Joanna Wayne - Unrepentant Cowboy

“I heard about that. Your mother emailed a picture of you in the saddle. She said you were becoming a full-fledged cowgirl.”

“Not so much a cowgirl, but I like horseback riding.”

“So do I, though I haven’t done much of it lately. Who stays with you when your mother is away?”

“If she’s on a short trip, you know, less than a week, then she usually lets me stay with my friend Betts—not that I need a babysitter.” Try telling that to her mother.

“And when it’s a long trip, like this one?” he questioned.

“Grandma and Granddad drive down from Portland. They dropped me off at the airport before they drove home today.”

“How are your grandparents?”

“Grandma’s doing fine. Granddad’s having problems with his arthritis. He can’t get around as well as he used to.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She was tempted to bring up her other grandparent now, but she decided to wait. As her mother always said, timing was everything. And she couldn’t risk any problems with her plan.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I could eat. All they gave us on the plane was peanuts. They were selling sandwiches, but they looked as lousy as some of that stuff they pass off for food in the school cafeteria.”

“I can order pizza. You do still like pizza, don’t you?”

“Sure. As long as it doesn’t have weird stuff on it like asparagus or pineapple.”

“No way. I’m talking real pizza. Pepperoni, sausage, extra cheese, the works. But first we should probably call your mother and let her know you arrived safely.”

“I texted her when the plane landed and told her I’d made it to Dallas.”

“You should have called me from the airport. I would have picked you up myself or sent a car for you.”

“I called your office. They said you were in court so I took a taxi.”

“How did you get inside the building?”

“Easy. When the driver let me out, I dashed for the awning over the front door and just walked into the building with a woman who was fighting to close her umbrella in the wind. I figured if you weren’t here, I’d try calling your cell phone.”

“Thankfully, I came straight home from the courthouse. I got here a few minutes before you.” He took a phone from his pocket and ordered the pizza.

Effie looked around a bit more. There were several framed photographs sitting around of her and her dad together. Guess that meant he didn’t totally forget her when she was out of sight.

One of the photos was of him holding her in his arms when she was a baby. At least she guessed that was her. Another was of her holding his hand, a pair of Mickey Mouse ears propped on her head, the Disneyland sign in the background. Both of those had to have been taken long before the divorce.

The other photos included a shot of the two of them in the surf on Oahu and another with them zip-lining over a Puerto Rican rainforest. She remembered both of those trips well. Trips were okay, but she’d felt as if she were traveling with some big-shot stranger.

“You should slip into some dry clothes,” he said. “I can throw those in the washer for you.”

“Sure.” Stupid washing machine was probably so fancy he didn’t trust her to use it.

“I’ll show you to the guest room. There are clean sheets on the bed and clean towels in the adjoining bathroom. There’s also a guest robe in the closet if you want to get comfortable.”

Like they were going to spend a kick-back night together. He picked up her bags, and she followed him to a room that looked like it belonged in one of those Scottish castles they’d visited last Christmas. She couldn’t imagine throwing her jeans across the pristine white love seat or kicking out of her shoes and flopping onto a bed covered in a silk coverlet and piled down with designer-coordinated pillows.

“Has anyone ever slept in here?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted. “The room has never been used. Saving the christening for you.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“A little over a year. I was hoping I could persuade you to come here for Christmas vacation, but this is even better. It will be my best Thanksgiving in years.”

Her father set her bags down and opened the closet. “I can get more hangers if you need them.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t bring any dresses. My jeans and T-shirts are just fine folded.” And if things went as planned, she wouldn’t be here long enough to unpack or to spill a soft drink all over his expensive coverlet.

He opened the top drawer in a tall chest. “When do you have to fly back to California?”

“I have a flight for Sunday afternoon.”

“Great. That gives us almost a full week for me to show you Dallas—unless you’d rather go somewhere else for Thanksgiving. It’s late to set up a long trip, but there are some great dude ranches within a few hours of here. We can go horseback riding and hiking and toast s’mores around a campfire.”

Now they were getting somewhere. She hadn’t planned on rocking the boat quite so soon, but she was never going to get a better opening than this. She took a deep breath and took the plunge.

“I’ve been to dude ranches in California. They’re fun, but kinda corny. What I’d really like to do is visit a real working Texas ranch.”

“I can probably work that out. One of the attorneys in our firm has a spread in the Hill Country and he’s been trying to get me to come up for a long weekend. I’ll give him a call while we’re waiting on the pizza.”

“No.” The protest flew from her mouth before she could stop it. If she wasn’t careful, this would get out of hand. She didn’t want to go to just any ranch. “Why not visit the Dry Gulch Ranch?” she asked. “It’s only an hour from Dallas.”

From the look on her dad’s face, you’d think she’d just suggested they visit the devil himself. Her mother had warned her it would be like this.

“How do you know about the Dry Gulch Ranch?”

“I got a letter from my grandfather.”

Her father’s face turned a fierce shade of red. “R.J. wrote to you?”

“It was just a note, Dad. No big deal.”

“What did he write?”

“The basics. He said he was getting old and his health isn’t so good. He’s got a brain tumor. He said you knew about that. Anyway, he wants to meet me before he dies, so he invited me to his ranch.”

“Oh, he did, did he? Did you show your mother that note?”

“I did. She said that was between me, you and my grandfather.”

“It would have been nice if she’d prepared me for this.”

“R. J. Dalton is my grandfather. I don’t see why you’re getting so freaked out about my wanting to meet him.”

“I’ll tell you why. R.J. has never been a part of my life. He’s my father by blood only.”

“Blood is thicker than water, they say.”

Her dad was clearly not amused. “Did you answer R.J.’s note?”

“Yes,” she said, seeing no reason to lie about it. “I’ve written him several times. We have a lot in common.”

“Like what?”

“He’s into horses. So am I, and I’d really like to visit the Dry Gulch Ranch and meet him and the horses.”

Her dad looked as if he was ready to throw her back out into the storm. “That explains why you’re here in Dallas.”

She couldn’t deny that. “I told him I’d spend Thanksgiving with him. I thought we could both go. I mean, if your father’s dying, don’t you want to at least go say goodbye?”

“We said our goodbyes years ago. His choice.”

Kind of like he had when he’d moved out of the house and then across the country, ripping her life apart in the process. But she wasn’t there to deal with that, not when she needed him to take her side against her well-meaning mother.