The Cowboy's Little Surprise. Barbara White Daille
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“Not if we handle this right.”
They were within a hundred yards of the bakery and sandwich shop when Ally came to a stop again. “That day in the cafeteria...”
“Yes,” Tina said with a sigh. “That day...”
At lunch in the school cafeteria that Monday, she had invited him to the upcoming Sadie Hawkins dance. He had turned her down, then walked away—with his arm around another girl.
The rejection, coming after what he had done to her—done with her—the night before had left her stunned.
Yet, as much as it had hurt at the time, she had later thanked heaven for Cole’s brutal response. It had made her face the reality she hadn’t been able to admit during the weekend. The reality that all the magic she had seen in him was nothing but a much-practiced act full of smoke and mirrors.
Ally shook her head. “It took you forever to work up the courage to ask Cole out, didn’t it?”
She nodded.
“But,” Ally said softly, “if I were in your place now, I know what you’d say to me. You’re not that scared high-school girl anymore, are you?”
“No, I’m certainly not.” Over the past few years, she’d grown up and developed a backbone. She’d learned to stand up for herself, to be a good role model for Robbie.
Something his father could never be.
“All right, then,” Ally said, “let’s go inside. We can take care of two birds with one sticky bun—find out from Layne what’s going on with her and get her to tell us how long Cole’s staying in town.” She raised her eyebrows in question.
Tina nodded firmly.
Though she had spent five years dreading the thought of seeing Cole again, she had never actually prepared for the reality.
He would be starting work on the ranch in just a few days and that didn’t give her much time. Before then, she needed to find out whatever she could about his plans.
* * *
TINA AND ALLY walked through the unoccupied bakery and entered the adjoining room. The homey, country-kitchen atmosphere of the sandwich shop encouraged lingering over a cup of tea. People said the owner had planned it that way because, as a result, she heard all the gossip that traveled around Cowboy Creek.
As teens, Tina and Ally had felt sure the many small round tables in the shop were bugged.
At this time of the evening, they had their pick of the room and seated themselves at a table for two.
Tina took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of cinnamon and cloves that always seemed to hang over the bakery and the shop. The smells here were almost as good as those in Abuela’s domain at the Hitching Post.
“I don’t see Layne,” Ally said over the top of her menu.
“Maybe she’s in the kitchen getting an order.”
“I don’t know... Wait—Sugar’s headed this way. You know what that probably means.”
Tina nodded. “She’s filling in.”
The owner began her day in the bakery long before the sun came up, yet could often be found in the shop at closing time. Normally, she let the waitresses handle the customers.
The wooden floorboards creaked as Sugar approached their table.
A hefty Georgia peach in her midsixties, Sugar had the softest drawl Tina had ever heard. She also had the most solid arms Tina had ever seen on anyone, including any wrangler who had ever worked on Garland Ranch. Sugar claimed she’d earned those muscles from years of kneading bread dough and hauling restaurant-sized sacks of flour.
“Hey, girls, you’re in late.”
“And you’re working overtime,” Tina said.
“Yep. Layne took the day off, so here I am.”
“Darn.” Ally set down her menu, giving Tina a look that said she would handle the questioning—which was fine with Tina. The less interest she showed, the less suspicion Sugar would direct her way. “We wanted to talk with her.”
“Well, she’ll be in tomorrow. Or you can catch her at home tonight.”
“Is she spending the day with Cole? I heard he’s in town.”
“He is.” Sugar’s gray eyebrows rose as her eyes widened. “And you could have knocked me over with a sheet of parchment paper when I heard about him coming home. Layne was pretty closemouthed about it till last week.” She sounded upset that she hadn’t known sooner about Cole’s return.
“But why is he back?” Ally asked. “I mean, he hasn’t come home since he graduated high school.”
“Because the ink’s barely dried on Layne’s divorce papers, and that rat Terry’s kicking her out of the house.”
Ally gasped. “But she’s got Scott—and she’s pregnant!”
Tina winced, thinking of the loving support she had received from Abuela and Jed all through her life, even during her pregnancy. Even though she had never told them who had fathered her child.
“Layne’s situation doesn’t seem to be bothering Terry,” Sugar continued. “So, she called Cole.”
“That’s a first,” Ally said, exchanging a glance with Tina. “How long is he staying?”
Ally had spoken too quickly. Sugar frowned. Resting her hands on the edge of the table, she stared from Ally to Tina and back again. “Why? What’s happening?”
She didn’t ask only out of curiosity. Everyone knew how well Sugar looked out for all the residents of Cowboy Creek, especially her employees.
Just the way Jed looks out for us, as Abuela would often say.
“There’s nothing’s happening,” Tina said. But there soon would be, unfortunately.
“Yeah.” Ally nodded. “I was just wondering whether I’d get to say hi or not.”
“You should. Layne tells me he’ll be around for a while.” Sugar chuckled. “I think coming back home again might give that boy a lot more than he bargained for.”
This time, neither Tina nor Ally had anything to say.
* * *
IN HIS SISTER’S new apartment, Cole picked up one of the packing boxes he’d piled in the corner of the room. She had given the larger of the two bedrooms to her son—and his toys—and left this closet-sized one for herself.
“Scott’s probably getting hungry,” Layne said. “I need to start thinking about supper.”
“Supper? You just gave him a three-course snack.”
She laughed. “That was hours ago, Cole. And little boys have big appetites. Don’t you remember from when you were a kid?”
“Not really.” What he recalled was being four years old and stockpiling his own snacks, holding them aside until Layne started whining about being hungry. The sooner he could get his little sister quieted, the less chance there was of their dad yelling and sending her into tears.
As if she had read his mind, she abruptly grabbed a pile of clothes from the carton he’d set next to the closet door. “Once I have this box emptied, I’ll start supper.”
“We could go out,” he suggested. “Or pick up some takeout. My treat, either way.”
“No. The sooner I get used to cooking in that tiny kitchen, the better.”
She turned to the closet.