The Rancher's Lullaby (Glades County Cowboys) (7 page)

That was a lie, but there was no point in arguing the point. It was over between them. “Whatever, Brad.”

“Now, sweetheart. Is that any way to talk after I’ve driven all this way just to see how you’re doing?”

According to her lawyer, ’Skeeter Creek had landed a long-standing gig in Tampa. Whatever had possessed her ex to make the three-hour drive from there to Okeechobee, Lisa was pretty sure it had nothing to do with delivering a few discards. But she hadn’t spent five years with Brad without learning his tricks. She gave him a closer look. When he studied a poster she’d tacked to the wall and refused to meet her gaze, she knew he was hiding something. “You might as well tell me the truth and save us the time we’d spend dancing around it. Why are you really here?”

“You know me too well.” Brad’s slim shoulders rose and fell with a long breath. “Jessie’s been, uh, under the weather a bit lately.”

“I hear that happens in a lot of pregnancies.” Not sure how she managed, Lisa kept her voice even and steady.

“Oh, you knew about that?”

“Yeah. I heard.” She gave him a few points for at least trying to look ashamed, though pride still shone in the eyes that finally met hers.

“The thing is, till Jessie is on her feet again, I’m in a bind. I need a lead vocalist. And, well, you’re the best I know. What say you come back to ’Skeeter Creek. Temporarily.”

“I’d say that’s not gonna happen.” She swept a glance at the racks of guitars and mandolins. After her marriage had dissolved, it had taken too long to get her life back on track to get involved with Brad again. On any level.

“C’mon, Lisa. If not for my sake, then do it for the rest of the guys in the band. They all miss you.”

“I miss them, too,” she admitted, though not enough to throw away all she’d accomplished.

Brad’s expression shifted into a familiar self-confident grin. As if he was certain he’d discovered her weak spot, he pressed the advantage. “You and me and the guys together again. It’ll be like old times.”

“Those old times lost their appeal ages ago.” Warding him off, she stood her ground. To be honest, their marriage had hit the skids long before she’d found him in bed with Jessie. Besides, she could name a dozen singers who’d jump at the chance to perform with ’Skeeter Creek. No doubt Brad could, too.

“Aw, come on, Lisa.” Brad leaned across the counter. “You won’t hold one small mistake against me, now, will you?”

She pointed to the box he’d carted into her store. The box filled with evidence that there had, indeed, been other women. “You’re kidding, right?” She shook her head. “Give it up, Brad. Tell the rest of the boys I said hello, but I’m done with ’Skeeter Creek. Done with you, too. I’d appreciate it if you left now.”

She didn’t know how much plainer she could state her position. But apparently she’d underestimated Brad’s persistence. He glanced around, as if making sure they had the store to themselves. His voice dropped into a lower register. “You know you don’t mean that, Lisa.” He reached for her.

Lisa reeled back a step. Her arms came up. Almost of their own volition, they folded protectively across her chest.

She’d say one thing about Garrett Judd—for a big man, he moved on cat’s paws when he wanted. Appearing at Brad’s side without warning, the rancher made a solid presence.

Low and guttural, his voice rolled out of him like a growl. “I don’t know about where you’re from, mister, but ’round here, when a lady says ‘Go,’ a gentleman doesn’t wait to be told twice.”

“What the—?” Brad swung toward Garrett. The smaller man’s gaze traveled upward, stopping at a pair of flinty-blue eyes. “Excuse me, but you’re butting in on a conversation that’s none of—”

Whatever he intended to say next got lost in an ominous throat clearing. Lisa suppressed the giggle that bubbled up from her middle when Brad’s face lost all its color. Garrett’s large, tanned hand grasped him by the elbow.

“Time to make tracks,” the rancher insisted. Without appearing to exert much effort at all, he quick-stepped the shorter man past the racks of musical equipment, toward the exit. “Here’s a thought,” he said, opening the door wide. “Don’t come back.”

Brad nearly stumbled out the door. For a second, Lisa thought he might not take no for an answer, but her ex was smarter than she’d given him credit for. He tossed a baleful look into the store, set his cowboy hat at a jaunty angle, and stomped off in the general direction of a public parking lot.

Meanwhile, Garrett gave the departing guest a shrug as he dusted off his hands. Straightening, he strode toward the counter, toward her, looking like a man on a mission.

Was she that mission?

Garrett rounded the counter, coming to a halt so close to her that she felt his breath on her lips. “Are you all right?” he asked without the slightest trace of the anger he’d shown only moments before.

“You didn’t need to step in. I had that.” Having made her point, she softened. “But, um, thanks.”

“Sorry if I overreacted.” Garrett toed one boot across the carpeted floor. “I take it that’s the ex?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. As quickly as it had risen, the adrenaline rush of the past few minutes wore off, and Lisa sagged. She didn’t complain, not even a little bit, when Garrett slipped one arm around her waist. She leaned into his strength, drew on his support.

“I only heard the end of the conversation. What did he want, anyway?”

“Me.” She laughed. “To come back on the road with him. As if that would ever happen.” In answer to the confusion that swam in Garrett’s eyes, she explained, “The doctors thought the stress of being on the road so much, performing every night, might be one of the reasons I couldn’t get pregnant. They suggested I take a break. By then, I’d already tried IVF without success. And things were, well, tense between Brad and me. I think, even then, I knew it was over between us. I rented a little house for six months and hired a temporary replacement for the band. One night, when they were playing close by, I drove out to meet him, hoping things weren’t as bad as I thought. The surprise was on me.” She gave a dry laugh. “That was the night I caught Brad in bed with Jessie.”

“Man.” A muscle along Garrett’s jaw twitched. “That had to be tough.”

“It was hard. I won’t deny it.” The tears she’d been holding back threatened. She scrubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

“Hey now,” Garrett said, his voice a low rumble. He flexed his fingers as though he wished they were around Brad’s neck.

It was funny how often she and Garrett connected on the same wavelength. And how often they didn’t, she corrected when he pressed a kiss onto her forehead. She placed her palm against his chest and backed out of his embrace.

“Thanks, Garrett. For listening...and for being here today. I guess you understand why I can’t get involved with you. Not now. Not while we’re working together. After what happened between Jessie and Brad, well, I’m not in the market for anything more than friendship.”

The tall rancher shrugged. “Neither of us is in a place to want more than that. Friends, that’s good with me.”

No matter how often she told herself a friendship with Garrett was all she wanted, all they could have, it stung when he agreed to her request as if it had been his idea all along. As if he hadn’t just brushed a kiss through her hair and she hadn’t wanted to tip her face to his and see where another kiss would lead. With grim determination, she pushed her feelings aside to examine later. A change of topic was in order, and she asked if he’d found his pick.

“Oh, yeah.” A heart-tugging grin slipped onto Garrett’s face. He dug two fingers into a tiny slit above the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a speckled wedge.

She gazed down at the worn tortoise shell. Despite her earlier admonition, she cupped his hand in hers. His fingers curled around the triangle. “You don’t see many of those anymore.” Not since the big turtles had made it onto the endangered species list. “Do you actually play with it?”

“Nah, it’s too fragile. I’m scared I’d break it. But it was one of my dad’s, so I keep it handy. I’m sure glad I found it.”

They chatted a minute or two longer before Garrett headed back to the ranch. Watching him leave, Lisa rubbed one finger across her forehead. Who would have guessed that the tall, brooding rancher had a sentimental heart? Or that she’d like him even more after learning he carried his late father’s guitar pick wherever he went?

Chapter Five

Last night when the stars were out,

I was only thinking of you.

Leaning back in the rocker, Garrett hummed the next two lines of the lullaby. He sat for a minute, studying the baby who lay in his crib, one thumb in his mouth, dark lashes fanning the translucent skin under his eyes. LJ had drifted off before he’d even finished the first verse. Just as well, Garrett thought. The tune, a waltz, had come to him during the night, but the words—he wasn’t sure he’d ever get those right. Rising, the rancher propped his guitar in the corner and crossed to the crib. He patted the boy’s well-padded bottom.

“Love you, son,” he whispered. Moisture stung his eyes. He blinked it away.

Two weeks ago, he’d have scoffed at anyone who predicted that at dinner tonight he’d pretend his hand was an airplane and LJ’s mouth the hangar as he spooned baby food from a jar. He’d have laughed out loud if someone suggested that one day, soon, he’d sing LJ to sleep at night or change the boy’s diaper. Though he’d have bet against the possibility that he’d ever bounce his baby on his lap, he thanked heaven and the stars above for the second chance he’d been given.

Lost in his own pain and grief, he’d missed out on too many of his child’s early months. He wouldn’t wallow in despair again. Not when he had so much to live for.

“He’s going to be all right,” he whispered to his late wife’s memory. “
We’re
going to be all right.”

Garrett slipped his guitar into its case and gently closed the door. As he tiptoed down the stairs, his boots made soft, scuffing noises on the risers. Though he was pretty sure LJ would sleep through anything short of a herd of elephants, he paused at every noise, hardly daring to breathe until he reached the first floor. From there, he headed to the kitchen, where his mom and younger brother, Hank, lingered over coffee.

Doris looked up from hers. “He’s down for the night, then?”

“Yes, ma’am.” LJ had started sleeping through the night at three months, which made it a whole lot easier for him and Hank to slip off to the jam at Pickin’ Strings. “He was sound asleep before I finished the first song,” Garrett said with a satisfied grin.

“You don’t say. To hear you boys tell it, all my grandchildren are perfect angels.” Doris sipped from her mug. “Hank was just tellin’ me about Noelle’s blue ribbons. Did you know she’s turned into quite the barrel racer?”

Garrett nodded. “Everyone says she’s a natural. I wouldn’t be surprised if she heads to Las Vegas for the national rodeo finals in a few years.” If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Hank’s chest swelled.

“I’d sure like to see her compete before then,” Doris mused.

Garrett fought the urge to give himself a good rap on the noggin. LJ had occupied most of his mother’s time, but he wasn’t her only grandchild. He couldn’t fault her for wanting to spend time with the others. Especially Noelle, who lived with her dad only part-time. “Isn’t she riding in Kissimmee this weekend?”

Garrett sought confirmation in a pair of blue eyes much like his own before he helped himself to a cup of coffee.

“Yeah.” Hank hesitated. “As a matter of fact, if I weren’t going with you tonight, I’d be helpin’ her get ready for it.” Training for the rodeo wasn’t enough. There were saddles to soap, boots to polish and horses to curry.

For the moment, Garrett ignored his brother’s thinly veiled request to be let off the hook. He waved his cup through the air. “You should go with ’em, Mom. I’ll have the day off on Sunday. No reason I can’t take care of LJ.”

“You’d watch him for a full day? I don’t know...” Doris’s eyebrows bent until they filled the space above her nose.

Garrett shrugged. How hard could it be? In two weeks, he’d already mastered feeding and bottling. LJ’s diapers no longer fell off when he changed them. The boy went to sleep as soon as he broke out his guitar. They could build with blocks in the living room, play peep-eye and pat-a-cake for a couple of hours and both take long naps. Heck, he might even have time to catch some bullriding on TV. “Sure, Mom,” he said. “You plan on it. We’ll have a great time, LJ and me.”

Doris eyed Garrett’s younger brother. “What time would we need to leave?”

“Around five. Maybe a little after.”

Five?
Garrett blinked. “That early?” he asked, hoping he’d heard wrong.

Hank toted his cup to the sink. “You remember how it was when we were kids. It always seemed like the middle of the night when Dad would wake us. We’d load the horses and gear and be on the road before sunup.”

“I remember.” Hanging out with his dad and his brothers, testing his limits on the back of a bucking horse—those had been some of the best days of his life. He turned to his mom. “LJ gets up at, what? Six?” So much for his plans to sleep in on Sunday morning.

“Maybe I should stay.” Doris edged her coffee aside on the heavy oak table.

“Nah, you go with Hank. I’ve got this covered.” Garrett pushed away the uneasy feeling that he’d bitten off more than he could chew. “I’ll expect a glowing report when you get back.”

“I guess that settles it, then.”

Warmth filled Garrett’s chest at his mom’s wide smile. He swigged the last of his coffee and settled the mug on the table. “I guess we’d better hit the road if we’re gonna make the jam on time. Ready?” He aimed a pointed glance at Hank.

“As I’ll ever be.” Reluctance showing in each stiff-armed movement, his brother lifted a banjo case off a nearby chair.

Garrett grabbed his hat from a peg near the door. He had his reasons for wanting Hank to accompany him to the jam at Pickin’ Strings. Reasons that had nothing to do with a certain leggy newcomer to town. Or at least, not much.

“You boys have a good time tonight,” Doris said after both men had bussed her cheek. “It’s nice to see you getting out together.”

“Yeah, about that,” Hank murmured once the screen door slapped shut behind them. “I could use a night off. You sure you need me to go with you?”

“Yeah. I do,” Garrett answered, his voice hard and unyielding. With his brother in the room, he wouldn’t dare make a move toward Lisa. He thought for a moment and added, “You can tell me all about Noelle’s latest blue ribbon on the way there.”

“Man,” Hank said, giving in. He slid his banjo case between the seats of the truck. “You ought to see that girl ride.”

Between bragging about his daughter’s success in the ring and the barrel-racing school his wife had established, Hank monopolized the conversation all the way in to Okeechobee. Which was fine with Garrett. He held up his end of things with a couple of well-timed grunts and just enough questions to prod things along. All of which gave him more time to think about the situation with Lisa.

After a night of the best sex he’d had in forever, she’d told him to keep his distance. Which should have been fine. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. Especially not with someone who longed for a baby the way Lisa did. On that count, he wished her luck—really, he did. But his family was complete.

That was reason enough to keep his distance, but it wasn’t the only pebble in the horseshoe. From the little he’d gleaned about her history, Lisa had spent most of her life on the road. Sooner or later, she’d probably miss the sound of applause, the challenge of performing on a different stage in a different city every night.

To a certain extent, he could relate. He’d felt the same way while he was riding the rodeo circuit. For him, though, bustin’ broncs had always been a means to an end, a way to earn enough money for college. After that, he and Arlene had moved to the big city, where they’d spent a few years trying to make a difference in the lives of underprivileged kids. But he was back now and, for LJ’s sake, he’d come home to stay. His motherless son needed the structure and stability that the Judds’ deep roots in south Florida would provide. Needed family. Their future was in Glades County, where LJ would grow up under the watchful eyes of an army of aunts and uncles.

But Lisa...

Other than her music store, she had no ties to Okeechobee. He doubted she’d last a year before small-town life became too confining and she moved on. All that said, though, he knew he should be a whole lot happier with her insistence on a platonic relationship. His head told him it was the right move. So why did he question whether he could play by her rules? He shifted in his seat.

“And that’s when Kelly told me she was painting the barn bright orange with green trim.”

“Nice,” Garrett murmured.

“Seriously? An orange-and-green barn?” Hank leaned across the front seat to punch his upper arm. “In what universe is that
nice
?”

Garrett managed a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I was thinking—” about things he wasn’t ready to discuss with his brother “—about LJ and what it’s gonna be like for him to grow up without a mother.”

“That’s gonna be tough, no matter what.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too.” Garrett tapped the brakes as he passed the Okeechobee city-limit sign. Even on a weeknight, heavy traffic clogged the main road through town. “What would you think if I decided to sell the house in Atlanta and made the move to Glades County a permanent thing?”

Hank rubbed his chin. “I’d say that was a great idea. Me and Colt, we’d be glad to help you watch out for the little guy. If you stayed here, it wouldn’t all be on your back. Or Mom’s.”

“Yeah.” He’d never have made it through the last year without his mother’s help, but he couldn’t expect her to shoulder the burden of raising his son. “That’s why I’m thinking we should stick around after Randy and Royce come back from Montana.”

Hank flipped the visor down and back up again. “You hear from them lately?”

“Not a word. You?” Garrett slowed to let a pedestrian cross against the light. After their dad’s funeral, the twins had practically begged to take over as permanent managers of the Circle P. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Forced to choose between moving his sick, pregnant wife to the ranch and passing the job that was rightfully his on to his brothers, Garrett had agreed to their request.

“It’s been one delay after another with them. Whatever’s keeping them in Montana, it must be mighty important. So—” Hank flipped the visor back into place “—you won’t go back to Georgia?”

Garrett pictured himself moving around in the little house he and his wife had shared. He shook his head. “Nah. My time there is over. You think you could sell the property for me?” Hank knew the real estate market better than most. Before he’d married the girl next door and started raising livestock for the rodeo, he’d owned a real estate office in Tallahassee.

“For you? Anything. Let me check some numbers this week. I should be able to come up with a good selling price. I’ll help you find a new place, too, if that’s what you decide.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” It felt good to have the beginnings of a plan for the future, even if he hadn’t filled in all the blanks.

“Here we are,” Garrett said, pulling to the curb outside Pickin’ Strings. “Looks like she’s ready for us.” Lisa had created room for a circle of folding chairs by pushing the sales racks against the walls. He swallowed, and hoped he was ready, too.

From the passenger seat, Hank studied the bright interior. “I like what she’s done to the place,” he said. “What do we know about her?”

“Not much.” Garrett shrugged. “She’s divorced. I was in the store the other day when her ex dropped by. He’s a piece of work—pushy, bossy. I’d call him a bully, but Lisa swears he isn’t one.”

“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, chances are it’s probably a duck,” Hank chimed in.

“My feelings exactly. There she is now.” He aimed his chin toward the figure he’d spotted in the glow of light from the back room. Lisa wore one of those long skirts that should have hidden her assets. On her, though, the denim pinched in around a tiny waist before hugging slim hips and dropping down to brush shapely ankles. She sank onto a folding chair and leaned down to grab a guitar from its case. Garrett watched, mesmerized, as she plucked a few strings.

“I remember her now. Saw her at the get-together at the Barlowe place last spring.” Hank’s head bobbed up and down. “She’s a fine-lookin’ woman.”

Garrett cursed the way his pulse had surged. Careful not to say too much, he managed a noncommittal, “I guess.”

“C’mon, man. Admit it. You’ve noticed. I know you have.”

“So what?” Garrett allowed himself one small, tight smile before shifting his focus to his little brother.

“You like her.” Hank’s announcement wasn’t a question.

“Sure, but it’s not what you think. She’s a coworker. A friend, that’s all. That’s all she—” he stopped himself “—all I want. Friendship.”

“You sure about that? Nothing more?”

“Nah, man.” Garrett swung his head. “I’m not ready.” Certainly not ready for a relationship. Not with Lisa, or anyone else.

“No one would blame you if you were. That’s all I’m sayin’. When you’re willing to start livin’ again, well, we’ll all be happy for you.”

“Huh,” Garrett grunted. “Good to know everyone’s got nothin’ better to do than sit around and talk about my love life.” He slid a hand around to his backside and patted his wallet. There’d be hell to pay if his brother ever learned he hadn’t left the house without protection since the night of the storm.

“You know it’s not like that.” Hank swung toward the storefront. “You think she’ll have a good turnout tonight?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Garrett sucked down a gulp of air as his brother changed the subject. His eyes narrowed when a teenager emerged from the back room carrying a guitar so new the price tag still hung from the neck. The boy slipped into the exact seat Garrett had planned to claim for himself...the one beside Lisa. The teen must have asked for help, because she leaned toward him, a smile playing about her lips.

“I think it’s time we got in there, don’t you?” Checking for traffic in the rearview mirror, Garrett reached for the door handle. He grabbed his instrument case from the back and rounded the truck. On the sidewalk, he tapped his boot heel, wishing his brother would get the lead out.

“What are you waiting for? Christmas?” he growled. Maybe bringing Hank along with him hadn’t been his smartest move. It was one thing to have a good wingman. Another thing entirely when the wingman slowed him down.