A Cowgirl's Secret(15)
Two weeks after having decided to move, on the verge of introducing her son to everyone she held dear, Daisy swiped at tears she’d hoped ten-year-old Kolt hadn’t noticed. Forcing a smile, she ruffled his baby-fine dark hair. “Just allergies, sweetie.”
“Uh-huh.” Usually, she was proud of her smarty-pants son, but this was one time when she wished he wasn’t quite so observant.
“Whoa.” Though moments earlier his crossed arms had read angry and defensive, he now leaned forward with his hands on the dash. On the maple-lined approach to Buckhorn Ranch’s main house, he asked, “Is this like a cowboy mansion?”
The rambling two-story home was large enough for a family of twenty. Until she found a place of her own, no one would even notice she and her son were there.
“Sort of,” she answered, pulse racing to an uncomfortable degree. Back in San Francisco, handing over the loft keys to the hip, young artist friend of a friend named Gunter, she’d been positive this wasn’t just the right decision, but the only one. Not even her disastrous call to Luke had brought her down. She’d chosen to drive to Oklahoma with Kolt to give him time to transition—not just to the idea of moving, but to the change of climate and scenery.
Stuck in neverending traffic on a six-lane Denver highway, she’d been passed by a father and son and something about the pairing consumed her with chills. What if Luke had a change of heart, deciding he had no interest in becoming an instant father? How would she explain the rejection to her son?
Oklahoma summer sun came as quite a shock to her body used to San Francisco fog. Though the car’s air-conditioning was on high, it had a hard time competing with the sweltering rays.
“Whoever lives here must be really rich. Is this where my cousins live?” Kolt angled sideways on his seat to get a better look. “Cool! Look at all the cows! And horses—lots of them! Is that an emu?”
Kolt’s excitement shattered Daisy’s heart all the more.
She was a horrible mother. The worst. Had she been less of a coward when she’d carried him, he’d have spent every summer and school break on the land where she’d grown up and, in what seemed like another lifetime ago, fallen in love with his father.
“This place is awesome! How come we’ve never been here on vacation?”
Parking her Mercedes in the circular drive, she turned off the engine and prayed for courage to leave the car.
“Come on!” Kolt prodded, tugging her hand. “There’re chickens, too.”
From the home’s front door barreled the twins, Betsy and Bonnie. Behind them came Dallas and Josie. Next, came Daisy’s mom, Georgina, tall and strong, wearing her long white hair in its usual braid—this time neat as a pin.
“Aunt Daisy!” the twins cried in unison, bouncing around her when her quivering legs surprised her by actually allowing her to exit the car. “We missed you!”
“I missed you, too,” she said, gathering them for a hug. It warmed her that they even remembered her name.
Kolt rounded the trunk, shyly standing alongside her, taking her hand.
“Who are you?” Bonnie asked.
“Who are you?” Kolt retorted.
“Betsy, Bonnie…” Forcing a breath, Daisy looked to her mother and brother. “This is my son, Kolt.” His age combined with Luke Montgomery’s unmistakable robin’s-egg-blue eyes reminded all the adults assembled of everything they needed to know regarding the boy’s parentage. “Honey,” she said to her pride and joy, cupping Kolt’s shoulders, “this is your grandmother and cousins and aunt and uncle.”
Eyebrows furrowed, Kolt looked up at her. “Oklahoma wasn’t as far as I thought. If they’re our family, how come we’re just now seeing them?”
Daisy’s mother winced as if she’d been slapped.
“Girls,” Josie said to the twins, “could you please show Kolt your fort?”
“Boys aren’t allowed,” Bonnie informed her with a glare in Kolt’s direction.
“They are now,” Dallas said with a light swat to the girl’s behind.
“Come on,” Betsy said, sweetly taking her cousin’s hand. “We have lots of way-cool stuff.”
Kolt looked to Daisy for reassurance—especially about the hand-holding.
“Go on,” she nudged, despite the dread knotting her stomach. Hellish Oklahoma sun bearing down on her, she forced a cheery, “Have fun!”