Patricia Johns - Falling For The Cowboy Dad

“No, no, this has nothing to do with the school,” she replied. “But I’m glad to hear she’s enrolled. She’s—” Isabel looked down at her computer tablet “—four years old. Am I right?”

“Yeah, four,” he confirmed. “So, what do you need from me?”

“I’m here to see if I can be of any assistance to you,” Isabel replied. “Do you have any other children?”

“No, Poppy is my only child,” he replied. His child, and he didn’t like people butting in, even when he felt ridiculously overwhelmed.

“So, she’s in preschool, then?” Isabel asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Her first day is today.”

“Wonderful. I have some information about community resources we have available for young families.” She pulled a stack of brochures out of her bag. “Take a look through when you have some time. When was her last visit to the dentist?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve only had her for a couple of weeks. But I’ll make a few appointments once things calm down a bit.”

“That sounds good.” She smiled again. “I’d also like to set up a visit when I could chat with Poppy, and with you. Just see how things are going for you both.”

Billy repressed a grimace. “Sure. That would be fine.”

“How about in...” She consulted her tablet again. “Two weeks? That would give you both some time to settle in, and you might have a better idea if you need any extra support.”

“Sure. Two weeks.”

Isabel pulled out a business card, scratched something on the back of it and handed it over. “Would the early evening, say around seven, be less intrusive to your schedule?”

“Probably,” he agreed. “That would be fine. We’ll be here.”

“Wonderful.” So much cheeriness, but he couldn’t help narrowing his eyes.

“And if you have any questions, any problems, or think of anything that might help you out at all, don’t hesitate to call, okay? This is my job—helping with these transitions. And my interest is in making sure that kids are getting everything that they need. I’m sure we both want the same thing there.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who abandoned her,” Billy said. “I want that on the record.”

“Mr. Austin, I’m only here to help and provide support.” Her tone grew firmer, and a little less cheery.

“Okay, then,” he said.

“I look forward to seeing you both in two weeks.”

Isabel moved toward the door and slipped back into her boots, and Billy stood there in silence.

“In that stack, there is a brochure about nutrition and sleep schedules for young children. I hope those will be helpful,” she said.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Whatever she was trying to do, it wasn’t as reassuring as seemed to be her goal. With a wave, the social worker left the house and headed to a small sedan. Billy watched as the car pulled out of the drive and headed for the main road. He heard a shuffle behind him and turned toward his boss, mildly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry about that, Mr. Ross,” he said.

“It’s not a problem, Billy. You’re going to make a fine father. I have no doubt about it. They’ll see it and let you be.”

Billy sincerely hoped that Mr. Ross was right. He actually did need help. He just didn’t trust getting that help from child-welfare services. It might not be completely logical, but he was afraid that if he showed any weakness, it might give them confirmation that he wasn’t a fit parent.

And it was more than the fact that whatever that link was between a father and his daughter, Billy felt it. She was his, and he could see evidence of that in all sorts of little mannerisms. But he’d also seen his daughter struggle with her mother’s choice to leave her. There was no way he was going to let her feel that again. Poppy needed him, and he was going to be the best parent he could possibly be.

Billy looked at his watch.

“I’ve got to go pick up Poppy from school,” he said.

“You bet,” Mr. Ross replied. “Thanks for your work today.”

So maybe Billy hadn’t had much of an example of a good parent in his own life, but at the very least he could look at what his mother had done and take the opposite path. Poppy was going to come first—always. There’d be no competition between his daughter and his romantic life. He’d probably mess up a lot of things as he navigated the world of little girls, but he wouldn’t mess up that one!

* * *

“NATHANIEL, YOUR MOM is over there,” Grace said, pointing for the little boy’s benefit. “Do you see her?”

“Mommy!” And Nathaniel was off, boots thunking against cement as he ran toward his waiting mother. Grace smiled and waved. Nathaniel was the last child to leave, except for Poppy, who stood next to Grace, her thin legs poking out of her winter boots, and her eyes wide with nervous tension. Grace reached out and smoothed a hand over Poppy’s hair. She wished she could shoulder some of that anxiety for the girl—but that wasn’t possible.

“There’s your dad,” Grace said as she spotted Billy coming across the snow, toward them, feeling a flood of relief at the sight of him. Poppy needed her dad, and Grace was a poor substitute right now.

“Oh, good...” Poppy breathed.

Grace could hear the solace in that little sigh, and her heart nearly broke. This child had been bravery itself today, making new friends while eyeing the door with a forlorn look on her face.

Grace waved Billy inside, a frigid wind whipping into the school and raising goose bumps on her arms under her blouse.

“There you are, kiddo,” Billy said with a grin. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late. Somebody came by to talk to me, and she just wouldn’t leave .”

A small smile turned up the corners of Poppy’s lips. “Why not?”

“Some people, kiddo. Some people. Anyway, I’m here now.” Billy looked over at Grace with a hesitant smile. “How’d it go?”

“Pretty well, I’d say,” Grace replied, trying not to react to those warm brown eyes of his. “I got Poppy reading some picture books, but she worked through the pile pretty quickly. I had her read to me for a little while, and I can’t find the top of her vocabulary yet. But at the same time, she’s four, so while she needs a challenge, it has to be...age appropriate.”

After watching that child stare at the door with a lonesome look in her eyes, Grace knew exactly what Poppy needed—and it wasn’t anything a teacher could provide. Grace was on the outside of the circle.

“If she can handle bigger books...” Billy said with a shrug.

“She can handle the words and the paragraphs,” Grace replied. “But the emotional intensity might be a bit much. Older kids need more of an emotionally intense plot. Little kids need more reassurance that their world is safe and secure.”

“Ah.” Billy picked up Poppy’s backpack and put it over his own shoulder. He was silent for a moment, and Grace looked down at his daughter.

“You ready to go home, Poppy?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Poppy said quietly, and she looked up at her father, looking deflated and tired.

“The...uh...the woman who came by the ranch was from child welfare,” Billy said, and he met Grace’s gaze, his expression hollow and tired, too. He wanted to talk, she could tell.

“Poppy, do you remember that book you liked about the bear family?” Grace said, turning to the little girl. “I wanted to show your dad. Could you run and find it? It’s in the pile somewhere...”

“Okay...” Poppy looked up at her father.

“Yeah, I’d like to see it,” he said with a nod. “Go ahead.”

Poppy trundled back into the classroom, and Grace looked up at Billy. “Who called child welfare on you?”