The Wrong Cowboy, page 21
Mabel pressed a kiss against Samantha’s forehead, but she stared up at him. And the moment their eyes locked, Jensen was doomed. He tried to shut her out and ignore the pull in those eyes. But try as he might, there was no breaking the hold she had on him. Every second of every minute they’d spent together today replayed in his mind. From him telling her he cared about her, to kissing her, to her leaving without a word about either.
It was plain to see Mabel loved his daughter. He thought, he hoped, there was something between them. Or am I just seeing what I want to see? Either way, if she kept looking at him that way, her friends and family and most of Garrison would realize that there was some truth to all the gossip.
“Are you coming to Junior Rangers?” Samantha asked. “Will you help me find a home for my rock?”
“Of course.” Mabel gently clasped Samantha’s shoulders and held her back. “No more tears, now. You’ll have to help your Paw-Paw win some prizes.” She tapped Samantha on the nose. “Okay?”
Samantha nodded, slid from Mabel’s lap and took his hand.
Jensen wiggled her arm, but it didn’t get him the smile he was hoping for. “Good evening,” he murmured to the table at large, then led Samantha back to his table.
“We need to have a talk,” his father mumbled. “This sort of thing isn’t acceptable, Jensen. Now, you know that.”
“We can talk, but I can tell you now, we’re going to disagree on this.” Jensen ignored the surprised expressions on his family’s faces and looked down at Samantha. “Wanna go for some ice cream?”
“Paw-Paw, you don’t need my help with bingo?” She patted her grandfather’s arm.
“No, I’ll manage. You go on, sugar plum, and have some ice cream for me.” His father was all smiles for his granddaughter.
He walked from the Veterans Hall, swinging Samantha’s arm and humming the tune to one of her favorite princess movies.
She was skipping before they reached the truck. He lifted her up and spun her around before buckling her into her booster seat.
“Jensen?” Kitty hurried across the parking lot. “What about Daddy? And Mr. Briscoe? What do we do if they do something stupid?”
He stared up at the twilight sky. “You just answered that question, Kitty. I’m tired of being Daddy’s keeper. He is making these choices. You don’t have to own them. I’m tired of seeing the Briscoes as my enemies. They’re not.”
“Forrest did sort of beat you to a bloody pulp,” Kitty reminded him, frowning at the memory.
He couldn’t argue; it was true.
“But I get what you’re saying.” She took a deep breath. “Does this have anything to do with Mabel?”
He didn’t say a thing.
“Fair enough.” Kitty hugged herself. “You two have fun.” She waved at Samantha through the window, then blew her a kiss.
Samantha waved.
Jensen climbed into his truck. “You ready, little miss? I say we get a sundae piled high with cookie dough and cherries and whipped cream and chocolate sauce.”
Samantha’s face squinched up. “Gross, Daddy. Icky.”
Jensen laughed. “Is it? What do you want?”
“Vanilla.” She bounced her legs in her seat. “Please.”
“Coming up.” He put the truck in gear and headed to the Buttermilk Pie Café, listening to Samantha sing—at the top of her lungs—her favorite princess movie song.
Why was it so hard for his father to accept he wasn’t the only one who felt affection for Samantha? He understood that family came first; he’d grown up hearing those words over and over. But the older he got, the more he began to question what that really meant. Did it mean making sure they were healthy and safe or did it mean carrying on a tradition of hate that had no place in the here and now? As far as he was concerned, he had an obligation to his daughter not to instill blind hate over something that happened so long ago the details were all circumspect.
The fact of the matter was, the details didn’t matter. Whether or not Hannah Monroe picked a Crawley or a Briscoe generations back shouldn’t decide whether a Crawley could pick a Briscoe today.
Does this have anything to do with Mabel? It has everything to do with Mabel. There was nothing he’d have liked more than to sit down beside her tonight. His father might think Miss Martha needed to “hush her mouth” but Jensen was glad the woman had spoken up tonight. There was no easy answer here. Next time he had the chance, he’d find out exactly what Mabel wanted. After he told her what he wanted. Her. He wanted her. A life with her. There was nothing he wanted more. If Mabel gave them a chance, he’d be asking her to face all sorts of ridicule and disappointment from her family. If she rejected him, it’d hurt something fierce, but he’d understand.
The worst thing he could do was stay silent. He didn’t want to live with that sort of regret.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Samantha’s voice reached him.
“Nothin, little miss.” He winked at her in the rearview mirror. “Nothing at all.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“THANKS FOR DOING THIS,” Mabel said, climbing into Hattie’s big half-ton game warden truck and pulling the door closed behind her.
“It’s no skin off my nose.” Hattie grinned. “Besides, it’s sort of romantic.” She put the truck in gear and drove out onto the county road. “Sneaking around.”
“I should never have said anything.” Mabel closed her eyes. “It’s not romantic, Hattie. It’s...pathetic.”
“Hush now.” Hattie wagged her finger back and forth in denial. “This thing will take some figuring out, that’s for sure. But you know he cares about you.”
I do. Mabel folded her hands on her lap and stared at them. But he has no idea how I feel. After Miss Martha’s speech, she’d been pondering her options. Tell Jensen how she felt, risk it all or leave and let things go back to the way they were.
“Mabel.” Hattie blew out a slow breath. “All you can do is try, right?”
At lunchtime, Jensen had texted her. He’d kept it short. We have a window from three to four today, if you’re free?
Mabel hadn’t hesitated to send a response. I’m free. See you and Stardust soon.
But this time, she knew she couldn’t borrow clothes and the work truck without raising eyebrows and facing a whole slew of questions when she got home. It was Hattie who had come up with the idea. They’d been planning on meeting up for dinner so Hattie offered to come pick her up. She’d drop her with Jensen, come back and pick her up, and they’d have their dinner as planned.
Now Mabel was cruising down the road toward the Crawley Ranch with a stomach full of nerves and clammy hands. She rubbed them on her skirt, wishing she knew what the right thing to do was.
“You look nice.” Hattie smiled. “Much better than the last getup. But if we’re being honest, it wasn’t all that hard to top.”
Mabel managed a smile.
It’d been two days since she and Jensen had kissed and the fish fry, two days since Jensen and Samantha had left the senior Crawley openmouthed and staring after them. But Dwight Crawley wasn’t the only one staring after them. The Ladies Guild would likely have a field day interpreting what had taken place. As much as she didn’t want to think that she was the cause of whatever obvious disagreement father and son had had, the odds were against her.
Forrest had watched the exchange with narrowed eyes—before shifting his attention her way. He had questions, but she wasn’t ready to give answers.
Hattie chattered on about some baby raccoons she’d be taking custody of in the morning. “I might be calling you.”
Mabel nodded. “Raccoons, huh? I’ve never worked with raccoons before.”
“I have a feeling Princess Mabel can make any animal feel better.” Hattie smiled. “That little girl sure adores you. And the whole princess thing? That’s adorable.”
“Princess thing? Doesn’t every little girl like princesses?”
“I guess so. I didn’t... But that’s just me.” Hattie glanced her way. “You do know she thinks you are a real live bona fide princess. Right?”
“What? What are you talking about, Hattie?” Yes, Samantha was all about the princesses, but she couldn’t think Mabel was one.
“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one that doesn’t know that. She waltzed into The Calico Pig the other day, proudly announcing that she had met the royalty of Garrison, Texas. Twyla Crawley looked like she’d swallowed a fly.” Hattie chuckled. “I know that’s mean of me. But sometimes that Twyla can be so high and mighty.”
Mabel was lost in her own thoughts the remainder of the ride. From the princess thing to Miss Martha’s advice to the shock on Mr. Crawley’s face when his son and granddaughter had left the fish fry. It was a lot. A whole lot. And every time she went over it again, she was more divided. When Hattie turned on her blinker, then pulled into the longer gravel drive leading toward Crawley Ranch, Mabel’s case of nerves quadrupled.
Just like last time, Jensen was waiting for her. Unlike last time, she felt a little more prepared. Maybe it was because she had taken a little more time with her appearance. And the fact that she was wearing clothes that actually fit her. Maybe wearing a skirt wasn’t the most practical attire, but her family thought she was going for a girls’ night with Hattie so...
“Hattie.” Jensen nodded. “Good to see you.”
“I can’t stay. I’m still on the clock.” Hattie slid her aviator sunglasses in place. “I’ll be back in an hour. Y’all have fun.”
When Jensen turned to face her, Mabel blurted out, “Samantha thinks I’m a real princess?”
“Ah. About that.” He ran his hand along the back of his neck. “She does.”
Mabel crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “How? Why?”
Jensen shrugged. “She came up with it all on her own. It seemed harmless enough at the time. And it makes her happy.” His dark blue eyes traveled over her face. “I thought she’d figure it out eventually. Then again, I hadn’t expected her to curtsy for your uncle and brother.” He shook his head, but there was a smile on his face.
“It all makes so much sense now.” She laughed. “As far as that goes, she’s won them all over.” The problem with Jensen smiling was how ridiculously off-balance it made her feel. At the moment, she was having a hard time not staring at his lips. Or thinking about that kiss. Or all the things she wanted to say to him. If only I knew if I should.
It didn’t help that he was looking at her like he’d looked at her before he’d kissed her. She took a deep breath.
He did, too. “So... I’ll see if I can’t get her interested in something else. Dinosaurs. I liked dinosaurs growing up. Maybe then she won’t be so stuck on the whole princess thing.” He shook his head. “I get the feeling Stardust has been waiting for you so we might as well head inside.”
Mabel didn’t say anything; she just followed along behind him. Since she’d gotten his text earlier, she’d sort of imagined a variety of scenarios for this afternoon. She had things that she wanted to say to him, but she got tongue-tied and overwhelmed at the idea of saying such words to Jensen, the real Jensen walking ahead of her—not the Jensen in her head. This Jensen was loyal to his family and daughter and she didn’t want to get in the way of that. It was one of the things she loved most about him.
He opened the barn door and the two of them walked inside, the temperature dropping a good fifteen degrees. “It’s awful hot out today.”
“And seasonably so.” Now we’re talking about the weather? “Jensen...”
Jensen turned, coming to a complete stop.
Her planned “I’d like to talk to you” would not come out. Instead, she said, “What do you think Samantha is going to say when she meets Stardust?”
A smile formed on Jensen’s mouth. “Well, she has this new favorite bedtime story about a horse that looks an awful lot like Stardust.” Had he taken a step closer? Or was it her imagination? “Her favorite person, a real-life princess, gave it to her.”
Mabel was frozen. Her lungs emptied and her heart picked up speed. Waiting. Hoping.
“She loves you, you know. You walk into a room and she lights up and gets an extra spring in her step.” He was definitely closer now.
“I love her, too.” If she reached out, she could put her hand on his chest. She was having a hard time breathing normally.
Jensen seemed to be weighing his words. He was being cautious, she could tell. Part of her wanted him to...go for it and let it all out. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what Miss Martha said.” He swallowed, the muscles of his neck working. “About us.”
Us. She pushed the hair from her shoulder, holding one strand and twining it around her finger, fidgeting. “I guess I have to.”
He nodded. “I was hoping we were on the same page.” His hand rested against her cheek, warm and solid.
“I don’t know, Jensen.” Her eyes searched his, an ache filling her chest. “Miss Martha is a brave woman. I’ve never been brave.”
Jensen stared at her, looking confused. “You? Mabel, I don’t know of a single person that would leave the comfort of their home to camp out in tents in horrible weather. You put up with miserable conditions with no guarantee that the animals you are working so hard to protect will be safe. Maybe that’s not bravery in your book, but it is in mine. I’d say it’s fearless. You’re fearless.” His hand brushed against hers as he let the strand of her hair slide between his fingers.
He thought she was fearless? She was terrified to tell him she loved him—terrified of how this would impact the lives of everyone she loved. And yet, she had to tell him. She had to. Here and now. “Jensen... I’m not fearless... I... You...”
Jensen dropped her hair and took a step back. “I understand, Mabel.” There was a sadness to his smile that tore at her heart. “I do. It’s not what I want for us but—”
She stepped forward, pressing one finger over his lips. “I’m scared to death, but I’ll try to get it out.” She took a deep breath.
The resounding slam of the door at the far end of the barn jolted them both.
“Where, Paw-Paw?” Samantha’s voice reached them.
“Your daddy wants to keep it a surprise, but I couldn’t wait a moment longer.” Mr. Crawley chuckled. “But don’t tell on me, or your daddy will be spittin’ fire.”
Mabel watched as understanding rolled over Jensen. His jaw locked tight and he braced himself for what was to come.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He ran a hand over his face. “Stubborn old fool.” He swallowed hard. “Mabel, I hate to ask, but can you come with me? Please. My dad? That horse? I don’t want things getting out of hand. Well...more out of hand.”
If he wanted her here, she’d stay. “Okay.” But Jensen was already walking away so she hurried to catch up.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Samantha, seeing the horse. Mr. Crawley, all smiles—until he saw Jensen... And her. Stardust, snorting and wary with so many people staring at her. When Jensen reached his father, the two of them started in on each other. Luckily, Samantha was too entranced by Stardust to notice. So entranced that she slid between the rungs of the pipe fence and into the corral with the horse. That was what set Mabel in motion.
Samantha went running across the corral toward the horse. Mabel went running after her.
“Samantha! Stop. You don’t want to spook her.” Mabel tried to keep her voice calm, but the closer Samantha got the more fearful Mabel became.
Samantha heard her, though, and did as she was told. She turned into a little statue and waited for Mabel. “I’m sorry. I got excited. She’s so beautiful. She looks just like the horse from my bedtime story.”
“This is Stardust, Samantha. You remember how you used to be before you rode on Firefly?” She waited for Samantha to nod before going on. “Well, that’s kind of how Stardust feels about people.”
“Oh.” Samantha stared up at the horse. “I’m sorry, Stardust. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Mabel squeezed Samantha’s shoulder gently. “She knows that. And I think, in time, she will follow you around just like the horse in your bedtime story that follows the princess around.”
“I have to be patient?” Samantha hadn’t taken her eyes off the horse. “Is there anything I can do to let her know I’m a friend?”
Mabel held her hand out to Stardust. “It’s okay now. Everything is okay. Samantha is yours. And she will take good care of you from now on.”
Stardust snorted, her ears swiveling forward and her tail swishing as she stared down at Samantha.
“Hi.” Samantha waved at the horse. “That’s me, I’m Samantha.”
Mabel smiled. “Why don’t you and I go find her an apple?” She took Samantha’s hand and started to lead her back across the corral. Neither one of them noticed Mr. Crawley until he was face-to-face with Mabel.
“Samantha, get yourself in the main house.” Mr. Crawley was red-faced with a vein popping out on his forehead—struggling to keep his anger under control.
“Do what your grandfather says, Samantha.” The last thing Mabel wanted for this little girl was to see her grandfather go from somebody loving to somebody mean. “You can find the perfect apple.”
“Okay, are you sure?” Samantha looked back and forth between the two of them, fully aware of the tension between the two adults. “Are you mad, Paw-Paw? I know I shouldn’t have run at the horse—”
“You didn’t do a thing, sweetie pie.” His tone had lost its snap. “I just need a moment with Miss Briscoe here.”
“No, you don’t.” Jensen came striding across the corral. “I asked Mabel to come here. We need her help.”
