Cowboy for Keeps
Auteur
Kristi Gold
Lezers
17,9K
Hoofdstukken
10
One
When Dana Landry finally caught up with her wayward child inside the riding stable, her first reaction was relief. The second was something much more disconcerting—a purely feminine response to the man crouched before her eight-year-old daughter, engaging her in lively conversation.
Callie had found a cowboy. But not just any cowboy.
His broad shoulders and perfect profile exuded strength. His well-worn jeans accented each male attribute—finer points impossible not to notice despite Dana’s cautious attitude toward men.
By all rights realizing her daughter was safe should have returned Dana’s pulse to normal. But it hadn’t. If anything, her kettledrum heart threatened to run away to parts unknown. All because of this man.
Not because he looked dangerous. He didn’t seem at all disreputable. Not because Callie was shy and didn’t wish to speak. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Callie never spoke to strangers because they rarely spoke back.
But this one did. In fact, he was quite a conversationalist, unlike so many others where Callie was concerned. This typical Texas cowboy seemed more than happy to talk to Callie, a smile illuminating his handsome face. A sincere smile, not one filled with the usual pity.
And Callie hung on his every word. Or more accurately, his every gesture.
Because Callie was deaf.
The man spoke with hands that seemed too large to communicate in such a fluid, rhythmic motion. Yet somehow he managed to make the act a graceful waltz of words.
Callie seemed totally taken by him, a radiant smile plastered on her cherubic face, her blue eyes sparkling as she concentrated on the silent discourse.
For a time Dana was mesmerized, then reality took hold. She walked toward the pair, grasped her daughter by the shoulders and turned her around. “Callie Renee Landry, you shouldn’t have come in here without me.”
The cowboy rose to a towering height that made Dana feel like a little girl. “Hey,” he began, “she’s okay. I found her climbing up the stall. She just wanted to get a peek at Pete here. No harm done.”
The sound of his resonant voice startled Dana. She had assumed he was hearing impaired too. Smiling in spite of her chagrin, she said, “I’m sorry. My daughter’s enthusiasm gets her into trouble now and then.”
Dana looked down when the incessant tapping of Callie’s finger at her hip didn’t stop. With her hands going ninety to nothing, Callie frowned at her mother. Dana enunciated her words so Callie could understand. “You shouldn’t run off without me.”
The man smiled at Callie and ruffled her red hair. “Your mama’s right. You don’t want her to get her britches in a tangle over you being gone, do ya?”
He signed so quickly as he spoke Dana wouldn’t have been able to interpret had she not heard him. She was as inept at sign language as this man was remarkable at it.
Callie obviously thought his wit quite hilarious, silent laughter on her lips. Dana didn’t find the situation at all funny, which had more to do with her reaction to the cowboy than with Callie’s running off.
Callie spelled out something, then pointed to the man.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Dana said. “You need to slow down so I can understand.”
He removed his hat and offered one large hand for Dana to take. “I forgot my manners. I’m Will Baker.”
His smile grooved deep indentations into his cheeks, and his teeth flashed white against his tanned, evening-whiskered face. The combination of dimples and sun-streaked golden hair lent him a boyish charm, but his midnight eyes held an allure that was 100 percent grown-up male.
Dana blinked once, twice. “Oh Will…” She said it as if he were someone she had suddenly recognized. Then she glanced away to keep from staring.
Quickly bringing herself back to reality, she smiled at him and took the hand he offered. A large strong hand. “I’m Dana Landry.”
“Pleased to meet you.” His grin deepened, and something in his dark eyes called to Dana on a level she didn’t want to acknowledge. His touch made her aware of how small her hand felt in his; her flesh tingled in response.
After releasing Dana’s hand, Will knelt back down to Callie’s level. When he spoke, he used the corresponding signs. “You wanna take a ride on old Pete sometime?”
Callie didn’t have to sign yes, although she did. Her joyful expression shouted her answer.
“Good. Have your mama bring you back soon. Wanna tell Petey goodbye?”
Callie nodded her head enthusiastically. Will stood and settled his hat back on his head before dragging a green bucket from across the aisle. He flipped it upside down in front of the horse’s stall, then lifted Callie and planted her in the middle of the bucket.
He turned back to Dana. “Does she take lessons here?”
“I was about to register her when she did the disappearing act.”
“Oh. I figured with her English riding clothes and all she already had a few lessons under her belt.”
“She’s ridden a little. The clothes were mine. She insists on wearing them.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “So you ride?”
Dana frowned at the memory. “Not in a long time. I took lessons when I was Callie’s age, but that was more than twenty years ago. I’ve forgotten everything I learned.”
He gave her a quick once-over and another distracting smile. “I doubt that.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist and suppressed the urge to tug at the hem of her tailored navy skirt. Although the suit more than amply covered her, she felt exposed by his sensual gaze. She also felt incredibly warm and pleasantly chilled at the same time.
He winked. “You might want to dress more casually next time you come here. I’d hate for you to ruin your nice clothes.”
Dana choked down her self-consciousness and began gathering Callie’s discarded helmet and crop. “I’ll try to remember that.” She sensed his gaze, and when she looked up, he was leaning back against the stall with a lazy posture, arms crossed over his chest, revealing well-toned biceps and a dusting of golden hair on strong arms where his sleeves were rolled up.
“So what days will Callie ride?” he asked.
She swiped some hay from the black velvet helmet, avoiding his eyes and the urge to stare. “On Thursdays. If it works out.”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
How could she explain? Although Dana loved her daughter more than life, Callie could be a handful. She forced herself to look at him straight on. “She’s been in a riding program at school. One of her teachers suggested more lessons this summer since Callie’s really taken to it. She’s very…full of life, and it seems to calm her down. But there’s not a program here for children with special needs, so she’ll be at a disadvantage.”
Will glanced at Callie, who continued to scratch and pet the horse’s chestnut muzzle poking through the iron rails. “She’ll do fine,” he said. “As far as being full of life, nothing wrong with that.”
Most of the time, no, Dana thought. Although he probably meant well, this man had no idea how much of a challenge Callie could present. “I want her to learn just the basics of riding English. Walk and trot. Do you teach?”
“No, ma’am. I lease part of the facility to train for the Western pleasure circuits.”
A run-of-the-mill horse trainer. Dana was disappointed. Callie would have an automatic advantage with an instructor who could communicate with her. And he certainly was easy on the eyes, a definite advantage for Dana, considering she would be able to watch him in action. She forced away the wicked thoughts and tried to concentrate on the situation at hand. “Do you train full-time?”
“That, and team rope.”
Dana’s confusion must have shown in her expression because he added, “Two cowboys on horseback chasing a steer, one roping the horns and the other roping the legs. Then you stretch the cow out, and the best time wins.”
She wanted to ask why would anyone do such a thing to a poor animal, but she’d already revealed her ignorance more than once this afternoon. “Sounds intriguing.”
“Actually, it’s kind of boring to anyone not participating.”
Will pushed off the stall, then plucked Callie from the bucket and set her down beside Dana. “Better go with your mama now so you can get fixed up to ride.” He tweaked her nose. “And this time don’t run off.”
Dana set the helmet back on Callie’s head and handed her the crop. “Thanks for watching out for her, Mr. Baker.”
“No problem. And it’s just Will.” He touched a fingertip to the brim of his hat. “See you later, Mrs. Landry.”
“Not Mrs. Just Dana.”
Callie waved goodbye to Will, then grabbed Dana’s hand and started to pull her toward the exit. But before she left, Dana intended to satisfy her curiosity. She turned back to him. “Why did you learn to sign?”
Some unnamed emotion flickered in his dark eyes. Possibly pain. Or sadness. Whatever it was, it took away his smile.
“Family member,” he said, then turned and walked away, leaving Dana’s curiosity still hanging in the balance.
For some reason she wanted to know more about this man. She was definitely intrigued.
While Callie dragged Dana toward the arena, her thoughts kept going back to Will Baker and his reaction to her question. Maybe he had a hearing-impaired child. That would explain his rapport with Callie and his ability to sign. But then, it could be anyone in his family. Maybe even a wife, although he hadn’t been wearing a wedding band. As if that meant anything. As if she should care. But she couldn’t stop the memory of his dark eyes, his sensuous smile, his overt masculinity. And she couldn’t seem to stop her pulse from quickening….
Callie jerked Dana’s arm, bringing her back to the situation at hand. Dana tightened her grip in an attempt to slow her before both of them landed facedown in the dirt. She worked her way through the crowd and stood at the end of the line.
After reaching the registration table, Dana glanced up and saw Will leaning against the stable door with a lazy posture. Thumbs hooked in pockets, rope thrown over one shoulder, one knee bent with a booted heel resting on the wooden door behind him, he looked like a man straight out of the Old West. A man too good to be true. A gorgeous cowboy who wasn’t at all her type. If she had a type.
The tent that covered the registration area offered protection from the sweltering July sun, but Dana experienced a sudden rise in temperature that had nothing to do with the weather.
“Your check, ma’am?” the registration lady asked.
“I’m sorry,” Dana muttered, taking her attention away from Will and bringing it back to her present responsibilities. She handed over the check and kept Callie in her sights as she signed the release forms.
Callie stood a few feet away with a little boy who appeared to be about nine. Although Dana hoped her daughter had found a friend, she looked on warily.
“What’s your name?” the boy asked.
Callie hesitated for a moment, then spelled out her name.
“I said what’s your name?” the boy repeated.
Dana walked to Callie and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Her name is Callie.”
The child scrunched his pug nose. “Why didn’t she just say it? Is she dumb or somethin’?”
Dana’s first impulse was to scold him for his ignorance. Realizing he knew no better, she said, “She can understand what you’re saying if you talk slowly.”
“Oh.” He shrugged, then skipped away.
Dana’s heart dropped at the sight of Callie’s crestfallen expression. What went through her daughter’s mind when she encountered those who couldn’t accept her? How much did she understand about the cruel realities of life? Had she been too sheltered since she’d begun living in residential school?
Everything Dana had done to this point she’d done for Callie. Now that she had a new job, she could gain some much-needed financial independence from Rob. She could have more say regarding Callie’s education as soon as she was able to share the cost of the tuition. But the one thing she desired most was the ability to communicate better with her child. Not that she hadn’t tried.
No matter what method of communication Dana proposed, Rob found it unsatisfactory. He didn’t approve of Callie signing because that was too obvious in public. He didn’t like the oral concept because he didn’t want Callie to speak; she would sound odd. In reality what he wanted was a normal child.
Regardless, Callie had learned to use her hands to speak and her eyes to understand the words formed by the hearing world. Unfortunately, Callie had learned so quickly she’d left Dana struggling to catch up in their limited time together.
As if to say she forgave her, Callie sent her mother a loving smile. Then she raised her hand and folded her ring and middle finger down, forming a sign from the heart, the sign they shared every night before bedtime—I love you, Mama.
Dana swallowed around the lump in her throat and mouthed the words “I love you, too.” Callie hugged her tightly then, as if Dana had given her the moon.
Dana’s eyes misted. There was absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do for this child who filled her heart with so much joy. Beginning Monday she planned to try to shorten her hours at the firm and spend more time with Callie while she was home this summer. And now more than ever she was determined to take signing classes, even if it meant less sleep and less pay. She’d sell the damned house if she had to. Besides, she’d always considered it Rob’s house, not hers. He had designed every detail, right down to the bitter memories.
Shaking off her resentment, Dana scooped Callie up into her arms and twirled around. She suddenly felt buoyed, exhilarated, ready to take on anyone who stood in the way of her daughter’s happiness, including Rob. No matter what it took, she vowed to make a better life for Callie. Today was only the beginning. And perhaps she’d find a way to convince Will Baker to help.
On Thursday evening Will laughed to himself as he watched Ms. Landry climb out of her fancy foreign car. Obviously her idea of casual wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. A sleeveless silk blouse and black slacks wouldn’t cut it in knee-deep dirt. Not that she didn’t look good. Better than good. Hell, she’d look good wrapped in a feed sack. And he’d pay good money to see that. His gut tightened at that image, and other places down south stirred.
Stop right there, Baker.
This woman was way out of his league. Grand Prix jumping and socializing, that’s what Dana Landry was all about. A woman who had it together. Probably had a perfect life. Until God threw a monkey wrench into the plan and gave her an imperfect child.
As if Will conjured her up, Callie came charging down the hill away from her mother. Her antics made him smile. Nope, little Callie wasn’t going to take too well to walking and trotting. That would entertain her for about twenty minutes, and then she’d be ready to run.
If this little girl belonged to him, he’d see to it that she knew how to breakaway rope. Or at least run the barrels. Something other than posting up and down in a saddle like a ninny.
But she wasn’t his. And it was none of his business.
Callie ran past the outdoor arena, where the students had gathered, and headed toward Will, her hands in motion as fast as her feet. She came to a grinding halt and flung her arms around his waist.
“Whoa!” he said, setting her back. “Where are you goin’ in such a hurry?”
She tapped her temple, wiggling two fingers forward like ears, indicating the single word horse. He guessed that about said it all.
Dana marched down the hill with a disapproving expression. She pointed at Callie. “You run away again, that’s the end of your days as an equestrian.”
Callie looked at Will and passed her index finger over her left hand, obviously hung up on the term equestrian. Will glanced at Dana, and when she didn’t respond, he used his hands and voice to tell Callie, “Equestrian means horse rider. She won’t let you be one if you don’t behave.”
Callie nodded her understanding, but her frown showed she wasn’t the least bit happy about being reined in. Will didn’t blame her. He had the urge to run at times. Like now.
He came in contact with Dana Landry’s eyes, and an immediate sense of awareness rushed through him at break-neck speed, spreading heat throughout his entire body.
“Callie’s quite taken with you,” she said in a voice as soft as her smile.
And he was quite taken with Callie’s mother. No doubt, the woman was pretty. More than pretty. Sexy. And real classy. Probably the settling-down kind. The type of woman he always avoided. But something told him that ignoring Dana Landry would be easier said than done.
Instead of getting out while the gettin’ was good, he found himself saying, “Since I’m through for the day, I’ll introduce you to the lady who’ll be teaching Callie.”
When Will started toward the outdoor arena, he felt tiny, fragile fingers slide across his palm as Callie slipped her hand into his. The gesture startled him so much he almost pulled away. Instead, he smiled down at her. But while they walked, he wondered at the child’s obvious trust—like she wanted or needed something from him. Something he sure couldn’t give her. That thought made him uncomfortable, almost as much as her mother did.
He shot a sideways glance at Dana. She didn’t have the splattering of freckles across her nose like Callie, but her eyes were the same ocean blue. She had her chestnut hair pulled back in one of those long fluffy ponytails, like the first time he’d seen her in the barn. He wondered what it would look like down, wild and tousled after hours of lovemaking.
Will stopped his thoughts in midstream. Nothing wild about this woman. He had about as much chance with Dana Landry as he had of saddling up Pete to go rope the moon.
Besides, he shouldn’t even consider getting to know her. As far as he knew, she could be married. Although, considering their conversation in the barn, he suspected she wasn’t. But for the past twelve years he’d been on his own, and he liked it that way. No strings attached, no permanent commitments. He didn’t intend to settle down, even though he ached to do just that at times. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Free and easy, that was the life-style he had chosen. More or less. In reality, it had chosen him.
They approached Marge Golden, who stood near the arena, listening to an uptown mama explain her little Phillip’s talent in a voice that would wake the dead. Will caught Marge’s glance and chuckled when she turned her head and pretended to cough, then rolled her eyes skyward.
After the woman finished her speech, Will guided Callie and Dana over to Marge. “Madam M, this is the student I told you about.” He dropped Callie’s hand to sign. “Callie, this is the madam, but you can call her Marge.”
Marge turned her attention to Dana, and in her three-pack-a-day voice said, “Will’s the only one who calls me madam. Sounds like I’m running a house of ill repute.” She smiled at Callie. “Tell Miss Callie I’m pleased to meet her.”
“She reads lips,” Dana said, the first words she’d spoken since arriving at the pen.
“Okay, then,” Marge said, turning to the child. “I’m pleased to meet you, Callie girl. We’re about ready to get started.”
Dana wrung her hands. Will assumed she didn’t know how to take Marge, with her waist-length, salt-and-pepper braid, threadbare flannel shirt and faded jeans that looked like something the Salvation Army had rejected. But she was the best kid instructor Will had ever known.
When Marge took Callie by the hand and led her through the gate, Dana took a step forward.
Will touched her arm, jolted by the feel of her bare skin beneath his fingertips. Clearing the hitch from his throat, he said, “Come on over here. Next to the fence so you can watch.”
Dana followed silently behind him. Once they reached a white board fence, she gripped the top rung with both hands like she wanted to pull it up and move it out of the way.
“Where are they going?” she asked as Marge and Callie crossed the arena.
Will pointed to the other end where several horses were tied. “Over there to learn their first lesson on how to tack up. They’ll be back in a minute.”
Dana continued to white knuckle the fence. “I hope the instructor keeps her attention. I don’t think Callie had her chinstrap on. She’s very small for her age. I should have told Marge to watch her closely, in case she—”
“Just relax,” he said. “Marge knows what she’s doing. Besides, Callie’s riding a twenty-five-year-old mare that’s not much bigger than a pony.”
After about ten minutes, two other students, one boy and one girl, came striding into the arena on their mounts, all proper looking in their English clothes. Will thought they’d look a lot better dressed in denim shirts and jeans and a pair of leather leggings. The damned English saddles were about useless. Might as well ride bareback.
“Here she comes.”
Dana’s words brought Will out of his musings. He glanced over to see Callie sitting in the saddle atop the gray mare, her feet positioned in the irons, both hands holding the reins.
“She looks real good,” Will said. “She’s going to do fine.”
“I hope so.” Dana’s skeptical tone told him she wasn’t at all convinced.
Callie didn’t break her concentration until she approached Will and Dana. Putting the reins in her teeth, she tried to sign, “Look at me,” from the best Will could tell. Then the horse began to turn around from the mixed signals Callie was giving her. Will heard Dana’s gasp and decided he might better intervene.
He climbed to the top rung, leaned over the rail and signed, “Get those reins out of your mouth, and keep your hands still, Callie,” before Callie passed. She nodded and resumed her position.
After Will climbed down, Dana released a long breath. “We may have to tie the reins around her hands. She does love to sign.”
Bracing one hip against the pen, he faced Dana. “Why don’t you sign to her?”
“I do,” she snapped. “Some. She’s been living in residential school for the past two years. Before that we had her in an oral concept program for a short time, and she learned to read lips. Now that she’s learned how to sign, she seems much happier.”
“Did she learn to speak?”
“Not much. And she doesn’t try at all now.”
“Does her father sign?” This one question interested him more than anything, although it had little to do with Callie.
“No, Rob doesn’t sign at all.” She sounded like that fact disgusted her. Or maybe Callie’s father disgusted her. Then it could be just wishful thinking on his part.
But for some reason Will couldn’t let it go. “So when you’re all at home, how does he communicate with her?”
“He doesn’t live with us.”
“So you’re divorced?” The enthusiasm he heard in his voice made him cringe.
“Yes.”
From the way Dana’s face turned to stone, Will decided she hadn’t been happy with the departure of Callie’s dad. The woman probably still pined away over the jerk. He wanted to ask more questions about old Rob, but thought better of it.
“He expects her to read lips,” Dana continued without him asking.
“How does he expect her to talk back?”
“Writing things down. Pointing. That sort of thing. They’re not very close.”
Will figured that was the understatement of the year. How could anyone be close to their child if they couldn’t talk to them? “So how much signing do you know?”
Dana lowered her eyes. “Not a lot. Callie’s been very patient with me, and I’m trying. It’s not as easy as it looks. But I guess you would know that.” She met his gaze. “So how long did it take you to learn?”
Because of his parents, Will had been exposed to sign language from the day he’d come into the world. He’d had no choice but to learn. But it wasn’t something he readily revealed to many people. Not because he was ashamed, but because he hated the pity, the apologies. “I’ve had a lot of practice. In my opinion it’s easier to talk with your mouth and hands. Best of both worlds. It just takes time and practice.”
“I know. I’m trying to work some signing classes into my schedule. I’m kind of the new kid on the block at my job so I’m putting in a lot of hours. I don’t have much time.”
Thankfully she’d given him the out he needed and the opportunity to change the subject. “Sort of like slave labor?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “You could say that.”
“What exactly do you do for a living?”
“I’m a CPA.”
Damn! She probably made a helluva lot more money than he ever had. Or would. Another reason why she probably wouldn’t be interested in a cowboy, and that bothered the hell out him. Just as well, he supposed. He didn’t need to get involved with a woman of her caliber. Or any woman, for that matter.
“Ah, I get it now,” he said.
Confusion passed over her expression. “Get what?”
“The clothes. The car. It all fits.”
She made a sound that resembled a grunt, as if she resented the association. Why she would, he couldn’t say. She fit the image, wore it well. Too well.
A sudden gust of wind blew through the arena, bringing a mushroom cloud of dust and scattered debris with it. Will scrubbed at his eyes and caught his hat on the fly.
“Oh, God!” Dana dashed past him, knocking his arm in the process.
Will spun around. He heard the frightened cries of children, then saw the gray mare trotting past. And in the middle of the arena, a tiny, frail figure lay in a crumpled heap on the ground.
Callie.
