Nancy Robards Thompson

Taming A Fortune


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      Yes, he did. And there wasn’t much he could do to stop a rumor like that from getting out. But heck, if he was going to be the subject of gossip, it was too bad he couldn’t have had a night to remember it by.

      “Finally, around ten this morning, I asked Mrs. Tierney if she could man the cash register for a while,” Angie said. “And so she let me work back here instead.”

      “All because of a little misunderstanding?” Toby shook his head. “That reminds me, though. How is Mr. Murdock?”

      “He was here this morning, having coffee and holding court. He gave everyone a firsthand account of what happened. He...uh...also mentioned to Mrs. Rhodes, who was on her way to The Cuttery for her shampoo and set, that I’ve been helping you out a lot with the kids.”

      Should that be a secret? Toby wondered. Apparently Angie thought so because the pink flush on her cheeks deepened.

      “Actually,” he said, “you’ve been a godsend. And I really appreciate your help more than you can imagine.”

      “Even after yesterday?” she asked.

      He laughed. “I told you before. I’ve had my share of bad days, too. It happens.”

      Angie glanced at the kids, who’d finished their cupcakes and were now racing their frosting-coated cars along the table, then looked at Toby and smiled. “To be honest, I’ve really enjoyed helping you, too. The kids are great, and I’m actually surprised at how much I like spending time with them.”

      What about their foster dad? Toby wanted to ask. Do you enjoy spending time with him, too?

      But he knew better than to let things get personal, especially when he really did need another favor from her tomorrow. Besides, he’d picked up on what she’d left unsaid earlier.

      If Mrs. Rhodes knew Angie was spending so much time with him and the kids, it wouldn’t be long before all the other women getting their hair done at The Cuttery would start linking him and Angie romantically.

      He really didn’t mind what people said, but he didn’t think Angie would like it, especially if her mom got wind of it. Doris Edwards had been pushing Angie to find a husband. And if the eligible men in town thought she was already taken, it might ruin her chance of going out with a guy who could offer her more than a cattle ranch and three foster kids.

      Although the thought of her going out on a real date with someone else reared up inside of him, throwing him to the ground like an unexpected buck from a mild-mannered horse.

      Maybe, in that case, he ought to keep her unavailable for a while—until he figured out where this thing was going. Or where he wanted it to go.

      “I feel bad asking you this,” he said, “but I’m in a bind. I’d ask Stacey, but she works and has her hands full with Piper.”

      “I’d be glad to help,” Angie said. “What do you need me to do?”

      “I have a meeting in Lubbock tomorrow afternoon, and I’m not sure when I’ll get back. Is there any chance you could pick the kids up from school and take them home?”

      “I have a few things to do, but it shouldn’t be too hard to reschedule them. Let me work on that. In the meantime, don’t worry about the kids. I’ll pick them up from school. And I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home.”

      Well, what do you know?

      He was back in the saddle again.

      * * *

      The meeting in Lubbock had gone later than Toby had expected, so he called Angie before he left town and told her to go ahead and feed the kids.

      “Don’t wait for me,” he said.

      “We’re having spaghetti,” she told him. “I’ll keep a plate warm for you.”

      “Sounds good. Thanks.”

      “Did your meeting go well?” she asked.

      “It sure did. I’ve been negotiating a deal on a piece of property that backs mine, and the man who owned it had refused to sell. But he passed away last spring, and his widow doesn’t want to deal with it any longer. Her late husband thought it was a lot more valuable than it really is, so we had to agree upon a price.”

      “Great. We’ll have to celebrate when you get home.”

      “Sounds good to me.”

      “Oh,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told the kids they could have a movie night after dinner.”

      “That’s fine. I’ll see you in a bit.”

      When the line disconnected, he turned on the radio, letting Gladys Knight fill the cab with her soulful voice as she sang about a midnight train to Georgia.

      See, all you Texas country music fans. Willie Nelson isn’t the only one who can sing about the Peach State.

      The song had barely ended when his cell rang.

      Toby glanced at the lit display, but didn’t recognize the area code. Still, he turned down the volume on the radio, took the call and pushed the speakerphone button. “Hello?”

      “It’s Barbara Hemings, Toby.”

      The kids’ aunt. He glanced in the rearview mirror, then pulled to the shoulder of the road and let the truck idle.

      “Hi, Barbara.” He wanted to ask her how rehab was going, but the woman sometimes became defensive, so he let it be. Besides, he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a social call, which was why he wanted to have his hands free in case he needed to make any notes about something she said.

      “I heard about what happened at the pool the other day, so I put in a call to the case worker from child services. I’m waiting for her call back, but I thought you should know that just because I’m stuck in court-ordered treatment, I haven’t stopped fighting for my kids.”

      They weren’t her kids. And she’d had a lot of opportunities to fight for them, especially when she had custody, but she kept blowing it. However, arguing with her wasn’t going to solve anything.

      “I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, Barbara, but that incident was blown all out of proportion. Justin was never in danger at the pool. The kids are all safe, and they’re happy. And just so you know, I’ve already called Ms. Fisk and given her a heads-up about the situation. I’m sure she’ll tell you the same thing when she calls you back.”

      “Toby, you’re a young, single man with a tumbling-down ranch. And those kids can be a handful at times. There’s no way you can handle them on your own.”

      Tumbling-down ranch? He’d turned the Double H around in the three years he’d owned it. And, thanks to the meeting he’d had thirty minutes ago, he’d be running more cattle next year, and that meant he’d be turning an even better profit—if things went according to plan.

      “As I seem to remember,” he reminded her, “you were single when you took the kids on, too. And my ‘tumbling-down’ ranch is a hell of a lot nicer than that cockroach-infested motel you had them living in when the state took them away from you.”

      “Yes, and that turned out badly. But I’m better now.”

      At least the woman was able to admit the obvious.

      “Anyway,” she added, “the kids need to be with family. And if they can’t be with me for the next few months, then I want them with one of my relatives.”

      What family? If there were any Hemings relatives nearby, wouldn’t they have stepped up by now?

      “Do the kids even know these relatives?” Toby finally asked, his fingers gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles ached.

      “No, but they’re family, Toby. You of all people should understand about long-lost family.”