Rancher Daddy

Every so often the wind tossed Holly’s words to him.

“You stay there, Henry. Don’t get down. Don’t even move,” she said in a calm, even voice. “Luc and I will get you out of here but you have to stay still.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” the boy sniffed. “I don’t like that old cow.”

“That’s not a cow.” Luc could hear amusement thread Holly’s tone. “That’s a bull. It’s a boy cow.”

“I still don’t like him.” At least Henry’s voice had lost some of its sheer terror.

“He doesn’t like you much, either,” Holly told him. “Or me,” she added when Ornery Joe lurched to his feet and lumbered around Henry’s stone to take after her. Fleet-footed Holly scooted across some open ground and climbed a tree. “He sure doesn’t like me at all. Get out of here, you grumpy old man,” she yelled to the bull.

Luc had found nothing in Holly’s jeep with which to entice the bull, except for a half-eaten package of chips. He rattled the foil bag now to draw Ornery Joe’s attention.

“Here, boy,” he called. “Here’s a treat for you.” He scattered the chips on the ground then looked toward Holly. “When he comes toward me, take Henry and run.”

“What about you?” she called, her gaze intent on Ornery Joe who was watching them, swinging his big head from side to side.

“I’ll be fine. You take care of Henry.” Luc crackled the bag again then held it up, hoping the breeze would carry the smell of the chips to the animal. Sure enough, Ornery Joe lifted his head, sniffed then began to walk toward him. “Go,” he said to Holly, hoping she’d hear him since he kept his voice low to avoid distracting the bull. “Go now.”

In a flash she’d jumped down from her perch, picked up Henry and raced across the pasture to the gate.

Seconds later, certain she and Henry were safe on the other side, Luc backed up as Joe advanced. When the animal lost interest in the chips and glared at him, he turned and bolted, vaulting to freedom before Ornery Joe could get up enough speed to charge.

“You okay?” Holly called.

He nodded. “Just another pair of torn pants,” he told her. “I caught them on a nail when I went over the fence.”

“I’ll mend them.” Holly dialed 911 and said she was bringing Henry to town. Then she made another call. “We found him, Abby. He’s fine. We’ll meet you at Hilda’s.” Seconds later she slid her phone in her pocket before hunkering down to stare at Henry. “I’m mad at you,” she said sternly.

Henry’s eyes widened.

“Since when do you disobey the lady who’s taking care of you? Poor Hilda’s worried sick,” she scolded. “That’s rude and also wrong when she specifically told you she’d bring you to visit Luc on the weekend.”

“I didn’t want to wait,” he said with a pouty look.

Interested to see how Holly handled this, Luc remained still and listened.

“Do you think Luc wanted to wait to have you for a visit? He didn’t but he knows you can’t always have what you want when you want it.” Holly studied Henry, her severe look not dissipating. “Sometimes you have to be patient, Henry. Otherwise you end up in a heap of trouble, like you just did. That bull is very dangerous. You could have been hurt and all because you couldn’t wait.”

“I’m sorry.” Henry’s lower lip trembled and he ducked his head.

“I hope so. Luc risked his life to get you out, do you know that? If Ornery Joe had been really angry, he could easily have charged Luc or me.” Holly paused a moment to let her words sink in. “Ms. Hilda knows about Ornery Joe. I’m sure that’s why she wanted you to wait until she could take you to Luc’s.”

“I didn’t know that.” Henry sounded the tiniest bit belligerent. That didn’t faze Holly.

“Of course you didn’t and you didn’t ask, either, did you?” When Henry shook his head, Holly made a clicking noise. “That’s the thing, Henry. We all know you want a family and we’re trying to help you, but you have to trust us.” Holly brushed the hank of hair off his forehead. “We can’t always tell you every single thing that’s happening. You need to believe we’re doing our best for you and be patient. Okay?”

He nodded slowly. “Are you still mad at me, Holly?”

“A little. You scared the daylights out of me.” She pulled him into her arms and hugged him tightly. “Don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay.” Henry hugged her back, his face wreathed in smiles.

“I think you owe somebody a big thank-you,” she whispered just loud enough for Luc to hear. Her blue eyes glistened as Henry walked to Luc.

“I’m sorry I got in trouble,” he said. “Thank you for helping me.” He thrust out his hand.

Luc did the same. He looked at Holly, struggling to suppress his grin.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he shook Henry’s hand. Then he scooped the boy into his arms, relishing the feel of holding this wonderful child. “But what are we going to do about my torn pants?” He set Henry down and showed him the tear in the back of his jeans. “These were my best ones, too,” he mourned.

“Holly can fix them,” Henry said with a grin. “Holly’s good at everything.”

“Not him, too,” Holly muttered. Luc smiled.

“You should ask her to sew your pants,” Henry advised.

“I’ll do that.” Luc shot a sideways glance at Holly who was looking anywhere but at him. “Something wrong?”

“Melody. She must have gone home. Guess I’ll have to hitch a ride. But first we’re taking Henry to Ms. Hilda’s as promised. Let’s go.”

Luc waited, wondering if Holly would prefer to drive her own vehicle, but she waved him to the driver’s side.

“I’m still shaking so much I’d probably crash us. He doesn’t seem any worse for wear, though.” She nodded toward Henry, who’d climbed into the back of the vehicle.

“You looked unflappable.” He held her door. As Holly passed him, he murmured, “You were wrong, you know.”

“About what specifically?” Holly gazed at him, her expression curious.

“That you don’t have the motherhood gene.” He saw a look of fear flicker through her gaze before her chin lifted. “I think you’re a born mother.”

“You’re wrong, Luc.” She stepped past him and into the vehicle. “I’m not the kind of mother any child needs.”

Luc climbed in on the driver’s side and drove to town. But all the way there he wondered why Holly was so sure she wasn’t the mother type. The way she’d reprimanded Henry, firmly but gently, ending it with a hug, easing his fear but imparting the lesson of patience, was pure mothering. Surely she could see that.

Was there something in Holly’s past that made feel she wasn’t motherly?

Luc really wanted to find out.

* * *

“Thank you for finding Henry,” Abby said as Hilda ushered the little boy away for a late supper. “I’m sure my call took you away from something important.”

“Nothing’s more important than keeping Henry safe,” Luc said.

Holly felt his scrutiny, his earlier words replaying in her mind. Why hadn’t she just let his comment about motherhood go? She’d only made him more curious. She also knew Luc well enough to know that he wouldn’t stop until he’d figured out what was behind her comment. Stupid to have said so much.

But she was so tired of pretending. People in Buffalo Gap thought she had it all, that she never blew it or regretted anything. They only saw the perfect girl she’d tried to be so as not to disappoint her father, as her mother had.