Page 151 of Cowboy Daddies

He cowboy’d up.

Despite my attempt to escape, he scooped me up, and when I tried to slap at his arms so he wouldn’t discover what I’d just done, he ignored me and slipped one arm under my ass and pulled me right back into the saddle of his lap.

“You’re all right⁠—”

“Nooo, I peed,” I whispered.

“I can’t hear you, pixie. Here, write it down,” he said, reaching past me for the pad.

“No!” I reached out and grabbed his wrist. No way I was going to draw wetting my pants! Releasing his wrist, I pulled on his shirt until he leaned down close enough I could speak into his ear. “I peed.”

He had the grace not to laugh, though I would swear I saw the ghost of a smile as he straightened, but it was gone by the time he shook his head.

“No, babygirl, you didn’t wet yourself.” He slid from the booth with me still in his arms.

When I tried to lift myself up so his arm wouldn’t come into contact with my wet butt, he simply tightened his hold and twisted to the side and pointed to the table. “Pixie, it’s not pee, it’s ice cream.”

Sure enough, the dish that had held not one or two, but three, huge scoops of ice cream on top of a halved banana and dotted with a half dozen cherries was no longer capable of holding anything as it was now sitting upside-down. Understanding dawned when I realized all my flailing about to grab something to keep me from hitting the floor beneath the booth had knocked the dish over. All I’d accomplished was to make sure I was no longer eating my prize, I was now wearing it on the back of my overalls after it had dripped over the edge of the table.

Despite the pain it caused, I tilted my head back again to look at his face and saw no derision, no malice, no judgment of my worth. The only thing reflected in the depths of his cobalt eyes was acceptance of me just the way I was.

“Oh.”

“So need for tears, just perhaps a bath and change of clothes?” he suggested.

“Yes, please,” I said and my true prize was the appearance of the dimple in his right cheek as he smiled.

“We don’t want to forget your voice,” he said. While I’d slept, he’d put the colored pencils back into their box.

“My jaw isn’t that sore anymore,” I said trying and failing not to wince at the flare of pain.

“And grass isn’t green.” He grinned as he handed the pencils and tablet to me.

“And don’t forget these either.”

The voice didn’t belong to the teenaged girl who’d prepared the banana split Lincoln and I had shared. That girl had been unknown to me. But hearing this one had a memory stirring. By the time Lincoln had made it halfway across the floor, I had put a name to it as well as the woman’s face.

“’Miss Eve!”

“Hi, honey. I could barely believe it when Judith called to tell me you’re back. It’s so good to see you again! We’ve missed seeing you.”

Grammie O had often brought me into town to this very ice-cream parlor owned by Evelyn and Richard Walsh. Years might have added more wrinkles around her eyes and a few extra pounds to her frame, but Miss Eve’s smile and welcome were both just as sincere as they’d been when I was a kid.

“I am sorry about the accident, but am grateful Lincoln brought you into town. Now, don’t you fret. Your jaw will heal and you’ll soon be back to the chatterbox you used to be. Until then, let Lincoln take care of you. And these should help.” With that, she opened the bag she held and handed Lincoln one of the items he’d purchased at the drugstore when we’d gotten the pencils and tablet.

“Lift your hair up, pixie,” Lincoln instructed and once I had, I gave a slight shudder as he placed something very cold across my neck. That shudder became one of pleasure as relief rushed through me.

Eve laughed and held up the other item the bag had contained. “And this will help your jaw.”

This was another cold ice-pack though far smaller than the long one now draped over my neck and across my shoulders to hang beneath my hair. I was pretty sure the eye roll I gave wouldn’t count, but even if it did, the cold against my sore jaw felt so good, it would be totally worth a pop to my butt.

“Thanks again, Evelyn. I’m sure we’ll see you again soon,” Lincoln said.

“If she’s feeling better by this evening, bring her to the dance with you. Even if she can’t dance, she can enjoy the music and everyone would love to stop by and welcome her home.”

Perhaps it was just me, but Lincoln didn’t seem pleased at the invitation because he didn’t immediately accept. Instead, he said, “We’ll see, but let’s not try to overwhelm her.”

“Good luck with that.” Evelyn grinned and gave a pointed nod toward the door when the bell rang as another customer entered the store.