Coulda Been a Cowboy

“I’ve lived here my whole life.” Sometimes she thought she’d never escape….

“Have you ever considered moving away?”

“Every day.”

Her immediate and unqualified response seemed to surprise him. “You don’t like it?”

“Can you blame me? I’m working at the pharmacy making eight bucks an hour. The folks who own it are wonderful, don’t get me wrong. They’d pay me more if they could. But that isn’t what I always envisioned for my life.”

“So what’s keeping you?” he asked.

She laughed mirthlessly. “I’ll give you one guess.”

“That’s a pretty big sacrifice for someone who just bloodied your lip.”

It was her turn to avoid answering. “I’m going inside. I need to call the police and see what’s happened to him.”

“I’ve already talked to them.”

His words stopped her before she could reach the door, and she whipped around. “They called here? And you didn’t tell me?”

Putting his back to her, he sat on the front steps. “I contacted them.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see what we could work out,” he said over his shoulder.

Dakota had never had anyone step between her and her father before. Most people muttered that she was crazy to stick around, or they gave Skelton disgruntled looks for how he sometimes treated her. Which only made her situation worse, because she was always in the middle, trying to defend him. But this was the first time someone had contacted the police for something other than to complain about the noise. “And?” she asked hesitantly.

“We made a deal.”

“You didn’t think to discuss it with me first?” Anger put an edge to her voice.

He twisted to face her. “I can’t imagine you’ll have a problem with it. It’s the best possible solution, for everyone.”

Spoken like a true egotist. He thought it was best, so it must be best. But if he really had an answer, she was eager to hear it. She’d been searching for a way out of her current situation for years. “I’m waiting.”

“They said they’d overlook what happened tonight if you’d stay away from your father in the future.”

“How’s that a solution?” she cried. “I’m the one who takes care of him. Half the time he doesn’t eat unless I prepare his food. And we can’t afford two households.”

He stood up, leaned against the pillar that supported the porch and crossed his arms. “I hired the brother of one of the police officers—a Terrance Bennett—to look after him in the evenings and at night when you’d typically be off work.”

“You what?”

“I hired some help.”

“For how long?”

“For the next two months. That way, you can stay here. If the arrangement works, maybe you can even go back to California with me.”

Dakota was speechless, torn between gratitude that this man, who’d only hired her today, would be willing to help her to such a degree, pique that he’d interfered in her situation without consulting her and excitement to think she had the opportunity to go to California. How hard could it be to raise one baby who would never want for anything, while living in a mansion—maybe on the beach—with a professional football player? Think of the places she’d get to see, the people she might meet…

Her mind raced with the possibilities. But she couldn’t leave her father. He was her only family. The woman with the heavy Spanish accent who’d called her all of two times in the past ten years didn’t count. She was a complete stranger. And what if he died while she was gone?

She massaged her temples, hoping to relieve the headache that had started from the blow she’d sustained to her mouth. She couldn’t turn her back on her father now. She was all he had. “I’m sorry. I can’t leave Dundee. I have to stay with him.”

“I just told you he’ll have someone looking after him.”

“It won’t be the same. No one else really cares about him.”

Tyson moved close and tipped up her chin, making a point of studying her fat lip. “You have nothing here.”

She jerked away. “I have my self-respect. If I turned my back on the one person who really needs me, I wouldn’t even have that.”

She started into the house, but he caught her elbow. “If you go back, they’ll put him in jail. They’ve had it, Dakota. I spoke to Chief Clanahan myself.”

“They can’t. I’m fine, so there’s no need. And he’s sick.”

“That doesn’t mean they’ll keep putting up with his behavior. He could really hurt you, and then they’d be partially to blame because they didn’t stop him when they had the chance.”

Her head was pounding too hard to make such a difficult decision. “So what do I do?” she asked. She wasn’t really talking to him—it was more of a rhetorical question to herself—but he answered.

“Stay here for a couple weeks. You can go into town every afternoon if you want—check in on him, make sure the new guy is doing a good job, cook his dinner, whatever. The fact that you’re not living with him should mollify the police and your neighbors. Then…we’ll see where things go from there.”

The warmth of his fingers sank through the thin sleeve of her blouse, but she doubted he even knew he was still holding on to her. “Is this really about helping me?” she asked skeptically.

He glanced at the house. “I need you and you need me,” he said simply and let go.

He was talking about Braden. She could tell he wanted to leave it right there, but she couldn’t. Lowering her voice, she asked, “If you didn’t really want him, why’d you take him?”

He stared at some mysterious point over her shoulder for so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally he spoke. “I had no choice.”

“You could’ve left him with his mother.”

“Then I would’ve lost my self-respect,” he said and went inside.

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR woke Tyson early. He scowled, but then something became apparent to him that quickly countered his irritation at being disturbed before he was ready. He couldn’t hear any crying. Not one cursed peep.

He opened his eyes and lay still for a moment, holding his breath.

Yep, no crying.

“God that feels good.” Rolling over, he started drifting off to sleep again when a second knock reminded him that someone was at his door.

“Come in.” His voice was muffled by a pillow, but Dakota must’ve heard him because the door opened, and she poked her head in. “You have a phone call.”

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I do?”