Sasha Summers - A Son For The Cowboy

“Dot and Otis’s mom?” Toben asked. If the kids were anything like their parents, Toben could easily understand why Poppy and Rose weren’t close.

“Yeah, Aunt Rose and Uncle Bob.” He whacked another thistle. “Uncle Bob’s nice. He always has candy in his pocket. Mitchell, too. Mitchell’s always around, helping me and Ma. He’s real funny.”

Mitchell? Who the hell was Mitchell? What did always around mean, exactly? But then, Poppy was a beautiful woman. It made sense for her to have a man in her life. A man in Rowdy’s life. His anger and frustration pressed hot and heavy against his chest. They were almost to the house and Toben realized he had at least a hundred questions he hadn’t asked. He’d have to make sure they had more time together—soon.

“Good walk?” Poppy asked, curled up on the front porch swing. Toben tried not to stare into her big brown eyes. Instead he focused on her long brown hair, braided over one shoulder. She wore jeans and a short-sleeved blue blouse, her scuffed and worn boots used for work—not for show. She wasn’t about making impressions or putting on airs, he’d always admired that about her. She was Poppy, take her or leave her. The same woman she’d been years ago. The same woman who’d turned his world on its head, put longing in his heart and made him run for the hills.

The mother of his son.

His anger warmed him—and helped him keep his guard up.

“Yep,” Rowdy said, sliding into the swing beside her. “Wish Cheeto was here. Maybe we can go for a ride when he gets here?” he asked Toben.

“Good idea,” Toben agreed, leaning against the porch railing. “Or you two could come out to the ranch tomorrow. I live there, on the Boone Ranch. Work there, too. We’ve got a lot of horses on the place, and the food’s good. Give you a break from cooking. And setting off smoke detectors.” He couldn’t stop his teasing smile.

When she smiled back at him, every inch of him responded.

“I don’t think Dot and Otis are big horse lovers.” She frowned at Rowdy. “They’re leaving soon, though.”

“Not soon enough,” Rowdy grumbled.

He saw that she tried not to laugh but failed. It was the sweetest sound. Free and easy. Like their son. He liked it.

“They’re not the most...agreeable kids, are they?” Toben asked, chuckling. They were a stark contrast to Rowdy, one he was suddenly very thankful to Poppy for. Not that he was ready to feel thankful to her. Not yet.

She shook her head. “When Rose got cancer, everyone just sort of gave them what they wanted to try to cheer them up. Now nothing seems to really make them happy.”

Toben nodded. “She better?” he asked. “Your sister?”

“Yes, much better.”

“Cancer’s a bitch.” He paused, staring at Rowdy, then Poppy. “That just sort of slipped out.”

She nodded at him, her brow arching. “It happens. And, since we’re talking about cancer, I’m fine with it.”

He grinned.

“I’ll get you both some pie,” she offered, disappearing into the house before he could answer.

They all sat on the porch swing, enjoying Clara’s apple pie and the company.

“Can we visit tomorrow night?” Rowdy asked. “Beats sitting at home and watching them play video games.”

Toben looked at Poppy over Rowdy’s head. He saw the indecision on her face, the nervousness. What was she worrying over? Considering how quickly this had come to light, he thought he’d been handling things pretty well. But...it was new for them all. And if he was smart, he wouldn’t start pushing for more time with Rowdy. Yet.

“It’s an open invitation. All you have to do is call, Poppy. And thanks for dinner.” His voice was soft. “For this evening.” He meant it.

Her gaze met his then. He couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. She was damn beautiful—the mother of his son. A boy he was well on his way to loving. A boy she’d kept from him... His anger tightened his jaw, but her brown eyes held him captive. The longer he stared, the more her wariness faded. And in its place he caught a flash of the fiery woman he’d loved for one night. The woman he’d never quite gotten over.

Chapter Four

“What do you mean, he’s here?” Mitchell stared down at her, hands on his hips, wearing a dazed expression. Poppy had waited to share the news of Toben’s appearance until they were near the barn, away from the house and Rowdy.

She knew exactly what was going through his mind—Mitchell had that sort of face. One of the many reasons she’d never let him get pulled into a poker game: he’d lose his shirt. His openness was something Poppy had always respected about the man. That and his reliability.

“Does he live here?” Mitchell asked, tipping his cowboy hat back on his head. “I mean...hell, Poppy, are you okay with...this?”

“No.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She’d spent a lot of time wondering that same thing. How had she ended up here? Never in her wildest dreams had she thought they’d end up neighbors. But giving up on something—quitting—wasn’t in her. “I’m still reeling.”

Mitchell blew out a long, slow breath. “And Rowdy?” He shook his head. “After all this time he comes by with pie and wants to play house? I’m not a fightin’ man, but, damn, I’d like to knock that sonofabitch on his ass and—”

“Mitchell!” Rowdy came barreling down the fence line, all smiles.

“Still in your pj’s?” Mitchell squatted by her son, catching him in a hug. “Sleep good?”

Rowdy shook his head. “Couldn’t sleep. Dot and Otis were arguing over their game. And the house...makes noises.”

Poppy glanced back at the house. “We’ll set up the guest rooms today. That way you have your room to yourself and Mitchell’s not stuck on the couch, okay?” Since she couldn’t fix the noises right away—she needed to find a repairman. Soon.

Rowdy nodded, yawning widely. “Sounds like a plan, Ma.”

“How about some pancakes?” Mitchell asked. “I’m starved.”

“Not sure the stove can handle pancakes,” Poppy admitted. “Might not be a bad idea to replace most of the appliances in the place.”

“Saw a little restaurant on the square.” Mitchell glanced at his watch. “Bet we could get some breakfast grub before they stop serving. If you can find some clothes, of course.”

Rowdy’s head turned right, then left. “Okay, but where is—”

“They’re in the barn, Rowdy. Mitchell and I got them situated but you can go say hi real quick,” Poppy interrupted. “We’ll go for a ride after breakfast, okay?”

Rowdy dashed toward the barn, grinning. She was still smiling when she looked at Mitchell. In an instant her smile was gone. The man was staring at her, hard.

“What?” she asked, concerned.

“I don’t trust him,” he said, his voice low.

Poppy’s throat felt tight. She didn’t either.

“I’ve been with you and Rowdy through...everything. Don’t expect me to be all right with this asshole just showing up. Can’t do it.” He shook his head. “What’s his plan? What does he want?”

She stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm. “I don’t know. We haven’t exactly talked things through yet.” Something she’d rectify soon. She patted his arm. “For the record, I’m not fine with it either. But what can I do?”

He glanced at her, then at her hand on his arm.

She took a step back and shook her head. “I don’t like the look on your face, Mitchell Lee. So stop it. I’m going to wake my sister’s monsters so we can go eat.” She headed back toward the house, hoping Otis and Dot were already moving. They seemed to prefer staying up and sleeping in—the exact opposite of her and Rowdy’s schedule. “I thought you were coming in tonight,” she called back over her shoulder.