Coming Home to a Cowboy. Sheri WhiteFeather
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her awareness of him. “I’m more comfortable keeping things as they’ve been.”
“I’m just trying to do what a dad is supposed to do. Besides, I have a sound portfolio. I’ve been making investments for years.” He made a grand gesture. “I could buy myself a big ole ranch.” He lowered his hands to his sides. “But being boxed in would probably make me panic.”
“Most people wouldn’t think of owning a large spread as being boxed in.”
“It’s not the size of the place. It’s the act of putting down roots. Even when I was a kid, I felt stifled every time I walked into the house, and I promised myself that I when I grew up, I would go wherever the wind took me.”
And now the wind was blowing him in this direction. But for how long, she couldn’t be sure. She wanted to trust him, to believe that he would be as responsible with Cody as he claimed he would be, but it was too soon to take him at his word.
“We need to lighten things up,” he said.
Bridget blinked. “What?”
“All of this heavy conversation. We didn’t do that last time.”
Did he expect it to be the same? “The circumstances were different.”
“I know, but what’s wrong with being upbeat, like we were before?” He flashed a cheesy smile, showing way too many teeth.
She went ahead and laughed. “You look like Dudley Do-Right.”
He laughed, too. “The dimwitted Mountie with the horse named Horse? I saw that movie. I think it got just about the worst reviews ever.”
“I know, but I thought Dudley was cute.”
He upped his hundred-watt smile. “So you had a thing for him?”
“I was a teenager when I had that crush.” She batted her lashes, being as silly as he was. “But a girl likes what she likes, I guess.”
“Big dumb guys with rockin’ bodies?” he teased her, flexing like a brainless stud.
His Dudley Do-Right smile was pretty near blinding her now. And damn if he didn’t live up to the rockin’-body part. She almost grabbed his arm by the biceps, but thought better of it. Instead, she simply said, “Come on. Let’s go see the horses.”
They entered the barn, and the equines came forward and poked their heads over the stalls, interested, no doubt, as to who Kade was.
“Well, hello you two,” he said, approaching them like newfound friends. “I take it neither of you is named Horse?”
“Sorry, no.” Bridget introduced the gray. “That’s Misty. She’s a gentle old girl, but when the mood strikes, she can get barn sour.” She turned to the red dun. “And that’s Minnie P. She’s a bit of a nut so we named her after Minnie Pearl, the country comedienne who used to wear the sales tag on her hat. My grandfather loved the Grand Ole Opry, and he thought Minnie Pearl was the best.”
Kade chuckled and gave the horse an affectionate pat. “That’s quite a handle to live up to. Almost as bad as Horse.” He shifted his attention to Misty, patting her, too. “As for this old gal, I can help you with her. I’ve got plenty of remedies for barn sour horses.”
“That would be great. We’ve only had her for about six months, so she’s still fairly new to us. I got her at an auction, and I’m the one who rides her. She’ll be fine for a while, then she starts getting stubborn again.”
“No problem. Maybe we can have a training session later this week?”
“Okay. That sounds good.” Just for the heck of it, she showed him the rest of the barn, even if there wasn’t much to see, other than the tack room and hayloft.
After the tour, they went back outside, and he removed his phone from his pocket and checked the time. “It’s almost two,” he said. “What time does Cody get home?”
“Around three. We can meet him at the bus stop.”
“What should we do between now and then?”
She considered his question. The next hour was going to seem like forever if she didn’t think of something to keep them occupied. “I can make a pot of coffee if you need a boost.”
“Sounds good. I can always use a shot of caffeine.”
“Do you still take it with tons of sugar?”
He looked surprised. “You remember how I take my coffee? That’s a hell of memory you’ve got there.”
She wasn’t likely to forget. “I take mine supersweet, too, and every time we went to the diner next to the motel, we had to ask for more of those little packets. There was never enough on the table.”
His lips curved into an instant smile. “Ah, yes, my sugar partner in crime. Now that you mention it, it’s coming back to me, too. It’s funny because when I checked into the motel, I noticed that the diner is still there, and from what I saw, it looks pretty much the same.”
“Cheap motels and greasy spoons never die.”
He put away his phone. “And neither do sexy memories.”
“There’s nothing sexy about that diner.”
“I was talking about the motel.”
Before she got weak-kneed and shivery, she started walking toward the house. No way was she going to add fuel to the fire by saying anything else.
Once they were in the kitchen, she stood at the counter, preparing to make the coffee. He leaned over her shoulder, watching the process. She wanted to tell him to give her some space, but she liked his nearness, too.
For now, her mind was filled with images of the motel and how they’d conceived Cody. They’d used protection, except for when they were in the shower. It hadn’t been very responsible of them, but they’d both been of the same mindset, wanting to feel that kind of physical closeness without a barrier between them.
Were those the sexy memories he was referring to? She remembered it well: the water pouring down over them, their mouths fused in blind need, her pulling him closer, him withdrawing at the moment of completion in an attempt to minimize the risk.
“What are you thinking about, Bridget?”
She nearly spilled the roasted grounds she was scooping into the machine but forced herself to finish making the coffee. “I was just zoning out.”
He was still leaning over her shoulder. “I’ve been doing that, too, getting caught up in all kinds of thoughts. Mostly I’ve been thinking about Cody, hoping he likes me as much as he thinks he will.”
Warmed by his admission, Bridget turned to look at him, and they gazed gently at each other.
She broke eye contact and poured the coffee, which was already filling the room with a homey aroma.
She handed him the sugar bowl, but he gave it back to her, letting her go first. She didn’t know how something as mundane as adding sweetener to her drink could elevate her already heightened emotions. But God help her, it did.
He took his turn and they remained quiet, sipping the sugar-laden brew and waiting for the moment to arrive for him to meet their son.
Cody’s bus stop was located on the corner of a paved street, just blocks from Bridget’s house. Kade struggled to stand still, but it wasn’t the coffee he’d drunk that was affecting him. It was his nerves.
“Are more parents going to be showing up?” he asked Bridget. For now, they were the only people there, but they were also about ten minutes early.
“I’m pretty sure we’ll be it,” she replied. “The