Cathy Mcdavid - Last Chance Cowboy

Just then, Dan’s cell phone rang. Angling his body away from them, he answered it, speaking in clipped, short sentences. “Hello. Yeah. Not today. Look, Gavin, I’m busy right now. Call you later.”

Alarm shot through Sage, leaving her unsteady.

Was that Gavin Powell calling Dan?

She took a deep breath, only vaguely aware of Roberto whispering to her that they weren’t leaving until they’d served Dan with the papers.

Slowly, rationality returned. Gavin had no idea Dan was Isa’s father. He owned the local riding stables, and Dan was a horse trainer. It stood to reason they knew each other and possibly had dealings together. Clients in common.

Dan disconnected and, pocketing his cell phone, turned back around. “As I was saying—”

“As I was saying …” Rober to tried again to give Dan the papers.

He swatted them away. “You’re not getting anything from me without proof.”

“Proof of what, Dan?” Sage demanded, her voice shaking from residual shock and rising anger.

“Paternity. How do I even know Isa’s mine?”

Sage reeled as if physically struck. “Of course she’s yours,” she sputtered.

“I’m not so sure. You were still seeing that old boyfriend of yours.”

“We worked together. That’s all.”

“Yeah? Well, get the kid tested. Then we’ll talk.” With that, Dan slammed the door in Sage’s and Roberto’s faces.

Gavin opened his front door to a miniature version of Sage, complete with boots, jeans and a floppy cowboy hat.

“Hi. I’m Isa.” She displayed a huge smile, not the least bit embarrassed by her two missing front teeth.

“I’m Gavin. Come on in.” He stepped aside, and she jumped over the threshold into the living room, landing with both feet planted firmly on a colorful braided area rug.

“Do you have a last name?”

“Don’t you?”

“Of course.” She giggled. “What’s yours?”

“Powell. Why?”

“My mom says I have to call adults by their last name.” She assessed him with dark brown eyes in much the same manner her mother had yesterday. “Thank you for having me here today, Mr. Powell.”

Her speech sounded rehearsed, probably Sage’s doing, but Gage was impressed nonetheless.

He’d once visited Cassie when she was about this age. He and Isa had already exchanged more words in two minutes than he and Cassie had during their first hour together.

In all fairness to his daughter, she hadn’t been meeting an acquaintance of her mother. The man standing before her was her father, a stranger she didn’t remember from his last visit three years earlier.

The horse figurine he’d brought as a gift hadn’t broken the ice. How was he to know she liked Barbie dolls and dressing up? Their trip to the park had been strained, as were the next three days. How hard it must have been for Cassie to be thrust into the care of a man she barely knew and told, “This is your father.”

Love wasn’t something that could be manufactured on the spot just because of a biological connection.

The worst moment of that trip was when they were saying goodbye. To his astonishment, Cassie hugged him fiercely and, in a teary voice, asked him not to go. The only genuine moment they’d shared and it had to be when he was getting into the rental car and heading to the airport.

His answer, he couldn’t remember it now, had just made her cry.

His next visit three years later was even more strained. And this last time, when he’d picked her up at the airport for her first-ever trip to Arizona, she’d been sullen rather than shy. Nothing much had changed in the four months since.

He must, he told himself, be patient with her. Their dys-functionality hadn’t happened overnight. It wouldn’t be resolved quickly, either.

“Where’s your mom?” he asked Isa.

“Right here.” Sage rushed through the still-open door, pocketing her cell phone and looking completely frazzled. Her high, elegant cheekbones were flushed a vivid crimson, and several tendrils of hair hung haphazardly around her face as if pulled loose by anxious fingers. “I told you to wait for me, mija. ”

“Yes, but—” Isa’s eyes widened with delight. “You have a puppy!” She dropped to her knees and opened her arms.

Cassie’s puppy went right to her, drawn like iron particles to a magnet, his entire hind end shaking along with his tail. She gathered him into her lap, giggling as he covered her chin with kisses.

“What’s his name?”

“Blue.”

“But he’s brown and black.”

“His eyes are blue.”

Isa peered into the puppy’s face, earning herself more kisses.

“Sorry we’re late.” Sage shut the door behind her. “I got tied up.”

“It happens.” Normally, Gavin was intolerant of tardiness. He blamed running a business with strict schedules. But something had obviously thrown Sage for a loop.

She nodded and, pushing one of the flyaway tendrils from her face, offered a pale shadow of the smile that had come so easily and naturally yesterday.

“You okay?” Gavin asked.

“Yeah. Just having a killer day.”

He thought she looked more distraught and upset than overwhelmed. “Can I get you and Isa something? A soda or ice water?”

“Water would be great.” She sighed as if she’d been waiting all day for just such an offer.

At that moment, Cassie poked her head into the living room. “Have you seen Blue?”

“In here. Cassie, you remember Ms. Navarre. And this is her daughter, Isa.”

He’d told Cassie the reason for Sage’s visit during dinner last evening and about their plans to capture the mustang. While she’d tried to act as disinterested as she did about everything that concerned him or the ranch—with the sole exception of riding and Blue—he noticed how intently she’d listened to both him and the questions Ethan posed.

Unfortunately, she was still smarting from him asking her to leave him and Sage alone the previous day, and, as a result, talking to him only when necessary.

Okay, he’d handled the situation wrong by embarrassing her in front of company. But how was he to know? He was still at the beginning of a very long and very high learning curve. They both were. Though, as the adult in the relationship, he should be doing better.

Maybe an apology would go over better than an explanation. He’d try later. What could it hurt?

Cassie approached the little girl, and Gavin worried that she might not want someone else playing with her puppy. His concern faded when Cassie knelt down beside Isa and patted the puppy along with her.

“Hi. I’m Cassie. How old are you?”

“Six,” Isa muttered under her breath, shrinking slightly.

Strange, Gavin thought. The little girl hadn’t been the least bit bashful with him.

Cassie was undeterred. “I’m twelve. Do you like to ride?”

“Uh-huh.”

Blue rolled onto his back, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, completely lost in puppy ecstasy.

“I have a horse my dad gave me. He’s a registered paint.”

Isa ah’d appreciatively and blurted, “Your dad said I could ride one of your horses.”

“He did?” Cassie raised her gaze to Gavin.

“I thought later I’d let her give old Chico a test-drive.”

“I’ll take her.” A spark lit Cassie’s eyes, the first one Gavin had seen in a while.

For a moment, he was struck speechless. “Well …” While confident in her riding abilities, allowing her to be responsible for a six-year-old was an entirely different matter.

But there was that spark in her eyes.

“Come on, Dad. We could have an earthquake, and old Chico would just stand there.”