Aiming for the Cowboy. Mary Leo

on bringing his boys, but Dodge had a “previous engagement” that he neglected to tell Colt about until a couple hours ago. Mrs. Abernathy, the older, semi-retired nurse who Colt could always depend on as his backup babysitter, was also busy that night, and both his brothers along with Maggie and Scout had tickets to a truck and tractor pull over in Idaho Falls, so he was stuck having to bring his boys.

      If he’d had more time to tell Helen about the change in circumstances, he would have called her and broken the date. Unfortunately, he’d assumed his dad, who rarely went anywhere but the barn in the evening, would be available to look after his boys. He never would have guessed in a million years the old man wouldn’t be available. No way would he call Helen an hour before their date and cancel. Instead, he brought his boys and if she didn’t want to go—and who could blame her—he would merely take the boys down to Sammy’s Smoke House for burgers and milkshakes and call it a night.

      He was dog-tired anyway.

      “Why are we stopping, Dad? Milo lives up yonder,” Buddy told him.

      “Yeah, Papa. I want to see Helen. Aren’t we going to see Helen?” Joey wanted to know.

      “I like Helen, Daddy,” Gavin said. “I promise to be good.”

      His three boys all sat strapped in the backseat with Joey in the middle. They were dressed in their best jeans, tucked-in pressed shirts and clean sneakers, except for Buddy, who only wore boots. Their hair was combed, their faces scrubbed and their nails were clipped smooth. They were duded up better than he was.

      He’d been so concerned about how his boys looked that he hadn’t had time to polish himself. Everything he wore was clean and he’d taken a shower, but his clothes weren’t his best and his boots had seen better days. Still, he’d had the presence of mind to grab his new straw cream-colored cattleman hat, which at least made him feel as if he was somewhat dressed for the occasion.

      Colt turned in his seat. “I’m stopping to make sure you boys know the rules. Can you repeat them for me?”

      “No loud talking. No screaming,” Gavin said. “Always say please and thank you.”

      “No going off without asking your permission first,” Buddy chimed in. “And no talking when the adults are talking. Even if we have a question?”

      “Yes. Wait until there’s a break in the conversation.”

      Buddy nodded.

      Colt looked at Joey, who hadn’t said anything. “What else?”

      Joey shrugged.

      “What’s the matter?”

      “I don’t feel so good.”

      Colt cringed. Joey had been sluggish all day, but Colt assumed Joey was simply tired. “I need specifics, remember?”

      “My head hurts.”

      Colt reached over and touched Joey’s face and, sure enough, he felt hot. “You have a fever, son. Probably getting a cold. I’m sorry, but we need to take care of this.”

      Tears instantly streamed down Joey’s cheeks. “But I don’t want to go home, Papa. I want to see Helen. I want a milkshake.”

      “I know, but you need to rest to get that fever down.”

      “I don’t want to go to bed. It’s too early. It’s still daytime.” The sun had just slipped behind the mountains.

      “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

      But Joey couldn’t stop crying.

      The first thing Colt had to do was cancel the date with Helen, and he didn’t want to do it on the phone. Seeing as how he was only a block away, he decided to drive to her house and tell her in person. It seemed as if he and Helen would never get the time they needed to talk.

      “I’m sorry, son,” Colt said as he drove the block to Helen’s house, parked the SUV and got out. “I’ll only be a minute, but I promise we’ll stop and get you that milkshake, Joey. We’ll see Helen another time.”

      Joey nodded, and wiped his tears from his face. His cheeks were turning a bright red. Colt knew he needed to make his excuses and get his son back home quickly.

      When he walked closer to the front door he noticed it was open, which meant she was inside doing something. He’d known Helen for quite some time, and whenever he stopped by to an open door it meant that he should make himself at home while he waited for her, only this time he couldn’t wait.

      He stepped inside. “Helen, are you here? My boy’s sick and I have to...”

      But he stopped dead silent when he saw Helen descending the stairs wearing a long floral dress, heels and a deep pink shawl over her shoulders. She didn’t say a word, but from the way she was dressed—combined with the warm smile on her face—he knew whatever she wanted to tell him about had to be serious. They had a connection, he and Helen, and he had no intention of ignoring it, despite the fact that she was carrying someone else’s child.

      He’d only seen Helen in a dress maybe a handful of times, and two of those times were at funerals. She looked positively glowing. He’d sometimes forget what a true knockout she was and the vision of her descending those steps left him muddleheaded and confused.

      “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” she said as she glided toward him.

      Colt couldn’t move or speak. He felt about as useless as a four-card flush until Buddy’s voice brought him back to reality.

      “Dad, Joey just puked all over the backseat.”

      * * *

      AN HOUR LATER, Joey was cleaned up and dosed with the children’s medication that Colt had picked up at Angie’s Pharmacy after he’d called the doctor to describe Joey’s symptoms. The doctor would stop by Colt’s house in the morning to check on Joey, but until then the medication brought down his fever and settled his stomach. He was now resting in Milo’s recliner. He looked so tiny and innocent in the massive chair all snuggled up with a thick blanket, head nestled on a pillow and his blond curly hair tousled around his sweet face. Anybody looking at him would never know what a handful he could be.

      The cheese pizza Helen ordered for her and the boys, along with a pizza with everything on it for Colt, had arrived and she arranged the fast-food blitz along with plates, milk and napkins on the double-wide coffee table in the living room. She’d also mixed up a batch of hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows, the cup rimmed in chocolate syrup she figured the boys would love. At first they’d all wanted milkshakes, but when she described her hot cocoa, there was no contest.