Cowboy Daddy (9 page)

“I think it means that the day was going to be warm,” Nicole said, letting him off the hook.

“And he was whistling, even though he had to get up early and work on the stupid welder,” Tristan added.

“You don't need to say that,” Kip said with a note of reprimand.

“That's what you called it.”

“I shouldn't have, okay?”

“Radioactive hearing,” Nicole murmured, shooting Kip a quick glance.

He shrugged. “I've got to learn to keep my big mouth shut.”

She suspected he was referring to his previous comment but wasn't sure she wanted to analyze that too much.

“Have you been to Stampede?” Justin asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“No. I've never been, and what do you think you're doing?”

“Justin, get back in your seat and buckle up,” Kip said at exactly the same time.

We sound like parents, Nicole thought, forcing herself to keep looking at her nephew.

Justin glanced from Nicole to Kip as if trying to figure this arrangement out.

“Justin—”

“Now—”

“Okay, okay. You both don't have to be so bossy.”

Nicole was about to reprimand him again, but held back in case Kip had the same idea. At least when it came to the boys' safety, they agreed.

“I'm bored,” Justin grumbled after he buckled up.

“Then let's play a driving game. We can play I Spy.”

“How do you play that?” Tristan asked.

Nicole explained the rules and soon they were guessing all kinds of things from the feather in the hatband of Uncle Kip's cowboy hat to the pattern stitched into their little cowboy boots to the color of Nicole's eyes.

“I think they're blue,” Tristan said, leaning forward as if to get a better look.

“Nuh-uh. Gray,” Justin announced.

“What color are they, Auntie Nicole?” Tristan asked.

“I don't know. One of my foster mothers said they were
the color of dishwater,” Nicole said with a light laugh. She didn't really want to talk about her eyes. Not with Kip sitting next to her, smiling and glancing at her from time to time as if trying to decide for himself on their color.

“What's a foster mother?” Justin asked.

Trust him not to miss the slightest slip of the tongue, Nicole thought.

“A foster mother is someone who takes care of children when they can't live at their own place,” Nicole said with a smile. “Now it's my turn. I spy with my little eye—”

“You said you had foster mothers,” Justin interrupted. “How many did you have?”

“Doesn't matter how many—”

“How could you have more than one? Didn't you have your own mother?”

“My mother died when I was very little,” Nicole said. “So I went to live with another family—”

“Didn't your dad take care of you?” Tristan asked.

“My father…was a busy man. He was gone a lot.”

“Did your dad miss you when he was gone?” Justin asked.

Nicole wasn't sure how to answer that question. She often wondered herself. Her father never seemed excessively eager to return to her, and when he did come it was usually a brief appearance, then he was gone again.

“I hope he did,” she said quietly.

“Where did you live when he was gone?” Justin asked.

“I lived with my auntie for a while.”

“Was she a foster mom?”

Nicole wished they would get off this topic already so she simply said yes.

“But you had lots of foster moms.”

They weren't going to quit. She sighed and knew she had to give them the entire rundown.

“I lived with my auntie for a while, and when my dad died and she couldn't take care of me anymore she put me in a foster home. When they couldn't take care of me anymore, they put me in another one. Then I got adopted by the Williams family. So that's my story. Now why don't you tell me yours?” she said. Though she knew it well, she wanted to stop talking about her past. It was over and done with, thanks to Sam and Norah Williams.

Besides, she didn't like the way Kip was looking at her. The faint frown on his face as if he was trying to figure out what to think of her now that he knew more about her past.

“Our dad died too,” Justin said. “But he took care of us all the time and so did Uncle Kip.”

“You had lots of mothers and had lots of fathers but we have a mommy and we don't know where she is,” Tristan said, a gentle sadness entering his voice.

Nicole didn't want to look at Kip, knowing they were both thinking about Tricia and when they should tell the boys, but at the same time, like a magnetic force, their eyes met. In his gaze she saw concern and, at the same time, an indefinable emotion that called to her loneliness.

She tore her gaze away as she struggled to be analytical about the situation. He was a single, attractive man. She was a single woman. They were spending a lot of time together. So something was bound to happen.

“Uncle Kip used to race chuck wagons, but he doesn't anymore. He gots trophies. Lots of trophies.”

“Can we watch the chuck-wagon races tonight, Uncle Kip?” Justin asked, suddenly excited.

Kip shrugged and shot another glance at Nicole. “I don't know if Nicole is interested.”

“I've never seen a chuck-wagon race,” she said. “It sounds very exciting.”

“We'll see.” Then Kip straightened, his attention focussed on his driving as they entered Calgary. The traffic got busier and he turned off the radio, and soon they were hemmed in by vehicles all racing toward the next traffic light. They made their way slowly up the McLeod Trail. Though Nicole travelled in traffic when she lived in Toronto, she found the sudden busyness disconcerting and, surprisingly, annoying.

Funny how used she had gotten to driving quiet roads from the motel to the ranch and how much she enjoyed it. Well, she'd have to get used to traffic soon enough when she and the boys moved back to Toronto.

After numerous intersections and hundreds of vehicles, Kip pulled off into a huge parking lot and drove around until he finally found an empty spot big enough for the truck.

Nicole got out before he even had the truck turned off and was opening the back door to let the boys out. Tristan was already unbuckled and he jumped into her outstretched arms. Justin, however, went to Kip.

As Nicole walked around the truck she heard the squeal of people, the pounding music from some of the rides and the general hubbub emitted by fairgrounds the world over. She felt a peculiar sense of anticipation. She'd been to a fair only once in her life.

“Before we go any farther, I have to say something to you boys.” Kip caught the boys by the hand and knelt down so that he was face to face with them. “We're going to a very busy place. You have to remember to stay close. You're not to run off. You have to be holding either Nicole's or my hand. Do you understand?”

They both nodded.

“Do you both understand?” he repeated again.

“Yes. We do,” they both said again.

“Okay, then, as long as that's clear, let's go.”

Tristan grabbed Nicole's hand, Justin caught Kip's and then the boys held each others, anchoring the adults.

Just like a family.

Nicole wanted to push the thought aside, but at the same time, she was tired of juggling her feelings. Trying to ignore her attraction to Kip and her appreciation of who he was.

This was supposed to be a fun time, and she intended to enjoy herself. This was like a little holiday. She wasn't thinking past today. She was with a good-looking man and she was free from responsibilities for the day.

Why not simply enjoy it?

I
t had been years since he'd been to Stampede. Everywhere Kip looked he saw cowboy hats, blue jeans and cowboy boots. Most were the brand-new hats of the once-a-year cowboys, but a lot were well-worn. The tinny sounds of carousels and blaring music from busy rides mingled with the oily scent of funnel cakes and hot dogs.

Though he'd crawled out of bed at some ridiculous hour so he could get done with the farm work on time, it was worth every minute of lack of sleep to see the looks of wonder on the boys' faces as they stood in the center of this milling crowd.

He glanced over at Nicole, who was glancing around with a bemused look on her face. He thought of her comments in the truck and wondered how many fairs she'd been to in her life. He doubted very many.

Though she'd spoken quietly and unemotionally about her past, Kip had sensed a hidden pain and sorrow that made him see her through different eyes. Her life hadn't been so privileged after all.

“So where do we start?” Nicole asked.

“For now we just wander around, and take it all in.”

“We should buy Auntie Nicole a cowboy hat,” Tristan said.

“I don't know if Auntie Nicole can pull off a cowboy hat.” Kip glanced at Nicole's distressed blue jeans and silk shirt.

“I chased cows the other day,” Nicole protested. “I think I'm a good candidate for a cowboy hat.”

“I don't know if that's enough of a qualification,” he said, responding to her humor.

“I also know how to ride a horse,” she said with another grin as she stepped aside to avoid a man pushing a baby buggy.

“And you probably ride English,” Kip said, giving Tristan's hand a bit of a tug, reminding him to stay close.

“It's not as easy as it looks,” she replied.

“Auntie Nicole should ride the horses at the ranch,” Tristan said, jumping with excitement. “Then we can too.”

Kip shook his head. “I don't think so, buddy.”

Nicole shot him a puzzled glance, and though he wasn't about to elaborate, he got the feeling that sometime or another she would ask him more about it.

They wandered through the crowds and past rides, working their way to the events' barns. They turned a corner and came upon a group of people in a circle cheering on three children riding pedal tractors racing each other to a finish line.

When Justin saw this he tried to break free of Kip's hand. “Can we race? Please?”

Kip frowned as he looked over the crowd.

“I'm here too, you know,” Nicole said.

“What do you mean?”

“I can watch the boys too.” She added a crooked smile which made him wonder if she was teasing him just a bit.

He couldn't help but smile back. A relaxed Nicole was, he had to admit, fun to be around. “Okay. I guess it'll be fine.”

“Goody.” Justin grabbed Tristan's hand.

Kip let them go to stand in line while he and Nicole moved in closer. People walked around them and gathered ahead of them, yet Kip felt so aware of Nicole it was as if no one else existed.

“So tell me a bit about your chuck-wagon racing. Do you miss it?” Though her question was quiet, he sensed her sympathy.

“Yeah. I do.” He let his mind slip back, pulling up memories and he smiled.

“What do you miss the most?”

“I don't know,” he said, shrugging her question aside.

“You must miss something,” she pressed.

Kip shot her a puzzled look. “Why does it matter?”

Nicole held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. “Because I'm guessing you gave it up for the boys, and…I think that's admirable and, well, I'd just like to know.”

“Okay. Let's see.” He scratched the side of his nose with his forefinger, trying to formulate his answer. No one had ever asked him what he missed, so he had to think a bit.

“I guess I miss the challenge and the thrill. The sound of the horn and then trying to jockey for first place after running the figure eight. The feel of those hooves thundering on the packed dirt and how you sense every shift of the horse in the reins, trying to read them and keep them working as a team.” He stopped, feeling a touch of embarrassment at his enthusiasm. “That's in the past now.”

“Still, it must have been hard to give up dreams,” Nicole said quietly.

“Yeah. It was,” he admitted. “Hanging around on the circuit gets expensive, and I need to think about the boys' financial future.”

“I take it Scott had no life insurance?”

“Or a will.” Something Nicole and her father did have granting them custody of the boys. Tricia may have been irresponsible in some areas but not in that one.

“I'm surprised Scott didn't ask your married sister to take Justin and Tristan,” she said quietly.

“Scott wanted the boys on the ranch, and my sister was expecting a baby. I was too attached to them to let the twins go anywhere else.” He gave her a careful smile, surprised to feel his reaction to the softening of her features. A wayward breeze tossed her hair, and a strand got caught in her lip gloss.

Before he could stop himself, he reached over and loosened her hair, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

His heart gave a little thrum and he wondered, just for a moment—

“We're going to race now,” Tristan shouted out.

Kip dragged his way emotions back to reality. This was crazy. He had to keep his focus on the boys.

The boys she was planning to take away.

 

Nicole followed Kip down the concrete stairs of the arena to their seats, clinging to Tristan's hand. The excited voices of people echoed in the yawning space.

This was supposed to have been a time alone with her and the boys, she thought, trying to work up her resentment. Kip wasn't supposed to be along.

The trouble was, the more time she spent with Kip, the
more confused she grew. The more attracted she became to him.

Which definitely complicated her life. The purpose that had brought her here grew foggier with each day that she saw the boys with Kip and his family on the ranch.

This was the only life the boys had known. Could she really take them away from that?

She closed her eyes willing her mind to stop its ceaseless whirling and circling back. She was here with an attractive man experiencing something she could talk to her friends back home about once it was all over.

A date. Something she hadn't gone on for a while. So just enjoy it, she told herself.

“We're up in the nosebleed area, but we'll be able to see the whole track this way too,” Kip said as they followed him to their seats. Below them lay a large open area surrounded by other bleachers and ringed by a racing track.

“I sit with Uncle Kip and Tristan sits with Auntie Nicole,” Justin announced.

Auntie Nicole would have preferred to keep the boys between her and Kip, but the boys were already in their seats, leaving two open between them.

Just go with it, Nicole thought. Stop overthinking.

“So how does this race work?” she asked, determined to be casual about the situation.

“You see this space below us where the barrels are laid out?” Kip swept his hand over the large open area ringed by other, smaller bleachers. “That's where the first part of the race is. There's eight barrels, two for each team. The teams line up at a designated spot marked with chalk in the dirt, do a figure eight around each barrel in the open space, and then they have to head around the half mile track and come back to the finish line right below us.”

“Looks complicated,” Nicole said, trying to imagine what would happen.

“Then there's the four outriders,” Kip added.

“What do they do?”

“They have to stay with the chuck wagons,” Tristan said, clutching the teddy bear Kip had won for him in a shooting gallery.

“Each chuck wagon is assigned four outriders,” Kip continued. “When the horn goes, they have to throw a stove and a couple of sticks into the back of the wagon, mount up and follow the chuck wagons through the pattern.” Kip grew animated as he spoke, and he was grinning, leaning forward in his seat as if he could hardly wait for the races to start. “If they're too far behind their chuck wagon when he crosses the finish line, the team gets a penalty. Those outriders really give 'er to keep up.”

Nicole was struggling as well to keep up, but she simply smiled and nodded, surprised at the excitement in Kip's voice.

“Here they come,” he said, pointing to the track. Four teams of horses pulling what looked like a small covered wagon with wooden wheels came trotting down the track toward the place where other men were putting up the barrels.

“What's on the covers of the wagons?” Nicole asked.

“Sponsors' names. Costs a lot to keep a team of horses and a wagon racing in the circuit. Especially to get to the Stampede. Technically the chuck-wagon races are called the Rangeland Derby, but it's always part of Stampede.” Kip clasped and unclasped his hands, his eyes tracking the movement of the chuck wagons. “Nick is here. Awesome.” Kip shot her a quick grin. “Every time we competed he said he would quit, but he didn't and now he's here.” He laughed, turning his attention back to the teams. “And Pete
Nellisher. Huh. I never thought his team had it in them to get this far.” The hunger in his voice was reflected in the expression on his face as he leaned forward.

He misses this more than he lets on, Nicole realized.

She remembered the smile of contentment on his face when he had come back from fixing the fences the day the cows got out.

He'd given up a lot to take care of the boys. She thought of the parked wagons and the dozens of horses the boys were supposed to stay away from. Kip made sacrifices that never came up in any conversation they'd ever had. From the way the boys talked, she knew they had no inkling of what he relinquished so he could be there for them. Kip could have easily left them with his mother every weekend. Could easily have carried on racing.

But he didn't. He gave all this up for the boys.

“See, each team has their starting position marked out,” Kip said, leaning closer to her as he pointed to the teams moving into position. “This is one of the trickiest parts. See how antsy those horses are? They know what they have to do, but you have to make sure you get them to the starting position at exactly the right time. You get too close and they jump the horn. Too far and you lose valuable real estate.” Kip's voice grew more intense, his full attention, like a laser, on the action below. He leaned closer to her, laying one hand on her shoulder, pointing with his other hand. “See how hard the guy at the head of the team has to work to keep the team back? The driver can't pull up too hard or the horses won't be ready.”

A horn blared, Nicole jumped and Kip's hand dropped from her shoulder. He jerked forward as if the sound itself triggered an automatic reaction.

The outriders let go of the lead horses and jumped on their own, and soon the area around the barrels was a
confusion of wagons and horses as four teams wove a figure eight.

“C'mon Nick, not too tight. Ease up. Ease up.” Kip bit his lip, watching. “Yeah. Like that. Like that.” He nodded his approval of his friend's work, inching to the edge of his seat. “See, Nicole, he's got to lean way over the side of the wagon to help the wagon move sideways. You've got to get into that inside lane right off the mark.” He clasped his hands, nodding his approval of his friend's tactics. “Now lean left. Get those horses over to the inside. Lean. Lean,” he yelled as his friend did exactly what Kip urged him to do. “Like that.” He turned to Nicole, catching her hand in his. “He's doing it, he got the lead.”

Nicole's attention was torn between the race and Kip's undivided attention to what was going on. He was more animated and alive than she'd ever seen him.

And his hand still clutched hers.

Then, when the racing wagons thundered around the last bend, outriders trailing behind the wagons, madly trying to keep up to their wagon, Kip jumped to his feet. “C'mon, Nick. C'mon.”

Nick was standing up, leaning way ahead, urging the team on. He shot a glance over his shoulder as if to check where his outriders were, then he gave the horses another slap with the reins and they sailed across the finish line.

Kip hollered, waving his hat. “Yeah. Nick. Way to go.”

Then Kip turned to her, grabbed her and gave her a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. “He won. Nick won.” He pulled back, grinning and to her surprise and shock, planted a kiss on her mouth.

When he drew back, the astonishment Nicole felt was mirrored on Kip's face. For a moment they stared at each other, as if unsure of how to react or what to think.

Kip blew out his breath, then bent over to pick up his hat. “I'm…I'm sorry,” he muttered. “I got carried away.”

Nicole wished she could make a casual joke, but she was still trying to catch her breath. Trying to reorient herself.

Kip's kiss was unexpected but, to her surprise, not unwelcome.

“I was excited for your friend too.” She drew in a quick breath, willing her heart to stop pounding.

“Did you give Auntie Nicole a kiss?” Tristan asked, his voice holding a teasing note.

“Shame, shame, double shame, now I know your girlfriend's name,” Justin chanted in the sing-songy voice of the schoolyard.

Nicole ignored them as she sat down, her cheeks flushed and her heart beating erratically against her ribs.

It was the excitement of the moment, she reminded herself as the competitors trotted away, passing the next set of teams heading toward the starting position. The kiss was spontaneous and spur-of-the-moment…

And nothing like she'd ever experienced before.

Nicole folded her trembling hands together. She kept her eyes on the horses, but for the rest of the races, her attention was distracted by the man beside her.