Cowboy at the Crossroads

It seemed to be a statement Nicki routinely used to get her way. Her room was where she could grieve in peace—but that wasn’t happening anymore. Becca would insist on it.

They ate at the kitchen table. Della had prepared hamburgers, homemade French fries and cut-up fruit. Just like last night, Becca didn’t force Nicki to eat; she filled Nicki’s plate and cut the hamburger into four pieces so she could eat it easily. She poured lots of ketchup on her plate, then left Nicki alone and started on her own food.

“This burger is absolutely delicious,” she said as she took a bite.

“Triple Creek beef. It’s the best,” Della told her.

“It certainly is,” Becca agreed. “So you eat the beef raised here on the ranch?”

“Sure do,” Cord said. “I won’t sell something to a consumer that I won’t eat myself.”

Beef was something Becca got at the supermarket, not something in her yard. Or was that pasture? She didn’t think she could possibly eat a cow she was personally acquainted with. But if she said that, Cord would laugh. She was a city girl, not used to country ways. Didn’t mean she couldn’t learn, though.

“Do you have a lot of cows?”

“Sometimes more than I want.”

“I’ve never even touched a cow.”

Cord raised his head. “You’re kidding.”

“No, like I said, I was raised on the coast. I’ve touched plenty of fish, but I’ve never even been near a cow.”

A smile curved his lips. “We’ll have to change that—give you a close-up view.”

As they talked, Nicki started to eat her burger and nibble on the fruit. Cord looked at Becca and smiled. They were making progress, and she was warmed by that light in his eyes.

Della placed a bowl of chocolate pudding on the table.

“Look, Becca, it’s chocolate,” Nicki said with her mouth full of fruit.

“So I see.” Becca grinned and spooned some into their bowls.

Nicki stuck her finger in hers, then glanced guiltily at Cord.

“It’s okay, baby, you can eat it any way you want,” he assured her.

Which she did. She got it on her face, her clothes and the table. Finally Becca took Nicki upstairs to wash her and change her outfit. The child was falling asleep. Staying up had taken its toll, and now she needed a nap. Becca carefully laid her in bed, covering her with a sheet.

Cord was waiting for her outside the door. Her stomach tightened as she encountered him—his tall lean frame, his rugged features and dark eyes. Funny how her body reacted to him.

“Thanks, Becca. I didn’t think I was gonna survive after this morning. She fought me every step of the way. She doesn’t seem to do that with you.”

“She knows you’ll give in,” Becca said as they walked downstairs to the den.

“Yeah, but it’s so hard to discipline a child when you know she’s hurting.”

“It’ll get better.”

“With you here, I know it will. You have a magic touch with her.”

“Thank you” was all she could say.

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Cord said, “I’d better get back to work. I’ve got hay being baled and calves that need vaccinating. I’ll see you later.” He turned, then stopped. “Oh, Mrs. Witherspoon asked if she could have some time off to go see her sister, who’s not feeling well. I said I’d have to ask you.”

Becca shrugged, amazed that he was clearing this with her. “Sure, as long as Nicki knows she’s coming back.”

“Good.” He nodded and left the room.

BECCA WAS ABOUT TO SIT DOWN in the den, when Blanche breezed in, wearing yet another skintight knit dress.

“I see you’ve arrived, sugar.”

“Yes,” Becca said curtly, not wanting a scene with Blanche.

Blanche looked at herself in a mirror on the wall and fluffed her hair, then she turned to Becca. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she said coolly. “This is my house and I’ve agreed to let you stay here for Nicki’s sake. Cord seems to think you can help her, but at the first sign of trouble, your ass is out of here.”

“Okay, Blanche,” Becca replied in an equally cool voice. “You want to be straight? I will, too. First of all, I do not need a place to stay. I have my own apartment. I’m at the ranch to help Nicki—that’s it. You keep referring to trouble, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about my boys, sugar. Cord and Colton.”

“So?”

“You have to be incredibility naive or just plain stupid. Colton’s has been seeing you for years and now you’re here with Cord.”

Becca drew a patient breath. “I am not here with Cord, and Colton and I are just friends.”

“Sugar, if I know anything, it’s men and women, and they can never be friends. There isn’t any such animal when it comes to the sexes.”

“Then, you don’t know your son because—”

“Oh, please,” Blanche interrupted sarcastically. “Colton’s been hanging around you all these years for one reason and one reason only. He wants you.”

Was that true? She remembered how uncomfortable Colton had been when she’d brought the subject up this morning. She also remembered that he’d said he knew she didn’t have “those feelings” for him. Oh God, that meant he did have “those feelings”—for her. All these years, and they’d never talked about it until today. They’d always been thrown together at family events, gone to movies and out for dinner, enjoyed each other’s company. Maybe she was naive, because Gin saw Colton’s attraction to her, and so did Blanche. Why hadn’t she done something about it? Because they were friends and she didn’t want to lose that friendship. Now what? She didn’t know. Well…yes, she did. She simply had to let go of Colton so he could find the woman of his dreams. That woman was out there; it just wasn’t her.

“I can see you know what I’m talking about,” Blanche murmured.

Becca raised a hand to her throbbing head. “Blanche, it may be hard for you to believe, but Colton and I are friends. I met Cord at the funeral, and I saw him yesterday for the first time in a year. There’s nothing going on between us. I hardly know him. As I already told you, I’m here to help his daughter. Nothing else.”

“You’re lying to me, sugar, and you’re lying to yourself. And I don’t think you even know it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Last night when I walked into this room, I saw the way you were looking at Cord and the way he was looking at you. There was enough electricity to jump-start Hoover Dam.”

“Don’t—”

“No, you listen to me,” Blanche cut in. “Cord hasn’t looked at a woman in over a year, so don’t take those glances seriously. He just needs what all men need, and it has nothing to do with those fairy tales in your head.”