Glynna Kaye - Pine Country Cowboy

“Who’s Elmo?” She doubted a Sesame Street character had accompanied Brett but, if the sudden onslaught of barking was any indication, she could almost guess the answer.

“His black Lab. He and Camy are best friends.” Davy stood up. “Look at her. She’s going crazy to get out of her pen.”

Abby moved to the door once more, then looked up at the wall clock. Seven-fifteen. The neighbors probably loved the canine serenade, but the two young dogs did seem particularly pleased to see each other, tongues lolling as they cavorted on either side of Camy’s enclosure.

“Sit down and eat, Davy. You can’t be late for school.”

“I don’t want to go to school.” But he nevertheless slumped back into his chair. “Nobody would miss me if I stayed home and played with Camy, Elmo and Brett today.”

She again returned to the stove and dished up a bowl of oatmeal, then set it in front of him. “There are three more days of school left and these last days before summer vacation are always the most fun. I doubt Brett and Elmo will be here long. It looks like he’s dropping off a ladder for your dad.”

Davy didn’t look convinced.

They were finishing breakfast—Davy had only to eat his banana and he’d be done—when a knock came at the back door off the utility room.

“Brett!” Davy jumped up, but she reached out to stay him.

“Sit down, please. I’ll get it. You just eat.” Meg and Joe were trusting her with Davy. She couldn’t allow him to be tardy on the one day she saw him off to school. Not surprisingly, when she opened the door Brett stood on the back porch, hat in hand.

To her irritation, her heart beat faster at the sight of his cheerful smile.

“Mornin’, ma’am. Sorry for the ruckus a bit ago. I guess the pups were happy to see each other.”

“I got that impression, too, as I’m sure the neighbors did, as well.”

His eyes sparked with amusement. “I thought I’d better stop by and give you warning that Elmo and I’ll be around the property painting Joe’s garage today.”

Didn’t he have a job at the equine center? “So your dog’s good with a paintbrush?”

A dimple surfaced. “Probably as good as I am, sad to say.”

She glanced over his shoulder toward the building in question. Joe hadn’t mentioned Brett would be doing handyman work. From where she stood, the garage didn’t look like it needed paint. But what did she know? “So, you’re telling me this will be a ‘pardon me, ma’am’ day?”

He cocked his head in question.

“That’s what my mother calls it when you have a repairman popping in and out interrupting you. You know, pardon me ma’am but may I borrow a wrench? May I use your restroom? May I have a drink of water?”

Brett grinned. “I shouldn’t need any wrenches.”

But he’d be underfoot all day. She glanced again at the garage. Did it truly need sprucing up? “It’s nice of you to paint Joe’s garage.”

His eyes twinkled. “Not really. He’s paying me.”

Should she invite him in? Offer a cup of coffee to start his day? She couldn’t afford to have him engage Davy in lengthy conversation and risk making him late for school.

“Do you want my banana, Brett?” Davy called from the kitchen table, just out of the cowboy’s line of vision.

Brett’s amused gaze momentarily caught hers, then he called back. “Thanks. But I’ve had breakfast. That banana’s all yours.”

“I don’t like bananas.”

Great. He’d kept quiet about that.

“This one has legs, too.”

Brett raised a brow and she nodded.

“And eyes,” Davy added.

As Brett’s disbelieving gaze questioned her, Abby sighed and stepped back from the open door. “Come on in. You may as well see for yourself.”

Chapter Five

Brett toed off his boots outside the door. He’d been briefly to Duffy’s that morning only long enough to feed Cinnabar and didn’t want to track anything untoward into the house. But from the look on Abby’s face, it was clear he’d only been invited to step inside because of Davy’s bidding and he’d better not plan to linger long.

Following her trim, jeans-clad figure into the kitchen, he got the impression she preferred the events of her day to be well-ordered, like library books categorized by the Dewey decimal system. She was probably one of those who had her own personal reading materials grouped by author or subject and probably had them inventoried on a spreadsheet that noted publishers and copyright dates. While he was an avid reader, his books were stacked in no particular order wherever he found empty space. Dresser top. Back of the closet. Corner of the living room floor.

“See?” Davy pointed to an arch-backed banana with toothpick legs and raisin feet, then he poked the milk glass straw in his mouth and took a long swallow. “Aunt Abby made him.”

Brett placed his hat atop the refrigerator, then pulled out a chair from the table. He whipped it around backward, straddling it and crossing his arms along the back. A smile twitched as he took in the colorful breakfast trappings. “That’s some critter you have there. I’m impressed.”

“You can have it.” Davy scooted the plate toward him, then glanced at Abby. “I already ate the smiley-face toast and oatmeal. Do I have to eat the banana, too, Aunt Abby?”

She glanced up at the clock, a crease forming across her brow. “No, that’s okay. I didn’t know you didn’t care for bananas. You need to let me know what you like and don’t like so I don’t fix things you won’t eat.”

If he’d had any doubts before, that nailed it. Leaving a door open like that labeled her an amateur when it came to kid dealings. He could almost see Davy’s mind whirling. Likes: ice cream, hot dogs, pizza, French fries. Dislikes: spinach, green beans, peas—and bananas.

The boy pushed the banana plate closer to Brett. “My mom is going to have a baby.”

“So I heard.”

“I think everybody’s having babies, like at church and the grocery store and stuff. You can tell because the moms get big, big, big.” That matter-of-fact wisdom shared, Davy drank down the remainder of his milk before setting the glass onto the table with a clunk. “I’ll be right back, Brett. I have to brush my teeth. It’s a school day.”

The boy scrambled to his feet, then dashed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

With a grin, Brett reached for the leggy banana. “Observant kid. I have to admit it does seem like every other woman in town is in a family way. A Canyon Springs population explosion.”

Unfortunately, for the past few days every time he saw one of those moms-to-be, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the nine months he and Melynda had eagerly awaited the arrival of their precious Jeremy.

Abby glanced at him uncertainly. “You don’t have to eat the banana if you don’t want to.”

He studied it for a moment, the beady, unblinking eyes almost appearing to look back at him. “I think I’ll give it a try. I’ve never eaten anything quite like this. Special occasion?”

She shrugged, looking a tad sheepish. “I was trying to start Davy’s day on a bright note. He misses his mom, and Joe didn’t get to stay long yesterday.”

“I’d heard Meg’s return was delayed, that she’d probably be released this afternoon.”

Surprise lit Abby’s eyes. No doubt she didn’t yet recognize the effectiveness of the Canyon Springs grapevine.

“That’s what we’re hoping,” she said almost cautiously. “Her doctors want to keep an eye on her awhile longer.”

“Whatever it takes to ensure a safe delivery.” He pulled the toothpick legs from the banana and placed them on the edge of the plate, then motioned toward a chair at the table. “Have a seat, Aunt Abby.”