Falling for the Cowboy Dad Page 13

  “One more time,” he said, turning back to the cards.

  “Billy—”

  “Once more,” he said with a sigh. “Please. Let me try, at least.”

  Poppy came over to his table, her own page in her hand. She leaned against Billy’s arm, watching him as he moved his finger over the letters in the word.

  “Daddy?” Poppy whispered.

  “Yeah, kiddo?”

  “An odd number plus an odd number is always an even number. I’ve tried it and tried it and tried it. It’s just how it works.”

  Billy stopped and looked over at her. Those big blue eyes regarded him earnestly.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “It’s true.”

  He glanced over at Grace and saw her eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s true, Poppy,” she said. “What made you realize that?”

  “I was just thinking about it,” she replied.

  So his daughter could pick up on some mathematical insights just by thinking, and he was struggling to recognize a simple word on a page. It hardly seemed fair. It wasn’t that he wanted his daughter to have the same challenges he did, but the gulf between them was almost insulting.

  Billy rubbed his hands over his eyes and leaned back in the chair.

  “You know what, Gracie?” he said. “I think you’re right. Let’s take that break.”

  “Billy—” she started, but he scraped back the chair and stood up, and she fell silent.

  “Daddy?” Poppy looked up at him, worry creasing that small brow.

  “I think it’s time for dinner, kiddo,” he said, forcing a smile. “Burgers and sundaes for Miss Beverly’s birthday. What do you say?”

  Poppy was easily convinced and skipped toward the door. Billy looked over at Grace and shrugged.

  “Tough day,” he said. “Let’s celebrate you for a bit, instead.”

  For as long as it lasted, anyway. Here was hoping Poppy didn’t have a repeat of their last night out. It was Grace’s birthday. This shouldn’t be about his failures, anyway. There were things he was good at—like roping cattle and helping Grace Beverly relax. He might not be much in the intellectual department, but he could be a solid friend for as long as Grace would let him.

  And he’d be a good dad—whether he could read to his daughter or not.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THEY STOPPED AT a fast-food place, and when they’d all finished eating, Poppy seemed perfectly happy to add up lists of numbers on the back of her placemat. Grace watched in fascination. She’d started by using one of the crayons that came in a little paper cup, but the crayon wrote too big, Poppy said, so Grace dug a pen out of her purse.

  “And then if there are two even numbers and one odd number all added up, the answer is odd,” Poppy went on. “And then if there are four even numbers and two odd numbers, the answer is even...”

  Grace looked over at Billy and they exchanged a smile.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised to see her figuring out the physics of sledding,” Grace said.

  “What’s physics?” Poppy asked, looking up.

  “Physics is a whole other kettle of fish,” Billy said. “What you should be asking about is that sled in the back of the truck. Ready to give it a try?”

  Eagle’s Rest Junior High was located at the top of a hill. There was still daylight, even though the shadows were getting long and the air temperature had begun to drop. Grace stood back as he rummaged around in the back of his truck, emerging with a red plastic sled. It was new, with the stickers still on it.

  Poppy danced around in excitement, and they trudged together through the unbroken mantle of snow up the hill. Funny—it looked smaller now that she was an adult. Back then it had seemed like a mountain.

  But everything back then was bigger and more impressive. They’d been so young, and their hearts so much easier to fill. It took more to fill her heart now, more to impress her and satisfy her. A handsome man wasn’t enough, nor a close friendship. Flirtation, soaring feelings...they might be fun, but they were a waste of time. No, her heart required more now—steadiness, consistency, depth.

  But seeing that hill through Poppy’s wide eyes brought back all the drama from years ago, and as Poppy stared down the hill, she stilled, clasping her mittened hands together in front of her.

  “Here, Poppy,” Billy said, dropping the sled onto the soft, snowy ground with a plop. “Sit here.” He scooped her up under the arms and sat her on the sled. “You ready?”

  “Yes!” Poppy breathed.

  “Hold on tight, okay?” Billy said, and he gave her a gentle push.

  The snow being fresh, she didn’t go too fast down the hill, and they could hear her delighted laughter as she made her way down. Grace looked over at Billy and caught the glimmer of paternal pride in his eye.

  “A first sled ride,” Grace said with a grin. “That’s something!”

  He laughed. Poppy had just reached the bottom of the hill, and she tumbled off the sled.

  “Okay, Poppy, come back up!” Billy called. “But around the side—that’s right. You need to build up a slippery path down the hill so you go faster next time!”

  Poppy started up the hill, eyes shining and snow coating her mittens and hat. The sun had started to sink behind the mountains, and a shadow began enveloping the hills below. There was still enough light to sled by, and the school’s exterior lights popped on. Poppy went up and down a few more times on her own, tramping up the side of the hill and going down her track, which got faster and faster every time. Billy went down with her a couple of times, too, and after he got back to the top, Poppy squealed for more.

  “Come on, Daddy!” she pleaded.

  “No, no...you do this one,” Billy said, and he got her settled on her sled once more, then gave her a push. Down she went, laughter trailing behind her, along with her rippling scarf.

  “I should have bought a bigger sled. Or two of them,” he said, grinning at Grace.

  “Yeah, I might keep up with four-year-olds, but I’m not quite as bendy as I used to be,” she laughed.

  “I missed you, Gracie,” Billy said, his voice lowering. “I missed...this. Just doing stuff together. No pressure.”

  “I know.”

  “Was it Tracy? Because she had a real mean streak. Did she make it clear...?”

  Grace tugged her scarf a little closer to her neck.

  “No, the problem was me,” Grace replied. “Look, Billy, I’m not sure any good can come of talking about this.”

  “Well...maybe I need to know,” Billy replied.

  “It’s...” She felt her cheeks heat, and down the hill, Poppy tumbled off her sled and tramped a few circles in the snow at the bottom.

  “Did I do something?” Billy asked. “I mean, I know that Tracy and I started up pretty quickly. I thought you understood. I figured... I don’t know. I just thought you’d be happy for me. You were the one who introduced us, after all.”

  “Thrilled,” she said dryly.

  “What?” he demanded. “I don’t get it! We were friends. We were supposed to be happy for each other when good things happened. That wasn’t supposed to end our friendship!”

  “It was all cozy and fun for you!” she snapped. “You had everything you wanted. The friend to hang out with, the support when you needed it, the women falling over themselves to be with you because they thought you were so cute—”

  “Except for you,” he said with a teasing smile. “You always knew you were too good for me.”

  Grace sucked in a breath, then fell silent. Her face felt flushed, and she turned her gaze to the bottom of the hill, where Poppy stood up from making a snow angel. She waved up at them, and Grace waved back, forcing a smile. Poppy started up the hill toward them, her sled in tow.

  “What was I missing?” he pressed. “Becaus
e I was there for you, too. I picked you up after work when I was off, and we’d go to the movies. I didn’t let more than a day go by without us talking. I was the one who knew your birthday, your favorite ice cream, the songs that made you feel sad, the stuff you hated about our town, the dreams you had for the future... I was a good friend!”

  “Exactly,” she said softly. “You were a great friend.”

  Billy was silent, his expression softening.

  “A fantastic buddy,” she went on. “And I was just as stupid as those other women who were groveling after you, maybe more. I had a good thing with you, but I wanted more...”

  “You...” The word came out in a breath, and he stared at her, dark eyes moving over her face, inch by inch, as if looking for a chink in her armor. A smile flickered as if he thought she were joking, but then it dropped away.

  “Was there a guy I didn’t know about...?” he started.

  Tracy had said what she wanted plainly, and Grace had always held back... Maybe it was time to stop that.

  “I wanted more with you.” The words were so quiet, that she almost wished he wouldn’t hear them. But he froze, and she couldn’t read his expression anymore.

  “It’s nothing,” she went on hurriedly. “Obviously I don’t feel that way anymore, but back then... I harbored a bit of a crush.”

  “You wanted—”

  “Billy, it was a long time ago,” she said firmly. “But that’s what happened. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t Tracy. I just...needed space. So I took it.”

  Grace forced herself to meet his gaze. He looked mildly confused, a little surprised.

  “I didn’t know,” he said softly.

  “I know. That wasn’t your fault. There comes a point in every woman’s life when she realizes that her hopes and dreams aren’t going to come find her like the prince with Sleeping Beauty. She’s got to go out there and make the life she longs for. When you left, I finally did that. I am doing that. So don’t worry—I’m good. I’m fine. I’m happy, even. This actually has less to do with you than you’d think. This is about what I want out of life.”

  Poppy arrived at the top of the hill, breathing hard. Her hat was askew, and the cold wind had reddened the tip of her nose.

  “Miss Beverly, you want to come down with me?” she asked, eyes bright.

  That seemed like an excellent escape. Grace had just said more than she’d ever planned to, but Billy looked like he wanted to talk more.

  “All right,” Grace said. “But I haven’t done this in a long time, so you’ve got to go easy on me, okay?”

  She knocked the snow out of the sled, then lowered herself onto it, behind Poppy.

  “Daddy, push us!” Poppy hollered.

  Grace felt Billy’s strong hands on her shoulders, and he bent down so his face was next to hers. She could smell the musky scent of his aftershave, and she kept her face forward. She’d told him those feelings were in the past, and she was going to act like it.

  “I still want to talk,” Billy murmured next to her ear, low and deep. If only his voice didn’t make her stomach flutter like that. Then he gave her a push, and they were off.

  * * *

  BILLY’S MIND WAS swimming as he watched Grace and Poppy swoop down the hill. Grace’s laughter mingled with his daughter’s, and it filtered back up to him at the top of the hill. She wanted more with him? As in...romance?

  He’d never once suspected that Grace felt anything but friendship for him...or had he just been oblivious? Maybe he’d been a selfish jerk, monopolizing her time and leading her on.

  But that wasn’t fair. He and Grace had been close. That friendship had meant a whole lot to him, and when she’d cut him off and stopped taking his calls, it had felt like a breakup. They weren’t an item, but it definitely hurt like being dumped.

  Grace and Poppy were heading back up the hill again, and he sucked in a stabilizing breath of frigid air. They were here for Poppy tonight, and talking to Grace would just have to wait. Besides, he had a feeling that he was about to find out just how selfish he’d been all those years.

  Soon Poppy was getting cold and tired. He could see her eyes drooping when she blinked, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  “You’re going to sleep well tonight,” he said to her, and she looked up at him blearily.

  “I’m not tired.”

  “Of course not.” He shot Grace a grin, and she smiled ruefully in return. And that moment—the shared knowledge that Poppy was far more tired than she thought—felt good. Sharing a parenting moment with Grace made it all easier, somehow. But was that more of the same—him getting everything he needed out of their relationship, at her expense?

  “So, how does thirty feel?” Billy asked as he put the truck into gear.

  “For once, it feels different.”

  “Yeah, for me, too,” he admitted. He was a few months older than she was. “Mind you, I’m a dad now, so that factors in.”

  “It would.” At the mention of Poppy, Grace glanced over her shoulder, into the back seat. “She’s nodding off.”

  “Are you crashing on me, kiddo?” Billy asked, adjusting the rearview mirror to look back. Poppy’s head had tipped to the side in her booster seat, and her breath was coming slow and even. “I guess we tired her out.”

  Grace was silent, looking out the window so that he couldn’t make out her expression. Billy drove for another couple of blocks, taking the familiar streets without much thought. Three years away hadn’t erased muscle memory when it came to navigating Eagle’s Rest’s roads.

  “Grace, I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he started.

  “Don’t.”

  “No, seriously,” he said. “I thought that we were on the same page. I figured you had plans well beyond me. I mean, look at me! I’m the high school dropout. You’re the doctor’s daughter.”

  “That sort of thing never stopped you before,” she said, then clamped her mouth shut.

  “You’re a level above me,” he told her. “And... I knew that. You’re smart—obviously. You had your life together. You had your shiny, happy family, with your parents, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles from the city... You had a future. I had—” he looked over at her “—I had my charm. So yeah, I know the effect I had on women. I knew I could make them feel all sorts of things, but I also knew that I couldn’t make any of that last.”

  “Don’t give me pity explanations,” Grace said, her tone hardening. “I don’t need them. I told you, it’s fine. I’m well past it.”

  And that stung—that she was most definitely over him.

  “This isn’t pity,” he said quietly. “The one thing I always thought I could count on was my friendship with you. I figured I could make that one last, at the very least. I guess I was wrong.”

  Grace looked over at him, her earlier rigidity softening. “I’ve learned a lot the last three years.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know that I don’t have the kind of looks that attract all the men in a room,” she said. “But I hold my own, Billy.”

  “Hell, I know that,” he said, shooting her a small smile. And if she thought that she hadn’t been drawing his eye for years, then she was dead wrong. “Grace, you know you’re gorgeous.”

  “I do know that,” she said firmly. “I didn’t always. I used to think I wasn’t as pretty as the girls you were attracted to, that you’d have to see past my figure to fall for me. But that wasn’t true. I can turn heads now, and all it took was some makeup and a little shopping.”

  “Confidence,” he countered.

  “That, too.” She smiled ruefully. “And I like myself better now than I used to.”

  “Than you did when we were friends,” he clarified.

  “Yes.”

  Her answer stabbed at him.

  “You want a certain type of woman,” s
he went on. “And that’s okay! I don’t hold that against you. Some men like blondes, some like women with tans, some like the nerdy type, and you like the sparkling, vivacious, thin type. I don’t blame you. Tracy is truly beautiful.”

  “Not in the ways that matter in the long-term.”

  “Well, obviously compatibility matters, too, but...” Grace sighed. “But you knew what you wanted and you went after it. Well, I learned to do that, too. I know what I want, and I’m going to chase it.”

  “So...what are you chasing?” he asked.

  “My career, for one. It’s a tough market for teachers right now, and having gotten a full-time job is massive. I worked really hard for that.”

  “And I’m happy for you,” he said.

  “You’re mildly annoyed that I’m leaving,” she countered.

  “I’m...” Yeah, he was. But it wasn’t about her moving on so much as his losing her again. “I’ll miss you.” His mind spun, trying to pull his feelings together into words. “Grace, we had something special. You weren’t just some girl I used to know, and I know I meant more to you, too. Yeah, we were hard to define, but... I’m realizing now that if anyone was compatible, it was you and I.”

  “I disagree,” she replied. “Compatibility is about more. We didn’t have the spark—and that’s something I want. I’m not settling for less than that, Billy.”

  Her words slipped past his defenses, and he felt their stab. He was less than she wanted. And why shouldn’t he be? He couldn’t read. He’d just been some high school dropout, hanging out with a woman destined for better things.

  “I want to get married and have kids,” she went on, and her voice choked. “I need spark and excitement and intimacy and fun. For me. And I’m really sorry, Billy, but that isn’t going to happen with you around.”

  He arrived at the elementary school and signaled, turning in. Her car was the only one in the lot, and they were silent as he pulled into the spot next to it.