She tapped her phone, then held it out. “Justin, say hello to your grandfather.”

Justin lifted his shoulders, suddenly self-conscious. “Are you my grandpa? This is Justin.”

“Yes, I am. How are you?”

Justin frowned, then said, “I'm fine. How are you?”

She heard a faint cough, then her father replied that he was fine.

Nicole let Justin chatter on about the puppies and hauling hay. Her father made a few responses, but he didn't have to say much around Justin.

“Father, this is Tristan. He wants to say hi,” Nicole said, taking the phone away from Justin.

Tristan was more reserved, but soon he was giving out information as freely as his brother.

The phone distorted her father's voice but it wasn't hard
to hear the joy in it. Joy she hadn't heard in her father's voice since Tricia left home.

“Hey there, did you guys find the puppies?”

Nicole jumped, startling the puppy, then she craned her neck backwards to see Kip standing in the doorway.

What was he doing? Checking up on her?

“What are you doing with Ms. Williams's phone?” Kip asked, frowning at Tristan.

Tristan looked up, his smile dropping away as soon as he saw his Uncle Kip.

“We're talking to our grandpa,” Justin announced. “He said we are going to stay with him. In Toronto. Can we go, Uncle Kip? Can we?”

Nicole's heart dropped when she saw the thunderous expression cross Kip's face.

“I think you should give the phone back to Ms. Williams, then go back to the house.”

“I want to talk to my other grandfather some more,” Justin whined.

“Tristan, please give the phone back to Ms. Williams and go with Justin to the house.”

Nicole glanced at the little boy who was obviously listening to something her father was saying. Tristan looked from Kip to Nicole, confusion on his features.

“Don't go,” she heard her father say. “Don't listen to him.”

She had to put poor Tristan out of his misery.

“I'll take the phone, sweetie,” she said holding her hand out.

“No. Nicole. I need to talk to them.”

“Sorry, Father,” she said quietly. She turned the phone off speaker, then walked away from Kip. “The boys have to go.”

“Those boys shouldn't be there,” her father said. “They should be here with me.”

“I know, but not everything is settled yet.”

Her father started coughing again, then got his breath. “I'm phoning that lawyer first thing Monday morning. We shouldn't have to wait for these DNA tests. We know Tricia was their mother.”

Nicole glanced over her shoulder at Kip standing in the doorway of the barn watching the boys walk to the house. Obviously he was sticking around to talk to her. “We have to move slowly on this,” she said to her father.

“Those boys have to come back to their home,” he said quietly. “You of all people know why Tricia's boys need to come back.”

As always, his words held a subtext of obligation that was never spoken directly but always hinted at. “Of course I do,” she replied. “I have to go.” As she said goodbye, she felt a moment of sympathy for her father, all alone back home.

She couldn't help comparing his lonely situation to Mary Cosgrove's. Mary had one daughter with six grandchildren and she had another daughter and son and two more grandchildren under her roof.

The boys weren't Cosgroves. It was as if she had to drum that information into her mind. If she didn't, then she would start to feel sorry for Mary.

And for Kip.

She pocketed her phone and turned to face Kip.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded.

Any sympathy she might have felt for the man was brushed away in the icy blast of his question.

“If you're thinking I deliberately brought the boys out here so they could talk to my father on the phone, you're mistaken. He just happened to call while I was out here.”

“And you just happened to let the boys talk to him.”

“May I remind you that he's their grandfather?”

“That hasn't been proven beyond a doubt.”

“You were willing to let me visit them based on this doubt.”

Kip's eyes narrowed and she knew she had gone too far. “Only because my lawyer told me I should. No other reason.”

Nicole knew Kip had not let her willingly onto the farm. She was here on suffrage only. “Regardless of how you see the situation, the man I just spoke to is Tricia's father—”

“And he was never part of the agreement.” Kip took a step closer and it was all Nicole could do to keep her cool. “You're not to let the boys talk to your father again without talking to me about it,” he warned, his voice lowering to a growl. “Those poor kids lost their father six months ago, and they don't need to have any more confusion in their lives.”

Nicole struggled to hold his steely gaze. “Finding out that they have a maternal grandfather can hardly be confusing to any child. In fact, many people would see it as a blessing.”

That last comment came out before she could stop it, as did the tiny hitch in her voice. She hoped he would put it down to her anger rather than the fact that she had found herself jealous of these boys. Jealous of Kip.

He had family that had no strings attached. A mother who doted on him and a sister who, in spite of her rebellious ways, still cared for him. He didn't have to try to earn his mother's love, try to atone for what he did.

Kip's mouth settled into a grim line and she felt as if she scored the tiniest point.

“That may be, but at the same time I'm their uncle and guardian and responsible for their well-being. Anything
you do with them gets run by me. The boys are my first priority, not you, or your father.”

Nicole bit back a retort, realizing that to some degree he was right. Much as it bothered her, she couldn't argue with him.

Kip shoved his hand through his hair and released a heavy sigh. “I've got too much happening right now. I can't give the boys the explanations they will need if you start complicating their lives.”

Nicole held his gaze and for a moment in spite of her anger with him, sympathy stirred in her soul. Sympathy and something more profound. Respect, even. Regardless of whatever claim Nicole may have, the reality was that this man was putting as a first priority the welfare of two little boys that weren't his children. Even though his guardianship put them at odds, at the same time she respected what he was doing.

She thought of how easily her biological father seemed to give her up. How happy her aunt had been when Social Services came to take her away for good. In spite of her aunt's antagonism, Nicole had wished that she could stay, but her aunt wanted her gone.

Those boys don't know how good they had it. In fact, Nicole was jealous that they had this strong, tough man on their side. A man who had made sacrifices for his nephews. A man who was willing to fight for them.

What would have happened in her earlier life if she'd had the same kind of advocate? If she'd had someone who was willing to go to the mat for her welfare? What if she'd had someone like Kip on her side?

“I'd like you to leave now,” Kip said quietly.

Nicole opened her mouth to protest.

“It's past five,” Kip said.

“Of course,” was all she said. “I'll be back tomorrow then.”

Kip just nodded.

Nicole got up and walked past him, then got into her car. As she drove off, she could see him in her rearview mirror watching her.

He could watch and glower all he wanted. She wasn't letting him intimidate her.

She had rights and she was going to exercise them regardless of what he thought of her.

“I'
m not doing the dishes again.” Isabelle glared at Kip, her hands on her hips. “Sunday is a day of rest. At least that's what I thought the minister said.”

As Kip tried to match her glare for glare he also tried not to feel guilty about all the work he hoped to get done today.

“I'm not your slave,” she muttered.

He ignored that. “Just make sure the dishes get done,” he growled. Then he turned to his mother. “And you make sure she does it and don't you even think about doing it yourself.”

Mary gave him a quick nod, which didn't give Kip much confidence.

Didn't any of the women in his life listen to him? He spun around just as he heard a knock on the door.

What was Nicole doing here already?

“Tristan. Justin,” he called out. “Finish up. Ms. Williams is here.” He sent the boys upstairs to change out of their Sunday clothes about an hour ago and they still weren't down.

“It's not fair, you know,” Isabelle whined, leaning back against the counter.

Nicole stepped into the kitchen. “Um…I think you have a problem,” she said. “There are some cows roaming around the yard,” she continued. “I'm guessing they're not supposed to be there.”

“What?” Kip frowned, then as her words registered, he pushed past her and stepped outside, then groaned in disbelief.

Over two dozen cows and calves were milling about out of the fence.

There went the afternoon, Kip thought, his heart dropping into his gut. His mind flipped through all the scenarios why the animals would be loose. Open gate. Broken fence.

Not that it mattered. For now he had to get them away from the hay bales, and even more important, away from the granary filled with oats.

“What can I do?” Nicole asked.

Was she kidding? Kip spared her a quick glance then strode down the steps. “Just stay out of the way.”

Not that he had a master plan that she could help him implement. He was pretty much winging it.

As he got closer to the moving herd he slowed his steps, planning, thinking. The gate to the pasture wasn't open, so that left one thing. Broken fences.

He shifted his hat back on his head as he glanced around the yard, trying to figure out what to do with the herd. Where to put them.

They started moving and he hurried his steps, trying to get ahead of them without spooking them.

Of course, one cow let out a bawl, spun around and they all decided to change their focus and head down the driveway.

“No, you stupid creatures,” he yelled, moving even more quickly.

Please, Lord, don't let them head down the driveway. Because once they did, they would be on the run and it would take hours and hours to get them back again.

He changed direction and ran, knowing he didn't stand a chance of getting them turned around. Not on foot and not without his horse, but he had to try.

Sweat poured down his back, anger clenched his gut and then, suddenly he heard, “Hey. Get back there.”

He looked up and there were Nicole and Isabelle standing by the driveway waving dishtowels. Were they kidding? Dishtowels against two dozen 1,200-pound cows on the loose?

Miraculously the cows stopped, dust slowly settling around them. Kip caught his breath, trying to assess. Then a calf broke free from the herd but again, to his surprise Nicole got the animal turned around.

“Let's get them into the corrals,” he called out. “Isabelle, can you get to the gate?”

“No,” she said, glaring at him.

“This is not the time, missy,” he called back.

Thankfully, Nicole moved over to the fence and climbed over it, leaving Isabelle standing guard. Even from here Kip could see the fear on Nicole's face, but surprisingly she kept moving.

She opened the gate to the pasture, then came back over the fence, staying clear of the cows.

“Start moving slowly toward them,” Kip called out. “Don't get right in front of them. Work at them from the side.”

Nicole nodded and started walking at an angle toward the herd. It was probably a good thing she was afraid. She moved slowly and took her time.

“Stop there, Nicole,” Kip yelled.

Kip moved toward the herd just enough to get them
going. Then, thankfully, the cows in the lead turned around. The ones behind them followed their example, and soon the herd was turned around and walking back to the pasture.

Please, please, he prayed as he moved slowly behind them, keeping them moving. If they turned around now, they would scatter and it could easily take all day to get them herded up again.

The cows at the head of the herd sped up the pace. It was going to be all right, Kip thought.

Suddenly one of the cows in the middle turned her head and decided to make a break for it.

Right toward Nicole.

She stood, frozen, as another cow followed the one trying to get away. This was it. They were hooped.

Then Nicole waved her arms and yelled and to Kip's surprise the cow stopped and rejoined the herd now heading into the corral.

“Isabelle, get over the fence and make sure they don't get into the pasture,” Kip called out.

“Are you kidding?” Isabelle said. “I'm going back to the house.”

“Oh, stop being such a selfish stinker and just do what your brother said,” Nicole shouted back at her.

Kip didn't know who was more surprised at Nicole's outburst, him or his sister.

At any rate, Isabelle scrambled over the fence and headed off the cows that were eyeing the wide-open spaces of the pasture. Then, thankfully, the cows were all in the corral and Kip closed the metal gate, locking them in.

“So is that all of them?” Nicole's voice sounded a bit shaky as she joined them.

“Those were only a small part of the whole herd. Now I have to saddle up and find out where they got out and then make sure that the rest of the cows are where they're
supposed to be.” He dragged his hand over his face, thinking.

“I know this might sound dumb, but is there anything I can do?”

Kip glanced down at her. Some wisps of hair had pulled loose from her ponytail and were curling around her face. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a smear of dust on her forehead. She looked a bit scared yet, but she also looked kinda cute.

“Not really, but thanks for all your help. I couldn't have done it without you.”

“And Isabelle,” Nicole said wryly.

“Thanks for bawling her out. Nice to know I'm not the only one doing it.”

Nicole laughed at that. “I'm real good at bawling out little sisters. I did it all the time with Tricia.” She stopped there as an expression of deep sorrow slid over her face.

Kip wondered what she meant by her comment. What created that look of desolate sadness?

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Puzzlement replaced the sadness. “Why do you ask?”

He frowned. “You looked so sad. I'm thinking you're remembering your sister. I guess I know what it feels like.”

She looked up at him then. Their gazes locked and held as awareness arced between them.

Without thinking of the implications he laid his hand on her shoulder, as if to cement the connection.

She looked away, but didn't move.

A yearning slipped through him. A yearning for things to be different between them. Involuntarily, his hand tightened.

“Nicole—”

“Uncle Kip, Uncle Kip. Isabelle said the cows got out…
Did you get them in?…Can we help…Do you have to ride the horses?”

The boys burst into the moment with a barrage of questions and Nicole stepped away. As Kip lowered his hand, he experienced a surprising sense of loss. Then he gave his head a shake.

What was he thinking? This woman was simply another problem in his complicated life.

Kip dragged his attention back to his nephews. “Yeah. I'll be saddling up and heading out.”

“Can we ride with you?” Justin asked.

Kip shot him a warning glance. The little guy knew better.

“Why don't we go and check out the puppies,” Nicole said, taking the boys by their hands. “Have they gotten any bigger?”

“Silly, you just saw them yesterday,” Justin said.

“I know, but puppies grow very fast and change quickly,” she replied. “I would hate to think that we missed out on something fun that they didn't do yesterday.”

Kip was sure her comment was off the cuff, but it reminded him of all the changes he'd experienced with the boys. All the changes she and her father had missed.

You can't start going there, he reminded himself. You have a lawyer working to make sure the boys stay here. She has a lawyer to make sure the boys go with her.

Very straightforward. Cut-and-dried.

Yet just before she left she shot a glance over her shoulder, her hair brushing her cheek. Then she gave him a quick smile and things got confusing again. Thankfully he was going out on his horse. Things always got clearer for him when he was in the saddle.

He headed out to the tack shed, and as he opened the
door the scent of leather and neat's foot oil washed over him. He halted as recollections of his brother surfaced from the corner of his mind where he thought he'd buried them.

He and Scott racing each other through pastures. He and Scott training the horses, racing the chucks, dust roiling out behind them, the horses' hooves pounding, the adrenaline flowing.

He grabbed the door frame, steadying himself against the onslaught of memories.

Dear Lord, help me get through this, he prayed, bowing his head as pain mingled with the memories. He missed his brother. He missed their time together, but mixed with the sorrow was the sad reality that he missed the freedom he'd had before his brother died.

The insidious thought crept into his mind. How much easier and freer his life would be if he didn't have the boys. How much simpler. The obligations of their future hung on his shoulders as well. Providing for them, taking care of their future.

Kip reached for his saddle and jerked it off the stand, shaking his head as if dislodging the thought. They were his brother's boys, his mother's grandchildren. They were not a burden.

A few minutes later he had saddled his horse, Duke, and was riding out, leaving the ranch house and all the tangle of family obligations behind for a while.

Again he sent up a prayer for clarity of thought, and as he rode, as the sun warmed his back and the wind cooled his face, peace settled into his soul.

This was how he used to spend his Sundays, just riding around or working with the horses.

Now work piled on top of work, and quiet time for
himself was as rare as a date, something else he hadn't had in months. He let his thoughts dwell for a moment on his horses. He should work with them. For their sake, if not his.

But when?

He looked around him, at the hills surrounding the ranch. A group of cows lay on one hill, beyond them another bunch. Thankfully, they hadn't decided to follow the wayward cows that had managed to get out.

Though he still had the same amount of work as he'd had before, riding out on his horse loosened the tension gripping his neck. Checking fences was one of his favorite jobs. Just him and his horse and the quiet. Oh, how he missed the quiet.

The irony was, he wouldn't have been able to do this if it wasn't for Nicole being with the boys and watching over his mother. Much as he hated to admit it, since she'd started visiting, some of his responsibilities had eased off his shoulders.

At the same time, Nicole presented a whole nest of problems that complicated his life. He thought again of that moment they'd shared a moment ago.

He wished he could shake it off. Wished he could get her out of his mind.

“I'm just a lonely old cowboy,” he said to Duke as he dismounted and stapled up another loose wire. “I've got responsibilities out the wazoo, and once this thing is settled with the boys, my life can go back to normal crazy instead of super crazy.”

Duke whickered, tossing his head as if sympathizing with him.

Kip checked the wire and got on the horse again. Duke started walking, the sound of his muffled footfalls creating a soothing rhythm.

Except he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that things would not be settled with the boys. Not without a fight.

 

“C'mon, Auntie Nicole. Hurry up.” Tristan's disembodied voice came from somewhere ahead of her on the narrow trail through the trees.

Nicole slowed down and stepped over an exposed rock on the trail, then pushed past a clump of spruce trees.

“Slow down,” she puffed, pushing aside a spruce branch that threatened to blind her. “I can't go as fast as you.” Not for the first time was she thankful she had bought some running shoes. Keeping up with the boys would have been impossible in the leather boots that she, at one time, had considered casual wear.

When she'd arrived this afternoon the boys had grabbed her and insisted she come and see something important. They wouldn't tell her what, only that she had to come right now.

She caught a glimpse of Tristan's striped T-shirt as she clambered over a fallen tree, then clambered over another one.

“Are you coming?” she heard Justin call out.

“Yes, I'm coming.” She drew in a ragged breath, then, finally, she came to a small clearing. She ducked to get under a tree and as she straightened, looked around.

She couldn't see the boys. “Where are you guys?”

She heard giggling above her and looked up.

Two grinning faces stared down at her from a platform anchored between two aspen trees.

“What is this?” she asked, smiling back at the boys.

“It's Uncle Kip and our dad's Robin Hood tree house.” They stood up and then disappeared again, only to reappear higher up on another platform. “Come up and see.”

“Is it safe?” she asked. If Kip and his brother had been the architects of this tree house, then it had be at least twenty years old.