The Cowboy's Family. Brenda Minton
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talk.” Wyatt let his gaze slide to where the girls were still playing with Rachel. Kat was sitting on the grass, a big old collie next to her. Molly and Rachel were spinning in circles.
They needed her. The thought settled so deep inside of him that it ached. His girls needed Rachel. Maybe more than they needed him. He couldn’t make chains with clover or even manage a decent braid in their hair.
“Do you think she’d go out with me?” Jackson walked over to the gate and tugged it open. “I mean, if you’re not interested.”
“I’m not interested.” Wyatt walked through the gate, sidestepping a little snake that slid past. “I’m not interested, but I think maybe you’re not her type. Shoot, I’m probably not her type either.”
“Yeah, well, I always had this idea that when I settle down it’d be with a woman like her, the kind that goes to church on Sundays and probably makes a mean roast.” Jackson shot him a smile. “Yeah, a guy would live right with a wife like her.”
“Right.” He’d had enough of this talk. “Let’s take a look at the pony first. How old?”
“Ten. He was my niece’s. But Tash is getting older and Greg bought her a bigger horse.”
“I don’t want to take someone’s pony.”
“He’s just eating grass and getting fat.”
Wyatt stopped in front of the paint pony. It was a pretty thing, brown and white spotted with a black mane and tail. The pony lifted its head from the clover that it was munching on and gave him a look.
“He isn’t mean?”
“Never seen him be mean.”
Wyatt knew all about horse traders and lines like that. He wasn’t about to take Jackson Cooper’s word for it. He patted the fat pony and leaned against him, holding his mane to keep him close.
“Yeah, but I want a little more reassurance than that, Jackson. This is for my kids.”
Jackson walked up and lifted a leg to settle it over the pony’s back. His normal smile had disappeared and he was all serious. “Wyatt, I might be a lot of things, but I can tell you this: I wouldn’t get a kid hurt. This pony is the safest one you’ll find. I broke him myself and I wouldn’t be afraid to let my own kids on him. If I had a kid.”
Wyatt nodded and he didn’t take his eyes off the pony. Even with part of Jackson’s weight on his back, the little pony hadn’t moved, hadn’t been distracted from the clover he was tugging at. He didn’t even startle when shouts from the gate meant that he’d been spotted by the girls.
The girls were on the gate, standing midway up, waving. Rachel stood next to them, her smile as big as theirs. He wondered if she was still dreaming of having a pony someday? He’d known girls like her his whole life. Wannabe cowgirls. He used to like them. They were fun on a Friday night at a rodeo in Tulsa. They were easy to impress and soft to hold.
That had been a lifetime and another Wyatt Johnson ago. Before. His life fell into two slots. Before Wendy, and after. The first half had been full of hope and promise. The second was about getting it back.
He was just standing there, staring, when Jackson waved them into the field. They yelled and before Rachel could open the gate, they were running toward him. The little pony looked up, watching, dark ears pricked forward. Yeah, he’d do for a first pony.
Rachel caught up with the girls halfway across the field and spoke to them. He watched them settle and reach for her hands. One on each side of her.
Jackson whistled and shook his head, laughing a little. Wyatt shot him a sideways glance and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Keep it to yourself, Jackson.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.” He wasn’t blind.
And then the girls were there, Rachel standing quietly behind them. They were all hands, reaching for the pony, saying it was the prettiest pony ever. Jackson Cooper looked as if he had created the thing himself and set it in front of them with a ribbon.
“Be careful, girls.” Rachel moved closer and her hand went out, reaching to brush through the pony’s mane.
“What do you think, girls? Would this be a good pony?” Wyatt wanted to be the hero. He’d been fighting the pony conversation for a while. They were still little, still needed to be held and couldn’t brush their teeth alone. He’d been on horses his entire life, but that was different. When it came to his girls, it was different.
Molly nodded. “This is a perfect pony named Prince.”
“Actually, his name is…” Jackson grinned. “His name is Prince.”
Rachel smiled at him. Wyatt lifted his hat and settled it back in place. “We’ll take him. And a filly.”
“Let’s talk price.” Jackson looped a bit of rope around the pony’s neck. “Can you girls lead Prince back to the barn so we can load him in the trailer?”
Molly was nodding, her hands moving in anticipation, but Jackson handed the lead rope to Rachel. Wyatt started to tell them to be careful, but he clamped his mouth shut. He hadn’t been real good at letting go lately. It wasn’t easy, letting someone else take care of Molly and Kat. It wasn’t easy watching them with someone who was not their mother.
But they needed this. They needed to let go of him once in a while.
His good intentions almost came undone when halfway to the gate Rachel stopped, picked up Molly and then Kat and placed them on the back of that pony. Kat was in front and Molly wrapped her arms around her sister. Rachel stood close to them.
“Might as well breathe and let it go, Wyatt.” Jackson laughed and slapped him on the back. “Two things are going to happen. They’re going to grow up, and that woman’s probably going to get under your skin.”
Wyatt didn’t smile. He watched as Rachel led the pony with his girls on it through the gate and then he settled his attention back on Jackson Cooper and the filly he wanted.
And he repeated to himself that Rachel Waters wasn’t going to get under his skin.
Chapter Four
Stupid moment number twelve. Or maybe twelve thousand? That’s what Rachel thought of volunteering to ride along with Wyatt and the girls to get that bull. And it was even worse standing in the shade watching Wyatt unload the pony from the trailer. He had hauled the pony and his new filly home. He’d left the bull for Jackson Cooper to trailer for him.
The girls stood next to Rachel, waiting for their dad to give the all clear. They fidgeted in one spot because they knew better than to run at the pony.
Wyatt led the filly, a dark bay two-year-old, into the barn. The horse pranced alongside him, her black tail waving like a banner. The filly dipped her head a few times and whinnied to horses in the field who answered back with shrill whinnies to the new girl in town.
Wyatt walked out of the barn a few minutes later. The filly was still inside, her shrill whinny continued. Wyatt pulled off his hat and swiped his brow with his arm. The girls were tugging on Rachel’s hands, but she didn’t let go. Somehow she managed to stand her ground.
He had told them to wait. She was more than willing to do what he asked. She was content to stay in one spot and watch as he stepped back into the trailer to retrieve the pony.
The second he stepped out of the trailer with the pony the girls started to jabber. Kat was pulling on her hand. Rachel leaned and picked the child up. When she looked up, Wyatt watched, his smile gone, his expression unreadable. He turned away and led the pony to the small corral next to the barn.
He closed the gate and tied the lead rope to the pole fence. “Come on over.”
She put down