Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)(8)

“Well, they’re getting their wish since Gavin hasn’t done shit with it.”


They chewed on that in silence.


“You be all right doin’ chores Sunday morning alone?” Dalton asked. “There’s a poker tournament in Deadwood. The pot is twenty grand.”


“Go for it. Get drunk, get laid and win the pot. I’ll need payback next weekend.”


“Where’s the rodeo?”


“Buffalo. Friday and Saturday night.”


“Deal.” Dalton stood. “Night, John-Boy.”


“Night, Mary Ellen.” Tell snagged the afghan off the back of the couch and let sleep overtake him.


The next afternoon after Tell got Landon cleaned up and fed, they headed to town. It was one of those perfect Wyoming days—the sun shining above an enormous, cloudless blue sky. Just enough bite of cold in the air to remind him winter had ended but summer wasn’t here yet.


Landon exuded energy and ran from the swing set to the jungle gym to the sandpit and every place in between before he decided to shinny up the monkey bars.


Tell chased the boy, ran when Landon chased him, and let himself be caught and tickled. Finally Landon settled into the sandpit to dig—an activity that’d keep him occupied for more than five minutes.


Tell rested in the grass, letting the sun warm his face. It’d been a cold, snowy and gloomy winter. Seemed the sun hadn’t shone at all, so he basked in the warm glow like a fat barn cat when he had a chance.


Not long after he hit that perfect relaxation point, a shadow fell across him. He inhaled a slow breath, expecting to open his eyes and see his father looming over him.


But Georgia Hotchkiss’s beautiful face swam into view.


He grinned at her. “Well, it’s my lucky week if I’ve seen you twice in as many days, sweetness.”


“It is you. I wasn’t sure.”


“What threw you off?”


Her gaze moved along his body from his Merrell hiking boots up to his face. “Might’ve been that ball cap you’re wearing instead of a cowboy hat.”


Just then Landon skidded to a stop, spraying Tell’s legs with sand. “Watch me!” The boy jumped over Tell and sped around the perimeter of the sandpit, making racecar noises.


“Pity the kid doesn’t have any energy to burn off,” Tell said dryly.


“How old is he?” Georgia asked.


“Four.”


“What’s his name?”


“Landon.”


“Great name. Your son looks a lot like you.”


Tell pushed to his feet. “Whoa. That’s not my kid. That’s my brother Luke’s kid.”


“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed…” She cleared her throat. “So are you babysitting for Luke or something?”


“Or something.”


Georgia gave him a strange look. “Sounds cryptic.”


“You probably haven’t heard the story since you’ve been gone. Luke died a few years ago. Before he died, he’d stepped out on his wife and knocked up this chick he met in a bar. She didn’t come forward until Landon was sixteen months old. So, as weird as it is, we’ve got an informal custody agreement with Landon’s mom, Samantha.”


Horror widened Georgia’s eyes. “Oh my God, Tell. I had no idea that Luke had died… I’m so sorry.”


“Thanks.” He kicked a clump of sand. “I’m sorry about RJ. Losing a brother sucks ass.”


“Yes, it does. I would’ve loved to have a surprise nephew or niece show up in my life.” She scowled. “But that’s an impossibility since my dead brother’s girlfriend is now married to my ex-husband.”


Tell laughed. “That situation is familiar. My brother Brandt married Luke’s widow, Jessie.”


Georgia smiled and Tell’s heart skipped a beat. Goddamn. She still had that goofy smile. He was happy to see she hadn’t perfected a fake, polite grin over the years. “What are you doin’ at the park?”


“I’m out for a walk, enjoying this beautiful day.” She tipped her head toward Landon. “Do you have him all weekend?”


“Me’n Dalton have had him the last two days. My mom lives in Casper now and helps Samantha with Landon’s daycare and stuff.”



“So your mom and dad…?”


“Got divorced.” Tell tore his gaze away from her and looked for Landon. Sneaky kid was nowhere to be found. He said, “Gimme a sec,” and jogged to the monkey bars.


Landon wasn’t crawling around the jungle gym or sitting on the swings. Tell spun a slow circle and squinted at the flash of red by the picnic tables.


There the little bugger was. Tell froze when he saw his father sitting next to Landon on a picnic bench. He’d had to bribe Landon with ice cream to get the boy’s attention.


Tell meandered over, feeling his skin tighten and toughen up. “Dad.”


“You ain’t keepin’ a very good eye on my grandson, Tell. Anyone coulda snatched him up while you was yammering to that girl. You always did have the attention span of a dog with fleas. Praise the Lord I was here.”