Shelley Galloway - My Christmas Cowboy

“I’ve got time. I’ll wait until you unlock your door.”

She was getting uncomfortable. “All right,” she said slowly. She dug a hand in her purse and fished around for her keys. And then fished some more. Finally, when she located the key and slid it into the lock, a good two minutes had passed.

To her dismay, he turned the knob and walked right inside. She flicked on the light behind him. “Well, thanks again.”

After carefully setting the still sleeping baby down, he turned to her. “So, since you’re not doing anything now, how about we visit for a while?”

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty tired.”

“You’re not ready for bed, are you? It’s only nine.”

The innocent question was accompanied by a look of wanting. “No. But I am ready to just sit. Thanks again, Addison. I’ll see you around.”

Instead of stepping toward the door, he leaned back against the white paint of the wall. “You look sad. How about some company?”

“No thanks. I’m not in a very good mood. I wouldn’t be much of a conversationalist.”

“We wouldn’t have to talk, Jo.”

So, that was where his kindness had been leading. Why was she even surprised?

Oh, but her hand ached to slap him. But they were neighbors. And that was her reputation. The good-time girl. So she laughed him off. “Good night, Addison.”

Surprise knotted his brows. “You’re serious, huh?”

“I am. Good night.”

“Well, sure. ‘Night, Jo.”

The moment he walked through her doorway, she closed the door with a snap and dead bolted it. Oh, he made her want to take a shower!

As Amanda Rose slept on, Jolene went to go do just that. Maybe the hot water flowing over her shoulders would relax the knots that had suddenly appeared there.

Maybe all her worries would disappear down the shower drain, too.

She had bills and a baby and a reputation in ruins.

And only about another month’s worth of money in her checking account.

And very few options.

Moments later, she learned that even the cleansing water of her shower did no good. No matter where she went, her problems seemed to be glued to her. No amount of soap was going to wash them off.

Tears soon mixed in with the spray. And then her knees went weak.

Before she knew it, Jolene was sitting on the cold, hard tile, crying her eyes out. And a very sweet baby sat silent, watching her on the other side of the glass.

“So, I was thinking you and me were overdue for a little heart to heart,” his dad said late that night.

Trent set down the tumbler of Jim Beam he’d been nursing for the past hour and shifted uncomfortably as his dad took a seat across from him. “I figured as much.”

Balancing his elbows on his knees, his dad pierced him with a gaze. “Tell me more about you and Jolene. And Amanda.”

“I don’t know much more than you.”

“I don’t agree.” His father’s eyes hardened. “I think you’ve been might busy, son.”

Trent felt his cheeks heat as the lump in his throat grew. “Jo and me got a little carried away one night. That’s all.”

“And you didn’t use protection.”

“No.”

“What did you say?”

The tone told Trent everything he needed to know. “No, sir,” he amended.

“So everything is really all your responsibility, isn’t it?”

“I swear, I didn’t know she was pregnant. I didn’t know about Amanda.”

“Because you didn’t see the need to treat her right. Did you?”

“Dammit, Dad. It was just a one-night thing—” Trent took a breath as he tried to come up with the words to describe what life had been like out on the road. All a lot of women wanted from him was one night.

But before he could continue, his dad held up a hand. “That sorry explanation is your problem, Trent. You shouldn’t have been treating women like that …”

“Dad …”

“And especially not Jolene.”

The statement shamed him. But pride made him keep talking. “You know, nothing’s certain. We don’t know for certain that I’m the father.”

“Oh, I think plenty is certain. You’ve just told me that you treated Jolene disrespectfully, were too full of yourself to be a man and check up on her, and now still don’t want to accept responsibility. You’ve shamed me, son.”

Trent felt lower than a rattler’s belly. “Yes, sir.”

“You listen to me, and you listen well. You need to make things right. Pronto.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad we talked.” After a moment’s pause, his father slapped his hands on his thighs. “All right now. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m to take Ginny to Florida so you can get your act together.”

“There’s no need to leave.”

“Oh, there is. You’ve got a mess to clean up and a woman and a baby to get to know. I don’t want your sister witnessing that.”

“Honestly, Dad …”

“Listen to me, son. There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to decide he’s done being an idiot. This is your time. Start making decisions based on what is best for Amanda and Jolene instead of just you.” With a sigh, he got to his feet and started toward the door. “It’s time to grow up, Trent. You best do that and make your mother proud.”

When he was alone in the living room, Trent leaned back and thought about everything he’d done and everything he’d put off. And then he thought about his mother, and the way she’d always smiled at him when she hugged him good-night—as though she’d thought he was something special.

It was time he deserved that look again.

“TRENT, HOW YOU HEALIN’ up?” Steve Zimmer boomed on the other end of the cell phone.

“I’m getting there,” Trent replied as he maneuvered his truck down the bumpy road to the west barn. Continuing to hold the steering wheel with one hand and his cell with the other, he wondered why his agent had decided to give him a call. “What’s going on?”

“I was just thinking about you. A couple of sponsors have let me know that they’re going to be checking out the Silver Tour in Rapid City. Think you can make it?”

The Black Hills Stock Show was in February. “I don’t know.”

“That’s the wrong answer, Trent. We need you. The sport needs you, too. You’re turning into something of an attraction.”

“It’s probably just ‘cause that bout with Diablo got posted on YouTube.” Shaking his head, Trent cursed the anonymous fool who had decided to tape Diablo stomping on him, zooming in on his grimace of pain, and then posting the whole damn thing on the World Wide Web. All in record time.

“That YouTube segment’s been a regular little diamond mine, that’s true. But your blue eyes don’t hurt none, either, Trent. Girls are swooning every time they see that close-up of you getting your butt kicked.” He paused. “So what do you say?”

“I can’t commit to any tour dates yet, Steve. I’m stuck here at the ranch for a while.”

“What do you mean, ‘a while’?”

“I don’t know. My brothers are out of town and my dad’s recovering from heart surgery. And my sister, well, she needs me right now, too.” Not to mention all the things with Jolene that had to be worked out. “I need to hold down the fort.”

“No one else could do that?”

“I don’t think so. Plus, my arm still ain’t a hundred percent.”

“I hate to hear that, Trent. I’ve got to tell these sponsors something. They’ll bide their time for a bit, but not forever. If you don’t get back in the ring real soon, your career is going to be over.”

Over. That’s what he was afraid of. He was afraid he was going to finally break something bad enough to send him to the hospital for a month next time.