Sheri WhiteFeather - Coming Home to a Cowboy

Kade couldn’t have been more amused. “I appreciate you cleaning up for me. Now your mom doesn’t have to break her neck.”

“Or curse like a sailor,” Cody reminded him.

“That, too.” Kade sat in the chair at the desk, turning it around to face the bed.

Cody leaned forward and asked, “Do you like to draw?”

“Actually, I do.” Of all the questions so far, it was one of the easiest to answer. “I majored in equine science in college. But I also took some art classes, just for my own enjoyment.”

“Wow. That’s so cool. I love to draw. Mostly comic book–type stuff. I even make my own comic books. What kind of art do you do?”

“I like to sketch landscapes and wildlife and things like that. Horses, too, of course.” Kade quickly asked, “Do you think I could see some of your work?”

“Sure.” Cody bobbed up and riffled through the shelves, producing a stack of comic books he’d made.

As Kade paged through them, he was more than impressed. Cody was a fine little artist. The superheroes he created were down-home guys, fishermen and horsemen who got their powers from taking secret trips to Mars. There was even a farmer who glowed in the dark and flew around on a bullet-shaped tractor.

“These are excellent,” Kade said.

“Thanks.” The kid beamed. “I won an art contest at my school last year.”

“I’m not surprised. You could make a living at this someday.” Kade noticed that one of the comic books featured superhero Natives who lived on a space-aged reservation. “Did you know that I’m part Cheyenne?”

“Yep. Mom told me. She always wanted me to know who I was and where I came from. She was just worried that you traveled too much and wouldn’t be around like a dad should be.”

Kade supposed that this was a conversation that needed to happen, especially since Cody was a no-holds-barred type of kid. “I like being on the road and traveling for my work, but it’s not going to stop me from being your father. You’re my priority now that I know about you.”

“Mom’s dad just went away one day and never came back.”

“I know. She told me about him. But I’m never going to do that to you.”

“You better not, or Mom will kill you.”

Cody’s warning sounded quite serious. But Kade already knew it was no joking matter. “I won’t do anything to hurt either of you.”

“I trust you.” The boy drew his knees up. “But Mom isn’t going to be so easy on you. I heard girls are like that, though.”

“They can be. Or so I’ve heard, as well.” Kade wasn’t an authority on the opposite sex. “Is there a girl you like at school?”

“No.” Cody said it with disgust or embarrassment or whatever it was that was going on in his young mind. Then he asked, “Do you still like my mom?”

Now, that was a loaded question if there ever was one, but he did his best to supply a ready answer. “I still think she’s sweet and pretty. And I’m hoping that she and I will become friends again.”

“It’s taking her a long time to get our snack. But she’s probably being slow on purpose to give us time to talk.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” And talking they were. Important subjects were being bandied about. “I brought a gift for you. It’s out in my truck, but I’d rather give it to you while your mom is here, so we’ll wait for her.”

“Really? You got something for me? I can hurry Mom up. I can tell her to get cracking.”

“No, that’s okay. Let’s just—”

Too late. Cody was already at the doorway yelling, “Mom! Hurry up! Dad has a present for me!”

Kade had a lot to learn, apparently. Such as not mentioning a gift before you planned on giving it.

Bridget appeared soon enough, carrying a tray with diced apples, cheddar cheese, chocolate-chip cookies and two frosty glasses of milk. “So you told him that you brought him something?”

“Yep. And he doesn’t want to wait.”

She placed the tray on the dresser. “You should see him on Christmas morning.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Come on, you guys,” Cody said. “Let’s get this done. Otherwise I’ll be too anxious to eat the snack.”

Kade looked to Bridget for guidance, and she nodded her acquiescence. Cody had won both the cookie and the get-me-my-present battle, even with his supposedly strict mother.

“I’ll go out to my truck now,” Kade said. As he left the room, he felt Bridget and their son watching him, knowing darn well they were going to talk about him after he was gone.

* * *

Bridget sat next to Cody on the bed, and he sent her an excited smile.

“Dad is so awesome, Mom. He likes to draw and everything. He even took art classes in college. He thinks I could make a living with my comic books someday. Oh, and he promised he’d never go away and not come back. You were wrong about him. He’s not the same as your dad.”

“I’m glad you like him.” But she’d expected as much. Cody already had been building a preconceived notion of his father as a hero, and all Bridget could do was keep hoping and praying that Kade didn’t let him down.

“Did he tell you what my present is?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Do you think he’ll bring me something every time he visits?”

“I have no idea. But this isn’t about getting gifts.”

“I know. I was just asking what you thought. I asked him if he still likes you, and he said he still thinks you’re sweet and pretty. He wants to be friends with you again.”

She wished Cody hadn’t brought her into it. She was already feeling the heat of being near Kade, of being far too attracted to him. Thinking of him as a friend wasn’t on her radar, but she knew it should be that way, especially for Cody’s sake.

Kade returned with a medium-size box. He hadn’t wrapped it, though, not like Bridget’s dad used to do with her gifts.

He placed it on the bed next to Cody. “Here you go.”

Their son clutched it with glee. “Can I shake it first?”

“Sure. Go ahead.” Kade smiled as he stood beside the dresser, looking tall and dark and cowboy delicious.

Bridget warned herself not to gaze at him with stars in her eyes. She wasn’t a twenty-year-old girl anymore. She’d grown up since then.

Cody shook the heck out of the box, but nothing rattled. He got up and went to his desk and grabbed a pair of scissors.

“Be careful,” Bridget said as he attacked the tape on the box.

“I know, Mom, I know.” He glanced at Kade as if to say women , making her wonder if the temperament of females had been part of their father/son discussion.

Cody got the box open and tore away the packing material. The gift itself was another box, only it was made of aluminum.

“It’s a time capsule,” Kade said. “You’re supposed to put things in that are important to you. Artifacts from your life that you’d want historians to uncover years and years from now. Then you bury it someplace safe. You can even register it online with the company I bought it from so you never forget where you buried it.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much.” Cody was over the moon. “Check this out, Mom. A time capsule.”

Bridget figured that Cody would be excited regardless of what it was, simply because it had come from his dad. But she was impressed by what an unusual gift it was. “That was a very clever idea, Kade.”

He replied, “I made one myself when I was about Cody’s age. It was just a coffee can with a plastic lid, so there was no way it was going to stand the test of time. But I didn’t know that then.”

Cody was all ears, listening to his dad’s tale, and so was Bridget, caught in the fascination of it all.

He continued the story. “I got my brother, Tanner, involved. He would have been about seven at the time. I told him to gather up some things so we could put everything in the time capsule together.”